The sun had set in Veridia. Sedrick and Theron, two Veridian archers, were resting in the loft of the Golden Dragon Inn. The innkeeper hadn't been able to take all his supplies, so there was plenty of fine ale waiting for the duo. Theron finished a quick inventory check. They had enough food and wine to last for months- though Theron was mostly interested in the wine. They rinsed their bruised fingers with alcohol to disinfect them and wrapped them in bandages.
Sedrick was worried. If his fingers kept hurting for the next few days, would Merana still love the touch of his hands on her soft smooth skin like she used to? What if he hurt her? He couldn't share this with Theron; his friend would only mock him, and when the war is over, the whole platoon would be laughing at him. I hope when this battle is over, the Lord rewards us, Sedrick thought. With the money, I'll heal my hands and then… he blushed.
Theron noticed him smiling to himself and took a long sip of ale, "What are you thinking about, man? Your pretty wife, or the sweet girls we met last time at this inn?"
"I love my Merana too much to even think about other girls!" Sedrick snapped, giving him an angry look.
Theron laughed out loud, "Oh, that's right. I forgot- you're a newlywed."
Suddenly, Sedrick thought he heard a muffled cry nearby, but it was cut short by Theron's boisterous laughter. He looked out the window. It was pitch black outside. Only the lights from the pirate ships in the dock were visible.
"Theron," Sedrick asked, staring into the dark, "Do you think the Lord will actually reward us after all this?"
"You bet!" Theron laughed, "The Lord has a big heart. He loves to shower his men with rewards. I can't even imagine how much he'll pay us after this battle. Maybe my kids will never have to work a day in their lives. Man, if you have to die, you should die for a Lord like him, who cares for his people like they're his own blood!"
Sedrick started to reply, but they were interrupted by the loud blast of a horn from the Auric Spire. It was the signal for retreat.
"What in the name of Oblivion is that?" Theron sounded surprised and annoyed; he clearly didn't want to abandon his post at the inn.
Sedrick's heart sank. He felt a sudden, sharp wave of panic, "Let's go, Theron. Something isn't right! We need to leave, right now!"
Theron started to protest, but a cold, third voice drifted from the shadowed stairs, "Your friend has no regrets about dying for his Lord tonight. So, let him die in peace."
Sedrick immediately aimed his bow at the dark staircase, "Who's there? Show yourself!"
"So you can shoot me between the eyes?" The voice spoke again, but now it came from behind them.
Sedrick spun around and saw a dark, humanoid figure standing behind Theron. The figure had one hand clamped over Theron's mouth, and with the other, it held a knife to his throat. Before Sedrick could react, the figure slashed the blade across Theron's throat. With a wet, cruel sound, the grip loosened, and Theron's body collapsed onto the wooden floor.
"YOU SCOUNDREL!" Sedrick fired an arrow, but the figure vanished before the shaft could strike.
"Tell your friend I said 'sorry' in the Beyond," the voice whispered from directly behind Sedrick.
Suddenly, Sedrick felt a cold touch, then a piercing pain in his back and stomach. He could taste his own blood oozing from his mouth. A slight push from the figure sent him falling onto the floor beside Theron. Before he died, he heard the figure whisper, "Don't worry. I'll personally take care of your wife when we breach the city. I promise- I won't let any of the other scums touch her."
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
When Lorian heard the soldiers talking about "sitting ducks," he realized the pirates' plan. They were waiting for the cover of darkness, when the archers couldn't see the roads, to move in and slaughter them.
When he shared this with Lucien and the other commanders, no one wanted to retreat. They argued that leaving their well-defended positions would hand the city to the enemy on a silver platter. It wasn't clear how many commanders disagreed out of ego, and how many were simply afraid that Lorian's bad feeling might actually come true.
Lorian had to lose his temper and throw his weight around, reminding them that he was the "Lord of Verdia and master of every soul in this city," before they finally blew the horns. He didn't care about his image anymore; rather he just prayed he was wrong and that his men were safe.
The horns blew, and the archers began to pour back into the safety of the wall. To everyone's horror, only a fraction of the original thousand returned. About six hundred made it back; four hundred were left behind. Few of the survivors told them what had happened- a group of black-clad figures had attacked them in the dark. Only the ones who were quick or good in close combat survived to tell the tale. Lorian was right.
The commanders and Lucien hung their heads in shame. Their arrogance had cost them hundreds of fine men. They couldn't even look at Lorian. But Lorian felt no pride either, only a mix of rage and hatred was brewing inside. He felt desperate.
"Now what, my Lord?" Lucien asked, his voice was full of shame.
Lorian raised a hand, stopping him. He looked at Provost Martial Corvus Thorne-Smyth, the head of the Veridian Guard, "They say you have the best ears in the city. Listen closely. What is that sound?"
Everyone went silent. Corvus walked to the edge of the wall, straining to hear the faint noise coming from the city, "It's… drums. War drums. They aren't for music or a celebration. It's a signal… rhythmic."
Lorian thought for a moment, then called for Jax. The beastman approached and knelt. Lorian put his hand on Jax's shoulder, "I am sorry, my friend. I need your skills again."
"Master, please…" Jax sounded surprised and sad.
Lorian stopped him, "Go into the city. Stay hidden- completely invisible. Then return and tell me what is happening. You are not allowed to fight. Even if you see a lone enemy who you know won't be missed, do not attack. Stay hidden, watch, and return. If you feel danger, don't stay. Keep your wits about you. Just as I am sending you to scout, the enemy might be hiding and watching us, too."
"Yes, Master!" Jax bowed, jumped from the high wall with feline grace, and vanished into the darkness.
Lorian turned to the remaining archers, "Rest now. You have five hours. I need you all ready and refreshed by then. You are dismissed."
No one knew what was going on in the Lord's mind, but by now, everyone realized something important- if anyone could match the bizarre, unpredictable strategies of the pirates, it was the 'idiot prince.'