Kevin paced the rampart.
He was fuming.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it!"
His father, the actual lord of this fortress, was on a long journey.
Which left him in temporary command.
And in one night, everything had gone to hell.
"Last night!" he hissed to his steward, who was struggling to keep up.
"The castle was infiltrated! By mountain bandits!"
"Through the sewers! The gods-damned sewers!"
He kicked a loose stone, sending it clattering off the battlement.
He was furious.
But mostly, he was terrified.
And humiliated.
"I never thought... I never thought that woman was one of them!"
His face flushed hot with shame.
She had been beautiful. She had smiled at him in the hall.
"She killed he! My best man!"
"How the hell am I going to spin this to my father?"
That was the real problem.
And now... this.
This... down-and-out noble showing up at his gate.
"I can't open the gates!" he snapped. "Not for anyone! How do I know he's not with them? How do I know this isn't a trick?"
The steward, a thin man with watery eyes, wrung his hands.
"My lord... looking at their strength... a dozen soldiers, and... slaves. Little more than cannon fodder."
"The bandits... they've probably already marked them as prey."
"They're just observing them for now. Not making a move."
Kevin sneered.
The fear in his gut was replaced by a cold, desperate cruelty.
"Not my problem."
"If they die, they die. Good."
He almost smiled. A shaky, ugly thing.
"Let them soften up the bandits for us."
"We'll just wait here. Reinforcements will come. Eventually."
...
Down at the gate, Roland's face was impassive.
He knew it.
' he's not going to open the gate.'
Fine.
And, his mini-map was active.
Several stationary red dots had appeared around their perimeter.
Just... watching.
Like... scouts.
Violette pressed closer to his horse. She didn't have a map, but she had her SSS-rank instincts.
"My lord," she whispered, her hand on her dagger. "We're being watched."
"I know."
He needed to confirm the enemy.
He cupped his hands and shouted up to the rampart.
His voice was calm, analytical.
"Who breached the outer wall?"
"Don't tell me it was the corpses. They don't have the intelligence for it!"
Kevin's voice shot back, high and cracking.
"Bandits! Mountain bandits! Now get lost!"
Roland's mind locked onto the word.
'Bandits.'
Not monsters.
Humans.
...
At that exact moment, Knight Rena rode forward.
He stopped his horse a respectful distance from Roland.
His voice was flat, formal,
"My lord."
"I have completed my task."
"I have successfully escorted you to Windsor Castle, as all here can bear witness."
He gestured to the closed gate and the bodies on the walls.
"My orders are fulfilled."
"I am returning to make my report."
Roland just nodded.
He didn't even look at him. "Go."
Roland knew his request to leave wasn't a request, but a notification.
He would leave regardless of what Roland said; it was too dangerous here.
Rena didn't need to be told twice.
He wheeled his horse, his dozen-odd cavalrymen following.
They rode off without a single backward glance.
...
Anna moved to Roland's side.
"What now, my lord?"
Roland looked away from the impassive, cowardly castle.
He looked toward the breached outer city.
The empty streets. The open doors.
The armory.
"We loot."
...
He didn't wait.
He led his small caravan to the armory.
He pointed at the few scattered corpses in their path.
"Clear them. A copper for each one."
The slaves, now armed with pitchforks and clubs, fell on them with a greedy, practiced efficiency.
All the while, Roland watched his mini-map.
The red dots were moving.
Following them.
A few red dots maintained a constant, careful distance.
'So, those are truly the bandits' scouts.'
They were being shadowed.
'Why haven't they attacked yet?'
'They think we're weak. They're toying with us.'
Or...
'They're waiting for something.'
It didn't matter.
He knew what he had to do.
He had to arm his slaves.
"The armory. This way."
It was a squat, stone building. The door had been splintered, but not broken down.
He kicked it open.
Darkness.
The smell of steel, old leather, and... fear.
His mini-map flared.
Two red dots.
Inside.
Hiding in a concealed corner.
"Violette," he said, not even turning.
She was gone.
A blur. A shadow.
A sudden crash of wood and a muffled scream from the darkest corner of the room.
Violette reappeared, dragging two men by their collars.
She threw them at Roland's feet.
They were in shock.
Their eyes were wide.
"How...?!" one of them gasped, his face pale.
"We were hidden! We were perfectly hidden!"
"How were we discovered?!"
Roland looked down at them, his expression cold.
"Are you with the bandits?"
The men's faces snapped shut.
They refused to answer.
Roland drew his sword.
He struck one, the flat of the blade cracking against the man's ribs.
The man screamed.
"Talk," Roland said, his voice quiet. "Or I will start... torturing you. And I am very creative."
They still wouldn't talk.
Just spat at his feet.
'Loyal. Or just terrified of their leader.'
Roland sighed. A waste of time.
"Bind them. "
He turned his attention to the armory.
Racks of weapons lined the walls.
Swords. Spears. Leather armor. Chainmail coifs.
Standard weaponry.
It looked like it had already been looted once.
The best steel was gone. The full plate armor was missing.
But the remaining equipment...
Roland's lips hooked into a slight, cold smile.
It was still enough.
Enough to arm more than thirty men.
'Good.'