Sedgebury lay north of the Kingswood, only a few days' march from Tumbleton. The detour was slight, and Brother Gale felt it was the least they could do for Master Rosen.
According to their original contract, the Golden Dawn was to hire Rosen's wagons at a steep price to lower his intermediary commission. However, Rosen had waived the wagon-hire and personally recruited local carters for them, saving the monastery both silver and precious days. In a show of gratitude, Gale agreed to escort Rosen's five private freight wagons through the Kingswood to ensure their safe arrival at Sedgebury.
By the time they reached the forest eaves, the column had swelled to twenty-three wagons. They had twenty-three carters, twenty-seven hired guards, and Gale's core team—totaling fifty souls.
Caden, wary of the unfamiliar sellswords, organized the defense with a soldier's caution. He placed the eleven guards recruited by Walter at the van to clear the path. Rodney's six veterans flanked the center, while Caden himself, Jasmine, and the seven brothers from the monastery held the rear. It was a standard "Box-Formation," ensuring that any point of attack could be reinforced by the other two groups.
To deter the stupider sort of bandit, Caden raised the Golden Dawn's red-and-gold sun banner on the lead wagon, alongside the seven-pointed star of the Faith. In a world where merchants were often prey, a banner was a warning: We are under the protection of a power you cannot afford to offend.
Rosen's head carter, a man named Bask, claimed he could walk the road to Sedgebury with his eyes shut. Gale let him take the lead, content to follow.
The Kingswood swallowed them soon after. As a royal preserve, the forest was lush and untouched. Outside the canopy, the Reach was sweltering, but beneath the ancient oaks, the air was cool, carrying a persistent chill that spoke of shadows deeper than the trees.
After one night of safe camping, the trouble began. On the second morning, the train descended into a shallow dell between two wooded hills. One by one, the wagons creaked to a halt.
"What is it?" Caden shouted, spurring his horse toward the front. "Why are we stopping?"
Bask was hunched over the front axle of the lead wagon, hammer in hand. He wiped sweat from his brow. "Begging your pardon, Ser. The axle's seized. Won't take a minute to fix."
Caden looked over Bask's shoulder. He wasn't a carpenter, but the wheel looked straight enough. He felt a prickle of unease. "Be quick about it. We have miles to cover before moonrise."
He turned to the guards. "Malin! Rodney! Keep your eyes on the brush! No slacking!"
"Aye, Ser!"
"You have it, Ser!"
Caden rode back to the rear of the line to join his brothers.
"What's the delay?" Gale asked, looking up from his ledgers.
"Axle trouble on the lead car," Caden muttered. "Bask is on it." He signaled to the Sunwalkers. "Dismount. Give the horses some beans. We move as soon as the front clears."
The Sunwalkers complied, loosening their cinches. But a moment later, Rodney and Malin approached from the front, their teams trailing behind them. More worryingly, all twenty-three carters were following them, carrying axes and shields Caden hadn't noticed in the wagons.
Caden's hand went to the hilt of Petal-Breaker. "What is this? Back to your posts."
The sellswords didn't answer. They fanned out, their movements practiced and cold, surrounding the ten men of the Golden Dawn in a tightening ring of steel.
Malin, the quiet guard recommended by Walter, stepped forward with a sneer. "Ser Caden, don't take this to heart. We're just men of business. But you were a fool to carry a Valyrian blade into the woods for all to see."
Caden's jaw tightened. "Did Walter set this up?"
"Walter?" Malin laughed. "That gutter-guard? He isn't fit to command my shadow. But what does it matter now?"
Caden looked at Rodney. "And you? Were you bought before we even left the tavern?"
Rodney offered a small, apologetic nod. "Sorry, Ser Caden. Malin's offer was too heavy to ignore. A man has to eat."
Forty armed men against ten. Caden felt the weight of his own arrogance. He had thought himself a wolf among sheep; he realized now the sheep had been wearing skins.
"Bask," Caden said, looking at the carter. "Does Rosen know?"
"He told me to follow Master Malin's lead," Bask replied. "I imagine he's counting his share already. Just give them the sword, Ser. Maybe they'll let you walk."
Rodney and Malin went silent, waitng.
Caden's hand tightened on the rippled hilt. It cost the Master three days and common iron, he thought. Is it worth our lives?
He began to draw the blade to toss it over when one of the Sunwalkers behind him hissed, "No, Caden! You think they'll let us walk away to tell the Master? They want the grain and the gold. If we yield, we die in the dirt. We fight!"
Caden's indecision vanished. He snapped the blade clear of the sheath. "Rodney. Malin. Bask. Come and get it. But know that my gold is paid in blood."
"Kill them!" Malin roared. "The sword for the man who takes his head!"
The Golden Dawn brothers snapped into a tight circle, shields out, protecting each other's flanks. They had trained in "Simulated Lethality" back at the monastery, and it showed. Every time a sellsword lunged, he met a wall of oak or a biting counter-thrust.
But the numbers were overwhelming. Malin watched from the side, confused. He saw his men land blows that should have felled a giant, yet the Dawn warriors fought on as if they felt no pain.
Then he saw it. Every time a Sunwalker staggered, the brown-robed monk in the center—Gale—would press a hand to their back. A faint shimmer would follow, and the warrior would surge back into the fight with renewed fury.
"Kill the monk!" Malin screamed. "He's using sorcery!"
Gale dropped his hood, his voice ringing out with holy authority. "I am a Friar of the Sun! This is the Grace of Anshe! Attack us, and you invite the wrath of the heavens!"
The carters faltered, looking at the monk with superstitious dread. But Malin wasn't moved. "Lies! No monk has such power! It's demon-work! Are you more afraid of his gods or Lune Merrick's wrath?!"
The mention of Merrick drove the sellswords back into the fray. Gale's mana began to flag. Without the constant flow of the Light, the Sunwalkers began to fall. The circle was buckling.
Suddenly, the thunder of hooves shook the dell.
Both the traitors and the Dawn looked toward the ridge. A hundred men—peasants in rags but carrying salvaged steel—surged down the slope, led by a handful of armored riders.
They surrounded the dell, forming a massive outer ring.
Malin shouted, his voice cracking, "Who are you?! State your house!"
The lead rider ignored him. He looked at Caden, who was covered in blood but still standing. "Are you of the Golden Dawn?"
Caden blinked, breathless. "We are!"
The rider was a young man with a sharp Northern accent. He raised his hand, and a sphere of pure, golden Light ignited in his palm. "Brother. I am a Sunwalker."
Caden felt a sob catch in his throat. In a final, desperate burst of emotion, he raised his own hands and unleashed his remaining mana in a Holy Lay. The dell was flooded with a blinding, divine radiance.
"I am Caden Storm! Follower of the Lightbringer!"
The battle was over before it began. The hundred newcomers disarmed the sellswords and carters with a practiced efficiency that left Malin and Rodney staring at the ground in silence.
The unknown Sunwalker helped Gale treat the wounded before gathering at the rear wagon. Caden gripped the stranger's hand. "Who are you? How did you find us? Was it the guidance of Anshe?"
"If Anshe told the Master to put me in a tavern to listen, then yes," a voice laughed.
A second rider removed his helm, revealing the face of Lennar, the singer from the Four-Leaf Clover. "These fools don't hide their greed well, Caden. Lune Merrick, Rosen, and Adrian... the whole town knew they were going to gut you once you hit the trees. You were the only strangers in the room."
Caden was stunned. "I... I don't know how to thank you. Who are these men with you?"
"This is the New Kingswood Brotherhood," Lennar explained. "The peasants lost their homes when Stannis and the Lions fought. Tyrion Lannister sent mountain savages into these woods to 'defend' the capital, and they butchered the villages. Mu and I found the survivors, healed them, and organized them to survive."
Caden looked at Mu—the Northern Sunwalker. "But... we are told not to attack caravans. How can you stay in the Light while living as outlaws?"
Lennar smiled. "That's why I was in Tumbleton. I scout the roads. If it's a merchant of the people, we let them pass. if it's a Lord's supply train or a greedy man like Rosen... we take what the people need to eat. We only have one Sunwalker, so Mu has to work twice as hard."
Lennar looked at the wagons of grain. "You're lucky we were watching, Brother. The Sun shines on its own."
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