Meanwhile, at the main gate of the fort…247Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYIFaZ1EVOw
The sun moved across the sky, facing the century of eighty. A cold glow illuminated their faces, blinding them. All they saw were the shadows of men in garrison, numbering in the hundreds, like monstrous shades that sought only to kill them. It was a sign that the heavens were not on their side, yet the survivors, as they had lived through everything but ease, remained enduring. Even if they had to fight an uphill battle against the flares of the sun, they had agreed that whatever obstacle was to be set before them, they were to overcome it together. But their sense of desperation ignored many more pathways that they could have taken without the prospect of battle, including joining the enemy. Without a single ladder, a ram, or anything that could be used to scale the walls of Medewen, those without ranged weapons could only pray that they would not be dishonourably slaughtered, like animals. However, their standoff gradually insinuated so.
Before the hundreds of barrels aimed at them, the Lecher never faltered. Their legs may have begun to weaken, and their hands did begin to tremble, but they swore to themselves that not an inch of ground would be given up, seeking to remain brave even in the eyes of death. Wondering who was to open fire first, both sides had long withheld their weapons. Their finger moved closer to the trigger, and they pressed their rifles into their shoulders. Like a featherweight switch waiting for a command, it felt as though any word uttered could send them into needless bloodshed. The battle drew closer to becoming a reality, and the closest comrades of the Danner soon began to wonder whether they had been wrong about their hope.
Under the shadow of the gatehouse, he looked up to the balcony whose party of officers were staring at them from above. The captain’s aides gave him counsel, but they were just noises in his ears, buzzing around him. Since deciding to place his troops on standby, he had not listened to another word they said. That was until he heard footsteps approach him from behind.
He turned his head and looked over his shoulder, his body freezing up. Removing himself from the balcony, he disappeared from the century’s sight again. Maybe he had found some sense to hear out his comrades, but in the half minute that he was away, his men became confused by his inaction. They turned to the gatehouse, yet no order came. Some began to relax their arms, thinking that they had missed the order to stand down, but then, the captain reemerged.
Pointing at the century, as if he was directing someone to see for themselves, the captain stood aside for a man to lean over the wall. He squinted, trying to understand their supposed enemy, and he was searching for the boy who they claimed spoke Danner. In the stalemate, in the silence, his search was concluded, and his eyes widened from the realisation.
Holding onto his amulet, the air in the corporal’s lungs grew cold from the lies he had told, and he willed for warmth. “Rer Dorisk Kapidæng! (Captain of the Gate!)” Julien addressed him in a commanding tone.
The captain could not ignore this summons that sounded to have come from a voice higher-ranking than him or the young lord. He disregarded his commander’s orders and shifted his focus towards Julien. Although he had not planned to hear him out, before he could silence him, the persistent corporal interrupted him again.
“Huisk Schutt willenej wrefœjger, haben— (I do not wish to command you, but as—)” Unable to bear his tone, Julien gritted his teeth as he said, his eyes shutting.
“Dorne œffnger! (Open the gates!)” He was saved by another’s voice coming from the gatehouse.
Eighty pairs of eyes turned towards the man who reprimanded the captain without his typical grace. After some harsh words, he slapped him in the face. The sound of the smack was deafening on the soundless wall, and the captain could only stand there, his eyes telling that he had grievously wronged someone of importance. He slowly diverted his gaze to Julien. The corporal could not believe what he had heard, but he was guilty, whatever it may have been.
Before the young lord stormed off, he realised that his order had not been heeded, so he brought himself to the walls to make his command heard again. “Hœllæsk dorne œffnger, jeges befælen! (Open the damned gates, I say!)” Never have his men ever seen him as riled as then.
Returning to the staircase, the lord straightened out his jacket, leaving the captain’s aides, who had heard the truth, quickly scrambling to see what he spoke of. What the century had witnessed left them baffled, but Julien, despite his momentary fear, peered down. Cold sweat ran down his face as the cogs of the gatehouse finally turned and the garrison lowered their arms.
The chains began to open the gates, but the weight of the door required not only the machinery’s strength but also the effort of dozens of soldiers. The sunlight emerged from the other side, renewing the hope that the century had lost, and before them lain the sprawling town of Medewen, which they had not expected to be so close to the gates. Arminius looked at Julien, who he had not doubted would be issued passage, but he had not imagined that this particular lord would have a part to play in their rescue too. There, standing beneath the arch of the gateway, was that same man.
Before the gates had completely opened, he made his way beyond the walls, subjecting himself to the danger of the outside world, and approached the century who had not yet moved. However, they found their saviour to be nothing like the first impressions he left. This man was not naturally angerable, for it was rare for him to have shown that side of himself. He had a soft smile that was not treacherous but welcoming. His hand commanded his entourage of guards to halt near the gates, and alone, the lord neared the eighty.
Keeping some distance, he halted and bowed deeply in front of Julien, who had made it seem like he was the leader of the band. “Das djengding beschædet biten wregebung, fer wurnæsk hæssliket wrehaldne. (I apologise, sincerely, for the unseemly behaviour of the men.)” Afraid that his allies had been insulted, the young lord mentioned foremostly.
“Allenej, es gud. (No, all is well.)” Julien replied, embarrassed by his overly kind gesture. “Wer kan lebernej witnej huisk wredschættet wœlwollding kommedhjer. (We could not have made it through without you being here.)” Suddenly, he spoke in a similar dialect, but his comrades could not tell, for none spoke their language.
The lord lifted his head and let off a slight chuckle, quickly coming to understand the corporal’s nature. He acknowledged his companions with a tip of his head, who saw him as their saviour and returned the same gesture in gratitude.
Placing his hands behind his back, the garrison commander oddly did not face Julien when he spoke, almost as if he did not dare. “For the sake of your men, I shall speak in de normet schpake.” His accent was as heavy as Julien’s was three years ago, yet he spoke with an uncommon form and grace.
“They are my equals and comrades no less.” The corporal corrected him before he could mistake them for being something they were not any more.
Surprised to have heard him say this, the lord paused. He moved his gaze upward and saw Julien’s eyes meaning sincerity, and he smiled seeing a reflection of his younger self within him. Understanding his wishes, the lord righted himself and brought his hands forward again. The century began to gather around the Danner, impatient for entry, but discipline would not allow them to march on without explicit permission.
Placing a hand on his heart, the lord acknowledged his mistake. “Of course, forgive me.” He glanced at his comrades, and sensed that those closest may have been the corporal’s oldest companions. “I am Paulus Rantzau, Bœjgremæstre of Haven. I look forward to our cooperation.” Reminded by their unfamiliar faces, he introduced himself.
Julien returned a bow, followed by his comrades who knew no better than to do the same, thinking that it was a common Danner greeting lest they offend their allies even more.
Holding up a hand, he pushed against the air. “Please, there is no need.” Rantzau stopped them.
The century was left stumped, and not knowing what to do, they turned to Julien for advice, but he found it strange that a lord would deny their goodwill too. Typically, a noble would have been too proud to have even acknowledged them.
“Rather, I have become intrigued.” The lord made sure that they would not entertain the idea of a noble’s greeting any longer and swiftly moved on. “If you are not the kommeneder, then who among you is?” He searched the century, wondering who it was that commanded them.
They had never been asked this question before, and some were caught unprepared. The century chose not to speak out, but their eyes simply turned to Arminius. Ushered forward, he was singled out, yet he stepped up to the task nonchalantly.
“I, my lord.” Standing beside Julien, the boy spoke in a tone that was similar to both Danner. “Arminius Reichner, lieutenant-elect of the Krakau Army.”
“Well, for a soldier of your age, you must be quite talented to have earned the rank of ledne’d.” The lord praised, although his compliment did embarrass the boy lieutenant.
Rantzau saw the fixed expression of the century growing desperate for rest when he took a breath and held it in. “But enough of my words, for I am sure your comrades are fatigued.” To the quiet jubilation of the eighty, he made it clear that he did not wish to keep them waiting any longer.
He turned around and found his entourage loitering, waving at them for their attention. When they saw their commander’s arm in the air, they scrambled away, returning to the safety of the walls to realise his wishes.
Having seen his subordinates away, the lord turned to the century once again. “Come, I am to return to Haven in a day’s time.” Rantzau gestured for his allies to follow on. “In the meanwhile, you are all guests of mine.” He added to the elation of the troops.
Gladly, the eighty followed on, finally able to breathe freely without a sense of dread and unease. The presence of the lord was enlightening at least. Never have they ever thought that they would encounter another man officed in a high post to be as selfless as their general. They felt protected by his presence, which was certainly warmer than the cold reception they had received at the gates before he arrived. Many had dreamt of rest under a roof, even for as little as a day, before whatever else would follow, and at that moment, they had been graced by an eventful end to their perilous journey.247Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ77D3NFq7nL
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