North America / Kingdom of Yorkania (Northern Grain Villages): January 8th, 1518.
It was an ugly day for the world. The roads were frozen, the fields were wet, and hunger walked beside the villages like a priest with clean hands.
(Michael's POV)
The bell rang once.
*DONG*
Michael froze.
Then it rang again.
*DONG*
Not church bell.
Road bell.
Morgan's new signal.
Michael grabbed his pitchfork and stepped outside.
Across the road, smoke rose from the eastern marker tower.
One column.
Then two.
Then three.
"Raiders." Said michael hoarsely.
His wife appeared beside him with a bow in her hand and said with worry "You are still hurt."
"I am still standing." Said michael calmly with a sigh.
"That has never stopped you from being stupid." Said michaels wife calmly.
Michael looked at her.
For a moment, despite everything, he almost smiled.
Then the first rider came down the road screaming.
"BANNERLESS MEN. TWENTY. MAYBE MORE." Said the rider loudly and madly at the top of his lungs.
Michael turned toward the village and said at the top of his lungs "WARDENS."
The village moved.
Not perfectly.
Not beautifully.
But it moved.
Women dragged children into stone cellars.
Old men pulled carts across the road.
Young boys rang the smaller bells.
A ten year-old boy with soot still faintly marked on his cheek climbed the watch post.
Jonas miller.
The boy who found the coin.
He looked terrified.
"Jonas." Said michael with a serious look in his eyes.
The boy looked down.
"If you see riders from the west, smoke black." Said michael with a serious look on his face.
Jonas nodded hard.
His little hands shook around the smoke cord.
Michael looked at the village road.
The same road that had carried grain.
The same road that had carried fire.
The same road he had crawled from with blood in his mouth and a coin cutting into his palm.
"Not again." Thought michael as his fingers tightened around the pitchfork.
The raiders came twenty minutes later.
Fast.
Masked.
But not fast enough.
The first horse hit the hidden rope.
*THUMP*
It fell.
The rider flew into the mud.
*BOOM*
A road warden woman drove a spear through his shoulder.
*SHK*
The man screamed.
The second rider turned.
An arrow hit his horse's neck.
The beast screamed and collapsed.
The village exploded into motion.
Not soldiers.
People.
Farmers with axes.
Widows with knives.
Boys throwing stones.
Women with bows on rooftops.
"THEY WERE READY." Said a raider loudly at the top of his lungs.
Michael swung his pitchfork into a man's leg.
*CRACK*
The raider fell.
Michael stomped on his hand.
*CRUNCH*
"Ready enough." Said michael with cold eyes.
The man screamed.
Michael lifted the pitchfork again, but another raider came from the side with a short sword.
His ribs screamed before the blade even reached him.
Pain shot through his body.
"Damn it." Thought michael with gritted teeth.
His wife's arrow flew past his cheek.
*SHK*
The arrow entered the raider's neck.
The man dropped to his knees, gurgling like a broken drain.
Michael glanced back at her.
She stared at him with cold eyes.
"You are welcome." She said with a smile.
"I knew you loved me lorelei." Said michael hoarsely.
"I tolerate your breathing." Said lorelei while drawing another arrow.
More raiders came.
Too many.
For a moment, the line bent.
A woman screamed.
A storehouse door caught fire.
*FWOOSH*
Flames crawled up the wood like hungry fingers.
"WATER." Said someone loudly.
Two boys ran with buckets.
A raider kicked one of them down.
Michael roared and stumbled forward.
His ribs burned.
His legs almost gave out.
But he moved.
A stone flew from somewhere and struck the raider in the temple.
*THAK*
The raider staggered.
A old woman hit him with a shovel.
*BOOM*
The man fell into the mud.
"Stay down you ugly bastard." Said the old woman with blood on her lip.
Michael looked up at the watch post.
Jonas saw something from the tower.
His eyes widened.
He grabbed the smoke pot.
Black smoke rose.
Then white.
Then black again.
Three colors.
The new code.
West riders.
Crown escort.
Enemy hidden among them.
Michael's heart dropped and thought with wide eyes "They split"
A horn answered from the northern road.
*BWOOOOOM*
Yorkanian cavalry burst through the fog.
Black and gold.
Fast.
Clean.
At their front rode Isabella de' Bronx with a round shield strapped to her arm and a spear in her hand.
Her scarred white eye looked dead.
Her brown eye looked worse.
"The last shield maiden sends regards." Said Isabella calmly with a wide grin on her face.
Then slammed her shield into a raider's face.
*BOOOOM*
*SPLAT*
The man dropped.
*Boom*
Another raider swung at her from the side.
Isabella twisted in the saddle, caught the blow against her shield and drove the butt of her spear into his throat.
*SHSK*
He fell backward, choking.
Behind her came road wardens and cavalry.
Not enough to look like an army.
Enough to look like judgment arriving early.
The village roared.
"HAIL. HAIL. HAIL." Said the villagers loudly in unison.
The raiders broke.
Not because they were weak.
Because the village had become teeth.
The raiders tried to run toward the western ditch.
Too late.
A cart rolled forward from behind the blacksmith's shed and blocked the road.
Three young women with spears stood behind it.
One of them was shaking so hard the spearhead trembled.
But she did not move.
A raider rushed at her.
She screamed and stabbed forward.
*SHK*
The spear entered his stomach.
He stared at her in disbelief.
"D…DIE." Said the young woman loudly with a stutter as she pushed harder.
He fell.
The other raiders saw it.
Fear moved through them.
Not because of her strength.
Because of what it meant.
Yorkania's villages were no longer waiting to be saved.
They were learning to bite before the crown arrived.
Michael saw one raider turn his horse toward the fields and said hoarsely "Jonas."
The boy pulled another cord.
A bell rang from the tower.
*DING* *DING* *DING*
Three wardens rose from the ditch and fired crossbows.
*SHK* *SHK*
The horse went down.
The rider rolled hard across the frozen mud.
The battle ended badly.
Not cleanly.
Not gloriously.
Badly.
With screaming.
With blood.
With one young boy vomiting behind a fence because he had seen a man's skull split.
With smoke still rising from the storehouse door.
With widows holding knives like prayer beads.
With farmers breathing so hard the winter air came out of them like smoke.
Later, when the dead were counted and the captured were tied, jonas climbed down from the tower shaking.
Michael placed a hand on his shoulder and said calmly "You did well.
"I was scared." Said jonas while swallowing his spit hardly with his head bowed.
"Good. Only fools are calm when fire comes." Said michael calmly closed eyes.
Jonas looked toward the bodies.
His face was pale.
"I thought I rang it wrong." Said jonas softly with clenched fists.
"You didn't." Said michael with his hand landing on jonas's head.
"I thought everyone would die because of me." Said jonas softly with gritted teeth.
Michael crouched slowly, despite his ribs screaming, and looked him in the eyes and said "If everyone dies because a boy rang a bell wrong, then the kingdom deserves to be haunted by his spelling."
Jonas blinked.
Michael sighed and said with gritted teeth "That sounded better in my head."
Jonas gave a tiny laugh.
Then started crying.
Michael let him.
A road warden brought a captured raider forward.
The man spat blood and laughed while saying "You think this matters. Rome has more men."
Michael stared at him.
The raider's face was bruised. His mask had been ripped away. He looked young beneath the blood. Too young to have already learned how to starve other people for men who ate well.
"Rome has more men.More priests. More dollar. More ships. More hunger than this little village has teeth." Said the raider again with a bloody grin.
The village went silent.
Then from the road behind them came the sound of wheels.
Slow.
Heavy.
Certain.
A carriage.
Black and gold.
The raider's laughter died.
The carriage stopped near the ruined storehouse.
The door opened.
Morgan stepped out.
Her armor was dark.
Her cloak moved in the wind.
Her white serpent like hair sitting high with a black and gold headdress like a beautiful warning.
Her face did not move.
Her eyes did.
She looked at the raider and said calmly as she stepped out of the carriage "And I have patience."
The village went silent.
Morgan looked at the smoke towers, the ropes, the carts, the wounded, the living.
Then at jonas.
"You listened." Said morgan calmly.
Jonas bowed quickly and said with a stutter "Y…yes your majesty."
Morgan nodded and said calmly "Good. Listening has saved more lives than noble pride ever has."
She looked at Michael and asked calmly "The road wardens held."
"Barely, your majesty." Said michael with his head bowed.
Morgan's eyes turned cold and said calmly with them squinting "Barely is still alive. We will improve it."
Isabella dismounted and bowed slightly while saying "Your majesty. We captured seven. Killed fourteen. Three escaped east."
Morgan looked at her and said calmly "Three."
"Yes your majesty." Said Isabella with her jaw clenching tightly.
"Good." Said morgan calmly while rubbing her chin.
The village froze.
Isabella looked confused for a moment.
"Escaped men return carrying fear. Fear speaks faster than orders so they will die soon." Said morgan calmly with a wave of her right hand.
The captured raider swallowed.
Morgan looked back at him and said calmly while slowly walking over to him "Now then. Let us discuss how many men rome has."
The raider said nothing.
Morgan walked closer.
The mud did not dare dirty her boots too much.
Or perhaps it tried and failed.
"Name." Said morgan calmly.
The raider's jaw clenched.
Morgan waited.
The village waited.
A child cried somewhere behind a door.
The raider spat at her feet.
*SPLAT*
Not on her boots.
Near them.
Morgan looked at the spit.
Then at him.
"You people keep missing my shoes. Is this a religious weakness or poor training." Said morgan calmly with a sigh.
No one laughed.
They wanted to.
They were too afraid.
The raider trembled with anger and said with gritted teeth "You are a godless whore queen."
Morgan stared at him for a moment and said calmly "Wrong. I am a busy godless queen. There is a difference."
The raider blinked.
Morgan raised her hand.
Isabella struck him across the face with the rim of her shield.
*BOOOM*
The raider's head snapped sideways.
Blood flew.
*SPLAT*
Morgan crouched slightly, just enough to meet his eyes and said calmly "Your friends came for grain. Your priests came for hunger. Your masters came for my roads. You will now tell me which hand sent you before I remove the fingers from the story."
The raider breathed hard and said with a whisper "Rome will cleanse you."
Morgan's eyes sharpened and said "Rome could not cleanse its own stench if I handed it soap. Try again."
The raider looked around.
At the villagers.
At michael.
At jonas.
At the women with bows.
At Isabella.
At the black and gold carriage.
At the queen mother who had arrived not like mercy, but like consequence wearing armor.
His lips trembled.
Morgan stared down at him and said calmly with a wave of her right hand "Take him. Not to the castle. To the storehouse he tried to burn. Let him smell what his faith cooked."
Two wardens grabbed him.
He struggled weakly.
Morgan turned to the villagers.
"The damaged grain will be counted. The dead will be named. The wounded will be paid. The storehouse will be repaired before the next bell rings twice." Said morgan calmly.
A woman near the burned door started crying.
Morgan looked at her for a moment and said calmly with a sigh while looking back at the soldiers "Sorrows, sorrows. Prayers. The raiders may think they succeeded."
The woman wiped her face quickly and said with a bow "Yes your majesty."
Morgan looked at michael again and said calmly "You will rest."
Michael opened his mouth.
Morgan's eyes narrowed.
He closed it.
"Excellent. Intelligence arrived late but it is very much alive Indeed. Hail yorkania." Said morgan calmly with a nod.
Jonas clutched the tower rope in his small hands.
Morgan looked down at him and said calmly "Jonas miller."
The boy stiffened and said with a stutter "Y…yes your majesty."
"You rang correctly." Said morgan calmly.
Jonas's eyes widened.
"If you continue being useful, I may forget you are small." Said morgan calmly.
Jonas bowed so hard he almost fell forward.
Michael caught him by the shoulder.
The village was silent for a moment.
Then an old woman lifted her shovel and said weakly "Hail."
"Hail." Said another voice.
Then another.
"Hail." Said another voice.
Soon the village answered with tired throats, bloody faces and trembling hands.
"HAIL. HAIL. HAIL." Said the entire villages in unison.
Morgan did not smile.
But her eyes moved across them slowly.
Not soft.
Never soft.
But present.
The raider watched from where the wardens held him.
He looked afraid now.
Good.
Fear made men educational.
Morgan turned toward the road.
"To all wardens. From this day forward, no village waits for war to arrive. You hear bells, you move. You see smoke, you answer. You find a child with good eyes, you teach them to use them. Yorkania will not survive by asking enemies to be polite." Said morgan with her voice raised high in pitch.
The wardens bowed.
Michael looked at the frozen road.
For the first time since the first attack, it did not look helpless.
It looked watched.
Morgan stepped back into her carriage.
Before the door closed, she looked at the raider one last time.
"Tell rime something for me." Said morgan calmly.
The raider shook.
Morgan's eyes were cold and said calmly "Actually, do not. I will tell them myself."
*BOOM*
The carriage door shut.
The wheels began to move.
The village stood in smoke, mud, blood and winter.
But it stood.
And that was more than rome had intended.
…
THE END…