Ulric large figure strode toward the castle with the lord's daughter slung over his shoulders. All around him, houses burned and bodies littered the ground. The village's resistance had been handled as quickly as expected, the true fighters hadn't numbered more than four dozen, no match for his army of near four hundred. Once the warriors had been slain, and some had manage to sneak inside the castle, the rest were left to his mercy.
"Haha! Run! Run!"
He passed a fellow raider chasing down a villager, blood dripping down his face as he laughed maniacally, waving his weapon in the air.
On a half-burned house to the side, a raider was sitting down, and a naked woman was dancing in front of him.
"Yes that's right.. move your hips if you want to live…"
"Kill the old and the weak!" Ulric barked. "Keep the strong as slaves, we'll need workers soon."
Nearby, a raider was rounding up those who had surrendered and executing the useless. Soon, Ulric reached the castle and entered through the open gates.
"You got her?" Balden, his second-in-command, approached and gestured toward the girl.
"The last Hayes alive," Ulric grunted. "She'll fetch a high price, considering her womb holds the key to a barony."
Balden smirked. "That's assuming the Crown hasn't already stripped the Hayes line of its lordship."
"Which means we have to move quickly."
"We will."
Ulric handed the girl off to his men. "Make sure she's locked up tight." Then he glared at them, "She is not for playing."
Their smiles disappeared, replaced by apprehension and fear as they nodded.
"We have a problem, though." Balden said, his smirk fading into a grimace of anger. "Saltos and his men attacked the Whitesand Barony with only a meager force. I don't know the full outcome yet, but it's bound to have alerted the neighboring lords."
Ulric's face contorted as fury rose within him. "Saltos... when I get my hands on him..." he hissed through gritted teeth.
Balden crossed his arms, glancing toward a courtyard where a figure tied to a stake had been burned to a crisp. "The lords will gather a force soon, including the Baron of Sawhead. Our plan to lay low until the main army arrives is ruined, all because of that shit-faced Saltos."
Ulric wanted nothing more than to rip Saltos limb from limb. "Where is he now?"
"Last he was sighted, he was still storming the town. I don't know if he survived or if he even took the place."
"He couldn't have, not with that weak lot of his and Whitesand Barony is stronger. Get everyone ready to defend the walls, prepare the castle for a siege."
They could have escape, quite easily, but staying would allow them to do more.
Ulric turned toward the huddle of captured servants and drew the heavy war axe from his back. He whipped the weapon through the air, the steel whistling. He needed to quench the fire in his belly.
"Release them and give them weapons."
----------------------------------
They had reached the village early in the morning and quickly brought the news to the Lord. Though they tried to keep it quiet, the word soon spread through the village, and a worry fell over everyone. If Whitesand Town fell, the surrounding villages, including theirs, would become vulnerable.
Days passed, and the initial panic eased slightly, though there was still no word of what had happened in Whitesand. While most were confident that the town had held out, they also knew they wouldn't be let off so lightly. Furthermore, the Crown would undoubtedly have heard of this, a new conflict might arise, requiring a fresh conscription of soldiers.
Then again, as far as he knows, even combined, the Maglu islanders didn't have enough force to match a kingdom.
On the fifth day after the news of the attack broke, a messenger arrived at the Baron's castle. By that afternoon, Adrian was summoned.
"Why am I being called?" he asked Sir Cordell as he hurried behind him.
"Milord didn't say."
"Am I heading to war?" Adrian asked, hoping he was wrong, but Sir Cordell's silence only served to douse his hopes.
Soon, he entered the Great Hall once more. Lord Gareth Harrow sat in his chair, his wife and steward flanking him. Adrian bowed deeply. "Milord..."
"Adrian..." The Baron nodded. "A message arrived from the Baron of Whitesand this morning. He has called the nearby lords to a meeting, along with the Viscount of Ironmere, to discuss our course of action. A force from Maglu Islands has supposedly left their shores and is looking to seize new territories on the mainland. Our lands happen to be nearby in their path."
Adrian knitted his brows, thoughts racing.
"You have a question?" the Lord noticed.
"Um..." Adrian hesitated, then judging that the Lord wouldn't mind, he asked, "Why did the Islanders leave their islands?"
Lord Harrow leaned back in his chair, sighing. His tone held a hint of sadness, as if he blamed himself for his lack of answers.
"I do not know. But they are eyeing the Kingdom's lands, and the south has become a target. We must respond. That is why..." The Baron leaned forward, looking at him intently.
"Tomorrow, I will send a delegation to Whitesand Town for the meeting. You will be the head of it, representing this Barony."
Adrian was stunned. For several seconds, he couldn't speak. He noticed the steward looked equally surprised, while the Baron's wife wore a complicated expression. Sir Cordell, to the side, maintained his usual flat gaze.
"But..." Adrian forced himself to utter, "but Milord, why me?"
"You're a Harrow. A distant line, but still a Harrow, and that is enough to represent me." Lord Harrow gestured to the steward. "Osway will go with you. He will teach you the basics of what you need to know before you reach the town."
"I will make sure he is presentable and does not disgrace the Barony, Milord," the steward added quickly.
"See that you do." Gareth nodded and turned back to Adrian. "Whatever they discuss at the meeting, I have only one requirement." He hesitated, appearing almost ashamed.
"The Barony cannot offer significant support if conflict arises. We cannot gather many men, nor extra food. I hope the other lords will understand that."
Adrian nodded slowly, a sinking feeling taking hold. He suspected he was only being sent so the Lord could avoid being embarrassed in front of his peers. It couldn't be... right?
"I... well... I will prepare," Adrian muttered, still dazed.
The Lord nodded and gestured with his hand. "Osway will show you to a room where you will be fitted for clothes and taught basic courtesy. Go now, you don't have much time to learn it all."
"I will see to it, Milord. Come," the steward said, bowing quickly and gesturing for Adrian to follow.
"You know how to read?" the steward asked later, sounding both surprised and delighted.
"My father insisted on it. He left me a few books, mostly stories."
"That is good, then." Steward Osway stopped circling Adrian, correcting his posture as the young man stood in new, soft clothes, finer fabric than he had ever worn in his life. "You remember the names of the lords and ladies?"
Adrian knew if he sounded unsure, the steward would make him recite them all again. "I do."
"Good. You cannot be offensive to anyone, not even the children of the lords, especially the heirs. At the same time, you must know what to discuss, gossip fit for nobles, the news of the day, and the layout of the lands. But you must also keep your thoughts guarded. Say meaningful things with as few words as possible."
How does that even work? Adrian wondered, but he simply nodded.
"Tomorrow, you will take a boat with the servants. Make sure your clothes don't get wet and that you don't trip." The steward paused as if remembering something, his eyes narrowing. "Do you know how to ride a horse?"
Adrian was taken aback. "Do I need to? We're going by boat, aren't we?"
The steward grimaced as if the sky had just collapsed. "You need to learn. A lord should at least know how to ride."
Soon, Adrian found himself in the castle yard. It was well into the night before, under Sir Cordell's instruction, he was able to at least control the beast without embarrassing himself. Galloping was still a struggle, but he prayed he wouldn't need to do that in Whitesand.
As Adrian dismounted, a servant approached, telling him the steward wanted to meet him in his room.
"Will you be coming tomorrow, Sir Cordell?" Adrian asked. As the only knight of the Barony, Cordell's prestige was second only to the Lord's. Unlike commoners, knights held land they truly owned, free of rent. Though Sir Cordell seemed to prefer to stay in the castle.
They were not just warriors, but leaders of men in the battlefield. The order had originated from the Church of Light as champions of the people. Currently, the Baron had only one knight, though he had once had three before the others were lost to war.
"I will be." Sir Cordell said, snapping Adrian out of his thoughts.
"Well... what do you think will happen when we get there? And don't tell me you don't dare speak for the lords." Adrian added quickly.
Sir Cordell chuckled. "I'd say the lords will talk about what to do with the raiders from the Maglu Islands, and a force will likely be formed to deal with them."
It was exactly what Adrian had guessed. He nodded, said his goodbyes, and followed the servant.
However, a maid intervened, whispering into the ear of the servant he was following. They changed direction without explanation. Before Adrian could ask why, the servant led him to a door and pushed it open.
As Adrian stepped inside, he realized the person waiting for him wasn't the steward. It was the Baron's wife, Lady Ela Harrow. She stood by the window, the moonlight catching the silver embroidery of her gown.