"You two are earning your marks today," Walter said, and then came a delayed laugh. The thought that an ordeal of this magnitude could be reduced to a matter of
grades was amusing. He motioned for the bottle of whiskey back and then took another drink and corked it.
Kristen, still with a touch of iciness to Walter but with the earnest attempt to warm it away via humor, said,
"Such is the life."
And at that Saydor had a healthy laugh himself, perhaps remembering some similarly trying ordeal during his Initiate phase in which an otherwise grand accomplishment was narrowed down to sterile "marks."
A long walk to the gates of Ostia Anir. All along the avenue there were squads of Banick soldiers hurrying to positions along the wall or throughout the city. They were expecting the worst it seemed, as if the Republic Army had come with siege towers already built, battering ram poised to be rolled to the gates, a legion of ladders to scale the walls, or mayhap a few select
Dreadlords to blow open holes in Ostia Anir's defenses and thus begin an assault that way.
They would get some good news, at least, when the order came to stand down—that there would be no fighting. All Kristen and Alistair needed to do was inform the Republic Commander and it would be so.
Then before the massive gates themselves, Walter called up to the gatehouse. "Open the gates!"
One of the soldiers up there poked his out, looked down, saw who it was and his surprise was eminently visible even in the gloom and soft firelights. His surprise
and his confusion. "Sir??"
Walter repeated his command, and then the soldier disappeared back into the gatehouse. Loud clanking and rattling came as metal cranks and chains began to move. Wood groaned, and slowly the doors were swinging open.
Kristen looked to Alistair.
"Time to tidy up an unfortunate mess, I suppose."
* * * * *
Commander Vogel sat mounted on his warhorse before his vast brigade of Guardsmen arrayed in the fields at Ostia Anir's front. And the one thought going through his mind now was that he would return to
Vel Anir covered in glory and
at last be promoted to Major.
He had been passed up for an opportunity for command at the siege at Wissburg, just like he had been passed up many times before. His career was
stalling at Commander as if he were cursed by some horrid god from
Cortos! But this was his chance. That capricious Cortosi god was asleep perhaps, and fortune was his for the taking. There were those within Parliament who wanted to take a soft hand to this matter in Ostia Anir, and then there were those who wanted a more definitive answer. With this latter group of interests did Vogel eagerly ingratiate himself.
And now he was here, ready to pave his way to Major over
Walter Banick's decisive defeat.
Vogel saw from the House Banick encampment that some of those nobles were coming his way. Eager to place themselves on his side, he imagined. Or to pester him like
Logan Banick did.
What caught his attention more, however, was that the gates of Ostia Anir were opening.
"Captains, have archers ready arrows," Vogel bellowed, and his subordinate captains all began to pass down the order to their own troops. "Dreadlords," Vogel said to the few of said battlemages behind him, "with me."
And he started forward at a trot toward the opening gates. He would
entertain Walter's paltry demands.
Alistair Krixus
