LORD CHANCELLOR

  The winds blew cold that night, contrasting the grand heat that it followed. Winter’s end was a pain in the damn ass, months if not weeks of rain followed by hundreds of dead, squelching sun and freezing nights.

  Alric shivered in a thick bear pelt coat thrown over his shoulders, and the bear’s skull was stuffed and he wore it as a hood. He could feel his teeth chattering no matter how hard he tried to stop it.

  The soldiers too were barely withstanding the cold, their training and armour and given cloaks were helping them, yet the men were already beginning to waver. Two had fallen and they were taken to the doctors already. Alric could see two more that would fall quickly enough.

  His majesty sent him out to greet the conquering heroes that were marching through. Three columns of spear men, each column with ten men and behind them followed their Lord Captain, sar Davis Sestur, on a white destrier.

  “My lord,” the general greeted him, “I have a gift for his majesty.”

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  Two soldiers marched through, their spears pointing at the man in between them. He was dressed in a tunic and trousers, his hands and legs in irons, and a bag was over his head.

  The general gestured for his men, and one of them ripped the bag off of the man’s head, revealing a rough man with an overgrown beard and hair. His eyes were dark and bruised and a freshly healed scar around his eye. “This, my lord chancellor, is lord Alfred of Lanvar.” A smile crept onto the general’s face as he looked down at the beaten lord. “Chief advisor, general, and bannerman of prince Alzugar.” Gods, Alric felt himself mouth out the words.

  “I captured him near castle Reme, he was marching to besiege the castle and my vanguard took his host by surprise,” the general boasted, “I defeated and cut him down from his horse myself, my lord.”

  Lord Alfred, Alric thought. The Gods truly are good. The last time they had captured any lord of Lanvar was thirteen years ago when they were able to captured, and killed, king Alzugar. “Take him to the dungeons,” Alric told one of the capital’s guards. They promptly grabbed the lord and pulled him up, and escorted him towards the palace. “His majesty thanks you for your gift, sar Davis, you may rest in the capital for the remaining two months of the winter.”

  “The fourth legion thanks you, my lord chancellor.” General Davis rode forward, and the remainder of his men followed, twelve thousand infantrymen and eight thousand cavalry. Each of them with their bronze, silver, or gold armor, holding spears and lances and swords at their sides.