Chapter 237: Silver Crane (2)

The man who finally came down the hill looked older than Tobin had expected.

His temples had turned grey, and deep lines marked his tired face. He wore a plain soldier’s coat rather than the ceremonial uniform of a high-ranking commander. His boots were muddy, and there was nothing about him that suggested he had slept comfortably in weeks.

He walked at an unhurried pace, as though he had more important things to do than answer the summons of a royal officer.

A sharp-faced woman, perhaps forty years old, followed a few steps behind him. She carried a thick ledger beneath one arm and watched the approaching knights with an expression that gave nothing away.

Sir Aldous straightened in his saddle.

"I am Aldous Fenwright, commander of the Order of the Silver Crane. By direct instruction of the Crown, my company has been sent north to reinforce the Wall and place itself under the authority of the Lord Commander."

The man stopped in front of him.

"Then your orders are already out of date. Lord Commander Ulrich Vance is dead. My name is Coris Danel, and I am serving as Acting Lord Commander."

Sir Aldous looked him over, clearly unimpressed.

"Acting Lord Commander. I see. Then perhaps you can explain why my men have found no sign of the fortress they were sent to reinforce."

Danel glanced back toward the ridge.

"The Wall is behind us, Sir Aldous. What remains of it is scattered across the northern wastes. We held our positions for as long as we could, but there came a point when staying meant nothing more than waiting to die. We brought out everyone we could save and came south."

Sir Aldous said nothing immediately.

Tobin watched him carefully. He had seen the commander make difficult decisions before, particularly when the cost of a mistake was measured in men or money. Whenever Sir Aldous considered something important, his handsome face became perfectly still. He looked less like a soldier weighing a situation and more like a merchant calculating a bill.

Tobin could almost imagine the figures passing through his mind.

Two hundred and ninety men.

Three weeks on the road.

No fortress to reinforce. No enemy to fight. No glory to bring home.

When Sir Aldous finally spoke, his voice was calm and courteous.

"So the garrison of an imperial fortress abandoned its post and marched south without permission. Is that the official explanation?"

Danel’s expression hardened slightly.

"Eight thousand people marched south, Sir Aldous. Soldiers, workers, servants, and everyone else who could still walk. We did not abandon the Wall because we grew tired of guarding it. We left because there was nothing left to guard."

He gestured toward the pale stone above the keep.

"Three thousand, four hundred and eighty-two people never made it out. Their names are being carved into that monument. The masons expect to finish within the week."

Sir Aldous did not even turn to look.

"I understand that you have suffered losses, Acting Lord Commander, but grief does not change the law. The dead can no longer answer for their actions. The living, however, still have obligations to the Crown."

Danel waited for him to continue.

"Among the people you brought here are the convicts who were sentenced to serve at the Wall. I have been informed that a group of thieves was delivered there by the Fourth Son of Gannon. They were sentenced to serve the Crown, not to wander wherever they please once their prison happens to fall apart."

The woman standing behind Danel tightened her grip on the ledger but said nothing.

Sir Aldous continued.

"I have also received reports of soldiers abandoning their assigned posts without imperial permission. Among them are men from the Fifth Legion of White Griffin serving Duke Aegis Von Gannon. My outrider has identified their banner on this ridge, despite the fact that their proper assignment was the eastern front."

He paused, allowing the accusation to settle.

"As the senior officer of the Crown’s forces present, I am assuming responsibility for this situation. The convicts will be taken into custody, and the soldiers who deserted their posts will answer for their conduct. You will accompany us as well, Acting Lord Commander. The loss of an imperial fortress is a serious matter, and someone will have to explain how it happened."

For the first time, Danel’s tired expression gave way to something sharper.

"You have misunderstood the situation, Sir Aldous. Your orders were to place yourself under the command of the Wall. That is precisely what the Crown instructed you to do."

Sir Aldous smiled faintly.

"The Wall no longer exists. Neither, I imagine, does the authority you claim to represent."

Danel looked at him for a long moment.

"You have travelled a considerable distance to reach us," he said. "But you have not yet asked a single question about what happened in the north. You have not asked what destroyed the Wall, how many men we lost holding it, or what might happen if the thing that brought it down decides to follow us south."

Sir Aldous’s smile faded a little.

Danel continued, his voice quiet but firm.

"You arrived with three hundred men and a royal seal, and you believe that gives you the right to take our people away in chains. I suggest you learn what happened before you decide who should be punished for surviving it."

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Tobin noticed the silence spreading across the ridge.

The hammering above the keep had stopped.

The long line of people carrying water from the river had come to a halt. A woman stood in the middle of the road with a bucket in her hands, watching the knights. Children who had been running between the houses were now standing beside their parents.

One by one, people emerged from the villages.

Men left their work in the fields. Women stepped out of doorways. Older soldiers appeared from behind the keep, some carrying swords, others leaning on spears or walking with the help of wooden crutches.

They did not shout or threaten the knights.

They simply came down the slope.

Some walked from the river. Others emerged from the houses and the narrow paths that wound between the fields. More appeared along the road behind Danel, until the people surrounding the commander were no longer a handful of tired survivors but a crowd that seemed to stretch across the entire hillside.

They stood beside him, behind him, and along both sides of the road. Some were armed, but many carried nothing at all. There were old men with grey hair, women with children in their arms, and boys who looked too young to have seen a battlefield.

Nobody spoke.

Yet the meaning of their presence was unmistakable.

These were the people who had survived the fall of the Wall. They had lost their homes, their comrades, and thousands of their own. They had spent the last twenty days trying to build something from the wreckage of their lives.

And now a stranger had arrived to tell them that they would be dragged away for the crime of surviving.

Tobin looked across the crowd and felt a tightness in his stomach.

There were far more people than he had first imagined. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, spread across the ridge and the villages below. Even if every knight in the Order drew his weapon, there was no guarantee they could force their way through.

Sir Aldous studied the gathering in silence.

For the first time since the column had reached the ridge, he seemed uncertain.

He turned in his saddle toward Captain Hale.

"Clear the road," he ordered.

Captain Hale hesitated for the briefest moment before raising his hand.

Along the front rank, nearly three hundred lances lowered together, their polished points turning toward the people standing before them.

The crowd did not move.

And neither did Coris Danel.

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