Prologue

1254 Words
“Did you get it?” The simple question was asked with such venom and resolution, giving the impression that there should only be one answer. “You didn’t get it?” “Sir—“ The king nodded to the guard standing before him. In one fluid motion, the guard surged forward, knocking the whimpering creature to the ground. He groaned against the weight of the chains around his wrists. The guard drew his sword and held the blade against the fallen creature’s neck. The figure, who was bowed low before him, had deep red hair. He looked like a foreigner, like someone from Etrusca. And when he spoke, he sounded Etruscan too. “Wait, please,” begged the worthless man. Creature. This was no man, this whimpering thing was not even a person. What a waste. “I have information…I kn-know I f-failed you, my King, but please, please.” The king raised a hand. The guard, with an exasperated sigh, lifted his sword from the creature’s neck and took a step back. “Speak. What information do you have?” “T-the prince…he’s vulnerable, he’s—“ “I’ve already dealt with the mess of last spring. Your information is useless.” The king motioned to the guard once more. Immediately, the guard strode forward, his sword at the ready. “N-no, please!” said the creature. “He-He’s vulnerable in the castle! I can get you in! I can get you into the castle!” The king held his hand up, causing the guard to pause. “Getting into the castle is useless unless we can get into the kingdom,” interjected a man seated to the king’s right. A smile spread across the king’s features. “It won’t be long now, Garsiv.” It won’t be long now. An excited grin spread across the king’s face as thoughts and plans formed. He could do it. He could be the king to end the war with Etrusca and claim victory for Cyra. In a hundred years, no one was able to do it. But he would. He would be the greatest king in all of Cyran history. He examined the creature on the floor before him. This thing was nothing more than a terrified mess. But, if his knowledge was correct, he could be useful. “I will let you live, for now,” said the king, rising to his feet. The creature sighed a breath of relief. “Garsiv, you will interrogate this man. See that his information is of use to us. If not, kill him.” “Yes, my king,” replied the general with a bow. For a moment, the king paused. It was still strange to hear his old childhood friend refer to him as “my king.” He knew Garsiv did it out of respect to his position, but it was strange. They fought together, they laughed together, and now, as a new king, barely holding the position for more than five years, his dear friend referred to him as “my king.” He stared at Garsiv for a long moment. Finally, with a shake of his head, he stepped out of the tent. The moment he did, the full Cyran army stood at attention, respecting their king, whom they had vowed to protect with their lives. For many of these men, they fought alongside the king only five years prior at the battle for the southern Etrusca border. They were good men and good fighters. He knew they would not cower in fear when the time came. The king passed through them, walking with deliberation to his own tent. There, he reclined, resting for a moment’s peace as his mind considered his plans. Yes, this battle was long and unending. But he was going to end it. Because of him, there would be no more Etrusca. But that worthless creature failed to complete the simple task he was given. How was the king supposed to march into Etrusca without it? Garsiv was right. Getting into the castle was a waste of time unless they could get fully into the kingdom. And the best way to do that was through the opening. No one bothered defending. The Cyrans were stronger than the Etruscans. The fortress and defense the Etruscans utilized now were nothing but paper in relation to the might of the Cyrans. But, it would be hard. The Etruscans were unusually strategic these days, especially after Prince William’s failed a*******n. The king banged his hand against the table. What had those bandits been thinking? He hired them to scout the kingdom for weaknesses, not steal a person. Did they assume the king would just pay them for stealing the prince in the middle of the day like that? He wanted nothing to do with the prince, he wanted a fair fight. But since that time, the Etruscans monitored every border, every weakness they had. Except for one. Which is why he needed that map. He promised his people an end to the war and he was going to deliver, even if that meant invading the kingdom blindly. He would lose many lives that way, but they would be able to push their forces into the kingdom. From there, it was only a short hop to victory. “My king,” called a voice from the doorway of the tent. “Come in, Garsiv,” said the king. The man entered the tent, falling to a bow the moment he entered. His head was bowed so low that the king could not even make out the features of his dear friend’s face. “Stand up, Garsiv. We’re alone now. What news do you have?” Garsiv stood and faced the king. “He confirmed your theory about Northem. It is unguarded. He’s walked through the forest himself and thinks he could lead the army through the forest and to the castle.” “How are we supposed to trust a man who can’t even perform one simple task?” sighed the king. “That’s not all, my king, he has someone in the castle itself. He thinks they will be able to intercept any news from the north.” “A lack of communication? The castle will be unable to protect itself in time?” “No, my king, they will be defenseless.” Garsiv had an eager look on his features, one the king had not seen in a long while. “I know you already believe this man, even if you do not trust him.” “You’re right. This is our only solution.” The king paused for a moment. “Garsiv, you will take your best soldiers and follow this man’s plan into Etrusca. Let us see if we really can get our forces into the kingdom without the Etruscans noticing.” “My king, I believe I am needed here—“ “You are not,” snapped the king, “you are here to end a war. You will do what needs to be done in order to bring this about. Is that understood?” “Yes, my king.” “Be strong, Garsiv. Go, choose your men. Tell them to be ready to enter Etrusca tomorrow morning.” The king’s old childhood friend bowed in respect, then departed from the tent. Once left alone, the king considered his plan once more. This would work. This would bring the end of all of Etrusca.
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