Chronicles of Kings and Knights/3

Chapter 10
"Where there is a will, there is a way. Where there is a will, there is a way to fail." ---Two sides of the same proverbial argument

They proceeded through the hallway that ended with an arch (Where the coat-of-arms of the king's family was carved), that marked the entrance hall of the palace. As they passed under the arch, one of the two sword-wielding soldiers stationed at the sides of the entrance started following them. Marin now understood why none of the spies sent to assassinate Lukavia's king returned. The security of this place was amazing.

Once they climbed the main stairs and reached the entrance of the audience room, the guards on both sides of the entrance slowly pushed the massive, beautifully carved mahogany double doors aside and entered in front of them. Then the guards stood by the marble columns on the sides of the room, while two other guards stood beside the man that regally sat on the tall mahogany throne.

The Cherry Wood Knights, upon entering the fabulous room, quickly knelt down before his Majesty, King Hollen, the third, of Lukavia, and his wife, both surrounded by an entourage of well over a dozen golden-trimmed, iron-plated palace knights. King Hollen was already showing signs of age, but still took great care of his appearance. His short sand-coloured hair was perfectly cut. And his royal red mantle cascaded down to the floor.

"Well, who do we have here?" bellowed the King, rubbing his chin--he obviously did not consider Hobenrûd so important as to remember his name and appearance. But, of course, for him, Hobenrûd was just a rebel. A rebel that could help him, but a rebel nonetheless.

"I am Sir Hobenrud, your majesty," he replied, with his head down, while the others remained silent. Marin had no idea where this conversation would go.

"Ah yes!" the King recalled. "Hm, let's see, last time...you sent a messenger here. You wanted help in overthrowing the ruivocan king, correct? And we offered to send my entire military to your aid, provided that you would afterward proclaim an oath of fealty to us. Have you come up with a decision?"

"We hope to settle for at least some of your forces, your majesty. We probably would not need your entire army, and only ask for a regiment or two. And then, provided that we succeed, we'll make a treaty."

The King was not too pleased. "So. You won't accept an oath of fealty. Does that mean--?"

Hobenrûd looked at him "Oh no, your majesty, we still hope to be very strong allies. It's just that it would be impossible for such a revolution to succeed on the terms you desire, as the peasants would simply overthrow us again!"

"Very well." replied the king, leaning towards him a little. "You shall have three regiments, nothing more." which caused the Cherry Wood Knights to glance at the king sideways. Three!? "Of course! You're our allies, and we won't let you fail! And, of course, we will be benefited by this as much as you... but of course you don't expect to win this war with only our forces, do you? As much as We liked your idea... We can't send my people to their certain deaths."

It was Marin that replied this time: "Of course not, your majesty. Actually, we already have a plan that will virtually guarantee our victory. We plan to ask direct assistance from the dragon riders of Jyptia... but the only man that can take us there is under attack by the king's forces in Pulti. So..."

"So you want our men to aid you in this battle, so that you can get more support?" interjected the King, now becoming more interested. "Could work. And it would be the perfect test of your trustworthiness. We have decided." Hollen then nodded to one of his knights.

"Yes, my lord," he whispered, before promptly vanishing out a back entrance on an immediate errand for the royalty.

"I have done all I have been asked. Now it's time for you to comply your part of the deal. Anita will probably be in the barracks, right from the palace's entrance. It's a wide, short building. Tonight you rest, and tomorrow, you depart. I do not easily trust foreigners, don't make me regret it."

Hobenrûd stood back up and bowed, as the others did the same, speaking the classic "Yes, your highness". Then they all turned around and left the audience room, escorted by a pair of guards in armor entirely washed in white paint.

"Hmm, I've got to get me one of 'hese!" exclaimed Hobenrud, scrutinizing the trimmed plate mail on the guard, and imagining himself in that attire. Meanwhile, the King on his high throne took note of it.

And so the Cherry Woods Knights betook some sleep, before waking up again ere the dawning of the first shafts of light, with one of the most fulfilling nights they had had for a long time.

By morning Hobenrud had awakened at last, and after ablution, walked out into the sunshine to come face to face with the three promised regiments, which had entirely filled the palacial front court with their dazzling array of scintillating armor. Princess Marin and the other rebel Knights were chatting happily with a beautiful young lady who was holding a meter-long, delicately beautiful, gilded fan.

"Ho there! Who are you?" asked Hobenrud, as the others took notice.

"She's Anita, the general," Gilbert introduced.

Hobenrud gave him a long stare, mouth wide open. "You mean to tell me--"

"Yes, a woman warrior is leading this army, Hoben."

"Great... Anyways, as long as she knows how to fight, she'll be good enough of a commander--"

"She doesn't know how to fight, Hoben."

"WHAT???" What the heck was a person who didn't know how to fight, doing leading an army?

"Whatever, you'll soon enough find out why for yourself..." Which left Hobenrud more than a bit confused.

Gilbert continued with his introduction. "She and Priscilla are already good friends, judging from their conversation." Hobenrud took one more glance at the two women and nodded.

One of the lieutenants in the newly formed army, all dressed in shining armor, trotted up to Hobenrud and offered him a set of silvery armor. "For you," he indicated.

So Hobenrud then spent the next ten minutes getting into his armor, while everyone else simply relaxed and wasted away their time.

At long last, he was finished. "All right, well since everyone's here, let's move," Hobenrud shouted to the three regiments of rank and file troops before them. "Destination: Pulti."

And thus, they departed on what would turn out to be yet another leg of a very long journey.