NOVEL WEB Chapter 17: A new beginning
Any opinion and comments are welcome
----------------
The entire event was becoming tedious. Though the northern nobility of the empire tended to be less embroiled in intrigue than the central regions, this place was no exception to the tiresome political games that seemed to seep into every corner of the hall. For someone accustomed to the clear lines of the battlefield, the silent struggle of words, gestures, and implicit agreements was infuriating. Everyone wanted something: more men for their armies, increased budgets to strengthen their defenses, shipments of equipment from the Marquis's forges, whose iron was as coveted as it was scarce in these lands. Everything had a purpose, a hidden intention rarely mentioned outright.
It was a nest of vipers, each trying to climb to the top regardless of who they trampled in the process. Some nobles sought to secure their influence by promising military support they would never deliver; others openly complained about resource shortages, exaggerating their problems to garner more aid. Even among my own family, I could see these games. My father listened patiently to the words of an aunt who was clearly trying to redirect the patriarch's priorities toward her own interests. My uncle, the patriarch, addressed each request with a tense smile, offering ambiguous answers that satisfied no one but left no room for direct reproach.
Meanwhile, I remained on the sidelines, observing. I had no interest in participating in this theater, but neither could I afford to ignore it. In every conversation, the struggle for crucial resources was evident, especially for iron. The Marquis's forges were a recurring topic, as their production was the backbone of northern defenses. Everyone wanted priority in the shipments: swords, spears, armor. Iron not only meant military power but also the ability to defend fortresses against the growing threats of orcs and goblins. Yet here, in this hall, it wasn't danger that united the nobles but their desire to gain an advantage, even at the expense of their allies.
My father, too, refrained from engaging in the political game. He was one of the few in this hall who, like me, remained steadfast in his position, observing without being dragged into the serpentine conversations and empty exchanges of promises. I saw him near the Marquis, his brother, both standing apart from the bustle, assessing every movement like hunters watching their prey. The difference between them and the others was clear: they didn't need words to exert their influence.
I was surrounded by my veterans, men hardened by the north and ever vigilant, even in this hall full of nobles. Many of them didn't bother to hide their distrust of anyone who tried to approach, and their hardened expressions were warning enough to keep the curious at bay. However, when my father signaled me to approach where the Marquis stood, I didn't hesitate to follow. My men formed a protective circle around me, moving with me like a shadow.
When we reached the Marquis, he studied me for a moment before speaking. "Konrad… it has been many years since I last saw you. You've changed too much. If I recall, you once disliked looking others in the eye." His tone wasn't mocking, but there was a note of incredulity in his words, as if he was trying to reconcile the image of the timid boy he remembered with the man standing before him now.
The Marquis spoke with measured calm, every word carrying an authority that didn't require raising his voice. "Your father… my brother, has spoken highly of you and the remarkable transformation you've undergone. It's something worth noting, without a doubt."
I stood still, listening to his words, but I didn't avert my gaze. Something in his tone warned me that what was coming wasn't simply praise.
"My son will soon depart for the capital to enroll in the academy," he continued, with an air of solemnity. "It's a crucial step to learning governance, a tradition all my children have followed before him. But this time, I've made a special decision." His gaze intensified, as if gauging my reaction before proceeding.
"In consideration of your Scholar's Blessing, I intend to send you south with him. Not only will you attend the academy, but you will also serve as his squire and as steward to my daughter. You will provide them with support, protection, and learn alongside them."
The hall fell into a deathly silence after his words. I felt the stares of the nobles piercing me, some with curiosity, others with evident satisfaction. To them, this must have seemed like an honor. But to me, it was a direct blow to my pride.
"What have I done to deserve this punishment?" My voice shattered the silence, laden with restrained fury I couldn't conceal. "What more do you want, Father?" I said, turning to him. My gaze locked with his, overflowing with disbelief and frustration. "I became what you wanted. I stopped being the weak boy who couldn't meet anyone's gaze. I led men, defended our lands, shed blood for this family. I became what you expected… and now, you send me away? Is this my reward? To be a servant for his son and daughter?"
The hall grew even quieter. The stares of the nobles intensified, and the murmurs that had floated earlier were extinguished entirely. My father stepped forward, his face hardened, clearly uncomfortable with my open defiance.
"Konrad, mind your words," he said firmly, though his tone betrayed a crack of urgency. "This is not punishment. It's an opportunity, something I could never have offered you. I requested this for you. The academy is a privilege that will prepare you for a future greater than you can imagine now."
"An opportunity?" I retorted, my tone icy but laced with defiance. "Is that what this is? An opportunity to take me away from the north, from what we've built, from the men I lead and who trust me? I become what you wanted, and you send me away to serve as a servant. You call that honor?"
The Marquis intervened, his voice unshaken but with a sharp edge. "Careful with your words, Konrad. This is not a debate. This is a decision made by those who understand what's best for the family. Governing is not just leading men in the field. Governing requires learning things the north cannot teach you."
"The north taught me enough," I replied, my tone lowering but without losing its intensity. "It taught me to lead, to protect what matters. I don't need the academy, the capital, or their pretty words to know who I am and what I'm worth. This isn't about the family. This is about controlling me."
The tension in the hall was palpable. My father stepped closer, his voice now more severe. "This is not a choice, Konrad. It is an order. And you will obey it."
I stood silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. My gaze moved from the Marquis to my father, my mind processing the weight of what they had just decreed. Finally, I stepped back, refusing to bow, and left the great hall.
I left the festive atmosphere behind without looking back. The laughter, lively conversations, and music filled the air, but to me, they were nothing more than hollow echoes. Each step I took toward the stables was a reminder that the time for words was over. Only actions remained.
I quickly found my centuria of veterans, men who had fought alongside me in the northern lands, men who required no lengthy explanations to understand what was happening. Their loyalty was unshakable. "Ready the horses," I ordered in a low voice. "We leave tonight."
At first, a few exchanged confused glances, but the tone of my voice left no room for questions. However, we couldn't simply mount up and ride out of the Marquis's estate. The mansion was well-guarded, and any suspicious movement would be intercepted immediately. We needed an excuse, something that would let us leave without drawing attention.
While my men prepared, I approached the guards at the main gate, adopting a calm and courteous expression, though my heart pounded in my chest. "The Marquis, my uncle, has granted me permission to ride with my men in the area. It's a beautiful place at this hour of the night, and I'd like to show them the beauty of these lands before our departure south."
The guards exchanged glances, clearly skeptical. But my firm tone and connection to the Marquis made them hesitate enough not to question me further. "If you have doubts, feel free to ask him," I added with a slight note of irritation, as though their hesitation were an insult. "Though I doubt he'd appreciate being bothered over something so trivial."
That was enough to make them step aside. The guards, unwilling to risk angering the Marquis, opened the gates, allowing us to ride out.
Some of my men were not skilled riders, but that wasn't an obstacle. They mounted their horses and clung tightly to the reins and flanks, pressing their legs so firmly that their expressions betrayed more than physical effort—they shared the urgency and resolve driving every one of my actions. The discomfort or fear of falling didn't stop them. No one argued, no one hesitated
The Marquis's mansion disappeared behind us, along with its false opulence. The echoes of laughter and music faded as the pounding of hooves reverberated along secondary paths. There was no room for main roads or easy routes. The forest became our refuge, hidden trails our way forward. The horses snorted and frothed at the flanks, but they were given only the briefest rests to prevent collapse. Every strike of their hooves on the ground marked our determination. There was no alternative. Each of us understood that stopping or failing would mean the end
After days of near-constant riding, the familiar walls of the castle appeared on the horizon. Though fatigue weighed heavily on both men and horses, a slight relief showed in their eyes. Many of my men, hardened by battle, had more than swords waiting for them within those walls. Families, young children, wives working in the workshops and kitchens
The sentinels opened the gates without hesitation. The main courtyard quickly filled with the soldiers of the garrison, who displayed confusion at our unexpected return. Though a few exchanged uneasy glances, no one asked questions. There was something in the determination of those arriving that left no room for doubt: this return was not by choice but by necessity. As soon as we dismounted, the sound of boots mixed with the exhausted neighs of the horses.
I gathered my men into a circle, my words clear and firm, echoing against the walls. "The Marquis tried to banish me to the south, disguising his command as an opportunity. I have no intention of submitting to that. We will not wait here for them to send troops after us. We will take everything that is ours and prepare to vanish. This castle has been our home, and those who choose to stay—I blame them for nothing. But now, this place becomes a starting point. Wherever we go, we will build something no one can take from us."
As I spoke, the men's expressions showed approval and resolve. For many, this place was not just a fortress but the center of their lives. They knew that abandoning the castle meant risking everything, but their loyalty and trust outweighed any doubts. The walls protecting their families would be replaced by something even stronger, something they would help forge themselves.
The castle became a whirlwind of activity. Anything that couldn't be taken was prepared for quick sale to local merchants. Valuable goods were carefully packed, and caravans were organized to transport wealth, provisions, and essential tools. The slaves, initially confused, understood that this move would ensure their survival as well. They worked alongside the legionnaires, dismantling parts of the castle and loading carts with everything necessary.
In the hours before our departure, the soldiers' families did what they could, gathering their belongings and saying farewell to what they had known as home. Though their faces were marked with worry, there was no panic or chaos. Everything was done with the same discipline that had kept this place strong for so long.
When the time came to leave, I gathered everyone in the main courtyard. The cold morning air bit at our skin, but the firm gazes of my men and their families filled the space with something warmer: purpose. "Today, we leave this place," I said, my voice steady but carrying something deeper. "Not because we've lost it, but because we refuse to be pawns in their politics. What we've built here has prepared us for what comes next. Wherever we go, we will forge something no one can take from us. This is not a retreat—it is a new beginning."
----------------
Any opinion and comments are welcome