Illyon couldn't stop his hand from shaking as Sephys pinned his cloak to his shoulders, dressing him for the battle to come. It still felt unnatural for Illyon to be wearing armor before fighting. He had trained with armor on before, but it was not as often as he would have now liked it to be. The armor was separated and jointed in parts to provide free movement, and the chainmail he wore underneath was made of Earin steel, making it hard to pierce through, but light. He still felt twice as heavy and clumsy than he was without it, and he began to dread mounting Tridon to ride alongside Verim.
He could hear Verim outside the tent, already dressed and ready, rallying his troops with brave words and bravado that Illyon felt none of. Some soldiers murmured in agreement, while others cheered, and each and every one of them seemed braver than Illyon felt. He had waited this day for so long—all his training and efforts had built up to this moment, where he was to finally step into battle, and he was terrified. He knew he was dressed almost identically to Verim, with the gleaming white armor and dusty blue cloak, fringed with gold and the center embroidered with the gryphon of their house crest. But he had never felt so unfit to don the cloak and armor before.
Verim ducked into the tent, carrying his helm under his arm and his cloak flowing behind him gracefully. Illyon had seen Verim fight before in the yards, and he always had marveled at how natural and comfortable Verim seemed in his armor, like he had been born in it. Illyon always felt like the cloak fought against him, catching on his leg and wrapping around his arm like it was determined to make his armor more of a hassle than it already was.
"Are you afraid?" Verim asked, watching Illyon fidget with the hem of his cloak.
Illyon nodded, glancing away. He didn't want Verim to think that he was still a child that hid behind their mother's skirt, but he couldn't say that he wasn't scared either.
"Good." Verim said, with a satisfied smile, "Fear will keep you alive in battle. It will sharpen your senses and speed your movements. Unless... would you rather remain at the wall? No one will think any less of you."
"No." Illyon said, his voice trembling, "I want to fight."
"Then come." Verim said, turning away to leave the tent, "The sun is rising. It's time we head beyond the wall."
Illyon started to head out as well, but paused to turn around, offering a tense smile to Sephys, "Thank you."
Sephys gave him a small smile back, and inclined his head in a slight bow. Illyon sucked in a deep breath and plunged out of the folds of the tent, as if he was diving into water.
Verim was already mounted, and waiting for him when he stepped outside. He held the reins of Illyon's horse as he mounted, smiling reassuringly at him. Verim sat tall in his saddle, giving an air of authority.
His turned his horse to the road heading to the wall, and raised his voice, "With me!"
They rode to the wall in silence. Illyon gripped the reins of his horse too tightly, cramping his fingers, and stiffening them, but he couldn't uncurl his fist. The ride to the wall seemed much shorter than his previous rides, despite he had been riding at a gallop then, and now, they rode at a slow trot.
"Are you sure about this?" Verim asked, turning to Illyon as the gates rose with a hideous screech.
He could do it. He could dismount, and tie his horse to one of the trees that surrounded the road. He could walk over to the winch to let it carry him up to the top of the wall.
Illyon just nodded, his eyes following the gate as it shuddered to a stop halfway open. He couldn't trust his voice.
Even though the gate was only half open, it was still high enough for men on horseback, as well as their banners, most bearing the blue and gold crest of their family, but some bearing different crests of the lords that lent their armies to aid in the war. Illyon knew what he would see if he glanced back—the red and black of Lord Amaius, the black and silver of Lord Falic, the yellow and orange of Lord Clias, along with more banners he could not make out.
The tunnel through the wall was wide enough to accommodate five men riding side by side, but it still took until the sky was bright and blue for everyone in the first wave to make it out. The men silently moved into position as Verim instructed, Verim and Illyon at the head of the charge.
Illyon glanced over to Verim, and his eyes were fixed on the horizon as they drew closer to where the Miiryn army was lying in wait.
Verim suddenly drew his horses reins back sharply, and called out, "Halt!"
Illyon turned his head, trying to see what Verim was seeing.
"Is something the matter, my liege?" a man asked, drawing up next to Verim.
"They should be here." Verim murmured, narrowing his eyes, "Where are the Miiryn?"
"Perhaps they pissed their pants and ran off when they saw us coming." Another soldier said from the middle of the ranks, evoking a ripple of laughter through the division.
Illyon grinned, but quickly let it fade when he saw the dark look on Verim's face. "What's wrong?" Illyon asked.
Verim didn't answer as he turned his horse, nodding at Illyon to do so as well. Illyon turned, facing the soldiers that were following behind them.
"Illyon, it was my mistake to bring you." Verim murmured, just loud enough for only Illyon to hear, "You have to run."
"What?" Illyon asked, "No, I can fight—you said—"
"Run!" Verim snapped, unsheathing his sword and driving the hilt into Illyon's horse's flank, "And don't look back!"
The horse lurched into motion, and the men leapt out of the way to avoid the horse's flailing hooves as the horse tore across the dry, packed ground. A murmur of confusion rose amongst the men as Illyon fled, against his will.
The last thing he heard before he left the soldiers behind was Verim's words warning the soldiers, "Ride carefully. It's a trap."
