For King and Country

The Sound of Drums.

Chapter 39

I hadn't realized how much waiting would be involved in war. The sun was high in the sky before a small group of figures on horseback road towards the middle ground, waiting for us. The two men that held the flags seemed harmless, but the two bulky figures in full armor in between us were far more ominous. The man under the scarlet flag was tall and wide. He rode a large black horse that stomped the ground in anger. The other, Jordan, rode a huge chestnut horse that made him see even taller.

"They want us to ride out to them." King Jefferson said. A man beside him in a helmet that covered his face held the large burgundy flag proudly. I had no idea who the man was that held our flag, it was some one that Elijah had called forward.

"Let them wait a little longer," Fitzgerald said, turning his head towards Elijah. "Bring the horses." He said, making Elijah incline his head. Then a hand grabbed my shoulder. I turned to see Micah, his hair was pushed away from his face.

"Why are you not in the village?" He asked, his eyebrows creased together in worry. Micah had been put in charge of one of the units that were waiting in the village. It suited him. I rolled my eyes and turned back to face the group of four growing impatient.

"Because this is my fight." I said simply. Micah froze when he saw Jefferson chatting with some of his generals.

"Do you trust him?" He asked. I nodded.

"Yes. Go back to your unit, soldier." I said, I reached out to grab his forearm. "Be safe, Micah." He paused and nodded before he turned and marched away. Elijah walked forward, holding the reins of a tall white horse. He offered me his hand and helped me up on it before climbing on a horse himself. Once we were all settled, Jefferson on a powerful, black horse like his brother, toward above us all. Jefferson kicked his horse into a walk and started towards his brother. Fitzgerald rode beside me, sitting stiffly. I turned to look at Elijah, riding behind me. He was leaning back lazily, as if this was just a ride to the village or through the countryside. He looked relaxed. How he managed it as he rode to face an army was beyond me.

"Hello brother," Jefferson's voice rang out as we approached. I could make out the features on his brother's face now. They were painted with a sneer, his thick eyebrows scrunched to form one as his lip drew up on one side. His hair was long, like his brothers, and was plastered against his face under the sides of his war helmet. His face was olive toned but plastered with pock marks and scars.

"A brother that rides with the daughter of a whore is no brother of mine." The boy hissed, snarling at me. My horse whinnied and drew back a few paces. I jerked the reins, glaring back just as hard as he was yelling at me.

"Now brother, let's be civil." Jefferson warned. "Will you introduce me to your friend?"

"Count Damion Jordan." Jordan introduced himself, glaring at me. "The rightful heir to the throne of Colland." I snorted, rolling my eyes.

"A cousin, I presume?" Jefferson looked to me. "Your majesty, if you don't mind me saying, I believe you have inherited all of the good qualities of your family." I scoffed, but smiled wickedly.

"I'd have to agree. Jordan, what are you doing? Do you not understand the consequences of your actions?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Yes. I will become King. I will take either you or one of the other high ranking ladies at court as my wife. You, if you survive today." I rolled my eyes, turning towards Fitzgerald.