My 10 day writing challenge

Day 4

"For the people"

The men were camped in some ruin that was once a symbol of freedom. They weren't just men; they were warriors, trained to kill, men who'd seen battle and lived to tell their tale. Ten head strong men huddled round a stone fire pit, the whispered of those who died in the ruin surrounding the band of brothers.

These men had fought battles together, sometime they crossed one another on the same side, other times they were fighting on opposite sides. They always fought for their people; they fought to show they still had hope.

Their king lay dying. The prince had seen fit to take the throne for himself and his wicked bride. Together the royal couple had been terrorising every village they could. The death toll was nearing triple figures now that the prince had stepped up to claim the throne with the help of his wife.

Rumours spread through the land, all saying the same thing. The prince's bride had poisoned the king. Some even claimed the woman had complete control of the prince. But these men knew, the prince was wicked and cruel well before meeting his bride to be. Those who served the royal court knew how cruel the prince could be. It was rumoured that he had killed a servant girl when he was still a child.

These men were travelling through the land looking for able bodied men to join their cause and upraise the prince and his princess. Some of the villages they'd visited had been too scared to help them, a few had accepted to rebel but were scared for their families.

As they neared the city that was home to the grand castle the roads had been gruesome to continue down. Bodies littered the roads leading to the castle, corpses of all ages, both sexes, all mutilated. These men had stopped and built funeral pyres for the dead until the dead grew too many.

The last village they had stopped in they had recruited people to help go clean up the roads, give the dead proper burials. The village's people agreed with this, a sense of hope seemed to infect the people, a spark started to grow in their eyes brightening up their faces.

These men left the village in search for shelter to wait out the night before arriving at the castle. The old ruin was in sight of the castle, torches illuminated the castle walls where they had been situated along the castles ramparts.

Not one of these ten warriors were keeping watch, with their keen sight and hearing no one deemed it necessary to keep watch. A spit stood over the fire roasting a pair of skinned rabbits, two of the men took turns when rotating the spit to evenly cook the meat.

Little meat remained on the spit as the night draw closer to the morning. The air had cooled drastically since the band had settled down for the night, the sound of flames crackling was all the men could hear. There was the occasional squeak from the bats hunting their prey.

The whispers hidden within the wind had grown louder over the course of the night. None of these men knew what had once happened in this old ruin, no one even knew what this ruin had been. The land had changed over the years this once great castle had fallen out of use.

One story still remained, shrouded in mystery the ruin had once been a magnificent castle. All that remained was its haunted shell and skeleton, too dangerous to venture into by the local populous. These warriors had been the only humans to step foot inside the ruin in over a hundred years.