62 When a plan falls in place.  

On the docks,

Aden sat on his black steed, Betty, fully clad in a suit of armour.

With his Greatsword was strapped to his side, he watched as the final sail of The First Maiden caught fire.

One of the flaming main sails fell unto the ship's quarter deck, feeding the flames that were already growing out of control.

The enemy attempted to put out the flames but the artillery fire from the Maria and the Tyline ensured that the task remained impossible to accomplish.

Aden watched with a keen eye as terror spread amongst the once disciplined men. Even more, men decided to jump overboard and swim ashore despite the threat the ballistae posed to targets out in the open water.

The fire grew more intense.

Aden frowned an expression that didn't go unnoticed by Lancelot who was also mounted on a brown steed beside him. Behind them were two other armoured knights.

The viscount was clad in a suit of armour very similar to Aden's and also wielded a sword, a Longsword to be exact that looked nearly identical to Aden's albeit being a bit shorter and lighter in weight.

"What is wrong my lord?" Lancelot asked.

"It's nothing serious, I was just a bit worried that those fools would soon start jumping overboard en mass. The ballistae probably won't be able to keep up." Aden replied

"But I guess I worry too much, Levi obviously had already considered that."

Glancing at Levi a few meters away dressed in the same uniform as the militiamen and clad in simply in only a culverin with a flintlock strapped to his shoulder, the middle-aged duke smile faintly.

A few dozen seconds later as predicted by Aden, several men made it through the gaps that the ballistae couldn't fill and swam ashore.

Screaming vengeful war cries, they made a beeline for the ballistae and the men surrounding them.

In front was a man Aden and Lancelot recognized.

"My Lord isn't that-"

"Yes, it is. Guess he did survive the war, I was almost certain he would be dead by now." Staring at an injured Jurel, who was leading the charge, Aden replied with a mild shrug.

"Guess I was wrong after all."

Seeing the men being only barely stalled by the ballistae, Lancelot grew worried. Clenching his Longsword he steadied his mount.

"Don't worry," Aden said barely glancing at him.

"Huh?"

"We might not get to do anything today, the little bastard seems to want to grab all the attention." The duke commented nudging his chin in Levi's direction.

Lancelot turned to see Levi had already taken a few steps forward, standing conspicuously in front of the ballistae.

The young master took a firing stance and aimed.

Glancing at Aden who was seated proudly on top of his rare Gelarian steed, Levi smirked faintly casting a taunting glance at the duke.

Turning back, he took aim and pulled the trigger.

*Bang*

A single gunshot sounded and despite the chaos, a large majority of the fighters briefly turned to look in the direction of the odd sound.

Levi levelled his gunstock and proceeded to reload the weapon, front about thirty-five yards away sir Jurel crumpled to the ground, skidding slightly forward by a few meters.

A small bowl-sized hole had appeared in his chest. Blood and mangled flesh stained the wooden pier.

For a brief millisecond there was silence then moments later it was unknown who started it but the militiamen uttered an oddly unified war cry.

With intensified effort, they pressed on the assault.

Behind Levi, five more men similarly dressed appeared also wielding flintlocks and wiped out the first wave of attackers.

Aden looked at Levi expressionlessly reloading his weapon, although his expression did not change much if one looked closely enough they would notice the corner of his eyes curve up ever so slightly into a crescent.

Looking away from his son's antics, the duke glanced at the enemy ship.

Aboard The First Maiden, the men's morale had reached an all-time low. Looking to their sides, the Maria and the Tyline bombarded them into submission and in front ballistae and musketeers picked off anyone that came ashore.

Even if they succeeded in reaching the ballistae and musketeers. four fully clad knights mounted on horses awaited them. And from their forms, the more experienced amongst the survivors could judge that it might probably be just suicidal to attempt taking them on barely armed, tired and without armour (1)

One of the men who jumped overboard raised his hands in the air out of despair and desperation. Surprisingly the ballistae men accepted this universal sign of surrender and quickly ignored the fellow focusing on the other around him.

Realizing this, more men jumped overboard and floated with their hands above their heads.

Like a pile of cards, the enemies morale fell to rock bottom and everyone decided to surrender.

In a matter of moments, the battlefield had turned silent as the sounds of battle seized.

"Yeah!"

"We won!"

"Ahhh!"

Aden glanced at the men who uttered vistory cries without leaving their posts and smiled. It was unknown who started it but soon it caught on, the militiamen's morale rose to a new peak.

Ignoring the militiamen's rejoicing, Aden tightened the reins of his steed, calming the valiant beast. His horse could feel the nervousness coursing through his veins.

The duke reasoned that this might be the pivotal moment that Levi mentioned in his plans, the point that determined the outcome of everything.

Scanning the burning ship with his vision, he searched and sought for signs.

Then his eyes narrowed.

At the bow, a figure appeared.

It was Josh Hera, the defeated duke.

Even from the distance, Aden could feel the desolation in his gaze and the rage burning under that expressionless visage.

From the distance, Aden could see a small smile form on Josh's face.

One filled it maniacal desire, almost bordering on the precepts of insanity. With eyes that speak of the desire to watch the world burn, the duke stared straight into Aden's eyes.

Perhaps by chance or intuition, he found the younger duke amongst the crowd of fighters.

And in his hands was a grey pigeon.

He cradled the animal that carried his last hopes for revenge with an almost loving embrace.

With a hoarse cough, from inhaling too much smoke, he released the bird allowing it to fly away.

Smiling, he leaned unto the scalding hot surface of the ship, not minding the pain, watching as the creature flew further away, southwards, in the direction of Greystones.

But, then his pupils dilated.

Behind his messenger pigeon were five streaking white and blue meteors making a beeline for it.

five blue-tipped falcons frantically made their way towards the little pigeon, chasing it with an obviously ravenous desire.

The first two birds dashed towards it but missed by a few meters due to the pigeon excellent manoeuvrability and their vivid impatience.

But the smaller bird didn't stay lucky for long.

The third bird scored a direct hit, smashing into the pigeon in a puff of rock-grey feathers.

The fourth and fifth soon caught up tugging at the smaller bird with the third.

In a splatter of crimson, a wing was ripped of followed by a thigh.

The first and second soon joined and in a matter of seconds, the homing pigeon was rendered into nothing more than a falling bit of scrape flesh and bloody feathers.

It never stood a chance.

Duke Hera watched with a despairing gaze as the pigeon that carried his last hope was ripped apart.

Aden witnessed the whole scene with an expressionless gaze.

He turned to look at duke Hera gasping and coughing hoarsely aboard the flaming ship. The duke leaned on the guardrails and seemingly passed out before slipping and falling into the Strega with a dull splash.

"I told you, that little bastard wanted all the attention," Aden said to Lancelot whilst glancing towards Levi coordinating the capture of the men that surrendered.

He had soon cast the fallen aristocrat to the back of his mind.

He spoke with a hint of scorn and a dull smile.

Although he said that though, his gaze towards Levi was somewhat soft and relenting

It even carried a hint of approval.

A.N.:

(1) Knights don't wear their armour aboard ships. In the probable event that they fall into the water, all that extra weight would make it impossible for them to stay afloat and possibly drown hence armour is usually stored away until the ship is docked. That was the reason why Duke Hera's men fought unarmoured and couldn't approach the ballistae.