The Lord of Icemit

Henry approached the wounded horse, its body pierced by a long spike topped with a head. He realized that it had been purposely done to allow the horse to reach them before it eventually died, as a threat and a message. Henry felt a deep sadness as he looked into the horse's desperate and pain-filled blue eyes.

He placed his forehead against the horse's head, attempting to calm it down. He could feel the horse's rough breathing, with his lungs erratically going up and down, in a struggle to breath and to survive. He could feel the animal's strength gradually fading away as its legs trembled, failing to support its own weight.

"I am Sorry…" – Henry said, closing his eyes, trying to send it his apologies.

The king couldn't bear to see the animal in pain any longer. While still holding the Snowfire Horse, Henry took out his sword in his free hand and, in one swift motion, he ended the horse's suffering.

"Take care of it. We are going to return him to his family" – Henry instructed, avoiding looking in the horse's direction.

With determination in his eyes, King Henry straightened his red mantle adorned with golden lines that depicted an ascending dragon. His gaze fixed upon the sturdy wooden walls of Icemit, masking the deep anger that simmered within.

The army watched Henry's towering figure with bated breath, eager to bring down the walls and avenge their fallen brother, who died a meaningless death. Their rage boiled at the thought of the cruel and unworthy individuals who dared to defy their king and reject his offer, cruelly beheading their brother in the process.

Luther also watched his liege's back, awaiting his order. He felt guilty for the soldier he sent as a messenger, but it didn't cloud his conscience. He was a seasoned general who had seen his fair share of cruelty.

"Luther!" - Henry called out, his gaze fixed ahead at the formidable walls of Icemit. - "The enemy has rejected our offer with this barbaric act. What's our plan to overcome these defenses and reclaim what is rightfully mine?"

"I have a feasible plan, my liege!" – Luther answered, his firm tone filled with confidence.

-x-

The snow had finally stopped falling, but the city of Icemit was still buried under a blanket of white. This winter was one of the harshest in the city's history, leaving a trail of death and destruction in its wake. Trade had stopped, and the lack of essential goods like food and firewood was taking its toll on the residents.

Over the course of three months, the number of deaths had risen to over a thousand. The merciless cold and relentless hunger claimed the lives of women, children, the elderly, and men alike, leaving only their frozen bodies as a testament to the severity of the situation. The city was in dire straits, and the survivors were struggling to survive.

Despite the dire circumstances, the castle of Icemit remained unaffected by the harsh winter. The tower released a steady plume of smoke throughout the day, signaling that the Lord of Icemit was still warm and well-fed. It appeared that the winter had not taken hold within the walls of the castle, where the nobility lived in comfort, untouched by the suffering outside.

Perched on top of Icemit's walls, the archers kept wary eyes on the horizon, watching the enemies' every movement. Although the snow had stopped falling, the cold persisted, biting at their faces and forcing them to wrap themselves in thick furs to protect against the harsh winds on the wall.

On the horizon, there wasn't a great number of soldiers on Henry's side, but Luther's old silhouette dealt a great blow to Icemit's soldiers. They were not facing bandits or wild beasts, but the king's army led by a renowned General, that ascended to his position in their parent's time.

Furthermore, the sovereign of Icemit had to attack them in the worst possible form, beheading the soldier and delivering his head back, as a further act of betrayal and fury that implicated all the army.

"Bastard! Why the hell are you shaking like a leaf? Are you afraid of that incompetent king?"- A shrill voice, tinged with anger, echoed over the walls, causing all the soldiers to snap to attention.

The round figure of a fat man, clad in the finest of clothes and ornated with a sparkling array of jewelry, loomed over a thin and malnourished archer crumpled on the ground. With a vicious kick, the man aimed for the vulnerable spots of the archer, who cowered and tried to shield himself from the kick.

"That pathetic man should have been killed by the barbarians! He said it was a sure thing!" - The fat man screamed in fury as his face contorted with madness- "WHY? WHY? WHY?"

The fat man ranted, delivering powerful kicks to the already battered form of the archer, who could do nothing but defend himself against the blows. However, a sudden powerful kick in the head ended the archer's futile resistance, making his body lose all the strength left and open to attacks. In the end, the archer laid motionless on the ground, dead by this violence.

"Get rid of this vermin and throw his body over the wall. He's not fit to share my presence or be buried in my lands" - With a sneer, the corpulent man issued his command and spat on the body of the fallen archer.

The soldiers' eyes were filled with a mixture of fear and veiled anger, as they followed that cruel order, picking their comrade's lifeless body and throwing it over the wall. They were strong and trained soldiers, but the body felt way heavier than a mountain.

After ending the archer's life, the fat man stood motionless and panted heavily as the fiery anger in his eyes diminished. He wasn't physically built like a fighter, being only a feeble merchant and a noble. The strain from his outburst had taken a toll on his body.

"I am going back to my chambers. Captain Moara, you take care of this situation!" – The fat man turned on his heels and rapidly descended the wooden rampart, like a rabbit running away from his prey.

The captain's face contorted with disapproval as he observed the fear evident in the lord's eyes. Despite his trepidation of the approaching army, the lord recklessly ordered the beheading of the messenger. The captain couldn't help but think that the lord was a foolish and short-sighted man.

Despite his reservations, the captain was forced to address the situation at hand. He was one of the soldiers who had joined the lord of Icemit in betraying the king and fleeing the capital.

"Prepare the archers!" – The captain yelled.

-x-

On Henry's side, Luther and the cavalry were the spearhead of the army.