Chapter 7 Viscount Aldric

The war-worn soldiers of Viscount Aldric's platoon bustled with a sense of accomplishment as they went about their preparations. For months, they had been engaged in a relentless campaign to reclaim a strategic fort on the boundary of their kingdom.

Now, their mission was finally complete, and the time had come to return home.

Viscount Aldric, a seasoned leader with a weathered countenance, stood tall as he addressed his loyal platoon.

"Men," he began, his voice carrying the authority of command, "today marks a significant victory for our kingdom. Through your unwavering dedication and valor, we have reclaimed the fort on the boundary, securing our land and our people."

The soldiers exchanged proud glances, their fatigue momentarily forgotten in the face of their success.

Viscount Aldric continued, "But our journey is not yet complete. We must return home, bearing the news of our triumph to the king and our countrymen. The road ahead may be long and arduous, but I have faith that you will face it with the same courage that has brought us this far."

The platoon's morale remained high, bolstered by their leader's words. They cheered, some threw their helmets in the air, hugged each other, and couldn't help but shed a tear. Finally, the military campaign was over. For now.

"Who knows when is the next time I'll be called to report to the king again. Can't they ask someone else to do this?"

Viscount Aldric was more weary than excited by the fact he will be returning home. Living in the capital meant he wouldn't need to interact with Agatha but that also meant he wouldn't be able to see Anne.

As preparations continued, tents were dismantled, and supplies were loaded onto wagons. The soldiers checked their weapons and gear, readying themselves for the journey home. The fort they had reclaimed stood proudly in the distance, a symbol of their resilience and determination.

"Finally, it is done, commander." An older man approached Aldric as he oversaw the preparations. "Ah, perhaps I should refer you to your noble title, now?"

"Geoffrey," Aldric began with a weary sigh, though he was especially glad his vice commander, Baron Geoffrey, was still standing next to him, "it has been a long and grueling campaign. The reclaiming of the fort and the preparations for our return have taken a toll on us all."

Sir Geoffrey nodded in understanding, his loyalty to his commander unwavering. "Indeed, my lord. It has been a demanding campaign, one that tested the mettle of our men. But our victory was hard-fought and well-deserved."

Aldric's gaze turned distant as he contemplated the price of their victory. "The lives lost in battle," he paused, "they weigh heavy on my conscience."

Sir Geoffrey, ever the stalwart adviser, responded with a solemn nod. "War is a cruel mistress, my lord. Sacrifices are made to safeguard our kingdom and its people. We honor their memory."

They came as a battalion of eight hundred strong. Aldric couldn't bear to look at the census now. Aldric was a commander who understood the cost of leadership.

Finally, Sir Geoffrey broke the silence, his voice measured and respectful. "My lord, may I speak freely?"

Aldric nodded, acknowledging the trust he placed in his Vice Commander. "Of course, Geoffrey. Your counsel has always been valued."

Sir Geoffrey chose his words carefully. "It is about Lady Agatha, my lord. Rumors of her actions in your absence have spread throughout the castle. Some say she has forgotten your return date and has made plans of her own."

Aldric's brow furrowed in surprise and concern, he couldn't conceal his disappointment. "Forgotten my return date?" he repeated, a note of disbelief in his voice. "What plans has she made?"

Sir Geoffrey hesitated briefly before responding. "A gathering with friends, my lord. On the eve of your return."

Aldric's expression grew grim as he considered the implications. "A gathering," he muttered. His thoughts turned inward as he pondered the challenges that lay ahead.

Sir Geoffrey, the steadfast Vice Commander and trusted adviser to Viscount Aldric, found himself deeply concerned about his commander's marital issues.

As he contemplated the complexities of Aldric's marriage and the challenges he faced, Geoffrey couldn't help but draw a parallel between his commander and his own son, who was the same age as Aldric. Geoffrey's thoughts turned to his son, who was a young man of honor and integrity, much like the viscount he served. He imagined the burden of Aldric's responsibilities as both a commander and a husband, and the toll it must take on a man of his age.

"Well," Geoffrey sighed fondly, "that's the married life for you."

Unbeknownst to Geoffrey, Aldric's marriage was nearly a forced marriage. After all, he would not be given a higher noble peerage after the campaign if his wife's rank was lower.

"Thank you, Geoffrey," he said.

With the platoon's preparations complete, they set out on their journey back to the heart of their kingdom, carrying with them the news of their triumphant return. As they marched, the fort on the boundary faded into the distance, a reminder of the challenges they had overcome and the home they longed to reach.

Viscount Aldric's return to the heart of his kingdom was bittersweet. For how many years, he had not received a single letter from his wife, Agatha, nor from the maid named Anne, whom he had once been so in love with during his youth.

As he rode through the familiar countryside, the rolling hills and lush forests of his homeland, Viscount Aldric's thoughts were consumed by questions and uncertainty.

Anne, the maid whose memory still haunted him. Their love had been forbidden, a secret flame that had burned brightly in their youth. But she had moved on, it seemed. Since his marriage to Agatha, Anne had lived like a ghost in the castle, it seemed like she no longer loved him back. Wanting to respect her boundaries, Aldric distanced himself from her.

The memory of his union with Agatha, orchestrated by her family, had been a bitter pill to swallow.  Agatha was spoiled and demanding, her character and temperament far from what he had hoped for in a partner.

Aldric had seen the military campaign as a means of escape, a way to distance himself from the marriage he had been forced into.

In the solitude of the open road, with the wind rustling through the trees and the world unfolding before him, Aldric found a moment of clarity. He knew that his commitment to Lady Agatha, forced as it may have been, was a duty he must uphold. The passionate love he had shared with Anne in his youth could no longer be a part of his life.

It was a decision that carried a heavy burden of emotion and regret, but he recognized that it was the right course of action.

He hoped he was wrong.