Ch - 14 Another boring chapter
As the carriage gradually approached Witton Fortress, Lewis eagerly gazed out of his window. The imposing structure of Witton Fortress unfolded before his eyes, standing tall and robust with its formidable stone walls reaching defiantly into the sky. Along the top, battlements lined up like a row of jagged teeth, ready to fend off any potential threat. Towers punctuated the fortress, each serving as a sentinel overseeing the vast expanse. Flags proudly bearing the kingdom's insignia fluttered in the breeze, creating a vivid display of colors against the stern gray backdrop of the fortress.
The main gate, intricately designed, loomed large on the horizon. Adorned with imposing iron portcullises, it spoke volumes about the fortress's impregnability. As the carriage approached, Lewis could discern guards patrolling the ramparts, their vigilant eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger.
The main gate swung open as Lewis's carriage approached, and behind the gates, the lord of Witton Fortress himself emerged to welcome Lewis. Stepping down from the carriage alongside his friends, Lewis was greeted by the rotund lord of Witton, who approached with a bow. "I welcome Young Master Lewis Sawbridge to our humble abode. Please follow me, Young Master. We have prepared a place for you to stay until you finish your work," the lord graciously invited.
The lord ushered Lewis and his friends through the majestic entrance of Witton Fortress, leading them to their assigned residence. The accommodations awaiting him were nothing short of majestic. The living quarters exuded spaciousness, adorned with opulent tapestries illustrating the proud history of the fortress. Polished wooden furniture embellished the rooms, and expansive windows framed sweeping views of the fortress grounds and the surrounding landscape. Every room was meticulously appointed, plush beds beckoned of restful sleep. The walls adorned with paintings and heraldic emblems further contributed to the overall ambiance of grandeur.
After guiding Lewis and his friends to their lodgings, the lord took his leave, allowing them to rest after their lengthy journey and extending an invitation for dinner later in the evening. Once the lord departed, Lewis directed his captain of guards to position guards at strategic locationss. Meanwhile, the remaining guards, who had broken off earlier, were instructed to await further orders.
Lewis opted for a refreshing bath after enduring a considerable amount of time on the road. With the assistance of the maidservants left behind by the Lord of Witton to attend to his needs, he indulged in a lengthy soak. Once they had assisted him in dressing, Lewis politely dismissed everyone, citing the need for some rest.
After bidding farewell to the attendants, Lewis discovered himself in the serene confines of Witton Fortress. The gentle flicker of candles bestowed a warm glow upon the room as he eased into a comfortable chair. He dozed off in the chair for an extended period until he was roused by the guards stationed at the door, signaling that somebody had arrived for a visit. Welcoming his visitor, Lewis reflected on the task his father had entrusted him with.
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Lord Sawbridge fixed his steely gaze upon his son. "While Witton Fortress boasts formidable defenses, its lord Silverfield has proven himself devoid of any true loyalty. During the last conflict, he thought only of his own hide - pledging troth to our foes when the tides turned against us, only to later stab them in the back when victory was assured for our side."
Disgust colored Jon Sawbridge's tone as he spoke of the fickle lord. With a derisive snort, he continued. "Silverfield is the last man I would entrust this fortress to during such turbulent times. No, the only one I can rely on to keep Witton secured is my own blood."
Reaching out, Lord Sawbridge clasped his son firmly upon the shoulder, his piercing eyes boring into Lewis' own. "Which is why I am charging you with assuming command of this fortress. Upon your arrival, I will see official documents drawn up and signed by the king himself, naming you Witton's acting lord throughout the duration of the war."
He gave Lewis' shoulder a resolute squeeze. "You must maintain control here at all costs. Fortify what defenses you must. Do whatever is necessary to keep Witton locked down tight as a drum until the last echoes of war have faded." Lord Sawbridge held his son's gaze for a long moment, silently communing the gravity of his duty.
"I place Witton firmly in Sawbridge hands now. See that it remains so, my son."
"Though Witton Fortress may lie distant from where the brunt of the fighting shall occur, one can ill afford to lower their guard with regards to neighboring allies in such tumultuous times," Lord Sawbridge intoned gravely.
"While this fortress does not directly border the contested lands that shall soon be soaked in blood, that should garner us no comfort. Wars have a way of spreading like wildfire - what begins as a distant spark may rapidly blaze out of control."
Jon Sawbridge paced the room, his boots striking the stone floor in a sharp staccato as he continued his monologue. "Mark my words, old loyalties and ties between nobles mean little when survival is at stake. Desperate men do desperate things, and desperate lords sacrifice their honor quicker than blinking."
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