011 - Troubles Begin

The hooves of the horses hammered the ground, and with each second that passed the earth trembled due to the fifty horses that charged down the road.

The charge of the soldiers forced the people of Old Meadow to pull to the side to avoid being trampled because the arrogant soldiers showed no care at all as they charged into the heart of the village square.

They didn't stop when they reached the bonfire, instead, they started to circle the fire with the horseshoes of the horses cracking the cobbled road.

They continued circling the fire until every set of eyes were on them and the elderly Mayor Jonah Burton came walking out of his inn with his walking cane in hand.

When the soldiers stopped, a man in a full set of steel armour covering every inch of his body and with two swords in his belt stepped down from his horse.

Thud.

The ground shook where he landed and several cracks in the road extended from beneath his feet.

Angered scowls took the faces of the residents of Old Meadow as every single one of them knew who the man was, Sir Lambert, one of the knights serving the new queen and the thief who had been demanding all of their food.

Old man Jonah stepped up to him with an unfriendly expression, "I thought that we agreed that you and your men would not set foot in the village during the festival," he said.

Lambard stood still and turned to one of his men who still sat on his horse with a long bow attached to his back, "Why don't you tell the kind mayor what you told me, Harald," he said in a smug tone.

The archer pulled off his helm and scratched his stubble beard with a playful smile on his mug.

"See good mayor me and the boys here have been protecting your lands from bandits and whatnot for months now, and we've been missing home,"

"It's been so long since we've celebrated any special festival, and you know Cair Andriel is one of the most important nights of the year,"

"It's so hard on us to go on without the company of families, then we saw your lovely bonfire here and couldn't help but feel a little jealous,"

"How can the lot of you celebrate with food and drink while we your honourable soldiers have to sleep in dull tents on the mud and eat the scraps you send our way, it's just not very fair," Harald explained every word of his was full of mockery.

"See," Lambert shrugged, "Now I couldn't deny my men a chance to let off some steam, grumpy soldiers make for bad soldiers, and when soldiers get grumpy they aren't very good at their job then who knows how many bandits they might miss by accident," he said with a voice full of disregard.

"Fock ya bastards!" the angry shout of Sean Jolter erupted from the crowd and he pushed his way forward angrily yelling.

"None of ya fockers are welcome here, so see ye' selves out before we make ya!" he shouted as he got up close and into the face of Lambert and smashed his pitchfork down on the ground between them.

Like all the average men of Old Meadow Sean was easily 7 feet tall and in comparison, the armoured knight was over a foot shorter but when faced with the intimidating stature of Sean he merely tilted his head up and gave him a cocky look, daring him to do something.

"Sir where shall I put an arrow through him, shall it be his knee or his balls?" Harald asked as he knocked an arrow in his bow and pulled it all the way back.

Lambert smiled, "That depends," he whispered, "Where would you like the arrow?" he asked looking at Sean with a carefree smile.

"If we put it through your knee you'll never walk again, but if we put it through your balls you'll never be able to please your wife again," Lambert laughed and the entire group of soldiers all chuckled in response.

"We'll sir when you put it like that then the only option is to take his balls," replied Harald with a quizzical expression.

"Oh, and why is that?" Lambert asked with amusement.

"Well you see sir, taking his leg would be a tragedy, there's no recovering from that," he said in a pitying voice.

"But as for pleasing his wife... well as long as she doesn't look like a bear I'm sure that any one of the boys will be able to take over, sir aren't I kind?" Herald asked with a mocking smile.

The faces of the villagers went red with anger, and all of a sudden Sean took a swing at the captain.

But before he could reach the captain a hand caught him from the crowd and several of the men pulled him back, but he didn't go back without cursing and swearing, it didn't stop until someone forcefully muffled him.

A crooked smile appeared on Lambert's face as he was forced to fully tilt his head up to look at the man who had stopped Sean and taken his place.

Standing at 9 feet tall was Jack the village blacksmith, and if his height wasn't the thing of fear, then the huge bulky muscles as thick as the trunk of a tree that he obtained working the forge were the things of nightmares.

Despite the presence of Jack the crooked and fearless smile never left Lambert's face, "Ah, yes I've heard of you, Jack the Smith," he whispered with an amused smile.

"You know you'd make a fine addition to her Majesty Celestia Rothwart's ranks," he said giving Jack a pat on the shoulder, strange as it seemed Jacks's knees bent and trembled with each little pat, as if he was being struck by a bolder.

"I don't have any interest in fighting a war," Jack replied coldly.

"Oh, that's too bad," Lambert muttered, then he looked around at the entire crowd, "How many of you know what's the charge for attempting to attack a Knight of the rightful queen's court?" he asked as his eyes narrowed onto Sean in the distance.

As Lambert spoke his archer tilted his bow and loosed an arrow.

It whistled at a horrific speed faster than anyone could follow, all they heard was the thud.

The crowd scampered aside and found one of the men holding Sean back with the arrow having gone straight through the edge of his shoe and pinning him to the ground.

"Uh, sorry about that captain my aim was a little off," Harald apologized with a fake smile and drew another arrow.

"Enough!" Mayor Jonah roared and slammed his walking cane against the ground.

"You can stay and enjoy the food and drinks," the mayor conceded with an air of defeat.

Lambert raised his hand and clenched his fist, and immediately the archer seized his action.

"Very well, you see I'm not an unforgiving man," he chuckled, "You should tell that man to be more careful in the future, there aren't many people as lenient as I," he said.

"Sir this isn't what the boys were hoping for, but since it's your decision we won't fight you," Harald complained as he slid his bow into the quiver on his back.

The knight chuckled lightly and turned to the mayor, "I expect what I asked for before I leave," he said and at the mention of his words several more horses came running into the village, these ones were pulling a dozen carts with thick rolled-up tarps.

Uriel watched from the side while holding onto Cassandra's hand, both of them were trembling in anger much like those all around them and their only comfort was the presence of each other.

They were forced to watch as the soldiers broke from their horses tying them wherever they felt like, then they started to grab whatever food and drink they could find.

As things were the village was already short on food and drink, they didn't even prepare half the amount of food they usually used for the festival all because of the soldiers, and now those scummy soldiers were pigging out with the little they set aside for their celebration.

The villagers could only bottle it up and do their best to avoid the soldiers.

Uriel and Cassandra walked along the side of the road as they went to look for their parents, with the soldier's presence they didn't feel much like staying.

But as they walked a soldier approached putting his arm between Uriel and Cassandra, acting as if Uriel wasn't there he smiled at Cassandra, "Why don't you come and give me a little dance girl," the soldier requested with a filthy smile and reached for her face.

Uriel turned around with the veins in his forehead bulging and he grabbed the soldier's arm before it could make contact with Cassandra, there was no way that he would ever allow a filthy swine to lay a finger on her.