- Song of The Page -
HORNS: BRYCE FOX

The heavy-spirited drumroll of army's march fell on Westguard's borders. It moved as one, a sea of silver, as if there were just one brain instead of many. The right legs moved in unison and then the left legs. With each step the sound of the boots on the cold tarmac echoed like the warning thunder of a coming storm. It rumbled into the very bones of the border of the west side, and had drawn the attention of the startled and horrified men of Lushberg.

A bitter wind swept through them to alert the arrival of Ostrock. Not even a bird's chirp came to their ears as if the birds escaped sensing the prominent danger. The men at the guard post rushed to get their weapons, and to inform their superior. A few slack-jawed guards stood there frozen watching the upcoming doom. They had thought the enemy was defeated-- a grave mistake from their part.

After capturing the Ostrock's— newly recruited and untrained— men, they had reduced their guard at their borders. It was almost pitiable how they fell for that simple yet effective strategy.

"Ho-How come they're here?" One of the guard asked another.

"How would I know?" The other asked as he held his spear feeling the tension in his bones making his limbs rattle.

"But even our scours didn't warn us about this!"

"They must be dead by now."

"We don't have any other choice. We'll have to keep them occupied till more force comes for our help." 

The message was clear for the Lushberg soldiers they had no other choice but to fight. If they tried to escape they would be killed by their own countrymen. There were only two ways, accept death by the hands of an enemy and die with a "brave soldier" tag or die at the hands of their own comrades by the "coward" tag.

The Ostrock army got engaged in a fight with the Lushberg soldiers around the outskirts of the Westguard and it wouldn't take them much time to wipe out their enemies and claim the victory. General Stefan of Ostrock kingdom was quite infamous in the land for being the most ferocious man who was like a  rampaging bull in the battlefield. There was no stopping him and no man had ever defeated him except for the ninth Prince of Ostrock. 

The soft breeze passed through the trees making the leaves rustle with it, the midnight black strands danced with the passing breeze. A few yards away, under the shades of trees, a deep brown stallion stood with a tall man wearing a silver armour with his long sword strapped to his hip. His dark eyes were taking in the battle raging before him. It was a one sided battle, and he knew that very well, that's why he had been standing away letting the General and the soldiers do the work.

The stallion whined and the man placed his hand on the horse's neck patting it gently, the horse seemed eager to join his men-at-arms or rather, horses-at-arms. He snorted at his master who simply patted his companion. The said man was the ninth prince of Ostrock whose name sent the shivers of terror in lto the enemy's cores. Rogan Deust Joseph Loreck Vonn Daardendrian. 

"Of course, we shall be going but not yet, my friend," he said to his companion. It was easy to understand your horse when you had known each other for generations.

A dark smirk played on His Highness's lips. His silver armour was shiny, but in some places rusted. There were still cuts, scrapes and dents from when it was used in countless battles which had always led to victory. The arrogant glint of the metal seemed to reflect the authority of the person wearing it. The lion's crest was engraved with gold and red on the heart of the armour proudly declaring Ostrock's power.

A line of Lushberg men fighting his troops with half of them having spears and maces. The dark maroon eyes showed their wrath and their canines glimpsed from their lips ready to pounce on their prey. He almost snorted in disgust. They were normal men-at-arms.

He had brought over 500 men in Westguard's ground; an opening tactic to show off power. Right display of might could have saved them the bother of wasting time and good men. So many battles had been won with an impressive display of horses and well woven banners. The more they won the further their reputation spread, the more cities fell without so much as a whimper. Those that fought they wiped off the faces of the map save a few to spread the tale onwards. The king wanted a kingdom and he wasn't much bothered how he got it.

However, Lushberg wasn't easy to conquer. Only the Westguard had been under a siege and their siege lord, the count— his next target— was probably hiding in his castle forming battle strategies. It would be a matter of time, when their first line of defense would fall.

Westguard's men charged on them. Clanking of weapons and a new series of profanities coated the air with miasma. His men had the exits covered, there was nowhere to run.

Apparently, Prince Rogan had offered them peace first, a chance to surrender on his terms, something they had of course refused days ago. Then the first blow came as a decoy, a single strategy to made them feel higher. Then came the open battle of surprise attack. Perhaps it wasn't a fair fight, but then, when did he fought fairly anyway?

He smiled and gripped the hilt of his sword tighter as it had been so long he hadn't had much time to perform his best skill: chopping off some heads or arms or legs perhaps.

His fingers twitched to wield his sword and join the battle. However, he could see his men were enough for chopping off enemy's heads and were having all the fun he was missing. He could feel his swordsmanship slowly having rust and dust.

The ground glistened like rain had fallen, the liquid that shone wasn't clear but red; his favourite colour.

The men who were crushed, pawns in a game of warlords, were for the most part dead and those who were not soon would be. His smile broadened.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a giant man muscled adorned with steel approaching him, "Your Highness, we have captured the half of them however, there are a few men who were attacking from behind the prison barrier."

He nodded. "What about our recruited companions?"

General shook his head. Clearly, either they were dead or ran away. They could not kill them without getting any information but it didn't disturb him.

"What now?"

"Call the archers. We don't want to lose anymore of my men, do we? After all, it's an easy win."

He opened his mouth when both of the men heard shouting from the prison building. They both turned toward the great building that stood a few yards away. From it, around thirty men came out shouting and almost everyone of them had a different kind of fire in them. With so much enthusiasm, they swung their swords they almost looked like madmen on the loose.

Prince Rogan arched a brow and noticed the men had the uniforms and crest of Ostrock. They charged on the soldiers who had been shooting arrows from the building and managed to abolish their existence from mother of Vernon.

"It seems they are not fully useless." The ninth prince had to praise them as that building was infamous for its torturous techniques. However, his own techniques were far more dangerous and fun.

"Indeed, my Lord."

"General Stefan," he looked at the mountain of a man in front of him and said, "capture the rest of their men. We have wasted enough time. And after this send half of the men to south-east."

"As per your command, Your Highness." He bowed deeply and added, "What about the peasants and the lands?"

"Stefan," Prince Rogan's voice turned dark and he asked, "what is the purpose of this war?"

"Take down Slithrot?"

"That is quite right almost. But apart from that?"

"Conquer the lands of other nations."

His sinister canines peeked and he was pleased with the answer. 

"Needless to say you are an intelligent general and you know what to do." 

The General was about to turn and walk off when His Highness added, "Don't harm the women and children. Men who had surrendered, bring them to Ostrock. They will be our captive until the war is over. Look out for humans, we need them for breeding. Capture them and bring them over, make sure not to kill them."

"What about the men who hadn't surrendered?"

"Isn't that quite an idiotic question?"

A glint sparked in Stefan's eyes like some hidden hunger had rose and he nodded.

"Kill them. Not a soul shall be spared."

With another bow, the general went away.

The Prince departed to the other side watching his knights from the shadows of the trees and he had been very pleased that his men were doing it quite professionally. The ground had bathed with splashes of blood while cries of men echoed through the air. There was another kind of aroma that lingered in the air and Prince Rogan had to admit, it was his favourite scent so far: blood. He missed it however, he just had his meal not too long ago.

His eyes watched the diabolical situation like a hawk, not a single thing had missed. He saw how well his men had cut through each of their throats. It was just how he liked it; sharp and clean. His muscles clenched and a devilish smile appeared on his face thinking what would be the reaction of his enemy when they hear their allies had been knocked down and slaughtered.

Lushberg was allies with Slithrot, the same kingdom who had abducted or maybe killed his dear brother. And they were going to pay for it.

Faint memories of his older brother flashed before his mind's eye. How he had liked to bury himself in art and never once desired to hold a sword. No matter how their father would pressurise him or insult him, he never liked to kill anyone. He had always said when a life was born it was the most beautiful art of nature.

His fantasies were very odd for Rogan and the rest of his brothers to understand however, it would not stop Rogan to kill or wield a sword to take his revenge on the Slithrot King.

He grinned, a dark miasma seeping out of him. How ironic! His dear brother was against taking life however, to avenge his death he had to take lives.

Hate and enmity welled up in his heart, fury itself burned in him.

One by one they would conquer each allied kingdoms of Slithrot until they had no friends to help them and that would be enough to corner them, then comes the declaration of war.

He was having a satisfied grin when he felt a sharp edge pressing at his back. He went still.

Was a soldier of Lushberg attacking him from behind? What a praiseworthy soldier! He was thinking about using his sword. Well, the deity had granted his wish! 

His right hand was about to reach when a voice startled him, "I would not do that if I were you." The tip pressed a little hard this time but it didn't evoke an reaction, nevertheless Rogan was shocked.

A female?

A female!

His mouth hung open.

The fact that a female held a blade at him wasn't that strange as he often had a few female companions who wielded swords to make the situation a bit more interesting for him. But that tip of the sword was touching the very part of his manly body which was pretty important for certain cases. It was slightly disturbing.

He looked down at the blade which were firmly pressed against under his mail skirt between his strong thighs. Slowly he tilted his head toward the stranger who had the gall of pressing the sword... down there.

She was a foot shorter than him. Well, very short to be precise. Held a sword that was large for her small stature but her small hand made it look like it belonged there, otherwise. However, he could not see her face as it was hidden under a black mask.

His brows twitched. A woman was threatening him with his... reproductive organ?

Now that indeed was interesting!

"Now, would you be so kind to not shout, and let me abduct you?"

If his mouth was hung open previously, now it had found a comfortable spot on the floor. Interesting indeed!

He was completely baffled by the woman's announcement that he only faintly noticed when she touched— slid something around his wrists.

"What is that?" He wondered feeling something sticking to his gauntlets.

She didn't answer but he heard a strange sound and his wrists suddenly jerked at his back, he tried to pull his arms but it seemed as if they were restricted. She cuffed him!

Vampire Deity's teeth! A woman abducting Prince of Ostrock? Now that didn't sound quite interesting to him at all. Especially when his men were a few hundred yards fighting a winning battle.

The black shadow in front of him put her hands on her hips and tilted her head around and said, "Well, there's no car here." Her hand reached her jaw that was covered by the black cloth, "Hmm... Now, how the hell will I kidnap you and escape from this stupid place?"

Then her gaze fell on his warhorse.

She wasn't thinking to abduct him with his own horse, was she?

"Ah! That's a perfect vehicle standing here for us to escape!" She moved her body and patted on his stallion's neck and motioned with her sword, "Now, now, Knighty Knight, why don't you hop on it, already?"

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[Edited by Sam8136 2nd draft: 28.02.2020 Third draft: 25th July, 2020]
(2365 words)
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A/n
Hello, my Lords and Ladies...
Here's the newly written part 1 of chapter 2.

How'd you like it? Especially some special POV attached? ;)

I am enjoying rewriting the stuff and I'm also enjoying writing Rogan's POV

IMPORTANT NOTICE:

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©Haruka Tachibana