Disclaimer: As always, I do not own any recognizable characters, but this plot is all mine.

These Castle Walls

Three months later…

His face fell as he received the news from home. Deep down, he always knew this day would come, but secretly he had hoped it would never happen for his childhood friend. Charles sank down in his chair and began to think of what he should do next. He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't heard the young man enter his tent.

"Your grace…good news! Your grace?" "Huh? Oh yes, come, come. Speak" he gestured to the young gent. "We've broken through the gate, my lord." "Excellent! I shall lead the charge myself. Ready 50 men" he commanded. "But sir, wouldn't it be better if" "No…I shall lead them!" he glared at him now. Then Charles' eyes softened as he saw the man's expression of concern. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to yell. Just ready the men please" he sighed. "Of course" the young man said with a nod and left the tent.

Charles thought again of the news he'd received only an hour ago. Get it out of your head, man! He yelled at himself now. Steeling himself, he marched out of the tent and climbed onto his horse. The duke rode off, heading for the castle. He now knew that today was it. They would end this war here and now.

He rode through the gate, sword drawn as a few arrows whizzed by his head. Charles met metal over and over as he took down several French soldiers. As he neared the center of the fortress, he saw a rider approaching, sword in hand. The other rider struck Charles' horse, sending it crashing to the ground and flinging the duke over its head. Charles landed on his back with a thud, causing the air to escape his lungs in a huff.

Just as the rider got off his own horse and began to attack, Charles scrambled up from the ground. The Frenchman was a good fighter, meeting Charles blow for blow. After several minutes, the duke finally stabbed the man's side, but not before his arm was sliced just above the elbow. Charles hissed as the sting came. Their swords clanged a few more times and then Charles lunged at the soldier. The Frenchman stepped to the side just in time and sliced open Charles' back.

The duke fell to his knees, crying out, as the pain hit him like lightning against a tree. He then fell, face first, to the ground. Charles rolled over so that he could look to the sky. His opponent withdrew his helmet and gave a smug laugh. The duke looked up through the haze over his eyes to see the man before him. "King Francis?" "Hello again, Charles" he grinned. The king raised his sword, ready to deal the final blow. He began to laugh again as his arm moved down towards Charles' chest. Then an arrow pierced his neck and he fell dead beside the duke.

It was over. The war had just been won by the English. Charles lay there, chuckling to himself. He then began to think of Anne as he started to cough up blood. Sweet Anne…how I'll miss you, he thought. The duke looked to the blue sky and whispered one final word before everything went dark.