Long Journey Home

by Zivon96

Sequel to The Last Stand. With the fall of the Warborn Union at the Battle of Fort Sigrun, the Blackstone Legion begins their return to Ashfeld. However, the remnants of the Union still live, and though their leaders have fallen, they are dedicated to freeing their comrades and rebuilding their order. The chill of winter is fading, but with the end of winter, the wolves awaken.

5. Via Ferros

Hilde

Hilde gripped her spear and grit her teeth as she followed Layla through the Blackstone Legion's camp. The two of them, dressed in the garb of Blackstone soldiers, had snuck their way into the camp of the Blackstone Legion, claiming to be reinforcements from Ashfeld. They had brought a small battalion of soldiers with them, twenty in number, and had gradually spread them throughout the camp, with orders to act once they were given the signal.

Though she was admittedly near terrified, having always worked as a scout rather than a spy, Hilde did have to admit she had been impressed with Layla's skill as such when she got the lot of them into the camp. Their party had approached the Blackstone camp at sunset, with the peacekeeper on horseback, while the rest of them were on foot. Of course, the camp watchmen were quick to halt them in their tracks and demand they identify themselves.

Layla dismounted her horse and strode right up to the conqueror who had spoken. And presented him with a scroll bearing the symbol of a grey swan on a blue field. "Lady Marion Swann of Waterstop." Layla said, bowing slightly, and gesturing to the soldiers behind her. "I come with the first of the reinforcements from my sister Elissa Swann, taken from the ranks of our army, the River Legion."

Having been briefed beforehand, Hilde knew that all but their true identity was the truth. The River Legion, run by the Swann family, had declared for the Blackstone Legion, the Blackstones having driven out a Samurai war band from the Waterstop region. As repayment, Elissa Swann, current lady of House Swann, Waterstop's ruling family, had declared her family's army for Blackstone. She also knew that Lady Swann's younger sister Marion had trained as a peacekeeper, though she had yet to see true combat.

"May we hurry this along?" Layla said, still impersonating Marion Swann. "It is dreadfully cold here, my soldiers have been marching all day, and I would like to state to my sister that the Blackstone Legion allowed us into their camp before my soldiers froze in Valkenheim's cold."

The guard in question removed his visor to look over the note. His eyes moved quickly over the note, and Hilde prayed to any gods she could think of that Layla's writing was close enough to the noblewoman of Swann to fool him.

Returning the scroll to Layla, the conqueror did not take his eyes off her. "The Swanns surely have a larger force than this. Is this pittance all that could be brought north?"

Layla shook her head. "My force is much larger, however, a late winter snowstorm and raids by the barbarians of this land forced us to take refuge. Many of my men lie injured in a fortress a day's march south, but I led the remainder here with me."

"I have heard of viking attacks on our supply convoys." The guard replied. "And yet you have one of these barbarians in your company." He added, gesturing to her.

Hilde had a strong desire to feed this man his shield, but Layla spoke before she could give a reply. "My sister's choice, I had no say in this. I assure you, however, Freydis is perfectly tame, aren't you, my dear?"

Hilde knew the condescension in Layla's voice was false, but it still irked her to no end, to the point where she was unable to do more than simply nod, lest she spit an answer and make their case worse.

"Now, if you do not mind, I would like to give the report on my men's injuries to Aryen." Layla said, mounting her horse once again. Have you other questions, I urge you to ask them now. Otherwise, I ask that you return my scroll and allow me to go on my way."

The guard sighed heavily and handed the Swann sealed scroll back to Layla, who Hilde could simply feel smirking behind her mask. "Welcome to the Blackstone Legion, Lady Swann."

"My family was recruited into the Legion a month ago, but thank you for the recognition." Layla said dismissively. She cracked the reins and urged her horse forward, the troops on foot following close behind her.

While impressed with Layla's acting as a noblewoman, Hilde still could not help but feel nervous, those nerves only growing more as more of their men trailed off to their positions throughout the camp. She knew it had to be done, as having their forces scattered through the camp was vital to the success of their mission, but she still felt as though their force was growing weaker by the second. Still though, she remained quiet, even as the camp prison came into view.

"Nervous?" Layla asked, hitching her horse outside the prison.

"Is it that noticeable?" She replied.

"You're quieter than usual." Layla pointed out, dismounting and gesturing towards the rows of cages and stakes. "Usually, even on a mission, you'd be talking to me occasionally. Something's on your mind, and I'm guessing it's nerves."

"I'm not usually the one on the stealth mission." Hilde replied. "I track things and then stab them, but you're always the sneaky one."

"Well, I need a bit of muscle on this mission." Layla replied, leading Hilde into the rows of cages and stakes. "Every noble needs a bodyguard, and who better to intimidate than the largest woman I know."

Hilde smirked and rolled her eyes. It was hard to believe she had to be the one reminding Layla not to put a crossbow bolt into Aryen Diamond not two days prior. The peacekeeper always was more focused when on a mission. "So, we're in the camp, we've found the prison, now what?"

"Now we find the prison warden." Layla muttered, just loud enough for her to hear. Likely a sign for her to quiet down and play the part of the loyal bodyguard. "You there!" She called out, getting the attention of another conqueror and a peacekeeper next to her. "Tell me, who is the warden of this prison?"

"Who's asking?" The peacekeeper replied, accusatively.

Layla didn't flinch at the tone. "Marion Swann, second daughter of House Swann of Waterstop. My forces and I have just arrived from Ashfeld, and I wish to acquaint myself with this army."

"Oh, apologies Lady Swann." The conqueror replied, bowing her head in the presence of the noblewoman. "My name is Charlotte Durand, and Lord Richard assigned me as warden of the prison." She gestured to the peacekeeper next to her. "This is my companion and confidant, Soleil."

Hilde frowned beneath her helmet. She had heard those names before. Soleil had been an old friend of Layla's during her time in the Blackstone Legion, the two of them taking part in many a mission together. From assassinations to espionage to scouting missions, Soleil and Layla had been a team for much of it. Hilde could neither hear nor see it, but she knew Layla had sucked in a breath upon seeing her old companion. She would have to be even more careful, lest her voice sound familiar.

"There will be none of that, girl." Layla replied, gesturing for the conqueror to rise. "Can't show too much in front of the prisoners, can we?"

"Of course, you're right." The girl muttered, looking away from the supposed noblewoman in front of her.

Hilde stood by as the silence continued, though Layla broke it after a few seconds. "So, girl, report. Tell me who these prisoners are."

"Of course." Charlotte replied. "The prisoners here now were taken from the Warborn Union after the fall of Fort Sigrun. Most were taken off the battlefield after the enemy general lost trial by combat to Knight Commander Diamond, however, some were also taken from the dungeons of the fort, as well as some taken on the way to and from the fort."

Hilde cast her eyes about the prison, taking in the status of the prisoners for herself as Charlotte gave her report to Layla. Most looked defeated or defiant, just as one would expect of Blackstone prisoners. The Blackstones had even left the prisoners in their armour while in their cells. Layla had explained this to her once; it was to ensure the prisoners remembered that they had chosen the wrong side in battle, as well as to wear them out quicker. Any prisoner who collapsed from exhaustion on the road was put to death as a sheep, while those who kept moving were recruited as wolves. Looking through the ranks of prisoners in their armour, however, something caught her eye.

Pointing to a woman tied to a stake in lacquered armour of the samurai, Hilde asked Charlotte her first question. "What about the samurai? Where did they come from?"

Charlotte followed her eyes and nodded. "When we engaged the Warborn Union, it appears they had several samurai soldiers in their ranks. The samurai leader took her own life after the battle, and we believe this one was the next in the chain of command."

Hilde and Layla looked toward the woman. She looked haggard, and kept her eyes trained on the ground, a broken mask lying at her feet. "Have you gotten anything out of her?" Layla asked.

Charlotte shook her head. "That one's not said a word to any but her own since they were captured. Reports say she was one of the samurai commander's retainers, took it pretty hard when she died."

"I'd imagine watching your commander take their own life might be difficult." Layla replied. "What about her own? You said she spoke to them, was anything overheard?"

Again, the conqueror shook her head. "We don't have any interpreters, and she's only spoken in Japanese. There was one who she spoke to regularly, one of the larger samurai, a shugoki, if I remember right."

"I would imagine a man like that would be easy to spot." Layla said. "Where is he?"

"Gone." Soleil replied. "He was taken to the headsman's block just before you arrived. Decided we couldn't afford to feed someone like that, even were he a wolf. Not with the vikings raiding our supplies."

"Was he alone when he was taken?" Hilde asked.

"Several were taken when he was. Sheep, mostly, those who couldn't fight or were of no use to the Legion, along with one rabid wolf."

Layla cocked her head. "A rabid wolf?" If she hadn't asked, Hilde probably would have herself. She was familiar with the terms used by the Blackstone Legion, however, that one was new to her, and by Layla's reaction, new to her as well.

It was Charlotte who answered. "Knight Commander Diamond coined it. When he returned this morning, he and Lord Richard gave their first inspection of the prisoners. A handful were recruited as wolves, some against their will, but others were marked for death. Just moments ago, Lord Richard returned and gathered the sheep to be slaughtered. Some resisted and were recruited, but the rest were led off. Three knights, were taken, along with the shugoki and a man Lord Richard and Knight Commander Diamond declared was…" Charlotte paused for a moment, and even someone as blunt as Hilde could sense her trepidation and discomfort with the words she was trying to force out. "He called the man 'more animal than man, a beast who would just as soon turn on its master than its foes.' And he was probably right." Charlotte said, letting out a sigh. "Most of the vikings we've conscripted were too terrified to recruit Bjorn the Plague."

Hilde's eyes widened and she nearly dropped her spear. "The Blackstone Legion captured that beast?" She blurted out. She of all people knew the stories about Bjorn the Plague. It was hard not to know of the elder brother to one's jarl, after all. Magnus and his older brother were fierce warriors, though they were different as night and day. While Magnus fought with shield and sword, armoured from head to toe, Bjorn eschewed both armour and shield, preferring to fight with twin axes. His already wild passion, combined with the substances he would take before battle turned what was once a fierce man into an utter monster. The man had a short temper, a fiery anger, and a hatred for all who dwelled outside Valkenheim. Godric and his knights were lucky Bjorn had allowed his younger brother to become jarl in his stead, else they would have been violently executed the second they were found. Even after Magnus allowed them into the Union, Bjorn was still often kept at a distance, often kept busy with scouting missions at all times. Magnus could never be sure whether any given day would be the one when his brother would snap and murder a knight or a viking who had grown close to a knight.

Charlotte's hand went to a pouch on her belt, and she hesitated in her response. Layla noticed this and pressed the issue. "You seem troubled by this. Did the beast harm you?"

"No, no, it's not that…" Charlotte muttered "It's…" She hesitated again. "Something else."

"We're listening, girl." Layla said, prodding her to keep talking. Her voice was gentle and soft when speaking to the conqueror, something even Hilde noticed. When Layla spoke to her, it genuinely sounded like she cared.

Charlotte sighed. "When I was young, just a girl really, my mother was kidnapped in a viking raid. When Soleil and I captured Bjorn, I saw he had one of my old dolls in his lair." She hesitated again. The words seemed painful to say, but still, Charlotte pushed herself on. "When I confronted him after putting him in his cage, he admitted that it had been him who had taken my mother from Ashfeld." Hilde thought she might have been finished, but after shaking her head, she spoke again. "I was ready to kill him for laying a hand on my mother, for taking her from me, but if his story is to be believed, and the vikings in this camp can be trusted, he didn't kill her. According to their stories, he married her."

Charlotte pulled a pouch from her belt and opened it, producing a small doll dressed in an elegant Ashfeld gown of green with yellow highlights. The colours of the Iron Legion. "This was mine when I was just a girl, I would know it anywhere." Charlotte continued. "I was suspicious when I found this with Bjorn, but his words and those of the vikings in camp…"

"You care for him?" Layla asked.

"No." Charlotte replied firmly. "No. He can say what he wants, but he still took my mother from me and… and he killed my companions and…"

"Charlotte." Layla said, laying a hand on the small of the girl's back. "You're a terrible liar."

The conqueror sighed. She pulled the helm from her head and let her blonde locks spill out. Hilde was surprised. Charlotte looked to be barely out of her teens, and yet she was still a loyal Blackstone. "I want answers." She admitted. "He took my mother from me, and supposedly married her. Whether he did or not, he's probably the only person who can tell me what happened to her, how she lived, how she…" Hilde could tell she was avoiding the topic of her mother's death, but the word 'died' still hung in the air, even unspoken.

"Charlotte." Layla said. "You still have time to get those answers."

"She does." Soleil said, finally speaking up and drawing Hilde's attention away from her comrade's discussion. She didn't dare move further, however, as Soleil had flung an arm around her shoulders, and moving at all ran the risk of pressing her neck against the dagger the peacekeeper now held against her neck. "But I think I would like some answers myself, Layla."

Layla let out a sigh of disappointment, and Charlotte suddenly straightened her back and gasped, eyes widening. She didn't move, however. "I never was as good at accents as you were, Soleil."

"I noticed when you dropped yours while talking to Charlotte." Soleil replied. "You really should practice before marching into enemy territory."

"It was always you in the disguises." Layla admitted. "But it was always me who snuck in the weapons. You may notice our dear Charlotte hasn't moved yet."

"The old knife up the sleeve trick." Soleil mused.

"It's pressed against her spine." Layla continued. "I see one drop of blood on that knife and she dies."

Hilde stood stock still through the entire conversation, making pleading eye contact with Layla and Charlotte, who mirrored her expression near perfectly despite Hilde's mask. She dared not move, breathe too hard, or speak, lest the dagger on her neck be brought just that little bit closer. She was petrified, Hel's grasp just a breath away. She was, however, impressed. Anyone passing by would not notice anything out of the ordinary unless they looked close enough. To a passerby, it merely appeared that Soleil had an arm around her shoulders and Layla had a hand on Charlotte's back. Just a few women talking, nothing out of the ordinary. Even when Layla and Soleil spoke they gave nothing away, their voices just loud enough to be heard by one another, their masks likely covering expressions of cold fury, hiding all anger from the camp.

"So where do we go from here?" Layla continued, Hilde still too nervous to even speak. "You could kill my friend, raise the alarm, and without question, seal my fate, but Charlotte would die before I do, I promise you that."

Hilde felt Soleil tense and resisted the urge to swallow. It was clear Soleil did not want Charlotte dead, so Layla still had one way to keep them alive. But walking out of the camp with Charlotte was hardly an option when they had a mission to complete. They were at an impasse until one or both parties ran out of patience or slipped up. And as Hilde had just seen, Layla was capable of such. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and Hilde could only pray it was a sign of the Allfather's favour.

"No matter what happens to the two of us," Layla said, Soleil having apparently run out of time to respond. "The Warborn Union will be getting these prisoners back. All four of us may be dead by the end of it, but this will happen."

"I assume you have a point, traitor." Soleil hissed.

"Patience." Layla quietly urged, Hilde silently agreeing, the cold metal of Soleil's dagger pressing against her windpipe. "I am giving you this chance to escape." Layla said simply. "Run away, rescue this Bjorn, maybe just demand to judge him yourself. A knight can still demand to speak to a prisoner before their death, use that chance. But escape this camp while you can. I can't guarantee your safety, but it's the best chance you have."

"How can we know your troops won't kill us?" Soleil quietly demanded.

"Our mission is to rescue our comrades, not to wreak vengeance." Layla said simply. "You two have this one chance to walk away. Though you both hail from Blackstone Hills, I know you did not join this Legion by choice. Charlotte, I know the Legion pressed you into service with the blood of a priest still on your hands, and Soleil, you chose the Legion over prison after being caught with that Merchant's daughter. Neither of you owe this marauding band anything. Escape now, and you can make it back to Ashfeld and find shelter with the Iron Legion."

"And why would they accept us?" Soleil shot back. "We wear the uniforms of their sworn enemies."

"Holden Cross himself is among the leadership of the Iron Legion, as are Mercy and Stone. All of them were once Blackstones of high rank." Layla replied.

"Soleil." The party turned to face Charlotte, her eyes pleading with her friend. "I… I want to speak with him."

"You're serious?" Soleil hissed.

Charlotte nodded. "They're right. Our army is still injured and recovering from the battle. If the Union attacks, no matter their goal, there will be blood. Remember Soleil, this is Layla. Who always follows Layla?"

No one needed to answer aloud to know. Arthur's strategic prowess was known throughout the Union, and Hilde could only imagine The Blackstones knew of it as well.

"We'll go." Charlotte said again, this time with more force in her voice.

"You heart her, Soleil." Layla said, voice void of emotion. "Let Hilde go, and forget you saw us."

Hilde resisted the urge to swallow as she felt Soleil tense up. The edge of her dagger could be felt against her throat, any pressure liable to spill her blood onto the camp grounds. The knife shook for just a fraction of a second, and Hilde could swear she was about to die, but a second later she heard the telltale sound of metal sliding against metal and the weapon was sheathed once more. She let out her breath and audibly sighed in relief.

"Find Bjorn and fast horses." Layla ordered. "You don't want to be here when the Union attacks."

Charlotte nodded and beckoned for Soleil to follow her. Though Soleil turned to flash one last masked glare to them, neither one said a word as they walked away. As the two faded from view, Hilde spoke for the first time since being identified, her voice feeling like a blessing after so long of being held hostage. "How can we be sure they won't tell Diamond or raise the alarm?"

Layla rose from where she sat and removed a pouch from her belt, producing a long burning signal flare from it. "We can't," she said, planting the flare in the ground and pulling out her tinderbox. "But if they do, it won't matter. Once this flare is lit, the camp gets swarmed by Arthur and Leif's forces. If they raise the alarm, that causes even more chaos."

Listening to Layla speak, it was almost easy to believe their forces could take the Blackstones. Almost. She did, however, know that once that flare went off, the camp would be in chaos. Moving quietly towards one of the cages, the lightly rapped on the bars, getting the attention of the Union members within. Removing her helmet, she watched their faces visibly light up, even if only for a few seconds. Hope was certainly something rare in this prison, but it was visible in their eyes. The sense only got stronger as she began to explain their plan for escape, telling them to spread the word across the camp and be ready to move as soon as possible. She spoke quickly, knowing that even at that very moment, several disguised Union soldiers were setting up their part of the plan, even as Layla sparked the fuse to their flare.

oxoxoxo

Yumiko

Yumiko shook herself awake from another night terror.

No matter how long it took, she was unable to purge her mind of the image that plagued her each time she closed her eyes. Yuki would raise her dagger, plunge the blade into her own belly, and, in what took an eternity to her, draw the blade across her body, each solitary second of agony visible in her eyes, even past her mask. She hadn't even been able to stay asleep long enough to see its end as she finally dropped to the ground. That did not mean, however, that the image was not seared into her mind.

The nobushi sighed to herself, wondering again silently why her fellow samurai were turning to her for guidance. She had been one of Lady Yuki's first soldiers, yes, but that hardly qualified her for any kind of leadership.

Dismayed that many samurai were even now looking to her, pleading silently for some sort of guidance, she cast her mind back and thought to herself: what would Lady Yuki do?

Her lady had been the youngest of three siblings, and the only one born a girl. She knew that her eldest brother Hikaru would inherit his family name, and her middle brother Eiichi had plans to form a house his own, and she would necessarily be left to be married off to some noble to increase her family's standing in the Dawn Empire. Her eldest brother encouraged her to simply accept fate and be married off, but Yuki was never one to simply leave her fate to another, and instead, followed the example of Eiichi. She chose her own path.

Initially she merely went to the local village and began pouring her own funds into the people's militia, however, once her own martial skill began to increase, she became more involved in the army. She personally recruited Takumi after besting him in a duel, as well as a shugoki named Gorou, a man assigned to guard her by her father. Finally, she was brought into the group, as Yuki saved the monastery she had guarded from roving vikings. After pledging to protect the temple, Yumiko would join the kensei, pledging her life to Yuki.

And now that life had ended. Yuki was gone, Takumi was gone, and if the empty space in Gorou's cage was anything to go by, the shugoki had been taken for his judgement. She held no illusions she would ever see her last friend again, and wondered to herself if it wouldn't be better to just close her eyes now and not open them again. Let herself join Lady Yuki, perhaps. Tied to her stake and not sleeping more than a few scattered minutes or hours at a time, her limbs were already beginning to feel heavy, as were her head and eyes.

She jerked herself awake once more, knowing that all sleep would bring was more of the nightmares.

Though her head was still dragged down by sheer exhaustion, Yumiko forced herself to keep her eyes open. Staring down at her own feet, she wondered aloud "Will you ever forgive me, Lady Yuki?"

The sound of multiple gasps drew her out of her thoughts, as a small comotion was raised. Curious, she forced her head to rise and take stock of what was going on.

The guards were just as confused as she was as a plume of red smoke was rising from the corner of the prison. The red smoke rose like a bloodstained cloud, high into the sky. She frowned. It looked an awful lot like a samurai distress flare.

The sound of metal on flesh drew her attention back to earth in an instant, only just managing to see a peacekeeper in Blackstone colours drop the still bleeding corpse of one of the prison guards. Before the man's comrade could raise an alarm of any kind, the black and orange clad valkyrie next to him drove her spear through his ribcage, the man coughing up blood before dropping to the ground in a pained heap.

Yumiko hadn't even the time to question what was going on before the explosions began.

oxoxoxo

Leif

Leif watched from outside the camp as the plume of blood red rose into the air.

The sounds of confusion were audible to him, even over the sounds of the army around him. To his right were Arthur, Halvdan, and the remainder of their mounted forces, while to his left were Fergus, Gunnar and their infantry. Though the torches had long since been doused, Leif had stood in the dark long enough to make out the rough shapes of the mounted Steeds and Union soldiers, their armour glinting in the moonlight, as well as the seemingly perpetual movement of Gunnar next to him, as the berserker snarled and worked himself up before the battle. The younger man's twitching did little to calm Leif's nerves as he looked down to the camp.

Leif turned to say something to Arthur, but just as the raider opened his mouth, the sound of an explosion cut him off. Looking down to the camp, Leif saw several other explosions go off, the bombs planted by their disguised troops signalling the beginning of their attack.

Looking back up to Arthur, he saw the warden had also turned to look at him, Arthur gritting his teeth and closing his helm. Leif knew the plan by heart at this point, and knew just what was about to happen. The cavalry was to surround the camp, harrying their sentries as the disguised troops continued to set off their bombs. In all the chaos, he, Fergus and Gunnar would lead the troops into the camp and slaughter any Blackstone they could find. The disguised troops he would know from the others by the Waterstop heraldry of a grey and orange swan on a black background.

Arthur raised his lance and rallied the troops. "For the Union." He declared "For Magnus and Godric! For all those souls trapped or lost to the Blackstone Legion! For all those depending on us, CHARGE!"

The combined cry of all the cavalrymen went up in a din of sound, Leif's own voice joining in as he and his infantry prepared themselves to attack.

With a collective war cry and the thunder of hooves, Arthur and his force charged, and Leif could already hear the screams as the camp guards were caught unawares and cut down where they stood. Arthur's force began to circle the camp as more and more explosions sounded from within. Leif knew it was only a matter of time before his group was to make their charge and begin cutting down the defenders.

"Well lad," Fergus said, his massive blade lodged in the earth next to him. "By the grace of God we charge, and by His grace, we will survive."

Leif let out a snort. "You sound like Arthur."

"To some, all men of faith sound alike. However, perhaps I could say something all could agree with." Fergus ripped his blade free of the ground and rested the massive claymore on his shoulder. "A saying passed down the highland tribes for generations, even before we discovered Christ's teachings." The highlander turned to face his force and gave a single nod, one mimicked by all those highlanders in attendance and even some of the Steeds.

Turning back to face the embattled camp, Fergus stepped forward and raised his blade in the air. "DUNMAGLASS!"

The line was repeated by all those who heard it, the warriors bellowing the highland battle cry before they charged down the hill. Leif himself, before he could even realize it, was part of the charge, the highland cry on his lips as he swung his great axe through the armoured skull of a Blackstone sentry and barrelled into the camp, a trail of bodies beginning to form behind him.

oxoxoxo

Layla

Pulling open the door to another cage, Layla gave yet another command. "Salvage the weapons of the dead and stand ready! If we want out, we're fighting our way out!" The prison lay empty of Blackstones, their force cut down by the Union before any could raise the alarm, and the camp's forces too distracted by Arthur and Leif's attack to investigate any commotion. Many of the prisoners had already been freed, those who had having armed themselves with weapons the Blackstone Legion no longer needed. Only a handful of prisoners remained, many of the cages having already been opened. Already a crowd of vikings, knights and even samurai stood ready to fight, armed with a selection of mismatched weapons from the Blackstone troops. Those that remained imprisoned were those few tied to stakes, those the Legion had decided to make examples of for the masses.

Layla ran to the closest stake, a samurai woman tied to it, and began to cut the ropes that bound her with her dagger. "Come on, we need you down from there."

The woman looked at her with a glassy eyed stare of confusion. "What's going on?"

"You fought for the Union?" Layla asked. The woman nodded, falling to the ground on unsteady feet as the peacekeeper finished cutting her binds. Layla caught her as she nearly fell and held her at shoulder length. "Well the Union is here to fight for you. Now come on, we've got to make ready. What's your preferred weapon?"

The woman shook her head as if just now coming to her senses. "What do you mean?"

Layla squeezed down on the woman's shoulders until she grimaced in pain. "You're responsive, good, we'll need that. Pick up a weapon from the dead, and ready yourself. We're making our escape, and you're coming with us."

The woman shook her head and blinked several times, possibly not believing this to be real. She cast her eyes about the prison, as though finally noticing the dead and dying guards, and the open cages. Finally, her eyes focused on Layla, and she nodded, pushing past the Peacekeeper and picking up a discarded spear. "Heavier than what I am used to, but it will do, for now." She said quietly.

Layla nodded and moved on, cutting the next man free of his binds, this one obviously a knight, his head shaved and the scarring across his stubbled face marked him as likely being a conqueror at some point. "Who the hell are you?" He demanded as she began to cut his ropes.

"Have some respect." Layla hissed as she cut through his bindings. "I could leave you here if you want." That seemed to shut the man up as he bit his tongue. "Based on your looks, and the fact that I don't recognize you, I'd guess you joined recently, or perhaps you were taken from the dungeon. Give me a reason, and I'll put any number of sharp objects through your ribcage. Understood?"

The man gulped, likely knowing that in his current condition he wouldn't make it far before Layla made good on her promise.

"Good, now pick up your steel and get ready. Our saviours should be here any minute now."

The man nodded hastily and ran to the shrinking pile of weapons, though Layla was already onto the next stake before he even picked his armaments. As she cut the ropes, she could hear Hilde approaching behind her. "How are the prisoners you freed looking?" The valkyrie asked.

"They're wounded, but they're desperate enough to fight for their freedom." Layla said as the cut ropes fell to the ground around the viking she had freed, the man mumbling a quick word of thanks before running to the pile of weapons.

"The starved wolf is most likely to bite." Hilde remarked. "But I have to wonder if they're too starved even for that."

Layla stole a glance behind Hilde. "We're about to find out." Layla said.

Hilde turned, eyes widening as a patrol of Blackstone guards entered the camp prison, weapons aloft.

Thinking quickly, Layla lobbed a Fiat Lux into the center of the crowd. In a panic, the guards scattered, though many were still unfortunate enough to be caught in the blast. Moving just as fast, the peacekeeper hurled her dagger, the blade lodging itself in one guard's ribcage. Layla charged as he stumbled back, leaping legs first into his chest, pulling her dagger out with an arc of lifeblood and running her sword into his comrade's back.

Another guard recovered and raised his sword to cut her down, only to receive a spear to the ribcage for his trouble. Hilde kicked the unfortunate knight off her spear and bashed another in the helmeted head with her shield, dazing him for long enough for Layla to run him through the neck with her sword. Tilting her wrist, she allowed the corpse to slide off her blade and looked about the prison. A small number of the former prisoners lay dead, but they were vastly outnumbered by the amount of dead Blackstones.

In particular, her eyes were drawn to the samurai woman she had released. The formerly tied woman, though clearly used to using a lighter weapon, was easily holding back her sword wielding opponent through a series of quick, precise strikes that he was forced to avoid, lest he be impaled through the neck. Anytime he got close, the woman would seemingly glide back with a dancer's grace, before returning with a vicious swing of her weapon. Seemingly running out of patience, the knight rushed the samurai woman, only to receive a stab to the knee for his trouble, followed by stabs to both shoulders, two stabs to the stomach, and the finishing blow of a spear through the neck.

"So that's why they tied her up separate." Layla mused.

"Wonder later, Layla," Hilde said, snapping her out of her musings. "Another force is massing at the entrance."

Layla spun around, the rest of the prisoners following her gaze to the mass of orange and black garbed Blackstone soldiers standing at the entrance, a line of soldiers already forming a makeshift shield wall, advancing while hitting the flats of their blades against their shields. Though the force was small in number, the handful of knights, including two conquerors and a lawbringer, told Layla this would be a difficult escape to make.

Before she could bark a command, like a twisted mirror of her earlier attack, the lawbringer hurled a Fiat Lux into the prison. "SCATTER!" She screamed.

The prisoners didn't need to be told twice, many having already broken into a run before Layla had even spoken. She herself was already in motion before the second syllable, but even as she broke into a roll, the explosive went off and the entire world began to spin as she was thrown to the ground by the detonation.

Ears ringing and the world whirling, Layla forced herself up, only to be met with a warden standing over her, blade raised. Her heart raced as she stumbled back, dropping her sword in her haste. Cursing herself, she closed her eyes and looked away as her death approached.

And then her attacker fell upon her, dead and bleeding as the Union cavalry charged.

oxoxoxo

Arthur

The Blackstone forces were thrown into chaos as Arthur and his knights arrived, the cavalry shattering their lines and sending men fleeing in terror. Pulling his lance back from the man who would have killed Layla, Arthur turned his focus to the one man barking orders at the Blackstones, the last thing keeping their force from breaking: the lawbringer. Spurring his horse to charge, he broke into a gallop and levelled his lance at his foe. The lawbringer, to his credit, stood his ground, only moving just enough to avoid Arthur's stab by the skin of his teeth, the point of the warden's lance skittering across the man's plate armour in a spray of sparks.

Turning his horse around, Arthur saw the armoured knight regaining his footing and standing tall. Seeing this as a challenge, Arthur charged once more, only for the armoured knight to reverse his grip on his weapon, his halberd's fluke facing him. Eyes widening as the lawbringer drew back his weapon, Arthur pulled back his lance and heaved on the reins. Unable to stop his horse in time, he desperately held his lance across his chest, sucking in a breath as the halberd's spike hooked around his weapon's shaft. Unable to release in time, Arthur was dragged from the saddle and to the ground, the world spinning as he hit the ground in a roll, desperately trying to avoid the lawbringer.

Finally coming to a stop, the first thing Arthur noticed was his helm had been knocked askew. Tearing the blinding prison from his head, Arthur looked up to see the lawbringer standing above him, halberd stabbing down. The warden rolled to the side, the weapon impaling the earth where his ribcage had been only seconds before. Hauling himself to his feet, Arthur hastily drew the sword at his belt and stood in the ochs guard, facing down his foe.

The lawbringer, however, paused in his assault after seeing the warden. "I should have known you would survive the battle, Arthur Rowan." The man said, only just audible over the sounds of battle around them.

Arthur's eyes widened. "Richard?"

The lawbringer didn't even nod at the warden's words as the two began to circle one another. "We didn't find your corpse at Fort Sigrun, surprising, as I was sure you would have died at Godric's side."

"And I should have known you would still be licking Aryen's boots!" Arthur spat. "Where is he now, Richard? I would expect him to be leading his troops, or is he too good for the ground troops now?"

"Lord Aryen is directing the defense of the camp." Richard replied. "I've been directed to secure the prison. And it seems his suspicions were right."

Arthur snarled and struck, his slash being deflected off Richard's halberd and opening him to a stab, one he just managed to avoid. Arthur raised his blade once again, only for Richard to shove him back with the shaft of his weapon, the warden stumbling back as the lawbringer stabbed forward again, the Union's commander only just managing to stay on his feet and block the attack.

"Pathetic." Richard snarled. "Ad mortem!" He declared, swinging his halberd's axe at Arthur's neck. Grasping his blade in his offhand, Arthur parried the strike and shoved the pommel of his sword forward, slamming it into Richard's helmeted head, the blackstone executioner stumbling back as Arthur raised his blade for another strike, bringing the heavy blade of his longsword down on Richard's armoured shoulder and making the lawbringer stagger back in pain.

Bringing up his blade once more, Arthur brought it down in a savage arc, only for the shaft of Richard's halberd to catch it and force him back. Arthur regained his footing, only to be met with a mighty shove from the lawbringer, immediately followed by a mighty swing which the warden only just managed to block, the force of the hit nearly knocking the blade from Arthur's hands, and even then it left his arms shaking from the impact.

Looking up, Arthur watched as Richard raised his halberd to finish the job. Steeling himself, Arthur gripped his blade until his knuckles turned white, and as Richard swung his blade in a downward arc, the warden gave a savage counter, deflecting the blow and dealing a strike from his sword to Richard's helm. A cockier knight might have pressed the attack, but Arthur knew Richard could shrug off even a blow to the helm and waited as the lawbringer shook his head to clear it, advancing slowly as the executioner backed away.

Arthur soon realized his mistake. Richard lashed out, recovering quicker than Arthur thought possible, the heavy swing from his axe coming in to Arthur's right, forcing the knight to move his guard, his entire frame being rocked by the force from the hit. Wanting to strike back, Arthur swung his weapon for his opponent's neck, but Richard was ready. The lawbringer caught the attack and slammed the butt of his weapon into Arthur's skull. The warden stumbled from the hit, his vision swimming, as the lawbringer hooked his weapon around his heel and heaved him off his feet once more. Arthur fell to the ground, the fierce battle around him barely heard over the ringing in his ears.

Arthur looked up as Richard raised his halberd one last time. Head swimming and ears ringing, he knew he would not be able to avoid the stab to come this time. The faceless visage of the lawbringer's helm would be his final sight. Gritting his teeth, he struggled to move back, but the reaper seemed to follow his every step.

Richard reared back for the final blow, Arthur gritting his teeth in anticipation as he screwed his eyes shut. A braver man would want to look death in the eye, but at that moment, Arthur felt more mortal than ever before. Tensed in preparation for the end, Arthur said a silent prayer for his soul and for the safety of his comrades.

The blow never came.

The first thing Arthur heard was the sound of metal on metal. Opening his eyes, he saw a spear being retracted above his prone form. Richard stopped to parry the attack, but Arthur, seeing his escape from death's grip, struck out, his armoured boot striking Richard in the shin and sending the older knight to a knee.

Grasping his blade, Arthur used it to push himself to his feet once more and catch a glimpse of his saviour. She was a woman, clad in the tatters of what was once leather and lacquered armour. Her black hair was a mess upon her head, her robes in shreds from battle and days of imprisonment, and a look of terrified resolve and ferocity in her almond shaped eyes. This woman was a samurai.

Before Arthur could question her further, Richard was already back on his feet, weapon gripped in his armoured hands and faceless helm seeming to glare fiercely at the two fighters before him. "A prisoner joins with a traitor. Seems you may be a wolf after all."

"Sonata ni shi wo." The woman hissed. She struck first, lashing out with her spear, the blade just being deflected off the lawbringer's weapon in time to miss his neck.

Not giving him time to think, Arthur attacked, his sword swinging in a downward arc at Richard, the man just moving out of the way in time.

Shoving the samurai back with his halberd's shaft, Richard stabbed at Arthur, the warden blocking and deflecting the blow with his blade, giving the samurai time to strike. She swung her weapon, the blade of the spear colliding with the lawbringer's helm from behind, sending the man stumbling forward in a daze.

Seizing upon his chance, Arthur struck. Breathing deeply, he grasped his sword by the blade and raised it high above his head. With a war cry fueled by rage, loss and desperation, the warden swung in a murder stroke, the crossguard of his sword slamming through Richard's helm, the lawbringer screaming in pain as he hit the ground, blood pouring from the hole in his helmet.

Arthur pulled back his sword with a jerk and held it at his hip, watching as Richard grew still. Looking up from his kill, he inspected the prison. Layla and Hilde's forces were cleaning up the remainder of the immediate Blackstone forces, and the remaining prisoners had been freed. "Layla!" Arthur called. "Take the prisoners to the Steeds' forward camp. There should still be enough horses to get them out of here."

Layla nodded and gestured to the samurai woman who had fought Richard with him. "The samurai here are on our side as well. They'll follow her."

Arthur mimicked her nod and turned to the samurai, a nobushi if he wasn't mistaken. He reached up and removed his helm, shaking loose his hair and finally meeting her eyes. "Do you speak Latin?" He inquired.

She nodded, almond eyes wild and hair sticking out at angles. "Hai." She replied in her own tongue before shaking her head "I mean yes, Lady Yuki taught me when I first joined her."

The warden nodded. "My name is Arthur. Knight commander of the Warborn Union. If you and your men still want to fight alongside the Union, we would be honoured to have you."

"My name is Yumiko," The woman replied with a small bow. "And if these samurai will follow me, I will lend them to your Union."

"Good," Arthur said, gesturing to another knight to bring him his horse. "Stay with Layla and Hilde, get your men to safety and get away from the Blackstones. I'm going to find Leif and get him and the others out of here." He declared as he mounted his horse. Hilde passed him a spare lance from the mass of Blackstone corpses.

Yumiko nodded the affirmative and joined the two other women. As Arthur spurred his horse into a gallop, he could just hear the sounds of calls in Latin, Japanese and Norse for the men to group up. Before long, the battle would be over, their distraction only needed last a few minutes longer.

He now only had to hope he could pull Leif back with him.

oxoxoxo

Leif

Leif roared in rage and glee as his axe came down on the ribcage of a conqueror, loving the feeling of the bones shattering like twigs beneath his axe. Looking up from his fresh kill, he was just in time to watch Fergus, in one stroke, decapitate the enemy commander. That brought a smile to his face, even if the now dead commander wasn't Aryen Diamond.

The sound of a war cry jerked Leif back to reality as a charging raider, infuriatingly clad in Blackstone colours, rushed him, axe swinging in a wide arc. Leif snarled and parried the strike, returning with a swing of his own, burying the blade of his axe in the man's abdomen. He hauled the man in, the axe in his gut pulling the man face to face with Leif. The raider whimpered and coughed up blood. Leif snarled and brutally smashed his fist into the man's face, the feeling of cracking bones nearly making the viking chortle like a young lass.

"Where is Diamond?!" He demanded, his voice only just heard over the din of battle, though if any man heard him, they showed no sign of it, as battle continued to rage around them. "Where is he?!" Leif roared, slamming his axe upward into a warden's chin, splitting his head and snapping his spine. "Does your commander not stand by his men anymore? Or is he just a coward?"

"Leif!" A voice rang out. "Enough!"

Snarling, Leif turned to the voice's source. Arthur had ridden to him, the knight sitting bloodied atop his horse, lance clutched in his hand and sword at his waist. "We have the enemy on the run, Arthur, how can we just flee now?"

"Blackstones still outnumber us five to one, and they're beginning to regroup." Arthur explained. "Our riders are starting to take casualties, and if they fall, Blackstone will run us down like cattle. We need to pull back now!"

"You would have us run while Aryen Diamond still lives?" Leif spat, blood flying out of his mouth with the spittle.

"If we don't leave now, we lose the very prisoners we fought for." Arthur replied. "Pull yourself out of your own rage for just a few moments and see that!"

"He's right, lad." Fergus said. "We're winning now, but the enemy will regroup soon and they'll be on us." The highlander adjusted his blade on his shoulder. "We don't have the manpower to wage a battle, but with the prisoners freed and our blow dealt, we've hurt Aryen and his Legion badly."

Leif snarled and gripped his axe tightly. As much as he was loathe to admit it, they were right. Aryen or not, they had their victory. Aryen's corpse would have to wait. "We'll sound… the retreat." Leif forced out. "But I swear, the next time I see Aryen, he dies.

"Sound the retreat!" Arthur called, either missing the raider's oath or choosing to ignore it.

A nearby valkyrie nodded and raised her horn to her lips.

Before a sound could even be produced, the explosion went off. Leif wasn't even in danger of the blast, the the surge of flame and heat, the light and the sound. He knew it anywhere. A viking fire flask.

"Sound it now!" Arthur ordered, snapping the vikings out of their daze. "Before we lose more men!"

The valkyrie shook her head and nodded, raising the horn and producing a clear tone that resonated across the camp.

Leif grunted in anger and annoyance as he watched Arthur ride off, gritting his teeth as the Warden faded into the distance. His distraction was broken by the sound of a battle cry and rattling chains. The viking turned just in time to catch the chain of a conqueror's flail around the haft of his axe. Enraged, Leif heaved on the weapon, the flail flying from the hands of the knight and jerking him forward. Leif raised his axe, the knight cowering behind his shield as Leif rained blow after blow from his axe against it, the wood splintering from each hit before the axe met flesh in the man's arm. The knight's scream was muffled by his helm as he collapsed to his knees in pain. Snarling, Leif swung his axe underhand, catching the man in the chin with it's blade, splitting his jaw and snapping his neck as the corpse flew back from the force of the blow.

Another scream drew Leif's attention, but turning to face it, he quickly learned it was a scream of pain, as Fergus ripped his claymore from the chest of the man he had shoved it through. "Come on lad!" Fergus called when he noticed he had caught Leif's attention. "We stay too long and we'll be left behind!"

Grudgingly, Leif accepted this. A viking never knew when the day of his death would come, when he would rise to Valhalla to fight alongside the gods and his ancestors. It was why he wore minimal armour and fought so viciously. He knew, however, that while his death would always hound him, there was still more he needed to do with his life. The remaining Union warriors would need leadership, Arthur needed his aid in command, and Aryen Diamond still needed to die. For those reasons, Leif turned from the field of battle and broke into a run alongside Fergus. He knew as well as Fergus did that the remainder of the Union would be waiting for them for only so long before assuming them dead.

He could not die yet. Not while others lived.

oxoxoxo

Layla

The time since the retreat was sounded felt like hours to her.

The explosions at the Blackstone camp had ceased, and while the Blackstones were still scrambling to contain the damage, that would only occupy them for so long.

In desperation, Layla cast her eyes about the forward camp once more. The soldiers had long since packed away everything they had brought with them and were more than ready to leave. Of the prisoners, as many as possible had been given mounts, though priority had been given to those injured either in the battle at Fort Sigrun or during the escape. Many had been given mounts, and even some of the Union's remaining cavalry had offered to share their horses or dismount for the injured.

For her own part, she and Hilde still had their own horses, though Arthur had offered to share his with the samurai woman Yumiko who now sat behind him, having declined the horse initially offered to her and given it to one of her more injured soldiers. She was still barking out orders in Japanese for her troops to get themselves in order. Two masses of Union troops had already been sent ahead under the eye of Halvdan, who had escorted many of the wounded on horseback, and Gunnar who had taken much of their infantry force.

More and more of their soldiers were arriving by the second, including one that caused Yumiko to smile for the first time in all the time Layla had known her. He was a massive mountain of a man, likely more fat than muscle, but who still moved with a certain grace, even while dragging a massive improvised club. By the looks of him, the man was more than able to keep marching. A good plan because a horse might not appreciate a rider of his size.

The thought of the massive shugoki attempting to ride a horse brought a smile to her masked face for a short time, though it was quickly erased as she turned back to the camp. This time, however, her act was rewarded.

Running from the camp as though the hounds of hell were on their tail were Leif and Fergus, as well as the remaining Highlanders.

"Union!" Arthur called out. "Move out! All of you, let's move!" the warden spurred his horse, the destrier rearing and letting out a cry as the Union's remaining cavalry rallied around him.

The second Leif and Fergus rejoined the party, with Leif saddling up behind Layla and Fergus mounting his own steed, the final force of the Union at last retreated, riding and running hard as the Blackstone camp smouldered behind them.

Layla let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding as the camp faded from view, the sounds of running feet, clattering hooves and Union cheers at last completely eclipsing the burning fires and panicked screams behind them. She almost wanted to let herself fall asleep in the saddle as she had many times before on long marches, though her adrenaline kept her awake, even as her mind screamed for a rest. She allowed herself merely a deep breath. Godric may not have been yet avenged, but they had saved the Union, and though the march back to Morgenstern would be long ahead of them, Layla had to believe that the worst was now behind them.