As Godhand emerged victorious, Djakara was suddenly mobbed by Salvarian soldiers begging to know more about the grey haired mercenary. They begged, pleaded with Djakara to give a name, but given the true nature of the business he was running, the young Freiherr wanted anonymity. Still, Djakara couldn’t help but want to hear the chants that were just about to break out from the surface of the buoyant soldier crowd.
“What’s your hero’s name?” another soldier insisted.
“Hardy,” Djakara replied. He wasn’t sure why he came up with that name, but it somehow seemed to fit the way that Godhand had transcended the difficulties and had fought through an amazing amount of pain. Only a truly hardy warrior would have been able to do what the mercenary had done.
Seconds later, chants of “Hardy! Hardy! Hardy!” erupted from the battlefield, only to be interrupted by the sight of the Magistrate of the Salaturn Church falling down from the spire onto a burning wagon and the last of the Sway’s heroes, John Kreskin was downed by Leon Adalbert. It was somewhat embarrassing for Djakara to realize that he had failed where even Leon had succeeded, but he hoped amidst the “Hardy” chants that his failure would be able to fade away.
The battle was over now. There were a few pockets of the most ardent church zealots still fighting, but even some of the peasants who had pledged their lives to the sway less than a few hours ago were now breaking rank. There was just something about seeing three supposed heroes all meeting grizzly deaths so quickly after one another that would cause all but the most ardent supporters to give up their allegiance. Now, that was happening, and Djakara watched as a tired, somewhat wounded Jame looked out over the battlefield from the spire, a pale Salvarian army captain standing near.
Though Djakara would have expected Jame to be the one giving the victory speech, it instead was the Captain. “The trouble on the Salaturn estate is now officially over,” the soldier declared. “Our battle has been won. If you are hurt, get medicine. We will make this church into a fortress now, to serve as a message to the rest of the world.”
“And they’ll probably want our weapons to do it,” Djakara realized. He scowled. Mariah had been useless as far as defending her caravan. He scowled to remember that he had paid her in advance, and figured that at the very least, he could recoup whatever it was that she had taken from a crate. Of the other wagons, one of them was intact, but the Freiherr could already see the Salvarian army captain eyeing it.
The most bitter realization came to Djakara as he thought it over. The Salvarian army that he had been so happy to see, was now the one that was going to undermine his profits. He was sure that Jame and Godhand would have been clever enough to abscond with the things they had wanted for their various concerns, but Djakara doubted after everything that happened, whether he would see any of the profit at all. He couldn’t claim any of the weapons, it would have been a strong sign in Alerar that something had gone awry. Without the wagons and his forces in shambles, Djakara couldn’t get very far. In fact, the young Freiherr worried about even getting back to Alerar, considering he’d have to transverse back through war torn area without nearly as much of the armaments that he’d had getting in that far.
With a sigh, the boy resigned himself to his fate. Djakara had failed this time, but he, unlike the corpses littered around him, would live to show the world.
Submit Thread for Judgment
