Death's End

Chapter 4 - Stalker

The morning sun hung high in the sky as the small regiment of soldiers forged their way up Merchant's Hill. As the tracks were rocky and uneven, they had to lead their mounts by hand. Far behind in the yonder, the rest of the Noxarians, along with horse-drawn carriages and soldiers in bodyguard formations made the trip through the flat but longer route.

Good thing the winds are strong, Zenvix thought, while scrutinising the faces of his men. His soldiers needed some reprieve from the long journey.

As the Prince surveyed his small squad of soldiers, he felt a sense of kinship with them. These men have accompanied him on an expedition outside Nox and even fought shoulder to shoulder beside him during his charge to save their homeland. Moreover, only men, who were orphaned from young, were chosen to be part of his personal troops. With no familial attachment, they had only the country, and each other, for whom they would fight tooth and nail.

If only more of them survived, Zenvix mused sadly.

Patting a young soldier by his shoulder, Zenvix offered his water skin.

"Here, take it Alfonso. You look like you are gonna pass out before your horse does," Zenvix said, keeping his tone light.

The budding soldier, who was still inexperienced in traversing long journeys, stammered in surprise. "B-but Your Highness, I can't possibly take your -"

"Take it."

Zenvix pressed the water skin into his hand, and looked ahead of him. They were making good time.

"Your Highness, Ceil is just after Merchant's Hill. We should reach it latest by evenfall," Sir Dylas reported.

"Excellent. Ensure that our men have comfortable lodgings and sustenance once we reach Ceil. I will head to the palace to meet Minister Zila."

Whether the politically complex and tough-as-nail Zila would meet him, or grant his people refuge, was a problem to think about when they were closer to the city.

"Of course, Your Highness," Sir Dylas's smile reminded Zenvix of the countless tutoring sessions that he underwent with the veteran knight when he was younger.

The knight had always been like a fatherly figure to him, teaching him the strategies of war to archery and swordsmanship. But what stuck with him the most were the lessons on leadership; the memories remain fresh in his mind.

"Zen, tell me what you think about leadership."

The young adolescent pondered for a short moment, before answering excitedly, "I have seen father in mock battle practices - he always goes "Men! Nock your arrows, on my command...FIRE!"", the boy shouted the last word with gusto, as if a regiment of archers was at his disposal.

The knight laughed. "Well, Zen, that is one part of leadership, but not the crux of it, I'm afraid."

The adolescent Prince looked confused.