Capítulo 98: End of life (2/3)
"How many days until we reach Fitsburg, Commander?" Avice asked the new leader of the troops who was riding alongside the carriage. She had opened the door and was peering out at him.
"One more day, milady. From there, we will restock our supplies before departing toward the capital."
"And then...?" she prompted.
"Then it will be a five-day trip, a week at most."
"Thank you," Avice replied, closing the door with a weary sigh. She slumped back in her seat, exhaustion etched across her face.
The relentless shaking inside the carriages had taken its toll on everyone, and some had even opted to travel on foot. The atmosphere was somber, heavy with the weight of mourning. They all knew the battle they'd left behind was a hopeless cause.
Most of the soldiers would likely be killed, and those who survived would be taken as slaves. The healthy women, men, and children would suffer the same fate, while the rest would be left to die.
As the caravan trudged along, the people walking beside the carriages noticed the body of an old woman lying on the ground. They merely glanced at it, their expressions numb, devoid of reaction.
Death had become a familiar companion on this journey, and it was common to see bodies abandoned by the roadside. Some would start crying upon realizing it was someone they knew, finally understanding they hadn't made it.
Like them, countless others had fled the cities and villages now under siege.
Inside the first carriage, Rafael sat in silence, his thoughts a tangled mess. He had spoken with his new wife, Ella, about their uncertain future. Her only response had been a sad, "I don't know…"
"Mr. Robe—uh, Mr. Rafael, how are you feeling?" Avice's voice interrupted his reverie as she looked at him with concern.
"...I feel anger," he confessed, the raw emotion evident in his tone.
"I understand. I'm angry too, about our situation, but we must remain united and strong." Avice's voice was firm, though the strain of their circumstances was clear. "So, my daughter told me you wanted to speak with me."
"Yes. I've been thinking about how we lost everything and what we could do to—"
"I know," Avice interrupted. "I've been thinking about this since before we left Calistoga. My plan is to offer the king the new weapon we created when we reach the capital. Once he sees the crossbow and understands its power, he'll pay handsomely for it."
Rafael's eyebrows shot up in surprise. It was... exactly my plan, he thought, momentarily taken aback.
"Judging by your expression, it seems we had the same idea," Avice said with a small smile. "As long as this war continues, we'll have a steady stream of money."
Rafael's surprise slowly morphed into admiration. She's sharp, he thought.
"What are the chances of someone more powerful than us taking our people, our blacksmiths, and carpenters?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.
Avice looked down, her expression somber. "We must hope that doesn't happen," she replied, her voice heavy with uncertainty. Ella and her younger sister listened quietly, their faces mirroring the unease they felt.
"Since we're refugees arriving at the capital, I think the next best thing is to demonstrate the crossbow's capabilities to the nobility and strike a deal. We offer a steady supply of crossbows in exchange for a place to live," Rafael suggested.
"But isn't that... too little? Shouldn't we ask for more?" the younger sister asked, her innocence showing through.
Avice turned to her older daughter. "What about you? What do you think?"
Ella took a moment to consider. "...I think it's acceptable. By doing that, we won't have to live on the streets," she said, her face lighting up as Avice nodded in agreement.
Rafael couldn't help but smile at Ella's optimism. "If everything goes well and the deal is made, it could be a turning point for us. We won't just have a place to live—we'll also gain influence. As the crossbow's impact on the war becomes clear, they'll start seeing us differently. That's when we can introduce paper, concrete, and other innovations."
Ella and Adelaide looked intrigued, while Avice felt a surge of admiration. Thank you, she silently prayed to any gods that might be listening. Thank you for giving our family this man.
"But those won't be given for free," Rafael continued. "When the time is right, we'll sell them, and I'm confident that soon we'll rival the wealthiest men in the kingdom."
"Incredible, Mr. Robe—Rafael," Avice corrected herself. "You've thought of everything, but…" She hesitated. "There's still a lot that can go wrong. You understand that, don't you?"
Of course, a lot can go wrong! Rafael thought, his mind racing. There's a bloody war going on, and we're losing! And who's to say someone more powerful won't just take the crossbows and our people, leaving us with nothing? The worst scenario would be the king himself doing it, because then there's no one above him to appeal to. He shuddered at the thought.
Actually, the worst is if we lose the war entirely.
"Yes, I understand," he finally replied, locking eyes with Avice. They nodded at each other, a silent acknowledgment of the risks they both knew all too well. Ella and Adelaide pouted slightly, feeling left out of the more serious aspects of the conversation.
As the day dragged on, the group's spirits lifted slightly when they finally saw the city walls of Fitsburg in the distance. After days of traveling and rationing food and water, the sight was a welcome relief. Vast fields of crops surrounded the city, with countless people tending to them. Their large group caught the attention of everyone they passed.
Avice quickly ordered some soldiers to run ahead and inform the city guards of their arrival. Rafael, like many others, had chosen to walk beside the carriages, desperate for relief from the cramped, rattling box he'd been confined to for days.
I'd love to burn those carriages down, he thought bitterly.
This city is at least double the size of Calistoga, he mused as they approached the towering walls, at least five meters high and made of sturdy stone blocks. Most of the houses were safely nestled behind the walls, though a small number of poorer dwellings lay outside, likely homes to those who had fled from other places and couldn't gain entry.
As the caravan neared the gates, they were met by the city guards. To everyone's shock, the soldiers were ordered to hand over their weapons.
"What?!"
"You can't do this!"
"We are the soldiers of Baron Frederic! We're not the enemy!" they protested, their anger rising in unison.
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