Adrian looked toward the stars. He had just dreamed of a different sky, and the constellations above now looked so foreign.
He sometimes wondered to himself if his current life was the dream and the world, he saw in his sleep was the reality, but he dismissed the thought as ridiculous.
He had just woken from a restless slumber. Deciding the ceiling of his tent was terrible company, he stepped outside, feeling weak. Luckily, his men were there to assist him, setting up a small raised bed.
Guards stood watch nearby, and a servant remained ready to help, having placed a plate of food on a small table by his side.
The battle from that morning seemed a lifetime ago. Yet, occasionally, when he blinked, the phantom of an enemy would flash before his eyes, only for the next blink to remind him he was safe in a camp full of soldiers.
He wondered if a time would come when battle and killing would no longer faze him, when phantom enemies would no longer haunt his mind after each ordeal.
That day was not today however.
Tonight, the gore and grim reality of the recent clash flickered through his thoughts, making sleep impossible now that the haze of exhaustion and pain had lifted. His body still ached, and he kept his movements minimal to avoid the sharp stabs of pain in his torso and hand.
He closed his eyes and opened them again, searching for a distraction. He looked away from the stars and toward the camp. Not far off, campfires crackled, men came and gone, some lingering behind tents to exchange hushed words.
Though it was well into the night, the camp was alive with activity. Some men were still working, digging trenches or hauling cut wood.
Though, most activities were guards watching over the captured islanders. They had managed to take more than thirty prisoners, putting them to work already, though few had injuries severe they likely wouldn't survive until morning.
Adrian could faintly hear the talking of those nearby, their conversation was filled with hints of stories, which gave him an idea to find a book to read.
It was then that his knight appeared.
"Milord! You're awake..."
"I just woke up." Adrian answered. Sir Cordell had undergone a change of clothes, forgoing his armor for more casual attire. "Tell me, is Dexton alright?"
"He hasn't woken yet, but the physicians say he should be up by tomorrow. His injuries were tended to as you ordered."
Adrian nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude. If not for Dexton, he might not have survived, he likely would have been forced to leap into the ocean to avoid capture.
He toyed with the idea of raising the man to knighthood. It was about time his barony had more than one knight, and Dexton had more than earned the honor in his books.
"That's good." Adrian said. "Did the lords hold their meeting?"
The knight recounted the details of the council. When he mentioned the gift of the longship, Adrian was surprised and then delighted before it doused by itself.
He realized that while the ship was now his, he would still use it to support the Prince's cause as promised. So, by the end, it was still the prince's.
However, he was far more pleased by the prospect of a month-long vacation.
He certainly wasn't keen on plunging into another battle so soon. While his injuries would normally take a month to heal, he knew his gift of mending could speed up the process to an instant if he wanted to.
Still, better to keep appearances, within a week or two, he would have full range of movement again. He could use that time to train or attend to other matters before returning here.
With that in mind, Adrian made a decision. "Is the steward awake?"
"Yes. Should I fetch him?"
"Please. I plan to leave tomorrow, and we will need to prepare."
The knight nodded and soon returned with the steward, who immediately began fussing over Adrian's bandages. The steward took the news of the gifted ship with even more delight than Adrian had shown.
As Adrian discussed the logistics of the journey with Osway, his mind drifted to the person waiting for him back at his castle. The urge to return home grew stronger then.
The night passed just like that.
---
Leaving was never quite so simple. Ordinarily, he would have been expected to personally bid his farewells to the surrounding lords, but that morning he realized there was a distinct perk to being injured, his knight and steward handled the formalities in his stead, and understandably so.
He was hauled, practically like a cripple, to his new prize, the very longship upon which he had once carved through his enemies. Its rowers had been granted by Lord Sanford to ferry him back to his own castle. They weren't traveling by land this time, Adrian's injuries wouldn't have withstood the jolting of a wagon, especially riding a horse, so they took to the waves instead.
Adrian had already promised the Prince, via his knight, that the vessel would eventually be dedicated to the his cause. Once the ship dropped them off, the ship would row back here.
The salt air, the splashing of waves and the soft sunlight, reinvigorated him despite some aching in his body.
"Have you truly not considered it?" Lord Bronsone asked, standing at the dock with a knowing smile.
"You're a fine warrior, but to fight on the front lines without an heir at home is a dangerous game, Lord Harrow."
Adrian rolled his eyes. "I have considered it truly, Lord Bronsone, but I am in no hurry. And as you can see, I'm tougher than most, I don't plan on dying anytime soon."
Lord Bronsone simply laughed. "You'll have to regale me with the story of how you carried yourself and killed every enemy soon, alright?"
"I won't forget, Lord Bronsone. And perhaps when I return, you'll have a few new tales of your own."
They bantered for a moment longer before Lord Bronsone departed. Adrian watched the lord's retreating back and shook his head good-naturedly. Among all the high-born men here, Bronsone was the only one Adrian had truly grown close to, and he appreciated the friendship.
Soon, Sir Cordell appeared. Following behind him was Dexton, who had finally woken up. The lad was still shaky and cradled his arm gingerly, but he was otherwise functional.
Adrian looked at him with a grin. "Still alive, huh?"
"The God of Light deemed it wasn't my time yet, it seems." Dexton said with a crooked smile. It appeared he had lost a tooth in the fray.
"Well, it seems they have plans for you yet." Adrian glanced at Sir Cordell, who nodded slightly. He had already instructed the knight to begin Dexton's teaching slowly as the man recovered. The knight hadn't asked why, he simply understood what Adrian had planned for the man's future.
"Milord, are you sure I can't go with you?" Dexton asked.
Adrian snorted and shook his head. "Look at you, a child could beat you in your current state." He grinned, "No. Stay here, heal, and listen to Sir Cordell. Of course, if you wish to visit your family, speak to the steward."
Beside Dexton stood a few other men who would be returning to the village, whose too injured for another battle so soon, along with his servants and supplies.
And, more somberly, two dead bodies. Two of his men hadn't survived the previous day's conflict. Their bodies were onboard, wrapped tightly to prevent the spread of disease. He could have simply burned them here but he wanted to return them to their families first.
At this rate, Adrian wondered if all his able-bodied men would be dead before the year's end, forcing him to conscript the very young or the very old. Replenishing forces was a grim task when the population of his territory was so limited.
He wanted his territory to thrive, and these constant skirmishes were draining its lifeblood. He had raised the matter with his steward, who noted there were only two ways to increase their numbers, and that was time and poaching.
Time was against him given the constant conflicts. As for poaching… with the construction of the new port city, it was the Prince who would be poaching people from Adrian, not the other way around. He could only wait to see what the future held, but as a lord, he felt naked without a plan.
'When I get back, I really must focus on the territory.' he thought.
Soon the steward arrived, performing the final checks before the longship set off. As he watched the bustling city that is being constructer disappear into the distance, Adrian wondered what state it, and him, would be in when he finally returned.
---
The silhouette of his castle, with the village huddled before it, soon entered his view, just as the last of the light began to bleed from the sky.
Traveling by water had proven significantly faster, even with their brief stop at Whitesand Town. There, they had paused to pay their respects to the local lord and told them of the conflict before continuing the final leg of the journey.
The only true complication had been the rowers, Lord Sanford's men were still green when it came to handling a vessel of this size.
The river was wide enough, stretching near thirty meters wide, which provided ample room for the longship, but the river wasn't exactly a straight path. The winding bends and some faint currents turned several stretches of the trip into a struggle of maneuvering and muscle, especially with such a ship of this size.
As they finally pulled alongside their modest dock, Adrian stood up under his own power. Now that he was no longer under the scrutinizing glares of other lords, he allowed himself to stood straighter.
His body still ached, but that was a burden he could fix if he chose. With a quiet focus, he willed the mending to begin, some of the sharper pains dulled and knit back together the moment his boots hit the timber of the dock.
And he released a breath of relief at the release of pain.
A few villagers immediately rushed toward the castle to spread the news, while a larger crowd began to gather at the waterfront. Adrian offered them a weary smile and a nod, fighting to keep his expression neutral as the two covered bodies were brought ashore.
He paused to offer a few words to the people, before turning toward the keep with his small retinue.
He passed through the walls and reached the doors of the keep, where a small welcoming party stood waiting. At the front of the group was Lady Ela Harrow.
Adrian's smile reached his eyes this time. It was good to finally be back.