Mack waited patiently for the return of his messenger, unable to contain his concern. The Wessex army outnumbered his significantly, however, his army were all well trained veteran soldiers.
As Mack was panicking, a guard called out to him, "my Prince, the messenger has been spotted. The King of Wessex and his guards are with him. It seems as though Edward agreed to your offer." Hearing this, Mack got up from his seat immediately and brushed his blonde hair out of his grey eyes. "Where are they?" Mack asked the guard, "the Western flank, my prince."
Mack mounted his horse and nudged it into a slow trot. He was not entirely sure he would win, but he'd be damned if he didn't try. Upon reaching the flank, he called out "Edward the ill-fated King, a pleasure to meet you. If only it were under better circumstances." Mack said, politely. Edward, refusing his politeness, bluntly said "do you always talk this much?" Mack, slightly annoyed at Edward's rudeness, just continued, "my apologies, now, are you ready to duel?" Edward simply nodded and drew his sword from it's sheath, the whole camp immediately becoming silent and gathering round. "Very well," was the last thing Mack said before he too, drew his sword.
The two swords clashed with a clank reverberating around the hushed camp. The surrounding Northumbrian soldiers began to cheer for their beloved Prince whilst the King's guards waited with baited breath.
Edward attempted to strike Mack with a downward slash, but the Crown Prince parried and tried to stab toward the shoulder but Edward barely blocked. This pattern continued with neither party gaining any leverage in the fight until Edward aimed for a simple stab, Mack blocked this, but instead of slashing, as expected, he kicked outward, knocking over the King. Mack quickly ran forward and placed his foot onto the King's chest, halting his movement as he aimed his sword toward Edward's sparsely defended neck. Mack thrust his sword downward mercilessly, and suddenly the people around him erupted into a loud chant, "Long Live The Prince! Long Live The Prince!"
Edward's guards all stared on in disbelief, not fully comprehending what had happened. Their mighty leader, King Edward, truly was ill-fated. Wessex had just been defeated by nothing but a child. Montgomery, who was amongst the guards, almost broke down then and there, but was assisted by Howard in staying up, Montgomery's longest friend and ally had just been killed by an arrogant 17 year old boy.
"You there, what is your name?" It took Montgomery a moment to realise that the future King of Northumbria was speaking to him, "I am Captain Montgomery, loyal advisor of King Edward." He spoke clearly, purposely missing out any form of respect such as sir or my lord. "You and your men are more than welcome to take your King and bury him, however, as per our agreement, you and all other commanders, advisors and lords in Edward's army must surrender yourselves to me." The captain simply nodded, too defeated to offer a verbal confirmation.
"Today, we celebrate! Tomorrow we march back to Bamburgh with our new esteemed guests and tell the King of our glorious success. Well done, loyal citizens of Northumbria!"
-----(The Next Day- Bamburgh)
"You, where is the King?" Mack asked a nearby servant, "H-He is in the throne room, my Prince," the servant managed to stutter out, clearly frightened by the sudden appearance of the crown prince. "Thank you," Mack said, surprising the servant with his manners.
Mack strolled toward the throne room, pride clear in his demeanour. "Open the doors," he said to the guards on duty at the doors. They promptly did as they were told. Mack walked into the room and looked around, realising the King was holding a court session.
"My King, Prince Mack has virtually no chance of beating Edward's powerful army, I beg of you, please, take the Queen and retreat to the countryside, at least until us lords are able to raise another army!" Lord Vere begged the King, clearly desperate for him to listen. "Lord Vere, are you suggesting that I not only abandon Bamburgh and it's people, but my son as well, do you truly have so little faith in him?" King Elric asked, making the Lord stutter, at a complete loss for words.
"It appears he does, father, he has already assumed I have died." Mack stated, frightening everyone in the room, including his father. "Mack, what are you doing back already? Have you won already?" Elric asked, ignoring the deathly pale colour that Lord Vere seemed to have undertaken.
"I beat the late King Edward in a duel to the death, his army has disbanded and his commanders, advisors and lords are prisoners. No lives were lost other than Edward." Mack reported, stunning everyone in the room. "That is simply incredible Mack, I shall have Lord Mcloughlin gather our full army so that we can conquer Wessex. Meanwhile, however, let us feast in honour of your tremendous victory!" Mack couldn't help but smile widely at these words of praise, finally taking notice of Lord Vere's pale complexion, however, he could not help but laugh outright. "Lord Vere, relax, it isn't like I'm going to have you executed for your doubt, it was a fair assumption, I was massively outnumbered," Mack felt the need to reassure the trembling lord. "Thank you my Prince, you are truly remorseful," Lord Vere said, visibly relaxing.
"Also, father, please allow me to lead the invasion of Wessex."