It was the proceeding day that Lev was taken from his dungeon cell and led under the guard of Kostya to the carriage that await him outside. Trying not to focus on his inevitable fate, he instead diverted his attention to the elaborate garden that encased the chateau. It was seemingly endless, with numerous guards traversing the intertwining pebbled paths and watching over the allotments of flowers and bushes. The air felt soft and smelled sweet. As the carriage visibly drew nearer, Kostya decided to break the awkward silence.
"The men and I were taken aback by your tirade… that isn't to say we didn't like seeing the Grand Duke get what was due… as well as that bloody Count Vasiliev" he said quietly, not wanting the numerous wandering guards to listen in. Noticing his disliking of Vasiliev, Lev in return opined:
"I noticed you have a disdain for that Count… I mean, not only with that remark, but also with how you looked at him yesterday."
"He should never have been made the General of the Royal Guard… him and his fucking son, who may I add he made his personal aide and second in-charge. If that much influence weren't enough, his daughter is sleeping with the Grand Duke… he denies the rumors, but we aren't fools!" the Sergeant replied, his voice rising as he spoke. As the carriage drew closer, Lev made a final remark before prying ears would be able to hear.
"It is for injustices such as this that my people abolished the outdated and predatory nobility via such vitriolic means… those sentiments of anger you feel are both justified and righteous. In a manner akin to how my people fulfilled their sacred duty to remove such malicious people from prominence, Kolva may one day heed what history demands."
"Sacred duty… what do you mean by one day?" responded Kostya, before being interrupted by Lev; who had noticed they were now near enough for outside ears to hear.
"For the time being, farewell Sergeant" he said, before walking ahead and approaching the carriage. It bore four large wheels and was made entirely from wood with iron bars for windows. Seated at the front was a man who controlled the horse carrying the cart. He wore a torn, dirty coat with a hood that shielded the upper half of his face. The lower half, in a similarly disguised manner, was shielded with a large bushy beard.
Inside the carriage was two men, both of whom seemed in poorer condition than Lev. That is, in absence of clothes their bodies were instead adorned in what could be best described at tattered rags. Though only aged about thirty years, the long-ragged hair of both individuals had already began greying; a clear sign that they had until this point lived life in relative fear and pressure. Most observably, they smelled of blood and bore bruising and blemishes across their bodies.
As was soon learned via mutual exchange, the fellow prisoners were named Ivan and Maxim; both brothers and prominent bandit leaders, renowned locally for committing numerous acts of extortion, robbery, and murder with their band of ten brigands. Although proving to be unreliable narrators, the brothers had claimed that they were captured in a glorious final stand against a small contingent of local levies. In turn, Lev provided his own circumstances.
"You must have balls made of fucking iron… you hear that Ivan; he threatened the Grand Duke himself! In front of his face, and his Court!" proclaimed Maxim, the most vocal of the two brothers. Although apolitical and devoid of class consciousness, he was nonetheless glad to hear of someone so prominent getting humbled.
"And look at his clothing… sure looks like he's someone prominent!" Maxim followed up, apparently oblivious that Lev was seated just across from him. If anything, it could be inferred that the quiet and reserved Ivan was the brains, and Maxim the muscle. Whilst the latter began to snicker at the boldness of Lev's story, the former stared down the Senior Lieutenant with an inquisitive glare.
"Did you mean it? I mean, did you mean what you said about your people overthrowing and annihilating the nobility? Establishing a nation ruled by the common people?" Ivan inquired whilst his brother finally fell silent upon realising the gravity of the topic.
From the conversation that proceeded, it could be gathered that aside from his peasant upbringing, Ivan was intellectually cunning. Of course, he did not fully understand the system of governance laid out by Lev, but at the very least he was interested in learning. Afterall, he and his band of brigands had not exactly chosen highway robberies and pillaging as their favoured source of income; rather, his gang consisted of fellow peasants forced to such extremities due to their woeful material conditions.
On the topic of material conditions, from beyond the iron bars of his mobile prison Lev observed the farmlands. Fenced off from the nearby forests, these lands rested upon open plains and were inhabited by wooden huts littered throughout. Although these rural villages were in the distance, peasants in their ragged clothing could still be seen toiling and labouring. However, what was most sickening was the occasional landowner estate that watched domineeringly over the comparatively desolate settlements.
[Curse this world to hell….]
"Heads up, we'll be at the mines shortly… I suggest you keep your talks of treason and revolution quiet lest you want the Overseer to hear" opined the hooded stranger from the front of the carriage.
"Heard he's a cruel bastard… the mines are technically under the control of the Crown, but the Overseer holds a monopoly over the place and does whatever he wants… hell, even his men are more loyal to him than to the Grand Duke" Ivan said to Lev; making his fellow prisoner aware of what they would be up against.
[The Grand Duke really is a coward… puppet to both the Count and the Overseer…]
Digressing, it appeared as though the hooded stranger was correct, as the mines could be seen just over the hills. From what was observable, the site was encircled by a wall constructed from wooden beams standing at six feet in height: which in turn made making further observations impossible. Yet, guards standing in small wooden towers could vaguely be seen. They were not dressed as if levies, but instead wore the kettle hats, gauntlets, and padded blue tunics of Royal Guards. In their hands, the men in the towers held long bows, with arrow quivers slung over their backs. Resting back into the carriage, Lev gulped. Similarly, the two brothers looked at one another with expressions of fear and unknowingness.