Under the shroud of the moonless night, Edward and his knights forged a strategic plan. They opted for attire of darker hues, ensuring they would remain concealed in the shadows as they executed their daring escape from the baron's castle. The weight of their mission pressed upon them, but their determination burned bright.
Pooling their knowledge, the group decided on a course of action. Edward's insights about castle architecture proved invaluable—he knew that every substantial medieval fortress possessed hidden passageways, known only to a select few. With this in mind, they set their sights on an inner route within the castle, a labyrinthine path that would allow them to evade detection.
Outside, their horses were positioned and prepared for a swift departure. Each knight ensured their mount was securely tethered, a crucial element of their getaway plan. However, one detail set Edward apart from the rest—he would navigate this escape without a horse. To bridge this gap, Nathan valiantly volunteered to provide Edward with a ride, ensuring the effectiveness of the plan.
In whispered exchanges, the final threads of their escape strategy were woven together. Determination etched onto their faces, they synchronized their movements, ready to traverse the inner passages that would lead them away from the clutches of the castle and its malevolent secrets.
Emerging stealthily from the castle's concealed passage, the group swiftly mounted their waiting steeds. With practiced ease, they settled onto their horses, a cohesive unit ready to spring into action. Edward took his place behind Nathan, clutching onto his comrade as they prepared for the imminent journey.
Their departure was a silent affair, marked by the determined beat of hooves against the ground. The night air enveloped them as they galloped forth, each heartbeat echoing the urgency of their mission. The path ahead stretched for ten kilometers, a race against time that demanded their unwavering commitment.
The pace they set was unrelenting, pushing their horses to their limits. The distance, while not insurmountable, demanded a pace that left no room for respite. With every stride, the horses surged forward, their breaths merging with the cool night breeze. Yet, the rapid pace promised a taxing toll on their equine companions, leaving them gasping for breath as they strived to keep up.
Minute by minute, they pressed on through the inky darkness, guided by their determination and the faint glimmers of stars overhead. The midnight hour loomed, their destination drawing nearer with each passing minute. The journey tested their mettle, but their resolve held steadfast—they were racing against time to unveil a sinister truth.
As the moon reached its zenith, they hoped to reach their destination, their hearts beating in sync with the rhythm of their horses' gallop. With every heartbeat, they inched closer to their goal, the unknown lurking in the shadows of their thoughts. Ahead lay the hope of unmasking the treachery that had tainted the barony, an endeavor that demanded the utmost courage and unity.
Through the veil of darkness, they spurred their horses forward, striving to reach their destination before the bandits they pursued. The land beneath them seemed to stretch out endlessly, a landscape shrouded in secrets. The bandits' impending arrival cast a shadow of uncertainty, but Edward and his knights were propelled by the fervent belief that their actions could change the course of fate.
Dividing into two groups, they followed diverging pathways that led to the potential locations of their quarry. Nathan and Edward, resolute in their mission, set their course toward the town of Attleborough. The journey ahead was brief, a mere five-minute ride, yet their horses were already showing signs of strain, their breaths ragged from the arduous journey.
As the town of Attleborough loomed ahead, its familiar silhouette concealed in the night, Edward and Nathan pushed forward.
Arriving at the outskirts of the town, Nathan and Edward secured their lone horse to a sturdy tree, making sure it was well-hidden from casual observers. Aware of the critical nature of their mission, they opted to navigate the edges of the town, seeking cover among the buildings and vegetation that could conceal their presence if the bandits should appear.
As they moved cautiously, their eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the sight of ripe and bountiful crops—a testament to the town's prosperity. However, the tranquility was abruptly shattered by a piercing scream that rents the air, soon followed by a chorus of equally harrowing cries. The night was quickly illuminated by a golden blaze emerging from the opposite edge of the town, a grim signal of the bandits' arrival.
Locked in a moment of shared understanding, Nathan and Edward exchanged a look that conveyed their unspoken agreement. Swiftly, Nathan released the horse from its tether, mounting it with urgency as he prepared to ride toward Besthorpe, where their fellow knights awaited. In a synchronized sequence of actions, Edward set his own course, his steps turning into a sprint as he headed for the nearby forest. This strategic move would place him at a vantage point—a concealed position that allowed him to both observe the unfolding situation and maintain a safe distance from the marauding bandits.
Within a matter of mere minutes, three ominous shadows materialized on the town's outskirts. Their forms drew nearer, eventually disappearing into the confines of a nearby house. It didn't take long before a series of muffled cries and anguished shouts echoed from within, an unsettling symphony of agony that pierced the night.
Edward's heart sank as he listened to the haunting sounds, an overwhelming sense of sadness washing over him. He could only imagine the horror and tragedy unfolding within those walls. The screams eventually faded, replaced by the pained wailing of a woman. The sounds grew increasingly guttural, her voice a testament to the unbearable torment she was enduring.
A grim realization settled over Edward. There was little doubt about the fate that had befallen the hidden men, and the suffering that the woman was now subjected to was equally evident. The very essence of his being boiled with rage, a fierce anger that threatened to consume him whole. Yet, he knew that surrendering to his emotions would serve no purpose. It was imperative to remain focused on the task at hand, to gather the evidence that could bring justice to these tormented souls.
Moments later, the trio of bandits emerged from the house, their actions confirming Edward's worst fears. A woman, her blonde hair disheveled, hung limply over the shoulder of one of the men, her unconscious form treated as nothing more than a lifeless sack. The sight ignited a fresh surge of fury within Edward, but he clenched his fists, determined to channel that anger toward the pursuit of justice rather than a rash act of retaliation.
Sitting there amidst the heavy atmosphere of melancholy, Edward's heart weighed heavy with the gruesome scene he had witnessed. He awaited his knights with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety, and soon enough, their galloping horses signaled their arrival. However, upon reaching the outskirts of the town, they dismounted and approached on foot, a quiet determination in their expressions.
As they bowed before their lord, a silent understanding passed between them. The plan was in motion, and they were ready to carry out their roles with precision.
Edward's hand reached for the pouch containing the potent 'Wymon' poison. With deliberate movements, he dipped each sword, his and those of his knights, into the concoction. The substance held the promise of shifting the tide in their favor, a crucial advantage that they could ill afford to overlook.
Their preparations were complete, the moments ticked by in tense silence. It wasn't long before another trio of intruders emerged, drawn to the town by their lust for valuables. Their presence was marked by stealth and purpose, but today was not destined to be their day of triumph.
As the interlopers approached the granary on the town's edge, their intent clear, they were met by a sudden and ferocious ambush. Five armored figures materialized from the shadows, their iron swords gleaming dully in the faint moonlight. The intruders reacted with a mix of panic and quick reflexes, evading the initial strikes and inflicting minor injuries in return.
However, the fatal mistake they made was underestimating the potency of the poison that now coated the knights' weapons. In a matter of mere seconds, the gravity of their situation dawned upon them. The 'Wymon' poison acted swiftly, its paralyzing effect rendering them defenseless and vulnerable. Their struggles became feeble, and within moments, the knights closed in and ended their lives with a swift and merciful strike.
Without wasting a moment, they discreetly moved the lifeless bodies into the concealing undergrowth, their actions efficient and practiced. Stripping the deceased bandits of their matching armor, bandanas, and black cloth masks, Edward and his knights aimed to create a guise that would deceive even the shrewdest of observers.
As there were only three sets of bandit attire, the remaining two knights were left without such cover. To rectify this, Nathan and Rufus ventured further into the town, returning with the additional bodies of the fallen assailants. The process was carried out with precision, and soon all five men were clad in the deceptive garb of the bandits.
Their knightly armors were methodically discarded, strategically placed near their patiently waiting horses. Each sword was reverently buried near its corresponding armor, a symbolic gesture of their loyalty to their code. Instead, they armed themselves with the bandits' weapons—three spears and two swords, clearly of inferior quality compared to their accustomed gear.
As they examined the weaponry, a subtle but significant truth emerged—these weapons were too sophisticated for mere bandits. The intricate craftsmanship and design spoke of higher aspirations, and the confirmation was chilling. Their suspicions regarding the baron's involvement were solidifying into certainty, and the weight of the situation bore down upon them.
Edward's eyes met those of his knights, a shared resolve reflected in their gazes. With the disguise complete and the bandits' weapons in their possession, they were poised to carry out the next crucial phase of their plan. The confrontation with the truth was drawing near, and they were prepared to unveil the shadows that concealed the baron's treacherous scheme.
With their disguises firmly in place, Edward and his knights swiftly loaded up a sack with grain, mimicking the bandits' routine. Their faces hidden behind the cloth masks, they moved quickly through the town, looking just like any other marauder.
As they made their way, the scenes of destruction around them were heartbreaking. Houses burned, bodies lay lifeless, and innocent women and children were left in chains. Despite their anger, the group pressed on, determined to stick to their plan.
Reaching the bandits' gathering spot, the magnitude of the situation became clear. There were around fifty to sixty bandits present, and more were joining them. The captives numbered over a hundred—women and children who had suffered greatly at the hands of these criminals.
As they reached their destination, a large group of bandits had congregated under a towering tree, and a man stood prominently nearby.
"They must be close to a hundred," Nathan whispered.
"More like ninety," John added.
"It's a sizable gathering for bandits, almost resembling a small lord's army," Hughes remarked.
"Absolutely," Rufus concurred, nodding in agreement.
The man, appearing to be in his late forties with brown hair and an average build, not exceeding 5 feet 7 inches in height, proclaimed, "Comrades, on this day, we have reaped a bountiful harvest, the riches of this town have swelled our coffers, elevating us beyond last night's fortune. But remember, we must continue our march as we lay claim to the lands of that cunning Earl Thomas, acting under the name of our esteemed Baron."
A resounding chorus arose from the bandits, chanting, "All Hail The Baron!"
"All Hail The Baron!"
And the fervent voice continued…