After the conclusion of the meeting, the guild masters and the Captain of the Guard stood up, their chairs scraping the floor with an echo that marked the beginning of action. They left the room and descended the stairs, reaching a sheltered space under a roof that protected them from the rain that was beginning to intensify.
The Captain of the Guard, with a posture that reflected his responsibility in the crisis, spoke with respect and seriousness. "As Lady Urraca has indicated," he said, "our first task is to ensure that all citizens outside the walls find shelter in the cathedral. Additionally, I will send some of our guards to act as messengers and alert the nearby herders; they must be prepared for what may come."
Addressing the mayor, he extended his hand beyond the shelter of the roof, letting the raindrops fall onto his open palm. "You will need to send messengers to the neighboring cities," he continued, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain, "so that they can at least take the necessary precautions." He withdrew his hand, shaking off the water droplets, and turned to the rest of the group.
"Those of you who have tasks assigned by Lady Urraca that can be carried out immediately, such as checking materials, proceed without delay," he instructed clearly. "And those who do not yet have a direct action to perform, I ask you to begin making torches. The reserves we have are probably not enough; we need to ensure that for every five people, at least one has a torch in hand. Therefore, I estimate that we will need between 600 and 800 torches, at a minimum."
With a firm nod to his companions, the Captain of the Guard took his leave with a look that conveyed both the urgency of the situation and confidence in his team. He stepped away from the shelter of the roof and walked with resolute steps under the now heavily falling rain, heading towards his office in the city guard's headquarters, the place from where he would coordinate operations to protect the population from the impending storm.
Upon entering the barracks, the Captain shook the water from his cloak before hanging it on a nearby rack. The tranquility inside was a stark contrast to the chaos of the storm outside. He quickly ascended the stairs and met with the Vice Captain, his reliable second in command, who had just finished his shift.
"I'm sorry, I know you've just finished, but a strong storm is approaching and with it, the danger of flooding," said the Captain, his voice carrying the urgency of the situation. "I need you to gather all available guards and take them to the city gate. There's no time to lose; I'll meet you there in ten minutes."
The Vice Captain, understanding the gravity of the matter, nodded firmly. "Understood, Captain. I'll have them ready and on the move in less than ten minutes," he affirmed, and without further ado, turned to begin the mobilization.
The Captain descended the stairs and headed towards the city entrance. Upon reaching the checkpoint, he approached the on-duty guard, a man who remained alert despite the adverse weather.
"Listen well," he told the guard seriously, "in ten minutes, the guard will go out to collect everyone who is outside the walls. Make sure the gates are ready to open as soon as we arrive. We can't afford to leave anyone out in this rain; a fever would be the least of what they could contract."
The guard nodded, aware of the importance of acting quickly and efficiently in critical moments like this. The Captain, satisfied with the response, positioned himself under the eaves of the barracks, watching the storm as he waited for his men to gather for the vital task ahead.
Meanwhile, Urraca left the town hall and headed towards her carriage, sheltered under a side roof of the building that protected it from the increasingly heavy rain. She approached with a firm step, her attire reflecting the importance of her position. The coachman, who had been waiting patiently, greeted with a bow and opened the carriage door for her to enter.
Once settled inside, the coachman took his place and guided the carriage out of the shelter, heading towards the cathedral. The city was not yet flooded, but the streets were beginning to show the sheen of puddles formed by the persistent rain. Citizens hurried to find shelter, their clothes already soaked by the relentless downpour.
The journey was short, and they soon arrived at the majestic cathedral, whose tall towers stood out against the overcast sky. The coachman stopped the carriage in front of the grand entrance and quickly got down to open the door for Urraca, who descended with dignity, her gaze fixed on the task ahead.
The cathedral door was closed, as expected at that hour and under those circumstances. Urraca approached and knocked decisively, the sound of her knocks resonating through the stone and glass. After moments that seemed eternal, the door opened and a sacristan appeared, surprised at first, but quickly composed his expression upon recognizing the visitor.
"Lady Urraca, how may I serve you?" asked the sacristan, bowing.
"I need to speak immediately with the archbishop," Urraca replied urgently. "It's a matter of safety for the citizens in the face of the approaching storm."
"Of course, please follow me. The archbishop is in his chambers," said the sacristan, inviting her in.
Before following him, Urraca turned to the coachman, who was still by the carriage. "Please make sure the carriage is well sheltered from the rain," she requested.
The sacristan nodded and turned towards the interior of the cathedral. "Esteban! Come here," he called to a young altar boy passing through the corridor. "Take this carriage to the stables and make sure it's under cover."
Esteban nodded diligently and hurried to carry out the task, while the coachman followed to assist. Urraca, satisfied that her carriage would be protected, accompanied the sacristan through the cathedral's corridors, whose echoes filled the air with a sense of solemnity. They soon stood before the door to the archbishop's room, where Urraca prepared to advocate for the safety of her people.