The captain of the guard paced back and forth under the eaves of the sentry box. His boots echoed on the damp cobblestones, marking the rhythm of his impatience. The relentless rain wove a veil of bright pearls falling from the leaden sky. Despite the downpour, the silhouettes of his men were becoming defined in the distance, emerging like shadows that came to life and approached with determination.
When the last of the guards had arrived, forming an expectant line under the storm, the captain stopped pacing and turned to face them. The rain drew lines on his stern face, but his voice boomed with authority over the noise of the drops hitting the ground.
"We have a mission!" he exclaimed, and his gaze hardened with the gravity of his words. "Lady Magpie has entrusted us with a vital task: to bring all the inhabitants from outside the wall to the safety of the cathedral. A fierce storm is coming, and with it, the danger of floods."
With a gesture of his gloved hand, he pointed towards the houses hidden behind the curtain of rain. "You will knock on each door and identify yourselves as members of the guard. Once inside, inform them that they must pack their belongings immediately. Tell them to take everything they can carry; the situation is critical and they may not return for days."
The captain began to walk slowly in front of the line of men, his gaze fixed on each one of them, ensuring that the urgency of the mission was etched in their minds. "Wait patiently until they are ready and then escort them to the cathedral. There, the archbishop will take over."
After a brief pause, in which only the constant drumming of the rain could be heard, he continued with precise instructions. "After securing each family, return for more. We will not rest until everyone is safe. Is that clear?"
"Yes, captain!" the guards responded, their voices unified and firm despite the bone-chilling cold.
The captain nodded in approval and then turned to his second in command, the vice-captain, who, along with ten robust men, awaited his orders. "You ten, with the vice-captain at the head, will go to the farms. Warn the farmers of the risk of flooding. Have them take their herds to the hills. Understood?"
"Yes, captain!" they confirmed, and the group of ten nodded with determination, ready for the task.
With one last glance at his men, the captain concluded, "Now that you know what is expected of you, get to work!" Immediately, the guards dispersed, exiting through the city gate that opened behind their leader, venturing into the storm with resolute steps, each carrying with them the hope of those who would soon be under their protection.
A guard, his uniform soaked and clinging to his body from the incessant rain, approached a wooden door weathered by the years with determined steps. With a methodical gesture, he knocked on the rough surface with his knuckles, the sound muffled by the constant drumming of the drops on the rooftops.
After a brief silence, a young and apprehensive voice filtered through from the other side, asking in a thin voice, "Who is it?"
"I am from the city guard, open the door," the guard demanded, his voice firm despite the roar of the storm.
The door slowly opened, creaking on its rusty hinges, revealing a young man about twenty years old, whose eyes reflected a mix of confusion and fear. The young man, with hair plastered to his forehead by the dampness, bit his lower lip, clearly nervous in the presence of the guard.
"What's happening, sir? Is there a problem?" he inquired, his voice trembling revealing his unease.
The guard, observing the modest room behind the young man, where each piece of furniture seemed to tell a story of austerity, replied urgently. "By order of Lady Magpie, you must gather all your things and follow me to the cathedral."
The young man paled, his hands trembling slightly upon hearing the order. "But why? I haven't done anything..." his voice broke, betrayed by fear.
With a sigh of impatience, the guard pointed outside, where the rain fell like a gray mantle. "Don't you see the storm? If it continues like this, floods are inevitable. We must act quickly."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll be ready in five minutes," the young man hurried to say, disappearing into the house. The sound of objects being moved hastily, drawers opening and closing, and the young man reappeared dragging a disordered bundle full of his most precious possessions: clothes, some food, worn blankets, and, with effort, his straw and hay mattress, a symbol of his humble life.
The servant, with the bundle and mattress stacked on his head, followed the guard along the cobblestone path that snaked towards the city. The stones, worn by countless previous steps, shone under the constant rain, reflecting the diffuse light of an overcast sky. The mattress, though soaked, offered scant protection against the deluge that beat down on them, but the servant held it firm, determined to shelter from the storm as best as possible.
They reached the city gate, a robust and ancient structure, witness to the passage of time and the stories of those who crossed it in search of refuge.
Once inside the walls, the bustle of the city was muted, muffled by the thunder of the rain. They headed towards the cathedral, whose tall towers stood out against the leaden sky, their bells silent in anticipation of more serene times. The stone of the façade, eroded by centuries of devotion and wear, seemed to come to life under the caress of the rain, telling stories of faith and hope.
The interior of the cathedral was a palpable contrast to the chaos outside. The light of the candles danced on the walls, casting a warm glow that welcomed the newcomers. The scent of incense mixed with that of wet wood, creating an atmosphere of sanctuary and peace.
The guard, with a nod of his head, called the attention of a cleric waiting near the entrance, his robe swaying gently with the movement of the air. "This is one of the servants," he informed, pointing to the young man who still held his mattress as a shield.
The cleric, with a smile that radiated warmth, approached the servant. "Come with me, I'll show you where you can rest," he said, his voice a balm in the midst of the storm.
The guard, his duty momentarily fulfilled, addressed the servant with a look of understanding. "Follow him, he will tell you what you have to do," he instructed. Then, without further ado, he turned and left the cathedral, his figure quickly disappearing into the curtain of rain, as he hurried to find the next person in need of help.