The days following Captain Lucan's departure were tense, with a sense of foreboding hanging over the village like a dark cloud. The villagers threw themselves into their work, fortifying the barricades, training with Jack's weapons, and preparing for what they knew was coming. But no amount of preparation could fully ease the fear gnawing at their hearts.
Elara had tried to remain strong, to show her people that they could face whatever was coming. But each night, as she lay awake in her small house, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were standing on the edge of a precipice, one wrong move away from disaster.
On the third day after Lucan's departure, a new figure arrived on the horizon. A lone rider, moving at a steady pace toward the village. As the rider drew closer, the sun glinted off the polished metal of his armor, and the villagers began to gather, murmuring anxiously among themselves.
Elara stepped out of her house, her heart sinking as she recognized the crest on the rider's chestplate. It was the emblem of Lord Aric's house, a stylized hawk with wings outstretched—a symbol of power and authority that had ruled over their lands for generations.
Jack appeared beside her, his expression grim. "That's not Lucan."
"No," Elara replied, her voice tight. "It's the tax collector."
The rider reached the outskirts of the village and dismounted, dusting off his tunic as he looked around with a disdainful sneer. Behind him, a small group of soldiers followed on foot, their armor clinking as they marched in formation.
The tax collector strode into the village square as if he owned the place, his eyes narrowing as he took in the makeshift barricades and the villagers' wary expressions. He was a portly man, his jowls quivering slightly with each step, and his eyes gleamed with a mixture of greed and malice.
Elara squared her shoulders and stepped forward to meet him, Jack following close behind. The villagers parted to let her through, their faces filled with a mixture of hope and fear.
"Good day to you," the tax collector said, his voice oily and insincere. "I am Torvin, sent by Lord Aric to collect the taxes owed by this village. I trust you are ready to comply."
Elara met his gaze evenly, refusing to be intimidated. "We've already told Captain Lucan that we cannot meet the increased demands. Our mines are nearly exhausted, and we've given everything we have."
Torvin's smile tightened, his eyes narrowing. "I see. And you expect Lord Aric to simply accept this... insufficiency?"
"We expect fairness," Elara replied, her voice steady but firm. "We've always paid our taxes, but these new demands are beyond our means. If we try to extract more, we'll risk the collapse of our mines and the ruin of our village."
Torvin's gaze swept over the villagers, his sneer deepening as he saw the fear in their eyes. "Fairness," he scoffed. "Lord Aric cares little for your excuses, woman. The kingdom is at war, and every village must do its part. If you cannot meet the demands, then perhaps you need to reconsider your leadership."
At this, Jack stepped forward, his voice cold. "We're doing everything we can to support the war effort. But you can't get blood from a stone. Pushing us harder will only drive us into the ground."
Torvin's gaze flicked to Jack, his lip curling in disdain. "And who are you to speak on behalf of these people? An outsider, meddling in affairs that do not concern you."
Jack held Torvin's gaze, unflinching. "I'm someone who cares about this village. Someone who sees the value in standing together rather than being crushed underfoot by those who care more about their coffers than their people."
Torvin's eyes flashed with anger, but he forced a smile, his voice dripping with false civility. "How touching. But sentimentality will not fill the kingdom's coffers. You have until the end of the month to deliver the required amount. If you fail, Lord Aric will ensure that this village is made an example of. And trust me, it will not be a pleasant experience."
A murmur of fear spread through the crowd at his words, and Elara felt a surge of anger at the way Torvin played on their fears. She stepped forward, her voice rising above the whispers. "We will not be bullied into giving what we do not have. We've already given more than our share, and we will not sacrifice our lives and livelihoods for demands that are impossible to meet."
Torvin's smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating look. "You speak boldly for someone in such a precarious position. But bold words will not protect you when Lord Aric's wrath descends upon this village. I suggest you reconsider your defiance, or the consequences will be dire."
Elara didn't flinch, her eyes locked on his. "We stand by our decision. If Lord Aric wishes to punish us for surviving, then so be it. But we will not break under the weight of impossible demands."
Torvin's eyes blazed with fury, but he quickly masked it with a veneer of calm. He turned to his soldiers and barked an order. "Search the village. Collect whatever is of value. If they will not pay what is owed, we will take what we can."
The soldiers moved to obey, their boots thudding on the ground as they spread out through the village. The villagers looked on in horror as the soldiers began to ransack their homes, taking anything that looked valuable—tools, livestock, even food stores.
"Stop this!" Elara shouted, her voice filled with outrage. "You have no right!"
Torvin turned back to her, a malicious smile on his lips. "We have every right, woman. These are Lord Aric's lands, and everything on them belongs to him. Consider this a down payment on what you owe."
The villagers began to murmur angrily, some stepping forward as if to intervene, but Jack quickly raised a hand, signaling them to stop. "Don't," he said quietly, his voice tense. "They want an excuse to escalate this. We can't give them that."
Elara clenched her fists, feeling helpless as the soldiers continued their looting. But she knew Jack was right. A confrontation now would only lead to bloodshed, and they were not yet ready to face Lord Aric's forces head-on.
After what felt like an eternity, the soldiers finished their task, their arms laden with the villagers' hard-earned possessions. Torvin watched with satisfaction as his men loaded the spoils onto a cart, his smug smile returning.
"You have until the end of the month," he repeated, mounting his horse. "Deliver what is required, or Lord Aric will deal with you personally."
With that, he turned his horse and rode out of the village, the soldiers following in his wake. The villagers watched in stunned silence as the tax collector and his men disappeared into the distance, leaving behind a trail of destruction and despair.
Elara stood frozen in place, her heart pounding with a mixture of rage and fear. She felt Jack's presence beside her, his hand resting gently on her shoulder.
"We'll get through this," Jack said quietly, his voice filled with resolve. "But we need to be smart about it. We have to prepare."
Elara nodded, trying to steady her breathing. "They've taken everything we had left. How can we possibly meet their demands now?"
Jack's eyes narrowed in thought. "We can't. But we can make them think we're preparing to. We need to buy ourselves more time to get ready for what's coming."
Eamon stepped forward, his expression grim but determined. "We'll make do with what we have. We've been through worse. We'll rebuild, and we'll fight if we have to."
Elara looked around at the faces of her people, seeing the same determination reflected in their eyes. They were scared, yes, but they were also strong. They had faced hardship before, and they would face it again.
"We'll rebuild," Elara said, her voice firm. "We'll make sure they regret ever thinking they could break us. But we must be careful. We can't afford to make any mistakes."
Jack nodded, already considering their next moves. "We need to fortify the defenses further. Set traps, reinforce the barricades, and make sure everyone knows their roles. And we need to hide whatever resources we have left. If they come back, we can't let them take anything more."
The villagers began to disperse, their expressions a mix of determination and fear as they returned to their homes to assess the damage. They had lost much, but they were not defeated.
Elara turned to Jack, her eyes filled with gratitude and resolve. "Thank you, Jack. For everything."
Jack met her gaze, his expression softening. "I'm just doing what I can. We're in this together."
Elara nodded, her heart swelling with a renewed sense of purpose. They had faced a great setback, but they were still standing. And as long as they stood together, they would not be broken.
----------------------------------------------------
The journey back to Lord Aric's fortress was a grueling one. The tax collector, Torvin, sat in his carriage, fuming with anger. His face, usually ruddy and cheerful when collecting taxes, was now twisted into a scowl. The insolence of that village, the gall of them to resist Lord Aric's rightful demands, was infuriating.
By the time he arrived at the fortress, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of wood smoke and the distant clamor of the blacksmith's hammer. Torvin wasted no time. He strode purposefully toward the keep, his soldiers trailing behind him with the meager spoils they had taken from the village.
Inside, the keep was cool and dimly lit, the walls lined with tapestries depicting the victories of Lord Aric's ancestors. Torvin barely glanced at them as he made his way through the halls, his mind focused on the task ahead.
He reached the large wooden doors of the lord's chamber and knocked sharply. A voice from within bid him enter, and he pushed the doors open, stepping into the grand hall.
Lord Aric sat at the far end of the room, behind a massive wooden desk piled high with documents and maps. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered and imposing, with a mane of silver hair that fell to his shoulders. His eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked up from the parchment he was studying as Torvin approached.
"My lord," Torvin began, bowing low. "I have returned from the village of Ellenshire, but I bring troubling news."
Lord Aric raised an eyebrow, gesturing for Torvin to continue. "Speak."
Torvin straightened, his voice tinged with frustration. "The villagers have refused to meet your demands. They claim that the mines are exhausted and that they cannot provide the additional source crystals or supplies you requested. Their leader, a woman named Elara, was particularly defiant."
"Defiant, you say?" Lord Aric's voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it.
"Yes, my lord. She openly refused to comply with your orders and rallied the villagers to stand against your authority. The outsider—Jack, I believe his name is—supported her in this rebellion. They have fortified the village and are preparing for a confrontation."
Lord Aric's expression darkened. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled as he considered Torvin's words. "And what of the taxes? What did you bring back?"
Torvin shifted uncomfortably. "Very little, my lord. We took what we could—some tools, livestock, and a few other valuables. But it was far from sufficient."
The room fell into a tense silence as Lord Aric absorbed this information. His gaze flicked to the map on the wall, where Ellenshire was marked with a small dot. The village was insignificant in the grand scheme of his domain, but defiance, no matter how small, could not be tolerated. It set a dangerous precedent.
"They think they can defy me," Lord Aric said, his voice low and filled with menace. "They believe they can resist my will and suffer no consequences. I will show them the error of their ways."
Torvin bowed again, his voice eager. "Shall I prepare to return with more soldiers, my lord? We can crush this rebellion before it spreads."
Lord Aric shook his head, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. "No, Torvin. This requires a more significant response. We will make an example of Ellenshire. I want them to understand the price of defiance."
He stood, his full height and presence commanding the room. "Send word to Captain Lucan. I want him to gather a contingent of our best soldiers. They will march on Ellenshire at first light. And when they arrive, they will show no mercy."
Torvin's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he nodded. "It will be done, my lord. The village will pay dearly for their insolence."
Lord Aric turned his gaze back to the map, his expression cold and unforgiving. "This rebellion will be quashed, and the villagers will know their place. Let it be known across my lands that those who defy me will face the full wrath of my army."
Torvin bowed deeply once more before turning to leave the chamber. As he walked back through the halls, he couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. The villagers of Ellenshire had made a grave mistake, and they were about to learn just how costly that mistake would be.
Back in the grand hall, Lord Aric remained standing, his eyes fixed on the map. He was a man who valued order and control above all else, and this rebellion was a threat to everything he had built. He would crush it, as he had crushed every other challenge to his authority.
The soldiers would march, and by the end of the week, Ellenshire would be nothing more than a cautionary tale—a reminder of the futility of defiance.