He heard a knock on his door in the early morning. Slowly, and grumbling, he rose from bed.

Whoever that is will not walk away unscathed, he thought maliciously. He opened the door and found himself face-to-face with a messenger. He glowered at the fool.

"The prince wishes to see you," the messenger announced.

Salvador contemplated knocking the messenger flat on the ground just for his amusement before he decided otherwise. In the end, he followed him all the way to rooms of Prince Benedict.

The prince greeted him warmly. "Thank you for coming, Salvador." He dismissed the messenger.

"What makes you call for me at this unangelic hour?"

"Listen. I've been at Carcino for a week now. I've tried six times to convince Lord Estevan to come to terms with Lord Herreran. Today shall be the seventh and the last.

"After a while, I realized there would be no way to get Lord Estevan to treat with Herreran. So I sent a message by dove to Lord Herreran two days ago stating that the prince demanded he arrive to Carcino to treat with Lord Estevan."

"I don't see why this couldn't have waited until after I had broken my fast," Salvador complained.

"It couldn't have waited because I got a reply from Lord Herreran," Benedict informed.

"What did it say?"

"That he was indeed coming to Carcino. Though whether it was to treat or not would be up to Lord Álavar."

"He's coming with an army."

Benedict nodded grimly. "May He Up Above help us. . . I don't know what to do."

"You brought me into this," Salvador seethed. "And I'll have to get us out. I'll tell you what we'll do. We declare Lord Estevan an enemy to the throne, for he has committed treason, and take Carcino by force. Our forces will overwhelm his in a matter of hours. Then, we wait for Lord Herreran to arrive, declare him a traitor and crush him."

Benedict stared at Salvador breathless. "You're suggesting the most unchivalrous thing anyone could think off."

That pissed Salvador unchivalrous. "What is chivalry? There was no chivalry involved in the Rape of Sancta Corentina. Fifteen thousand men, including over three hundred knights, fell upon tens of thousands of innocent people, men and women and children of high and low birth were slaughtered alike. All male members of House Corentina were slaughtered, even two infants. The females were forcefully married away to members of the houses that partook in Sancta Corentina's destruction."

"These may be grim times. . ." Benedict coneeded.

Salvador seized upon his words. "And in grim times one must do grim things. Lord Herreran will be about a two days' ride from Carcino. Gather your host on the morrow and I shall gather mine." If they will obey me, but he did not speak that thought.

Salvador saw Benedict begin to crumble. "But. . ."

"From one man who lives in the shadows to another," Salvador said.

At that, he saw Benedict's eyes brighten and his mouth set into a hard line. "No."

Salvador stared at him.

"You're right, I live in the shadow of another, my brother. My brother cares naught for the kingdom, only for wine, girls, his lance and his sword." He met Salvador in the eye. "I look up to you. You do amazing feats even though no one knows it. But you live in the shadow of someone so gallant and chivalrous he is the face of chivalry in Sersalvon. To get out of his shadow you have to be his opposite. Swaggering, witty, and ruthless. But I have to escape another shadow, and to do that I must be the opposite of my brother. I must be an example to the kingdom."

Salvador was silent for a long time. Then he slowly nodded his head. "Admire me, but follow Gerard's example."

"Y-yes." Benedict stammered perhaps a little afraid. Good.

Salvador grinned. "Alright then."

"Y-you're not. . . angry?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I was never a good role model anyway. But you have to admire me more than you do him. I'd never hear the end of it from Gerard."

Benedict smiled. "Thank you. Today I will try one last time. If Lord Estevan refuses, I will leave these walls and assemble my host. Then, we will assault the walls of Carcino. After victory we shall wait for Lord Herreran to arrive."

Salvador was about to agree before an idea popped into his head. "Or. . . we could kill two birds with one stone."

Benedict leaned forward. "I'm listening. . ."

***

When Lord Estevan called his small court, Benedict immediately moved to stand before him.

"Your Highness," Estevan said by way of greeting.

"Lord Estevan."

"Is there something you wish to discuss, Your Highness?"

"You know quite well what I came for."

Lord Estevan sighed. "We have been through this six times, Your Majesty. There is no changing my mind or that of my family."

"My lord, if you would simply give me the chance to spe―"

"No," Lord Estevan cut him off.

Salvador tsked, mentally.

Benedict's face flushed. "Have you forgotten you are speaking to your prince?"

"No, Your Highness," Estevan replied coldly.

"I think otherwise," Benedict seethed. "But it makes no matter. Lord Herreran makes his way to Carcino with the full might of his host behind him."

Estevan sat up straighter in his seat. "How do you know this?" he inquired suspiciously.

"I sent a dove to Lord Herreran asking for him to treat―"

"And instead he brought an army!" Estevan snapped.

"Let the prince speak!" Salvador thundered.

Benedict nodded in Salvador's direction by way of thanks. "You will treat with him. If you do not then you will be declared an enemy of the crown and subject to the appropriate punishment. The same goes for Lord Herreran."

Lord Estevan's eyes bulged. "And what right do you have to give such punishment? You are a second son of the king. You are little more than a boy! You have no authority!"

"Perhaps my soldiers will convince you."

"And mine," Salvador added casually.

Lord Estevan stared at Salvador in shock. One of his sisters spoke up:

"You act under the authority of Duchess Lilliana Florjes! She sent you to aid us!" Her voice was high and squeaky, despite the fact she was over forty.

Salvador shrugged. "I'm afraid royal authority outweighs that of Duchess Lilliana Florjes."

The hall fell into a tense silence. Salvador could feel his words hanging in the air.

Lord Estevan broke the silence. "I shall. . . treat with Lord Herreran. How far away is he?" he grated.

"Two days from Carcino," Benedict answered.

Lord Estevan stood from his chair and left the hall without saying another word. Benedict and Salvador followed his example.

"That went surprisingly well," Salvador said once they were out of the hall.

"For us," Benedict said. "But you still have to confirm the allegiance of your captains."

"I'm sure they'll follow me," Salvador said easily.

"Let's see if you can make good on your word," Benedict challenged.

***

The captains' loyalties were confirmed easily. The Duchess of Veroña had instructed them to follow Salvador's command and they would obey.

Two days later, soldiers on the ramparts spotted a host marching toward Carcino. Their sigils waved a brown monkey rampant on an aqua field. Along with the brown monkey flew the three condors of Canova, black on blue with a grey fess. The Herreran soldiers were mere peasant levies with hoes, sickles, sharpened sticks, and a few spears. The Canova soldiers were more experienced; there was a good amount of knights, crossbowmen, and spearmen.

Salvador's host was prepared; spears, swords, bows, and lances held at the ready. Salvador mounted his steed and rode to the center point where Prince Benedict, Lord Estevan Álavar, Lord Herreran, and Lord Canova were meeting, all dismounted and armored.

Lord Herreran was an old man in his sixties. Lord Canova had brought his wife, a young woman in chainmail and plate armor. She had bronze hair and seemed to not be any older than twenty-five.

"Who is this young man?" Lady Canova asked.

Salvador dismounted and smiled. "This young man is Salvador Castellano, representative of Duchess Lillian Florjes."

"The Peasant of Veroña?"

Salvador smiled. Another person who knows me. "Yes."

Lady Canova frowned. "A mercenary," she said distastefully under her breath to her husband, but Salvador heard her. "The Duchess of Veroña sends a lowborn to do her bidding."

"This lowborn will destroy your host if it comes to it," he countered cooly.

Lord Canova spoke up. He was a man in his thirties. "You have no right to―"

"Enough," Benedict snapped. When everyone's attention turned to him he seemed to squirm a bit. "We came here to treat. Let us act like civilized folk."

"Since when does the serpent get itself involved the quarrels of the monkey and parakeet?"

"Since now," Benedict replied.

"What do you offer, prince?"

"It is no offer," Benedict corrected. "It is an order: Both sides in this conflict must lay down their arms and agree to a set of terms."

Lady Canova raised an eyebrow. "And the terms are?"

Benedict flushed. "I have two proposals: either you share the profits made by taxing Highbridge, or no one makes any profit."

Sharing is caring, Salvador thought and almost snorted.

Lord Herreran sighed. "With all due respect, young prince, I cannot simply walk away from this engagement without earning something. It will make House Herreran seem weak."

House Herreran is a minor house sworn to House Canova. This engagement will not change that fact, but Salvador held his tongue.

Benedict licked his lips nervously. "If you share the profits, you will be earning something."

"The other lords and ladies will not think so, young prince. They will think I bent to the will of the parakeet because the serpent and blossom showed up. I will not accept that."

"House Canova does not bow to the parakeet," Lady Canova added, her chin held high.

Estevan stamped his foot. "The parakeet has talons!"

"Lords, ladies," Benedict said in a reasoning voice, "please let us come to an agreement. Let there be no bloodshed on this day."

"There will be blood!" Estevan shouted, his face a burning red. He made to mount his steed.

"Fine!" Benedict snapped. "Then let it be known that House Álavar, House Herreran, and House Canova are all guilty of treason for disobeying the laws of the kingdom! If you will not come to your senses with words, then it shall be swords that do the talking."

Salvador spoke up immediately, "I stand with Prince Benedict on this matter. Lord Herreran, Lord Canova, Lady Canova, and Lord Álavar are all outlaws."

Salvador whipped around and mounted his horse. Benedict did the same. The two of them rode back to their hosts.

"At the ready!" Salvador called. "Battle is here!"

His host was ready; the knights fanned out to the wings with the infantry in the center and the archers behind them. The blossom of Florjes waved proudly in the air. The serpent of Navíste could be seen across them as Benedict's host began to move.

The Estevan's troops watched the two armies close in on them. At first, their thoughts were of relief as they believed the two hosts to be allies of them. Those thoughts of relief soon turned to fear as both hosts began to rain arrows down upon them.

The screams of the levies carried to Salvador. He spat at the ground and thought, this is what it has all come to. He blamed the lords and ladies for what he was about to do.

Salvador had his twin sabres over his back, a belt filled with a dirk and three throwing knives. He had brigandine armor over a mail hauberk to allow flexibility and a shield on his left hand. He watched as the arrows came down like a flock of crows on the confused Carcino levies. He watched as their organization began to crumble and seized the moment to strike.

Salvador spurred his horse and called the knights to him. The knights of Veroña all had shields of different colors and sigils. The light bounced of their gleaming armor as they spurred their horses from a trot to a gallop. He glimpsed Benedict leading the charge for his own knights.

All Salvador could hear was the thunder of a hundred hooves as they pounded on the ground, racing toward the terrified Carcino host. The green field spread out before them, if there were no armies on this field it may have looked peaceful and serene. . .

But it would soon be soaked in the blood of men.

Salvador's knights neared the Carcino men. The levies screamed and many of them dropped their weapons and fled. Only the small core of professionally trained troops held. The closer the knights got, the more levies fled.

Three hundred yards.

Two hundred.

One hundred-fifty yards.

One hundred.

Fifty.

Twenty-five.

Ten yards.

And then the knights of Veroña slammed into the Carcino host.