Chapter 16: The Last Keep

Evyn’s narrowed eyes didn’t leave Loryn, whose disheveled hair hung in front of his face. Not that there was much to look at as the metal cage they sat in was pulled by the Forsaken’s horses through the dead landscape, rattling and shaking as it drove on the uneven road, making it difficult for them to rest their tired eyes.

‘Naïve Bastard,’ Evyn thought to himself. He couldn’t believe that someone could be so careless to give a stranger they had just met their sword.

Bored, Evyn turned his eyes to the man sitting in the cage’s corner next to the entrance. After ignoring Loryn, who first tried to explain himself, Evyn attempted to start a conversation with the old man, dressed in thin, dirty cloth just like them, only to get either insulted or ignored.

The man spent most of his time either sleeping or mumbling to himself, his half-closed eyes directed at the cage’s floor.

Alone with his thoughts, Evyn had long figured out what the Forsaken were trying to achieve. Unlike Loryn, he knew that the Last Keep wasn’t a place where one could find honor or heroism. Gone were the dreams of tagging along with an idiot noble kid and being treated well by the Forsaken. The images of warm meals every day and a soft bed to throw himself in quickly faded from his mind and were replaced by scenes of him trying to survive in the east and coming back tired and dirty, only to clean the stables. Still, he had a speck of hope that Loryn could convince the Lord of the Last Keep that he was a noble and not some common criminal. But as he looked at Loryn with his thin body wrapped in ragged cloth and his pale skin contrasted by dirt, he thought it to be exceedingly unlikely anyone could be convinced that they were in the presence of the son of Ellia Oldflower.

.

The Last Keep couldn’t be called something as simple as a castle.

It was a gigantic construction that stood directly on the narrowest part of the land bridge that had connected the two continents. It stood like a beacon of hope, surrounded by nothing but death.

As the enormous gates opened, Loryn looked up at the tall grey walls that stretched to the steep cliffs and could hear the waves of the Nameless and Crystal Sea on both sides crashing into them.

Loryn’s eyes couldn’t focus on a single thing as they darted through the castle’s yard.

Evyn shook his head as he watched the boy before him curiously look at everything like a dog before he, too, let his eyes wander.

The surprisingly busy yard was enormous. With peaked interest, Evyn watched the men carry wood and stone through the yard while paying the newly arriving recruits no attention. Evyn could see the shadows of a blacksmith thrown on an open door by the fires inside, repeatedly hitting the hot metal before him. The constant sound of the clashing metal was mixed with men groaning every time their blades hit each other and made a clanging sound while they were training. Two Stonemasons that stood to the side carefully worked on a rough stone with a hammer and chisel while other men led a couple of horses through the yard.

Arren also looked around, but his eyes were filled with confusion rather than curiosity.

In the seven years that he had been with the Forsaken, he had never seen so many men actually working.

Since he was brought here in the same cage, Evyn, Loryn, and the old man were in; the castle yard was largely quiet. One could’ve only heard the laughing and yelling of men either trying to kill each other or drinking.

As Arren looked around, his eyes caught sight of Raylin indifferently looking down at them from a window before turning away.

Arren tried to gulp down his arising nervousness.

Although they rarely saw him, nobody liked the Lord’s son. He spent most of his time in the east. He and a small group of men he had handpicked went out for weeks at a time and came back only to resupply before heading back. Arren didn’t think he had ever even seen the Lord’s son smile, let alone laugh.

Arren shook his head, hoping it would make the thoughts of the Lord’s son icy gaze fade quicker. “Broden, bring the prisoners to the cells,” Arren dismounted his horse and threw the man next to Deston an iron ring with multiple keys attached.

Broden only nodded in response before also dismounting his horse. “Bring the horses to the stable,” He threw the rains onto Deston and opened the cage.

“Let’s go,” He urged while rattling the cage, waking up the old man that had been sleeping.

Loryn stepped out first, and Evyn followed.

“Old bastard,” Broden angrily whispered before stepping into the cage and throwing out the old man who hadn’t made any effort to move.

Deston watched with clenched teeth as Broden impatiently pushed the three men into a dark room at the end of the yard, only lit up by torches that hung on its moist walls, and down some narrow stairs. Although all the cells were empty, Broden threw them all into a single one before leaving.

Evyn flinched away from the wet wall he had just leaned on and let his eyes wander around the dark cell as droplets of water fell from the ceiling.

“And, is it as great or even better than you imagined?” He teased Loryn.

.

“Come in,” A low voice sounded from inside the room.

Arren slowly opened the door before taking a deep breath and stepping forward.

“You called for me, Lord Wyne?” He looked at the man, who kept his eyes on the documents laid out on his desk.

“Why were there only three men in the cage?” Raylin asked with his head leaning on his hand while carefully reading through the last seeker’s report.

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“Well, I ordered Broden and Deston to watch over them, but the idiots let one escape,” Arren explained.

“You have been here for seven years, correct?” Raylin sighed.

“Yes, Lord,” Arren nodded.

”If I remember correctly, Deston has just joined, and Borden has been here for three years. So not only does that make you the one with the most experience, but that black cloth on your shoulder also means you’re also their superior, correct?”

“…Yes, Lord,” Arren hesitated.

“Good, you can leave,” Raylin waved Arren away.

“Yes, Lord, Thank you,” Arren said before spinning around and leaving the room, afraid the Lord might change his mind.

Raylin sighed before stepping away from his desk and looking out of his window down into the yard.

He always thought his father was too lenient, but the Last Keep wasn’t his responsibility until a month ago, so after a while, he stopped complaining. When his father fell ill, he knew what was expected of him, but he dreaded it more than anything else. He never desired to be the Lord to a bunch of low-life criminals. He had never wanted to be a Lord to anyone at all. In fact, he liked spending his days in the east, and although one had to fight every day to survive, it gave him a strange feeling of calm. He was responsible to no one but himself.

He didn’t have to look after people.

If he made a mistake, he’d be the only one who had to suffer for it, but now. Even though today’s Forsaken only consisted of less than two thousand men, they were his responsibility.

After he had taken over as the Last Keep’s Lord, he facilitated significant changes.

When he entered the archive and read through the Forsaken’s history, he noticed many systems and ideas that were once core components of the brotherhood weren’t in effect anymore. If they were just forgotten or purposefully gotten rid of, he didn’t know, but he had brought back the structure of the four major groups that previously made up the Forsaken.

The Seekers were responsible for obtaining information.

The Builders were responsible for maintaining the castle.

The Wardens were responsible for supplying the Forsaken with food, clothing, weapons, armaments, and everything else needed to maintain an army.

And the Guardians were responsible for fighting for and protecting the Last Keep and Beymore.  

It took a while, but he managed to assign every man in the Last Keep to a specific group.

Under the oversight of the handpicked men, Raylin previously went to the east with. The Builders began to repair the many damages the Last Keep suffered under the severe neglect of its past Lords.

The Wardens maintained the weapons, armaments, and archive better while also hunting for more food.

The Guardians began to train their swordsmanship better. And the Seekers not only obtained information about the numbers and locations of the greys in the east but also slowly began to build a network for information regarding Beymore.

What he had also brought back was the mandatory branding. Dozens of men tried to desert every month, and with the already lacking numbers of men, the Forsaken couldn’t afford to lose any more. So Raylin ordered every man needed to get a brand so that they could be recognized and sent back in case they deserted.

They were drastic changes, but with the changes in the east reported by the Seekers, he thought them to be

necessary.

Before he could lose himself further in his thoughts, another knock resounded from the door.

“Come in.”

“Lord Wyne, you called for me?” A middle-aged man entered.

“Yes, Dallen. There are three new recruits. First, assess them and then assign them accordingly,” Raylin ordered. “Oh, and assign Arren to the next expedition party.”

“Yes, Lord,” Dallen bowed before stepping out of the room.

With no one bothering him, Raylin returned to the many reports whose contents made him nervous.

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