"Where are the others?" Alaric's voice was a weary demand. His figure was barely recognizable in the dark, battered and bloodstained from the brutal months of fighting.
"Sire!" The soldier called out, startled by the king's sudden presence, yet quickly subdued his voice in the stillness of the forest night. Alaric was dragging two unconscious, wounded soldiers across the forest floor with a makeshift banner while his face was devoid of any sign of pain or exhaustion, though his posture betrayed the toll of their arduous battle. "The captain discovered a cottage deeper in the woods. Please, sire—our remaining men are safe and being tended to. Rest yourself," the soldier urged, his own voice laced with concern.
But Alaric's expression remained steeled as the bitter remnants of battle refle
