Now Micheal was unsure how to proceed. If he went over to the enemy side then his possessions would be safe, but he could not be sure that they would accept him if they found out he was an exile. If things went really badly he might even be sentenced to death for being twice a traitor. On the other hand the castle was likely to fall, no matter what he did and no matter how hard he fought or what he did that was almost a certainty. If the castle did fall then he would die with equal certainty. Turning the paper over and using a stick of charcoal from the fire to write, he quickly penned a response and dropped the blunt arrow back into the enemy below with his letter attached.
There was some risk to sending messages back and forth with the enemy Micheal knew, but it was a calculated risk. His men were tired after a long day of repeated attacks, they were unlikely to wake up and even if they did, they were unlikely to pay attention to what he was doing. It was still dark and everything had died down so people on other parts of the wall were also unlikely to notice what he was doing. What was far more important was the assurance that was shot back over the wall, on a fresh piece of paper. The commander of the enemy, or now his ally army, swore to God that Micheal would be under his protection, a part of the army and not killed. Micheal very calmly set to work quietly disassembling all of the defense engines he had built, they might now be used against him. When a rope and grapple hit the wall, instead of cutting it, Micheal made sure it was firmly connected to the wall, and then climbed down it with the sack of his possessions over his shoulder.
Micheal showed the men at the bottom of the wall the notes he had received from the arrow messages and they took him to his new leader. Micheal recognized the man in the tent instantly, it was a lord who was a great favorite at court and had been a friend of his father's right up until his father had become open about his plans. Lord Grayham was well known to be wiser than his age would suggest and a cruel tactician. Micheal now felt no shame in knowing that he had admitted he could not beat the enemy.
“Treven's son aren't you?” Lord Grayham asked, once he had dismissed the guard and they were alone in his tent. “I thought I recognized some of the tactics, and the machines of course. He showed me the drawings, saying that they were for protecting the king. I could have just killed you, but since I figured it was you I thought I would just invite you. This is the better way and besides,” here Lord Grayham made a motion with his hand, “I wanted to see this personally.”
Micheal had just enough time to turn and see the man with the sword rush from hiding. He felt himself stabbed but then all feeling left and he fell to the floor of the tent, surrounded by blood he was shocked to think of as his. Lord Grayham came to stand over him.
“I wanted to make sure you got what you deserved, three times a traitor. A traitor by blood, a traitor to our country, fighting for our enemies; and lastly a traitor to the people who trusted you to serve their country. Had you served them maybe you would have lived.” It seemed to cruel to Micheal, in his last thoughts, that the last words he would ever hear were the flinty words of Lord Grayham.
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