**NOTICE: EPISODE CONTAINS GRAPHIC NARRATED IMAGERY**

Into the night’s air it sounded. 

[LOCATION - Castle Belleverde: Gatehouse]

The shrill shriek of a whistle called to men beyond the gates.

Demanding entry, they charged, pounding against the shut entryway.

From flanking towers, arrows met them. Officers responded in kind, felling few. Yet the rhythmic crashing and splintering of the gates continued.  But, not for long. 

For next, oil and flames rained down.

Then came the screams of grown men like babes. The sickening stench of burning flesh and the awful sizzling sounds to fill dreams months- years onwards.

Before such terrible things however, Sir Rícard and the others found themselves outnumbered. Under the wall’s shadow, and trapped. 

By lamp light, the castle’s monsters were made visible. Their weapons; as teeth bared, sought blood.

C. Maynard: No one leaves here! Kill them all!!

And now a fierce battle ensued. 

One of extreme rage and valour.   

The northern commander apologised not with his blade. He defended the group, cutting to pieces all opposed.

Boldness in their wicked loyalty, drove them to know no better. 

Desiring to serve their lord, to fight in his cause, they found death.

Their blood and corpses adorning his castle’s entryway floor.

Taking with him young officers, the general made for the front.

To raise the iron and open the gates. To let the besiegers in. Lest they all found the pointed end of a sword. Yet this brave act soon proved fatal. 

From above, hell poured its contents. White hot, peeling flesh from bones. And the courageous fell to the wicked machinations of- 

Commander Maynard sought not his prize through the entire fight. He instead threw foul and vile reproaches, remaining behind his men.

Sir Rícard however, set out with set intentions towards him. 

Pity was not had. Mercy neither. He slayed those who now ran to claim him.

In slaughtering those traitors, he soon made near the commander.

Commander Maynard proved flighty for someone so large. 

Maneuvering keenly backwards. Pushing forth others. Spewing filth from his frothy mouth. Feigning manliness and courage at the backs of his men. 

Then, down Sir Rícard went. An archer finding him. 

Protesting and stumbling, the duke persisted. 

And Maynard, seeing this, bounded on him. 

Seeking to disarm and cleave him into halves, he swore with his whole chest. 

Infested with hate, he flew into Sir Rícard’s face.

Each losing form, they struck as a woodsman would against a proud tree. 

With the front gates blocked, no help arrived. 

In spite of the men’s efforts, none made it into the gatehouse. There was no one to show favour or kind regard in their defence. All was lost.

With no more courage to be found soon, sweeping in on dark wings, would be death. 

Rícard and his men would all be dead. Their blackened bones crushed and scattered free upon some tempestuous wind. 

***

Upon said winds, came the late reply to the northern commander’s whistle. 

The whistled cries repeated, calling, alerting. It clung to the air, drifting in from the gatehouse’s rear. 

Under a stone bridge, the river flowed. 

Suffering its chill and near drowning, gained one access into the castle’s grounds. Climbing Imperial men showing themselves most skilled, did such. 

Past brushes and trees, under cover of dark, they went undiscovered. Rushing in and presenting themselves most formidable. 

So entirely turned the fortune of the evening. 

Ensuring Commander Rícard and his men the victory. 

When the battle was near over, however; his confidence gone, Maynard attempted to flee. 

Mercifully spared, he surrendered. 

His punishment for now, that of learning of his son’s revival from death and imprisonment. 

***

**

*

Walking in on the young captain and Commander Rícard, he interrupted a tender moment between father and daughter.  

With Charlotte taking leave, Commander Jenkins began in earnest

Comm. Jenkins: Commander Sir..pardon me, an urgent matter to report.

Motioning for him to speak, Sir Rícard stiffly adjusted himself on a chaise-sofa as he continued saying

Comm. Jenkins: There’s been an incident in Duke Winsford’s chambers.

Thinking the worst and believing that the duke would do anything to escape punishment, having been found in his treachery, he gravely asked

Cmdr. Rícard: Has he taken his own life?

Comm. Jenkins: No, no Sir. Our men..

Shaking his head, he painfully added

Comm. Jenkins: ..The officers keeping watch over him were all found dead and..

Cmdr. Rícard: …

Comm. Jenkins: ..and the duke is missing. 

A weight suddenly fell solidly upon his shoulders. And were it not for already being seated, he would have done so now. 

Comm. Jenkins:  A search of the residence and the grounds has commenced but…

Cmdr. Rícard: He’s escaped.

Comm. Jenkins: Yes, Sir. ..We believe so.