The following morning, the Captain-General of the Proctorial Army rose early and ordered his men to prepared assemble by midday. The men of the Proctorial Army began their extensive preparations to head back for the Walled Cities. The only things there were to be prepared for were another possible attack by the Maseriff, and packing enough food to last them for a while, should they be hindered on their journey. The first of the two required the cleaning sharpening of weapons, which took most of the morning. The Arimythians began preparing food for the soldiers, which was not too hard. The women and children of the village were busy baking bread and filling water skins down by the river.
Though this proved to be a tiring and long task, the Arimythians did it joyfully, as many for the villagers had taken a liking to certain city-folk such as the soldiers. The two peoples were entirely different from one another, in mannerisms, standards, and living habits. But, having never had a sole bit of contact with the other culture, the two peoples found themselves utterly fascinated with one another.
The village children admired the men, and thought them wonderful playmates. The military men enjoyed playing with the village children, as some of them missed their own families. They were, after having spent several days in Arimythia, still thoroughly amazed by the openness of the fields and the simplicity of life. They were saddened that they now had to leave this place; this utopia of sorts, but were greatly looking forward to the tales they would have to share with their friends and families once they did arrive back within their stone-walled homes. The sun was high in the afternoon sky when the men finally filed into lines to begin their march homeward.
- - - -
By the time the Proctorial Army finally arrived back at the Walled Cities, the glorious light of the setting sun was waning into a night of the uttermost darkness. The men were led in through the Eastern Gate, and marched through the city. People throughout Ilyana came to the doors of their homes or looked out windows. Other people gathered from storefronts to see what all the commotion was about. The Captain-General marched the column of men straight towards the grand building that divided the two cities.
There appeared to be no sign of a single one of the other six Proctors, at least not from outside. Halting the men with a raise of his hand, the Captain-General beckoned Akorsa and Fionn forward silently.
�We shall enter silently, us three and a handful of these men, and make use of the element of surprise. They are most likely to have retired to their quarters; we will go and fish them out from their rooms and arrest them. Do move carefully and silently, and if you meet resistance from any one of them; kill them,� said the Captain-General with a dangerous tone and angry tone. �Do watch yourselves; I fear that if either of you are confused for another one of the Proctors that the men shall kill you.�
Akorsa looked at the Captain-General through narrowed eyes that were now filled with suspicion. He was angry, and to this she could relate, but he was edging towards doing something radical, and she could see it in his eyes.
�Remember, Captain-General Verican, we are here to ensure justice,� she reminded him.
�Justice indeed,� he said with a cold edge to his voice. He turned then, and waved at a group of eight or so men into the building, all of whom followed their commanding officer inside.
�It has begun,� whispered Akorsa, taking one final look at Fionn, just before running into the building herself, axe in hand.
