CHAPTER 11

"THIS IS GOD"

The sky is pale and colorless. Mist drifts low across the backfields. It looks like its going to rain but it doesn't.

Paul stands on the battlements, one hand over his brow, scanning the land with a calm, heavy focus of a man who already knows what must be done.

He gestures.

Lutheran nods.

His men move.

Shovels rise.

Shovels fall.

Dirt arcs through the air in slow motion.

The first trench line forms—shallow, wide, stretching across the back acreage like a scar.

Paul steps down from the wall, boots sinking into the damp earth.

He points, closer to the castle.

The men dig deeper.

Narrower.

More precise.

Three lines.

Three cuts in the land.

A quiet marker of survival.

Paul walks toward the creek bed.

Thirty infantry men stand waiting.

He walks.

They follow.

The abandoned steel-wheeled wagon sits crooked in the mud, still marked with bandit paint. 

The men begin gathering stones—large, jagged, river-washed. They toss them into the wagons. The wheels groan under the weight.

Others kneel by wooden tubs, mixing tar, clay, hay, and water with thick wooden paddles.

The mixture clings to their hands like black earth.

Stone cutters strike rock with chisels, sparks fly, flickering in the morning haze. Paul watches the soldiers work.

Their movements.

Their mistakes.

Their strengths.

The infantry carry stone blocks up the ramp to the battlements. Paul walks the wall, pointing to uneven spots, adjusting placements with his hands. The men set the stones down stacking them with tar-clay mortar.

Tall Pillars.

Short ones.

Leaning and Crooked Pillars.

A jagged crown forming along the top of the wall.

Shadows stretch between them like teeth.

Paul steps back, steadies breath, eyes narrow, hands on hips.

He approves.

—switch scene—

—FRONT GATE - SOMETIME LATER—

Three red cardinals sit perched in a high forest tree, looking down on the hayfields and castle fortress.

Hoof beats ripple across the field—faint vibrations in the ground.

Lilly, Rose, and Curtis ride in from the forest path. 

Rose is in front, pushing her horse hard.

She dismounts before fully stopping, boots hitting the ground in a run. She disappears into the castle without looking back.

Lilly slows Curtis to a calm stop. She dismounts with quiet grace, brushing dust from her clothes

Paul walks towards her. He stops in front of her.

Hands on his hips. Then he pulls her into a firm, relieved embrace.

Lilly closes her eyes leaning into the moment.

Curtis waits by the horses, a tired, knowing expression.

A steel-wheeled bandit carriage rolls forward past the stables, Paul and Lilly take the reins as four new white horses lead the way. They share conversation/ still rattled from the war, but happy to be with one another.

The road bends as they make their way to the village.

The village waits ahead.

The castle disappears behind the trees.

—scene fades—

—Switch scene—

—ROAD TO THERON'S LODGE—

The carriages rocks steady along the dirt road, wheels thudding in slow, hypnotic rhythm.

Outside the window, the world is a blur of banners, armor, and marching boots. Up front, the Kings guard rides with the Kings crests held high—deep crimson banners, snapping in the wind.

Behind them, twenty wagons loaded with tightly packed glow-leaf crates creak under the weight.

Nearly a hundred troops jog in formation around the convoy, their armor catching the afternoon sun.

—INSIDE THE CARRIAGE—

Blake leans out the window, elbows by the opening, chin relaxed on his arms. The sounds of the distant forest are swallowed up by the wind. He gestures over to Metro for a moment.

 Metro watches him, then promptly returns to

reading the scroll. The parchment old, but still intact, ink faded. Ana's handwriting flows like water, each line carrying spiritual weight.

Blake turns to Metro, watches him surrounded by the red cushioned interior of the King's carriage. Only the wheels outside crumbling gravel can be heard.

Blake: (interrupting)

"Pauls on a psychological warpath."

"Trenches and pillared spikes."

Metro keeps reading.

Blake looks out the window again.

Blake: "Well... at least we know we're not going to be sentenced to death."

Metro looks up, then goes right back to the scroll.

Blake:

 “What are you reading?”  

Metro:

 “History of our fathers… Ana gave it to me.

' Passed down from her ancestors… feels sacred.”  

Blake’s curiosity sparks.  

Blake:

 “I’ve written a few books myself,” he adds proudly.  

Metro looks over — calm expression, but glowing with happiness.  

Metro: 

“I’m lucky I know how to read.”  

Blake keeps talking to him.  

Metro keeps reading, the glory of his countenance reflecting the parchment.  

Metro’s eyes shift — The brown turning blue, rising quietly, slowly, unmistakably.  

The sun’s blazing, the sky a perfect blue dome watching over them.

Curtis gallops hard across the open field, hooves pounding, dust lifting beside them.  

Rose leans forward, yellow dress glowing in the wind, hair whipping back, eyes locked on the distant road.  

Rose: (sharp, commanding) 

“Faster Curtis!”

Her tone is uncharacteristically aggressive - urgency pressing forward. She spots a steel-wheeled wagon ahead, pulled by four white horses.  

Curtis surges toward it, closing the distance fast.  

Paul turns from the driver’s bench.  

Paul: 

“Lilly.”  

Lilly looks over her shoulder.  

Lilly:

 “Are you coming with us...?”  

Rose (breathless):  

“Yes, sort of... I’m going to find Metro. He left with the carriages, I’m catching up with him to find out where he’s going.”  

Paul and Lilly exchange a worried look.  

Paul (shouts):  

“Are you sure that’s—”  

but Rose is already gone.  

Curtis launches forward, kicking up thick dust clouds as they tear down the road.  

Lilly grabs Paul’s arm.

Lily:

 “I’m worried.”  

Paul reaches out, one hand in the air shouting over the rumble of wheels.  

Paul: 

“We’ll meet up with you!”  

His voice trails behind her as Curtis disappears into the sunlight.  

Rose bolts forward on her horse galloping hard catching the clouds she created. She sees the king’s carriage in front of several loaded wagons. She speeds up pace, closing the gap. Up ahead soldiers march in formation. Others ride around the twenty wagons left behind.  

The smell is bad thick in the air crates. Rose tries to snap her focus away from it. She passes the convoy—the troops, the wagons, the banners—and then she sees him.  

The giant Kings Guard riding in the front—her intuition spikes instantly.  

A bad feeling.  

Something off about him.  

She snaps her attention away—straight to Metros carriage.  

Curtis surges forward.  

 Rose jumps off mid-gallop — onto the wagon with a heavy bang.  

Blake jumps — mid sentence — eyes wide in terror.  

Blake:(gasping)  

“Oh!”  

Metro looks sharply toward the window/scroll still in his lap. The door swings open — Rose smiles brightly and makes herself comfortable.

She closes the door right in Blake’s face.  

His cheeks turn red.  

Rose settles next to Metro, circling her feet on the cushioned seat, resting her head on his chest.  

She starts reading what he’s reading.  

Blake watches the surreal moment unfold — feeling completely out of place — he slowly turns to stare out the window, in silence.  

Metro smiles down at her.  

Metro  

“Came to say hi?”  

Ross (smiling innocently)  

“I’m staying with you.” 

- VILLAGE FRONT GATE-

Outside the infantry and convoy roll. Beyond them the village’s front entrance. The entire movement comes to a light suspension -  

Paul and Lilly stop the carriage cart and hop off the driver's bench together. They unyoke the four white horses. They mount one each carrying the two other horses separately on held leashes, guiding the magnificent beasts to follow.

Paul leans forward in the saddle.  

Paul: 

“Let’s take the side gate - it’s shortcut."

Lilly looks over at him pulling her hair back.  

Lilly: “Are you sure...?”  

Paul nods, eyes fixed on distant road.  

Paul: “Trust me. I know where they’ll meet.”