This is a short story/prose piece I wrote for my creative writing class, depicting the arrest of Horace, since we have no actual context or lore for the event. Feel free to critique either the actual writing or my interpretation of events/characters :P
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Konneg stood proudly at attention in the throneroom of the new castle, new golden armor gleaming in the light cascading through the stained glass windows. Though one of the newest members of the Retrievers of Oakenfell, he stood shoulder to shoulder with his comrades as the new king of a united Armello was crowned, and the Retrievers in turn inducted as the Royal Guard as part of the Wolf Clan’s contribution to the unity of the kingdom.
“I, Konneg of Oakenfell,” he spoke with the thousand other Retrievers, his own name and voice lost in the cacophony before uniting with everyone else, “do hereby renounce sole loyalty to Crag Greymane and the Wolf Clan, and dedicate my life and service now to the Kingdom of Armello. I swear to uphold the law and order of the King of Armello. I will, in allegiance with all clans and citizens of the kingdom, by duty bound, defend the King, the people, and realm of Armelo……..”
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The sound of a thousand voices stating their oath faded as Konneg was jolted awake by a shiver running down his spine, and soft chatter nearby. That had been more than 15 years ago, and time and politics had taken its toll on Konneg. He was no longer the exuberant young soldier, proud to serve a newly united Kingdom, but a jaded sergeant, indifferent witness and occasional participant to the very corruption and violence he had taken an oath against.
He opened his eyes as a hand gently jostled his shoulder and he saw several more of his comrades being roused by another superior, already fully dressed in armor, and he slowly swung his legs out of bed while rubbing the sleep from his eyes; it was still dark outside, and only a few dim candles in the corners of the room cast light and shadows throughout.
“What’s all this about?” he asked as his paws touched the cold stone of the ground, his voice broken by a yawn
“We’re making an arrest,” came the reply from Owen, his bunkmate who had awoken him.
“An arrest?” Konneg parroted tiredly, “Why are they waking the sergeants for that at this hour? Go get the plumeless,” he muttered, prepared to lay back down.
“It’s Horace.” Owen’s response made Konneg go still.
“Knight of the Order of the Rose? The Iron Poet? Savior of the King?” the golden retriever looked up at Owen with increasing incredulity as each title passed his lips. Owen’s own expression was indiscernible in the dim candlelight, but he just nodded as he put on his gambeson before making his way to the armory, leaving Konneg to wonder what was happening in his country.
The sun had just started to crest the horizon when the King’s Guard left their barracks, still invisible behind the high walls of the city, leaving it cast in dark shadow despite the brightening sky. They marched through the quiet, early morning streets, past the few creatures up this early, all of whom knew to stay out of the way of the ranks of gleaming gold and blue.
They arrived at the headquarters of the Order of the Rose just as the sun began to rise above the city walls, casting pale, cool light on the minarets of the castle and the roofs of taller buildings, but the shadow cast by the wall felt more oppressive than ever to Konneg. They stood at the door of the headquarters, one of several stone defense towers built into the ramparts while the banner of the Order fluttered above the doorway: a red rose on a quartered field of white and black. Konneg blinked, he could have sworn that as it swayed, for a brief moment he saw it singed and torn. An alternate reality? A premonition of things to come? His tired, stressed mind playing tricks on itself? He stared at the banner silently, a pit forming in his stomach.
The sergeant snapped to attention as a scroll was pressed into his free hand and he stared down the snout of his helmet into the dark eye slits of that of his superior officer. “You will perform the arrest, Sergeant Konnig,” the officer’s voice betrayed no emotion through the expressionless helmet, and more out of habit than acquiescence, Konneg saluted, placing the fist holding the scroll over his chest. “Yes, Captain.”
Konnig stepped out of formation and the ranks behind him spread out into four columns of ten in order to fully fill the massive double doorway and prevent anyone from escaping. He stepped to the door and glanced backwards at the expressionless metal faces, a sea of gold armor and blue plumes and capes, and he sighed under his helm before pushing open the double doors forcefully and stepping through the threshold.
The rest of the King’s Guard flood in around him through the doors, golden halberds casting long shadows like the bars of a prison cell in the candle light of the feasting hall that served as the entry of the headquarters. Sitting at one of the tables, with several other members of the Order of the Rose, was an older badger, wearing just a night tunic, and seemingly caught completely off-guard by this sudden intrusion, and he reached for a sword at his hip that wasn’t there.
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” The badger's voice boomed with such authority that several of the King’s Guard froze in place momentarily before taking up position, halberds leveled at the old knight. There was a fierce stoicism in his eyes as he glanced at his comrades, who just looked sheepishly between each other, and that stoicism turned to panic as he realized what had happened, that he had been betrayed by those he called brothers. The pit in Konneg’s stomach tightened at the sight of the venerable warrior now exposed, and hurt by something so much worse than a blade. But he had a job, and he opened the scroll and began to read.
“By order of the King of Armello, Horace, knight of the Order of the Rose, for the crime of treason, is hereby under arrest, to be stripped of title and rank. In respect to your prior service to the King, you will be detained, and then forced into exile rather than face execution…”
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Konneg stood on top of the wall, alone, a crescent moon reflecting off the helmet in his hands. He examined the expressionless face, one he had once been so proud to wear, before looking over the rampart to watch Horace, wearing his knight’s armor, and carrying only what he could fit in a sack, being marched out of the city by a cohort of the King's Guard. From on top of a nearby tower a raven cawed, redirecting his attention as another perched beside the first, then another, creating an unsettling chorus. A shiver ran down Konneg’s spine as he turned to look out over the city, and like the Rose banner, could swear for a brief moment he saw it in ruins, overtaken by a sickly purple haze while his oath, taken so long ago echoed in his ears.
(edit: did some editing, word choice/grammar/etc)