Give me what you've got for: the horn.
Visiting plans did not fall through today, but that's because plans were never actually formed (someone was supposed to call to arrange a time to come over and didn't). On the plus side, we got quite a few things done around the house instead.
We're taking Max to see our family doctor for the first time tomorrow. Just a general checkup and a chance for her to meet him, plus we'll have our usual array of questions to ask.
Also: I'm curious to see how much he weighs now.
They were to be blown the moment an enemy was spotted by one of the tower guards - one short blast for any force too small to be considered a threat, and three short blasts followed by a long note for anything larger. There was no written rule about the length of that final call to battle but each guard understood that their horn was not to be set aside until the entire castle had been brought to the walls.
Six towers stood watch over the citadel and a guard was present and watching within each at all hours of every day. The six guards on duty wore their tower's horn on their left hips nearly always, with the lone, brief exception coming during the changing of the watch when the horns were passed on to the next man. At no other moment were the horns to be found elsewhere.
The penalties for allowing a horn to slip beyond your reach while you were on watch were brutal and carried out in the main courtyard before all of the residents of the castle - all those who were left vulnerable by your negligence. This had only occurred once, three generations ago, but it was still an event spoken of only in nervous whispers.
Invaders had attempted to slip past the castle defenses in countless ways but none had managed to successfully avoid the piercing cry of the horns, that shrill shout of a younger brother alerting the household to an older sibling's attempt to sneak out after curfew.
But they continued to try, for the treasures held beyond those walls were legendary. Enough gold to purchase a fleet of dragons, unparalleled weaponry, unbreakable armor. Dusty, dark tomes of wicked magic that history was in the process of forgetting.
Powerful motivation for men consumed with greed, fixated on power. But no man outside those walls has ever forced their way inside. Every attempt has been doomed to failure.
But my attempt shall be different. Mine shall end in triumph and glory. For I have an advantage over those desperate fools.
I was born inside these walls.