The smell of blood and burnt oil was thick in the mercenary siege camp. They had been launching large boulders covered in burning oil at Fort Grahl for the past two days, but last night they had ceased fire when a battalion from the fort had attacked them. The battle had been swift and the prisoners few.
Bodies lay strewn in the mud between the tents, most of them belonging to the soldiers from Fort Grahl. Opposite of what the lord of the fort had hoped, the attack had raised the morale in the mercenary camp.
Since morning, the mercenaries had been drinking to their first of many victories and the raised spirit was felt camp wide.
“To your good name, Lady Thera!” Shouted a large mercenary as his commander passed, his cup raised as far above his head as he could.
“And to all the gold your victory will bring us!” Shouted another.
“May our blades find common purpose again once this is over,” said Thera, sending a smile towards the celebrating mercenaries. The men cheered in agreement and continued their drinking while their commander continued her trip. She was on her way to the war tent to discuss the army’s proceedings with the other commander in camp, Lord Galeforte Blackshield.
“I couldn’t drink even if I wanted to,” Aïsa, the Lady’s squire, commented, her hand on her stomach and a nauseated expression on her face.
Lady Thera was getting used to the heavy odour of war, but her squire did not have the same stomach for it.
“Me neither. The battlefield is not a place for merriment,” Thera replied as she stepped over a corpse half buried in the mud, “And the dead do shatter one’s appetite for ale.”
Aïsa let out a chortle at her lady’s comment, but her face quickly soured as she too had to step over the corpse.
The siege of Fort Grahl was Aïsa’s first real battle and her lady’s fifth. She had been Lady Thera’s squire for three years and accompanied her on several quests for foreign kings, but they had never been hired to join a war before.
“What do you make of this campaign?” Thera asked, her eyes focused on the path ahead instead of her squire behind her.
“I was more fond of hunting hidden artefacts or wanted criminals,” Aïsa replied, “I mean, I can handle a dead body. I’ve killed several men before, but this. This seems too much. I don’t even know which king I think is right.”
Lady Thera looked to the sky, pondering Aïsa’s answer without lowering her pace. Thera was a machine with a mind for efficiency. Even Aïsa, who had trained at the Army Academy of Caz Carryl since the age of twelve and was wearing light leather armour, had a hard time keeping up with the steel clad Lady Knight in front of her, despite them walking in thick mud.
Before they had met, Lady Thera of the Land had been Princess Thera Edmonnes, King’s Commander of the City Kingdom of Caz Carryl. Gaining the office at the age of eighteen, after having bested her father’s former commander in single combat, she had served under both her father and later her brother and won four great battles in their honour, before resigning her office at the age of twenty one.
“I agree,” Thera said as they neared the war tent, “I did not become a Hireknight to fight for foreign regents. This will be our first and last, though the reward is great. If we win this battle, we can buy a ship and sail to any continent on Belhame we want.”
“I don’t understand why you do not just ask your brother for a ship,” said Aïsa, “Has he wronged you or something?”
Thera stopped outside the war tent and looked at her squire, “I love my brother. We are fine, though he struggles to understand why I chose this life instead of the one I had in his court. I don’t want to ask him because I want to deserve everything I have.”
Thera raised an eyebrow and let out a soft “hmm” as if something occurred to her, “I suppose that is why I left as well. I don’t want what is given to me just because I’m me. I need to deserve my praise, my wealth, my fame. You cannot possibly imagine what it feels like. Having been showered with all you could ever want since birth and then, suddenly, you’re given the title of King’s Commander not because you were the king’s favourite daughter but because you bested the man who actually held the office. You were better because you had trained and studied, not because you were born. You finally deserved something.”
“I understand, though I cannot relate. I was basically born in a sewer,” Aïsa told her with a joking smile.
“Then you must understand,” Thera retorted, “If you were born in a sewer, then you’ve deserved everything you’ve ever gained. Your first fight was for the right to live! Mine was for the right to soup rather than sandwiches.”
Aïsa shrugged, “Perhaps.”
“I am proud to even know you,” Thera said, putting a hand on her squire’s shoulder, “Never have I met a more deserving woman. And together we shall claim victory. As well as King Krovik’s two thousand gold pieces.”
Lady Thera let go of Aïsa’s shoulder and headed inside the war tent. It was the biggest tent in camp. Inside, the ground had been covered with animal skins and in the middle of the tent was a large table surrounded by four chairs. Two maps lay unfolded on the oaken table, one of the territory around Fort Grahl and the other of the fort itself.
“Good. You’re here. How does it look out there?” came the calming voice of Lord Galeforte Blackshield, the other commander King Krovik had hired for the campaign.
Like Thera, Galeforte was a former noble who had renounced his title and lands to seek work as a Hireknight.
Hireknights were expensive mercenaries that only regents or nobles could hire for jobs thought impossible for ordinary mercenaries, like; Leading an army or serving as armed escort for people of importance. Hireknights also carried a document called the “Oath of Neutrality” which allowed them to operate outside the borders of their employer’s realm. This meant that a king could send a squad of hireknights to hunt a traitor who had sought refuge in a neighbouring kingdom, without their presence being considered an act of war like the presence of ordinary knights would.
“The trebuchets are being repaired and should be ready to renew fire within the hour, and one of the prisoners from last night’s attack has caved,” Thera told as she walked up to the maps, “He said the southern wall is as good as crumbled, though it does not look like it from out here and he estimated their numbers to be between two hundred and four hundred.”
“He does not know how many men are in his own army?” Galeforte almost laughed. Beside Lord Blackshield stood his own squire, a tall and muscular woman by the name of Rotta Griss.
“He is but a footman,” Thera explained, “Apparently their captain was the first to fall. Not odd, they fell so quickly.”
“A shame. But we can work with his intel,” Galeforte said and leaned against the table in front of him, staring at the maps, “I propose the trebuchets focus fire on the southern wall once they’re ready.”
Thera stepped closer and looked at the map with him. There were only three army figurines on the map. A red knight stood on the fort, representing the Tâl Talan lord’s forces, while a blue and grey stood on either side of the large river that ran around it, representing King Krovik’s camp and the mercenary camp respectively.
The fort itself was built on an island in the middle of the river Aroxes, making the fort one of the better protected bastions in the entire world of Belhame.
The river Aroxes was not a deep river, the water only reaching a normal human’s chest where it was deepest, but it was a dangerous one. Aroxes had some of the strongest currents known to man and the fort was only reachable by boat or by daring the river on foot.
“Once the wall is down, we man the boats, eight footmen and four archers in each and then the rest will follow on foot,” while Galeforte explained his idea, his fingers ran along the map to visualise his intent, “Only boatmen will be armoured in plate and chain. Everyone else will have to don leather armour or light clothing.”
“Won’t that put them in unnecessary danger once we’re inside the fort?” Aïsa asked.
“No,” Thera dismissed her squire’s worries, “Our steelclad will lead and take the heaviest blows, then our lighter fighters will follow and cut down any stragglers. And the assault last night has left us with twenty additional boats. Fast ones. Built to cut through the current. I want our best and heaviest fighters in those.”
“Agreed,” Galeforte said with a nod, “We should -”
“A message from King Krovik!” A voice called outside the tent.
“Send him in!” Ordered Thera while Galeforte stepped back from the table. A thin man entered the war tent, his face dirty and his clothes bloodied. He walked inside and knelt, breathing heavily after his long run.
“Stand and give us the message,” Galeforte commanded after a short moment of silence. Through panting and heavy breathing, the messenger relayed his king’s orders; “Krovik has crushed the northern wall. He has ordered a full assault at sunset. You first. He will join after an hour. A battalion with ladders will arrive this afternoon.”
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“Ladders?” Thera questioned.
“For the walls, my lady,” the messenger replied.
“I know what they’re for, but an assault relying on ladders will cost us many lives. We can tear down the southern wall by morning, if not sooner,” Thera replied.
“He will hear no objections, my lady. Assault at sunset or there will be no payment for you, nor any of the mercenaries under your command,” the messenger explained, “And Krovik said to remind you; he hired the mercenaries and he does not think they will harbour much loyalty to those whose actions caused their payment to be rescinded.”
“Basterd,” whispered Galeforte, “Alright, you can go.”
The messenger left the tent as exhausted as he had entered and left the two commanders to their thoughts.
“Ideas?” Galeforte asked.
“Let’s hope the trebuchets bring down the southern wall by sunset,” Thera said with a pessimistic grin, “If not, we should put six footmen and six archers in each boat and pray to our Lady Mother that their arrows will claim the walls before we have to rely on ladders.”
* * *
The southern wall still stood tall against the bombardment from the trebuchets at sunset.
“Do not stop firing until the first boats have arrived at the fort,” Lady Thera informed the siege crews on her way to join Galeforte by the river bank.
He stood with his eyes on the fort, silently acknowledging the certain doom of the mercenaries under their command as she stepped up beside him.
“If luck is on our side, that wall will fall before the men arrive,” Galeforte said, his voice nihilistic in tone.
“Luck is to be trusted just as much as King Krovik’s mind for strategy,” Thera joked. Galeforte laughed.
The mercenary camp consisted of thirty different companies with ten to forty members each. Thera had only ever met one of the companies before and although she commanded strangers, she felt bad about sending them into a lost battle.
She turned around to face the men. They stood along the river bank, ready to row to what they believed would be victory.
Aïsa watched nervously as Lady Thera took a step towards the army and drew her sword only to thrust it into the ground.
“Inside those walls hides a coward. A coward whose death will give us all a large sum of gold, directly from King Krovik’s coffers!” Thera shouted. Scattered roars erupted among the mercenaries, others simply smiled and raised their weapons to point confidently at the fort in the river.
“And while gold is the beloved mistress of any man, she is not worth dying for! What is worth dying for is your comrades! Your brothers and sisters in arms! Those that rely on you to survive the coming battle and receive the gold Krovik has promised us! We fight not for the king of Torlunden! We fight not for the gold he has promised us! We fight for each other! We fight for our right to live without king nor country!” Thera shouted, rallying the mercenaries under one common goal, “Tonight we fight and die for all mercenaries across Belhame!”
Roars and cheers deafened the sound of boulders bashing against the southern wall.
“To battle!” Thera shouted, her blade raised towards Fort Grahl.
Aïsa drew her sword and joined hundreds of mercenaries in repeating Thera’s words, “To battle!”
Thera watched as the heavy infantry boarded the boats, six footmen and six archers in each. She nodded to Galeforte, “If we win this, we should join forces permanently.”
“We’d be the best Hireknight commanders in history,” Galeforte acknowledged, “I accept.”
“The moment of truth,” Thera said aloud, but mostly to herself. Being one of the army’s steelclad soldiers, Thera had chosen to lead the assault and Aïsa had chosen to be by her side.
“Better this than swimming,” Aïsa fired as they boarded one of the twenty boats from the fort.
Adrenaline rushed through their bodies like waves in the heart of a hurricane. Their enemy, tiny shadows atop battered walls, instilled both fear, wrath and a will to kill.
The footmen grabbed the oars and rowed with the strength of oxes, fighting the current for their place on the river.
The light from fiery boulders reflected off the river’s surface as the boats traversed the volatile waters.
“Archers!” Thera yelled once the boats had crossed half of the river. The archers readied their bows and aimed at the shadows on the walls, but before they had a chance to fire, a hail of arrows descended upon them.
“Shields!” Shouted Thera and her order was repeated across the boats. The footmen brought up their shields, protecting themselves and one archer each. Despite their efforts, a fifth of their number fell to the arrows of the enemy.
“Archers!” Thera rallied her archers a second time, “Loose!”
The mercenaries’ arrows did not find their targets as easily as the fort’s defenders’ had. Few shadows disappeared behind the fort’s wall, while the rest readied another volley.
“Shields!” Thera roared once more as a second wave of arrows fell menacingly from the sky. The footmen did their best to protect their comrades, but both archers and warriors found their flesh pierced.
Aïsa witnessed as Thera stoically stood against the tide of arrows, her golden shield shining in the golden light of the setting sun. She also witnessed as a wayward arrow found its way into Thera’s thigh. Her Lady’s mortality portrayed in front of her.
“Archers!” Thera shouted a third time and snapped the shaft of the arrow in two as she gave the order to bring death.
The arrows struck the wall’s defenders as boulders struck the wall itself. A loud sound of victory was heard as the final boulder brought the southern wall to its knees.
Cheers and bloodthirsty roars were heard across the river as the attackers witnessed the wall crumble before them just minutes before their boats collided with the bank.
Steelclad warriors rushed ashore, ready to face any enemy hiding behind crushed walls. The defending forces were quick to conquer their fallen wall, appearing from all sides of the debris to meet their foes head on.
The ensuing battle was bloody and chaotic. Mercenaries fought vigorously for a place of land on the island while the terrified defenders tried to force them into the river.
“This will be one for the taverns,” Thera shouted at Aïsa. The Lady lowered her visor, raised her blade and ran towards the enemy with her squire close behind.
The battle was fought in a single line running along the crumbled southern wall. Behind the fighting defenders stood more soldiers, ready to die for their lord, while restless mercenaries waited for space on land in the shaking boats.
The strong current slowly pushed the boats along, panicking the invaders who could not find footing. Many were forced to push their comrades further onto shore, causing the fighting front to lose both balance and focus.
Thera was at the front, the sound of steel clashing against steel raising the adrenaline in her body. Her heart was pounding, her vision focused. Battle roars and cries of death surrounding her. She brought down her weapon, felling a defender of the fort. She lunged forward, killing another.
Aïsa followed as close as she could, trying to make herself useful but there was not a lot of space. Dead bodies and allied soldiers pushed against her from all sides. Weapons whistled and mercenaries fell.
“Make space! We’ll drown in this armour!” Shouted someone from behind. Aïsa turned to look, but was pushed as the mercenary behind her tripped. She lost her balance and fell into Thera, knocking her lady’s shieldarm aside just as a blow was about to land.
A warm feeling rushed over Thera as her opponent’s blade found its way into her stomach. Thera bashed him in the head with the edge of her shield and cut his face in half on his way down. She fell to her knees, landing beside the knocked over Aïsa who was struggling to get up.
Mercenaries forced their way past the fallen pair, accidentally stepping on Aïsa’s legs as they went. The squire made her way to her kneeling lady and lifted the visor, “Are you alright?”
“I’ve been stabbed,” Thera gasped, blood pouring from her mouth.
“It’s fine,” Aïsa said assuringly, “The sword is still in there, maybe that will slow the bleeding.”
“I have to get it out if I’m to move,” replied Thera, her eyes wild and confused, “This crowd will push it in further.”
“Let’s get you to the boats. We’ve done what we were here for. We’ve distracted the enemy. King Krovik’s forces will take the fort from the other side,” Aïsa said.
“You’re right,” Thera tried to focus on her squire, “You’re right. We can… we can leave. We can go back and look at my wound.”
“I’ve got bandages in the tent,” Aïsa said with a smile, “You’re fine. You’ll be fine.”
“Of course I will,” Thera agreed with a pained smile. Then she grabbed the sword and pulled it from her body with a painful scream. Blood poured from her wound, soaking her tunic and painting her armour. Aïsa was quick to grab her lady and get them both up.
“Make way! The commander is wounded!” Shouted Aïsa as she forcefully made a path for herself and Lady Thera. The mercenaries tried to move as much as possible, but the road to the boats was narrow and Lady Thera grew heavier in Aïsa’s arms.
“Let me rest,” Thera said.
“You can rest once we’re safe,” Aïsa explained, frustration conquering her mind.
“Of course,” Thera agreed once more, straining to focus on the task at hand.
When they got behind the last line of mercenaries, Aïsa noticed the boats heading downstream. Most of them had gone already and the remaining few were leaving at a hurried pace. She mustered all of her strength and almost carried Thera to catch up to the boats.
Then she heard the thuds of arrows piercing flesh behind them. The defenders had resumed firing upon the invaders from within the fort’s courtyard.
She heard bodies fall behind her and the rallying cries of the defenders. She saw the remaining mercenary forces struggling to walk across the river. She dropped Thera on the ground and ran to catch the final boat before it left the bank. Roaring, she pulled the boat back where she left her lady, witnessing the slow defeat of the mercenary army.
“Come on!” Aïsa yelled, “Stand!”
“I can’t!” Thera shouted defeatedly from the ground.
“I can’t get you and hold the boat! Stand!” Aïsa demanded through gritted teeth. Thera screamed as she forced herself through the pain. She got up on all fours and crawled towards the boat.
The defenders pushed against the mercenaries, forcing the remaining warriors towards the river. Aïsa reached a hand towards her lady, her other hand fighting to hold onto the boat.
“I’ve got you!” Aïsa yelled victoriously as she caught the hand of her lady. She pulled Thera towards her and pushed her onto the boat. She had saved her. She had saved her lady.
Then she heard the thud of arrows piercing flesh again. This time she felt it too. A painful warmth rushed from two points in Aïsa’s back. She became dizzy, her grip on the boat failing. She fell onto the boat and joined her lady in a silent journey downstream. They looked at each other, staring into one another’s eyes.
Solace.