You couldn’t say that the reinforcements from Duke Iker of Glasdale arrived at the opportune moment, the dozen or so dead mercenaries and double that number who were injured were evidence that the band had suffered greatly. Some who lost close friends cursed at the Duke for failing to inform them that the enemy had such a large amount of cavalry, as they were the main reason we had to retreat to the campsite and fight there, afraid of being flanked by the mounted enemies. The fight itself didn’t last too long, and I still had enough strength when our enemies retreated due to the approaching reinforcements, but there were no orders to pursue our enemy from the top.
We were mercenaries after all, and any pursuit no matter our advantage would result in further losses, adding to the casualty count of the band. There were about fifty men lying motionless on the ground, some of whom no doubt were from our band. The injured were being helped towards the command tent, which was converted into a makeshift infirmary, with us mercenaries taking trips back and forth to carry our wounded comrades to safety. Only after our enemies disappeared from view did Captain Lydon allow us to disperse, after which the cleanup of the battlefield began.
It was difficult to keep track of who killed whom when it came to a group battle of this size, so the loot would be divided between the whole band, although not evenly. I felt a little sick due to the stench of blood permeating the surroundings, and a host of other scents no less pleasant interspersed here and there. The men were separated into two piles after the armor, weapons, and other effects were picked clean, one contained slain enemies and the other our fallen brothers-in-arms.
Our squad suffered a loss as well, with Vaughn bleeding out from multiple deep wounds on his limbs, one of which almost severed his hand. There were no tears to be seen among our squad, although the facial expressions suggested that they might appear at any time. Dorian especially seemed unusually morose, not even daring to look at the face of our dead squad mate. When we had dinner that evening the conversation all around the camp was full of anger at the larger force that set up camp nearby, with most of the mercenaries putting the blame for the unexpected battle and its consequences on the lack of information that was presented to us.
The frayed tempers all around provided me an opportunity to discuss with Dorian quietly, without others being able to hear the contents of our conversation. I did not feel entirely calm either, since Vaugh was someone who I had no qualms with even though we didn’t interact all that much. Dorian was more responsive than I had expected to my line of questioning, as if he had been waiting for someone to speak to about his troubles. According to Dorian, he was to the left of Vaugh during the skirmish, and he had blamed himself for failing to cover for Vaughn when he was thrown off balance by a weighted strike, resulting in him receiving his last and most grievous wound.
I didn’t exactly know what to say to Dorian to get him to cheer up, so I relied on my vast knowledge that I had gathered from the media back on Earth and imitated the tone of a grizzled veteran to the best of my ability. I firstly pointed out that Dorian had enough on his plate as it was, since he had an enemy to look out for in front of him throughout the fight as well, and no matter how good he was it was still not his fault, as Dorian had already informed me the man who killed Vaughn was directly in front of him, not the man Dorian was fighting. I then tried to divert the blame that Dorian was piling on himself, and explained that it was only the first engagement of our contract, and there would be many more chances to avenge Vaughn by ending the life of the man who killed him.
I then pivoted by asking Dorian what the man who Vaughn was fighting looked like, and although he couldn’t recall any facial details due to the characteristics of the man’s helmet, his stature and the kind of armor he wore was enough for us to recognize him in the future, as he would no doubt be wearing it should we meet on the field of battle.
By the end of our conversation Dorian was part way back to his old self, and he even felt quite emasculated by having someone younger provide him some emotional support. He joked with me for a while longer, before asking me if I had any thoughts I’d like to share about the day’s battle with him.
Since he was willing to be open with me about his own concerns, I didn’t hold back and explained that this was the first time in a while that someone who I considered part of my ‘own group’ died, my mind pausing on that thought as I remembered the horrible state of Brian who had been killed by an Ironclaw almost a year ago now.
Dorian told me that these kinds of feelings would feel less bad with the passage of time, not being anywhere near as eloquent with his words as I was, not that it could be blamed on an uneducated youth. He patted my pauldron-covered shoulder with his hand a few times, before assuring me that it would be best to get some rest, as we would no doubt be on the move tomorrow once more.
His words proved prophetic, as we were awakened bright and early the following day by loud horns that were blown all throughout the camp, which were most likely intended for the levies. Almost simultaneously Gorkas entered our now haggard tent, which had been cut open in a few places by the enemy during the skirmish, although it wouldn’t matter too much since we were already in a warmer season of the year.
Gorkas gave us a short update about the goings on at the top, and that the captain had visited the Duke the previous evening, informing him of the enemy's substantial cavalry contingent, and showing his dissatisfaction at such information being withheld from him before we set out as a lone vanguard. The Duke seemed just as surprised at witnessing the cavalry force of Baron Lavin ‘screening’ the retreat of his infantry, and wanted to discuss the characteristics of the cavalry with Captain Lydon. After a lengthy discussion the Duke made an educated guess that the light cavalry we had witnessed the previous day had come from Lenay, which all but confirmed their involvement in this whole mess. He then compensated the band with a reasonable sum of gold for the loss of sixteen fighting men, along with almost double that amount injured, mollifying some of the Captain’s anger.
The news that the enemy would have over one hundred cavalry in the upcoming battle was harrowing to all, and the only silver lining in this unexpected development was that they were not heavy cavalry, but light cavalry. They would still fare quite well against undisciplined peasant levies according to Gorkas, but they would have a hard time in a fight against mercenaries or the Duke’s own mounted knights and men-at-arms.
The enemy did not have an advantage when it came to infantry, or overall numbers for that matter, so the Duke decided to not change his previous battle plans, intending to strike at the Baron’s fulcrum of power: Blackseed.
During the march the day after the skirmish, the mercenaries were positioned in the middle, no longer advancing at the fast pace of the previous days. We had a lot more weight on the wagons, with the wounded increasing the load on the pack horses, our pace now matching the rest of the army. It would have been a tall order for the Duke to convince us to sally out as a vanguard once more now that we knew that the enemy had a substantial mounted force at their disposal.
We were undisturbed throughout the day by any enemies, although a few whispers could be heard from the men further ahead that they could see a few cavalry here and there observing our advance. Whether this was the truth, or just a figment of an overly-stimulated mind I could not tell, but regardless the safety in numbers of the thousand-strong army gave me a sense of security on the day’s march. If the whole army had kept the same pace as we had during the first two days then I had no doubt that we would be able to arrive in the vicinity of Blackssed in three days, but with the levies and wounded slowing us down we were still a fair distance away by day three, although the following day we were assured the walls of Blackseed would become visible.
The night passed uneventfully, with some of us having to be on watch duty regardless as the captain did not trust the Duke’s sentries to alert us in time should the enemy resort to harassing as a tactic. I was one of those unfortunate enough to be chosen, but no matter how intently I stared at the darkness surrounding the camp, I could see nothing unusual.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
With tired eyes I fell into the crude marching formation in the morning, and by noon the signs of civilization became apparent all around us. The fields were green with the crops being planted neatly as far as the eye could see, with farmsteads visible with their roofs standing out clearly among the palette of green colors. The army abruptly stopped at the crest of a hill which was in the direction where the city of Blackseed was located, and not too long afterwards the orders from the Duke came down to form up in battle formation.
Although we could not see anything over the hill, with us being in the middle of the column we still dutifully headed to the left flank, where we were told to form up. The closer we got to our intended position, the more shouting I could hear from the panicked levies, some of whom were in a state of distress at the thought of impending battle.
I myself was somewhat disturbed, as I still had not seen exactly what our enemy looked like, and how many of them there were. When I finally saw the walls of Blackseed, the sight of the enemy which looked to be no larger than our force made me breathe a sigh of relief. At least the information the Duke provided was correct, and the odds were still in our favor according to everything Gorkas had been saying the past few days.
The enemy was formed up outside the walls of Blackseed, with the infantry being in the middle, with the cavalry evenly divided on either side, protecting the flanks. The enemy was not formed up neatly in rows, but rather a sideways oval, with the middle being a lot thicker than the sides. There was a group of mounted men behind the infantry, although they were not large compared to the cavalry on the flanks.
My mind was already prepared for the upcoming battle, and my excitement turned to impatience after about half an hour of waiting for the enemy to make their move. They seemed content to just sit there however, waiting for us to descend and fight them on level ground, our hill giving us a defensive advantage.
The Duke didn’t seem eager to engage either however, forming us up as a precaution for an enemy charge rather than preparation for an advance of our own. After about an hour of waiting and nothing else happening half of the levies were stripped from the formed up battle line and began preparing a camp behind us, while we still dutifully stood there, facing the enemy.
By the second hour of our waiting, I was already quite annoyed with both commanders, and was quite eager to just get on with the battle as the waiting was sapping my strength. I had asked Gorkas casually if it was alright for us to just sit down, and then stand up should the enemy begin to approach, but he snapped angrily at me that I should just shut my mouth and follow orders, otherwise he’d have me thrown out of the band.
The impromptu staring contest lasted for at least an hour longer, but the enemy ‘blinked’ first and began retreating inside Blackseed once more, which we mirrored shortly afterwards by going inside the camp on our hill.
The whole affair seemed quite odd to me, but the others in our squad who had tasted battle beforehand said that this was just part and parcel of warfare. Gorkas was a lot more mellow during dinner that evening, and fielded questions from myself and a few others who wanted to know what exactly happened.
He said that all of what he was going to say was his own thoughts, and he couldn’t know exactly what the commander of our army thought, which was still better than nothing and we eagerly listened to his explanations. Since we had already marched for a few hours the strength of the men would have been sapped, so attacking an enemy was unwise. The reason we were formed up for so long on the hill was that it was a show of strength, to dissuade the enemy from making an attack of their own, although should they have attacked we would still have the overall advantage.
That part made sense, as attacking would always expend more energy than defending a static position, which made me feel a lot less irritated about the day’s events. I then asked Gorkas why the enemy would form up outside of the walls of the nearby fortified city, since in my mind it would be a lot more logical to defend the city walls rather than face our force in the open. To that he said he had a lot less information to give, as it dealt with the realm of politics just as much as it did with the military considerations.
Firstly, cavalry would lose most of their effectiveness in confined spaces, so by hunkering down in Blackseed would be like taking one’s biggest advantage and simply choosing to not use it. The other thought was that should we confine them within Blackseed the surrounding lands would be defenseless, and prone to raiding. That might not sit well with the people of the city, as the farmers that were closest had also retreated into it, and the food reserves were not endless.
The Duke most definitely had more financial resources than his rebellious vassal counterpart, although the strength that he had gathered had been impressive regardless, since I thought the position of a Duke was far above that of a Baron. I had said my thoughts aloud, and Fisk informed me that the title of a noble might not be the best estimation of one’s power.
He said that money and military strength were what gave a noble a degree of influence and authority, and it was not unheard of for certain nobles to be even greater in strength than their ‘official’ liege. My simple way of thinking was corrected by Fisk’s words, and I thanked him for telling me about this, since I was not that well-acquainted with how things were in noble society.
He didn’t seem too fussed about it, and said it was to be expected from a commoner, and nothing out of the ordinary. I had caught on to the implication of his words, but he just gave me a toothy grin in return, so I didn’t press him any further on that.
Near the end of our evening meal, Gorkas was summoned to the command tent and bid us all goodbye, and we were left to stare at the fire we had gathered around to wonder about what changes exactly tomorrow’s day would bring.
***
Gorkas walked at a fast pace to the command tent, having much the same thoughts as the soldiers in his squad, but much more profound due to his years of combat experience. His own gut told him there would be no waiting around tomorrow, the Duke not being eager to part with his money any more than other greedy nobles. His thoughts were confirmed when he saw the other squad leaders gathering in the tent ahead, it seems he was not the only one who was summoned.
Captain Lydon immediately greeted him when he entered an honor that was exclusive to him among squad-leaders, before beginning to get to the heart of the matter.
“Ah, Gorkas! I was wondering when you’d turn up, come we were just going to discuss the plans for tomorrow, the Duke seems to be set on fighting the Baron after we all get enough rest tonight” Captain Lydon exclaimed, before leading Gorkas himself to a seat of honor among the platoon-leaders, rather than his fellow squad-leaders.
“It seems that most of us are already here, so I shall begin by explaining our plan for tomorrow. The Duke suspects the enemy will arrange themselves in the same manner as today, which means that the flanks are going to be the place where the battle will be decided…” He continued, before making a pause to make sure his officers were following along.
“...The Duke will send all of his mounted knights to the left flank, to prevent it from falling quickly to the enemy cavalry, while our whole band will be formed up on the right, our goal for tomorrow is to prevent the enemy cavalry from flanking the center, and at the same time rout as many of them as possible from the battlefield, before turning our sights on the enemy’s center. We will have a few hours to accomplish this goal, as he thinks his knights will manage to hold off the enemy cavalry for that long, so we will have to win on the right flank within that period of time” He explained, before pausing for a moment to observe the reactions of his men.
None seemed to have much to say about it, as the plan was sound in an orthodox way of military thought, so he nodded to his Vice-Captain to continue with the explanation.
“Our success tomorrow will also impact how many villages will be presented to raid as a reward, the spoils of battle will also most likely include Lenaian horses, which would fetch quite a sum after we head south upon completion of the contract” Vice-Captain Werley added, which evoked a much more enthusiastic response from the mercenaries.
“Keep these plans to yourself, we will be able to see how the enemy forms up tomorrow from our higher vantage point, so should things change the Duke will pass down new orders, for now I would like you all to head back and begin planning the position of your units for tomorrow with the Vice-Captain. Alula, Gorkas, you stay here” Captain Lydon commanded, after which most of the men began vacating the now much-roomier tent.
Gorkas was surprised at being singled out again, but Alula just looked upon the stoic man with an entertained expression, inferring more from this situation than the man in question. Lydon didn’t put on any airs like his noble background might have suggested, and just sat down comfortably at the same table where Alula and Gorkas were already sitting, before engaging the man in conversation.
“I wanted to thank you both for recruiting the boy who warned us of the ambush earlier, the hectic situation afterwards did not allow for it but I wanted to let you both know that your work was being appreciated” Captain Lydon praised them both, a disarming smile on his face.
“I seem to remember Gorkas not being entirely happy with Lev’s presence in his squad” Alula joked, causing the usually calm Gorkas to feel flustered.
“Is that still the case?” Asked Lydon, playing along with his recruiter’s antics.
“No, no. He has proven to be much more useful than I had originally thought…” Gorkas responded honestly, the whole situation foreign to his usual ways.
“Indeed. Make sure he doesn’t die tomorrow, I’m holding you both personally responsible for that.” Lydon ordered, surprising Gorkas with his wording.
“Both?” Gorkas clarified, assuming he misheard the Captain.
“Yes, I was told your squad is one man short since the skirmish. Alula here will be filling in temporarily” Lydon elaborated, Alula nodding with his words.
“It’ll be like old times Gorkas, although I’m not sure the captain will allow us to face much combat” Alula eagerly commented, patting his old squad-mate on the back.