With the knowledge that there was some mysterious task ahead of us throughout the winter my paranoia jumped to the forefront of my personality. As we were marching through the mountain pass I was constantly on the lookout on either side, expecting a roll of boulders to come crashing down at any moment, which was an unreasonable fear. After exiting the mountain pass with no attacks made on the band, we were now back in the hinterlands, the homeland of the Captain, and all of his higher-ranked officers. My mind began to put two and two together, and I began speculating on the nature of this well-paying task that was in store for all of us.
I wasn’t against having a larger amount of travel funds for when I left the band, but there was no such thing as a risk-free commission when it came to mercenary work. There would always be the looming threat of death overhead, and usually the better the pay, the greater the risk. We were probably going to wherever the homeland of Captain Lydon was, and chances were that we would be in for a fight once we got there.
I couldn’t do much swordsmanship training on the way there, since our days were filled with marches and on day’s off we would not be allowed to stray too far away from the camp. The men in the band were too tired to get up to too much mischief anyway, the marches we made on the way sapping the stamina of all but the camp helpers who drove the wagons. I myself felt very worn out as we made our first stop in Zelan, although this was more for the sake of resupply than any rest.
I kept up with my meditations, which was already a common sight among my squad. At the very beginning I got a few odd looks from those in the band but eventually this was written-off as some quirk in my personality in the minds of the mercenaries. I got a new dose of strange looks from Luvar, who attached some religious significance to my long periods of being still and silent. He actually asked me outright if I was speaking to the gods, which caught me off-guard and made me begin laughing.
The camp helpers were the busiest while the rest of us were lethargic, moving around wagons expanding our supply train even further. What they brought in was not only food though, since there was still a large amount of it in the band’s possession. What they brought in, was a large amount of spears, shields, and even some swords. The quality of these weapons was nowhere near as good as what we were using, their purpose being in numbers rather than good craftsmanship.
How much all of this must have cost made Fisk come to me and pick my brain about what it was that we were getting into, as it made no sense to head south where it would be colder, stock up on a large amount of supplies, outside of the campaigning season no less. I didn’t have any answers to give him, so I just answered honestly and gave him my own theories about the topic.
He agreed with my own conclusions, that we were most likely headed for a fight in Captain Lydon’s territory, but what good that fight would do for the average grunt in the band remained unknown. Was this a raid? If so, why would we need so many weapons? Three minds were better than two, so Fisk dragged Cameron along for a walk outside the camp where we could discuss these things away from interested ears.
He managed to poke holes in most of our theories as if we were gearing up for a raid we’d need empty wagons not full ones, and gave us a theory of his own, that we were going to participate in a rebellion or a revolt, performing a similar function to the Lenaian cavalry we fought in Blackseed. That would explain the large amounts of food, and the weapons as well, both necessary for a successful military operation. That would also explain the secrecy in regards to the particulars, as no rebelling noble would want a paper trail to link back to them in a way of a contract.
I thoroughly enjoyed talking with both of them, who proved themselves to be very intelligent individuals confined by the opportunities for commoners in Euphelia. I got the feeling that one if not both of them could reasonably have achieved a degree in a university back on Earth if they were in my shoes, but that would require Cameron to learn how to read and write first. Our speculations remained just that, and we didn’t have some large epiphany about the task ahead of us, so eventually our grumbling stomachs led us back to the camp where a measly gruel awaited us for dinner.
To no one’s surprise, the stop at Zelan was short, and by the third day of our presence there we were already unpacking all of the tents and on the move again. This time we were moving directly East, going a little bit south every now and again when the path ahead of us was proving difficult. The tension in the air among the bad was palpable, as even the dumbest mercenaries were beginning to feel something wrong in regards to what we were doing. Usually there would be some clear contract in front of us, with at least some information regarding our upcoming work to satisfy our curiosity.
This time around however, there was barely anything, and the more days we spent marching the more I got the feeling that there was a ‘breaking point’ approaching us. The weather was turning for the worse as well, and if not for all of the extra blankets that we purchased in Zelan there would be people falling ill before long. On a cold autumn’s evening, when all the other mercenaries were either assigned sentry duty or were huddled around fires next to their tents, a meeting of squad-leaders and above was called in Lydon’s usual command tent.
The faces of those not in-the-know were worried, fearing what dangerous job necessitated such secrecy, and some were clearly doubting the leadership capabilities of the man who stood dead center of the tent, flanked by Werley and another man who I had not seen before.
“Greetings to all of you, I gathered us this evening to come clean about the nature of the battle that is ahead of us, now that we are so close to our goal. We are already in Netsam, the alliance that borders the land where we will be spending our foreseeable future. Many of you know me as Captain Lydon, the leader of Backhand Blow, but those who knew me from before my time as a mercenary captain will know that my full name is Lydon Novak” Lydon began his announcement, before pausing for dramatic effect.
Most everyone knew that those with surnames in Euphelia were very powerful, or wealthy individuals, perhaps even nobles. The thought that the mercenary captain of their band was a noble was quite shocking, as not many would degrade themselves to the level of the average commoner, and if they did that usually did not bode well for what was in store.
“The place we are going to is the Novak Duchy, a neighbor of Netsam. I am the rightful heir to those lands, and after my treacherous brother poisoned my father and stole my birthright, I was forced out, never meant to reclaim what was rightfully mine. But never did I stop wishing to right the wrongs of my kin, and my purpose in building up Backhand Blow was to eventually return to my home, and clean out the rats that are infesting it.” Lydon said with passion, looks of shock and disbelief on the faces of most.
“Adan here, who most of you will not know save for Werley and a few others, is a man-at-arms in my service who has just returned from inside the Novak Duchy. He brings detailed information about the forces of my brother which will aid us in moving into the duchy during late autumn, and then building up an army to face off against him come spring. The path ahead of us is not easy, but should we succeed I promise wealth to all who survive, and to the most exemplary of you I will guarantee land and titles” Lydon finished, seeing that the promise of elevation from commoner to nobility appealed to almost all.
I understood it quite well myself, as if one was not a noble then there was little in the way of rights and security afforded to a person. I myself was trying to wrap my head around the difficult months that we would collectively suffer through, as winter was not a pleasant experience this far south. If we could succeed however that was a different story, being a noble wasn’t something I particularly wished for, but some wealth meant that my options for the future would expand.
Lydon gave us permission to ask any questions we would have, but since I was the youngest of squad-leaders, already the lowest rank, I chose to refrain from bringing any unwanted attention upon myself. After a half-an-hour long question and answer session, we were dismissed and given permission to inform our squads about the campaign, and even Lydon’s true identity. I myself was hiding mine, so I understood that revealing one’s identity wasn’t something that Lydon wanted to truly do, but his hand was forced by the circumstances we were currently under.
I gave the shortened version of Lydon’s announcement, and some tidbits of information that was asked of me by those in my squad, but the news was most surprising to those who were not already suspecting something fishy was going on. Fisk and Cameron actually slapped their heads, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place, wondering how they didn’t come to this conclusion on their own.
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The following morning the band marched with a sense of purpose, the fear of the unknown no longer dragging our feet along the dirt path, the way ahead promising possibilities that many couldn’t even conceive of before yesterday’s announcement. These possibilities did not wait for us in the Novak Duchy, but turned up on the path ahead equidistant from two towns that were placed along our route to the duchy proper.
A caravan of wagons was positioned in the middle of the path, with a few even flipped over, with some people fixing the wagons. It would not be that much trouble to move around them, and our orders were given to begin moving off to the side so we could leave some space between the two groups. By moving to the right of what looked like a merchant caravan, our group moved closer to the edge of the forest, which was not sporting green coloring any more.
The distance of about forty paces between us and the forest proved to be a godsent, as a large armed group ran out from deeper in the forest, with some arrows flying from some men positioned at the edge of the forest. The unexpected attack resulted in many who were marching on the right side of the wagons to fall, arrows hitting men who were not wearing their helmets.
My squad was at the very back of the marching column, so we were given a lot of leeway when it came to reaction time. My very first thought about the men who were attacking us from the right, in the forest, was the wagons which were positioned must have been involved in the attack that was now unfolding.
I turned my squad around, and gave an order to brace for an attack from the left where the ‘merchant caravan’ was making repairs. No sooner than I gave my order did even more men rush out from the still-upright cargo wagons, and the men who were up to this point making repairs began to don armor and pick up weapons presumably to join in as a second wave.
The men all had proper weapons, and varied armor in the same way that we did. Their size was difficult to ascertain from the very back, but they matched our numbers at the very least. The attack from both sides focused on the ‘middle’ of our column, which almost broke if help from the front and the back didn’t start coming in.
The platoon leaders all had very good experience, and Gorkas passed down orders for us to begin consolidating our forces near the middle, and we were to abandon any wagons that were now stationary. Losses in material could be recouped, but if too many of our band died today then there was little chance we would be able to continue on with the plan.
My helmet felt very heavy on my head, this unexpected attack not giving me time to prepare for the killing that I would have to do in order to survive. It also limited my vision, which made me isolated from information outside of my immediate vicinity. When our squad reached close to the middle we were thrown into the battle line on the left side, but Gorkas’ order was explicit to not overextend and stay on our defensive.
I shouted my own battle cry, less to intimidate the enemies but more for my own courage, and delivered a clean slash from the top to an enemy who was busy fighting Kurt.
***
“They are moving as you had predicted Baron…” Captain Creen mused, watching the battlefield from atop a flipped wagon on the side, giving him a great overview of the battle.
“It is the smart military response, and Lydon Novak was educated in military affairs since he was a child. It is not too difficult to predict what the smart ones would do, it’s the stupid ones you have to watch out for” Baron Cadmar responded, standing near the wagon in a position of relative safety, should a stray arrow come his way.
“You’re funny Baron… I think I'll join in the fun, can’t let Oss and his girls have too much fun by themselves” Captain Creen announced, jumping down from the wagon and taking his personal guards along with him to the mass of men who were engaged in combat in front of him.
“Make sure you don’t kill the boy, capture as many as possible” Baron Cadmar ordered, reiterating his orders for the umpteenth time.
“Sure..sure.. Are you sure you’ll be able to recognize him?” Captain Creen wondered, still in the dark regarding why this noble with deep pockets would want a young mercenary.
“I haven’t seen him in about a year, but yes I trust my memory, and the others we will capture will point him out to us anyway” Baron Cadmar answered, going off on a tangent near the end.
“When’s the cavalry arriving? They’re gonna be necessary if they break ranks and flee” Captain Creen asked, already seeing the tides turning in their favor.
“No need to worry, with Grey Tempest and your own League of Blood, plus twenty or so riders there’s no chance any of them will escape, I just worry that in all this chaos the target will die…” Baron Cadmar reassured, trying to convince himself as much as the mercenary captain.
“I suppose, but they better get here sooner rather than later, just in case” Captain Creen continued to make his suggestion, although understandably there was no way the Baron could move the Novakian men-at-arms.
“They’re mounted Captain, they’ll make their appearance sooner than we might expect…” He calmly replied, before gesturing with his eyes to the dust cloud from the East.
***
The fighting was much more brutal compared to what I had expected, there was only on both sides at the moment, and the lack of cavalry resulted in a slow and deadly melee that moved back and forth intermittently. The presence of new recruits in the expanded band was the factor which eventually led to us being pushed further and further back, the backs of the infantry being pushed up against the wagons in the middle on both sides.
In my own squad Luvar, the one who had the least combat experience had already fallen, becoming annoyed at his strikes failing to kill the man in front of him, and moving forward too much, getting the men on the periphery involved. The other eight and myself were still up, although some were sporting injuries of varying severity.
Eli, the one who had the most experience out of our new recruits, was bleeding from his temple, barely visible through his helmet's visor. I didn’t see how he earned that myself, but I heard it as the sound of two helmets clashing together was hard to miss even among all the other cacophonous sounds on the battlefield.
In my brief reprieves after injuring an enemy to the point where they were forced to retreat, or managing to fell one that was just as eager to fight as Luvar was, I began to think about what it meant to be ambushed here in a prepared battlefield. These other mercenaries were most likely hired by the current Duke Novak, to deal with this threat to his position without giving it a proper chance to dethrone him.
If we were to emerge victorious, even by the most optimistic margins, the band would be badly mauled and require extensive time for recuperation before it was fit to fight at its current potential. The element of surprise was clearly gone too, perhaps one of the ‘brothers’ was feeding information to Lydon’s enemy all along.
Things got even worse with the rumbling sound of hooves approaching from the far side of the battlefield, the arrival of reinforcements for the enemy no doubt. Cavalry was generally great in dealing with infantry, but even more so when they were trying to flee for their lives. The terrain was advantageous for cavalry, with the exception of the trees on one side, but that was also the place where the majority of the enemy was coming from.
I didn’t have precise numbers but it looked as if about 70% of the enemy contingent was in the forest, with the other 30% hiding within the wagons on the road. This meant that any reasonable man who was trying to flee for his life would not rush to the closest forest, but rather to the one that was on the far side. Unfortunately for us, that large expanse of territory was perfect for enemy mounted units to ride us down, a plan that took these things into consideration it seems.
The voice of Captain Lydon who was standing in the middle of our own formation was shouting out encouragement and orders ever since my squad arrived in the middle part of the column, but it eventually became infrequent enough that I checked if the man was even still alive. What I saw when I looked behind my right shoulder was Captain Lydon preparing a large reserve, arming camp helpers with the weapons from the supply wagon.
They stood there, ready to fight at a moment's notice, and eventually an extra forty or so men made up of camp helpers and Captain Lydon’s own guard rushed forward and made a push through the center of the enemy line. The man was a beast, slaughtering three enemy men himself before he disappeared into the chaotic melee, and many more men from our own line joining him in a push to the closest forest.
Safety in numbers being what it was, I saw the cavalry readying up to intercept those who would flee into the closest forest, and made a split decision of my own. I moved quickly to each member of my squad, speaking loudly enough that they would hear me but still relatively quietly considering the sound of the battlefield.
I informed them of my plan, and as soon as I spoke to Castos who was the last to hear of it, I shouted and pushed myself into the battle line, this time heading to the far side of the battlefield. The enemy cavalry was focused elsewhere, and I thought that with the large amount of forced marches we were doing the men’s stamina could hold up long enough for at least my squad to break out of this predicament.
Going at it alone would have been much less noticeable, but I wouldn’t be able to deal with a cavalryman on my lonesome, something a squad of armed men could handle in a pinch. I stopped restricting my sorcery at this point, managing to move so fast that I put two enemy mercenaries on the ground in front of me in mere seconds, opening a hole through which my squad began to stream out.
Eli, who was still dazed from the bash on his helmet, didn’t follow along with us, either because he was too engrossed in the combat, or because he was suffering from a concussion or other injury. Since I was dealing with a larger number of opponents, with only seven other men in my squad still standing, we ran at a steady pace, making sure to conserve our stamina for any men who would seek to intercept our escape.
This interception came in the form of four well-armed men who were still hanging around at the wagons, but with our numbers being double theirs, and no stupidity in our actions, we managed to defeat the clearly experienced fighters in less than five minutes through teamwork, and some cheating on my part; using wind sorcery to accelerate.
I was one of the first to reach the treeline on the far side, but I was the last to make myself scarce out of my squad. Dorian noticed the lack of movement on my part, and came back and placed a hand on my shoulder as I stared at the carnage still occurring less than two hundred paces away.
“We can’t help them Lev, we need to focus on surviving long enough for their search parties to disperse, we were the only group who fled in this direction” Dorian comforted me, before giving me a harsh slap on my pauldron to snap me out of my reverie.
“I guess, I just wish things didn’t turn out this way…” I answered, before moving further into the yellow and brown forest.