"Most any conflict out there would be one part fighting for your very lives, and nine parts waiting between fights. Personally? I'd rather be fighting for my life any day of the week than waiting at all." - Poron Loskcher, Captain of the Boisterous Brigade mercenary company, circa 264 FP.
Fort Ascher
Holy Kingdom of Theodinaz, southern region
Western Alcidea
4th day, 1st week, 7th month of the year 2 FP.
Two days had passed since the meeting, and as predicted, the enemy forces that chased behind the survivors of the regulars had arrived yesterday and gathered with the ones surrounding the fortress.
While they easily numbered ten thousand, maybe twelve, they made no signs of attacking the fort again. The Graf had said that maybe their last failed venture had bred some caution onto their enemies, for they had failed to conquer the fort when it had merely three thousand in it with ten thousand of their own.
Now that the fort had roughly five thousand defenders in it, that caution was rather warranted.
While the fortifications had taken damage from the previous battle, most of it had been repaired. The east gate, breached by the enemies in the previous battle, was damaged beyond repair and was instead sealed up with soil and rocks instead, further solidified by the earth mages amongst them.
Such workings would work well against mundane attempts to breach the makeshift barrier, yet at the same time, it was also far more vulnerable to enemy mages, unlike the heavily enchanted walls and three remaining gates.
For Reinhardt and the surviving Free Lances, they mostly rested, and licked their wounds. The survivors reunited with their families and spent some time together, while the return of three healers - if weak ones - with the Second Company's survivors allowed them to focus their efforts better.
On the insistence of the badly injured survivors themselves, the healers were made to focus on the injuries of the lightly wounded who could contribute to the company immediately first. Elfriede was naturally one of the recipients of that treatment as one of their best fighters, and she had been freed of her sling as of yesterday night.
Reinhardt found her in the open area near their barracks, a place that was previously used as a training ground by the fort's previous inhabitants. There, he saw his wife sparring with Ylisera, with wooden sticks in their hands instead of their deadly blades.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Elfriede clearly focused on using her left arm in the offense, likely acclimatizing herself after nearly a week in which she wasn't able to use her left arm properly. Even so, Ylisera visibly had a hard time keeping up with her, and conceded the match when the wooden stick in Elfriede's hand rested against her neck not long afterwards.
"Up and about already, huh?" asked Reinhardt as he approached them. His steps were nearly silent out of habit, as his padded paws made little noise to begin with.
"Just making sure the arm healed right," replied Elfriede as she stretched her arms. She had not turned towards him, but that was a habit he had grown used to after the years. Since she does not perceive her surroundings through her eyes, she lacked many habits most people with working eyes had. "How's it going out there?"
"Same old. The bastards are just sitting pretty out there, likely waiting for more of their buddies first," he said in return with a shake of his head. Like everyone else, the Free Lances took their turn on watch at the walls, and Reinhardt had just returned from the morning's shift. "I always hated the waiting."
"Nobody fucking likes to wait, that's about right," commented Elfriede with a sigh. The wait got on their nerves a bit, and some people had been visibly more irritable because of it. "Hope the cocksuckers get their balls back and come calling before too many of us get antsy from waiting."
"They're also running on borrowed time," Reinhardt said in reply. Elfriede and Ylisera had started another bout by then, but he knew full well that she could hear him just fine while sparring. "The main forces departed Knallgant shortly after uncle Angus reported our situation, so they might be here earlier than we had thought. He just received a missive yesterday."
"Good news for once, at least," replied Elfriede nonchalantly as she clashed with Ylisera. Reinhardt knew from the way she intensified her attacks that she didn't feel like discussing the what ifs with him at the moment, so he nodded, and left her to her spar.
He walked further into the training grounds when he spotted two figures he recognized. Kasimir and Nicole were striking at some practice targets. The violent manner with which they struck suggested that they did so partly to channel some pent-up frustration and grief.
"Kas! Nicole, how are you two holding up?" He asked when the two had paused for a moment of rest.
"Oh, hi, boss," said Nicole as she turned around and faced him. The red eyes and the traces of tears on her face showed that she had just recently cried. It must have been very recent, as she had been on a shift just before Reinhardt's.
One look at the rhomphaia the young girl held in her hands told Reinhardt much of the tale, though. The odd weapon, which was like a short polearm with a long blade that looked like someone took a sickle and straightened it, was one used by Nicole's aunt… who had been amongst the Second Company's heavily wounded.
"Aunt Dacia gave it to me earlier," said the young girl with her voice strained, attempting not to sob. Her aunt had been the one who raised her, as her parents - both mercenaries as well - had passed away when she was still too young to recall. "She… she thought I might as well have it, since she… likely no longer had a use for it."
"They said that aunt Dacia might never walk again, barring healing from a true master healer," said Nicole as the girl finally sobbed and wiped her tears with the back of one hand. Her aunt had taken a spear to her spine in the ambush the Second Company suffered.
Reinhardt didn't exactly know what to do with the grieving girl so he could only rest his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. While healers who could heal such horrific injuries do exist, the cost for such a treatment tends to be exorbitant, and far beyond a mercenary's means.
"What about you, old friend?" he asked Kasimir, who still looked depressed, but at least it was somewhat better than the haunted look he had during their escape.
"Father was heartbroken and locked himself into his room with his grief," he said with a heartfelt sigh. His father was a gentle soul, a herbalist who usually helped take care of the children amongst the company's dependents. "I'm actually glad Lianne was an orphan, otherwise I wouldn't know how to break the news to her next of kin."
All Reinhardt could do was to give his old friend a hug in sympathy. The ambush had taken many loved ones from all of them. He had been fortunate compared to many others, yet he dreaded that his luck might not hold on forever.