The weight of responsibility fell like a stone on Miguel's shoulders. In his previous life, he never imagined he would end up in the middle of a conflict, especially one involving swords... the probability of survival was very low. He tried not to think too much about it; he could already see the city on the horizon. In a few minutes of galloping at full speed, they would be there... he just hoped it wasn't too late.
Miguel and his entourage arrived in the city in a frenzy of dust and pounding hooves. The scene that greeted them was desolate; the city was partially empty. The streets, which once had some life and commerce, were now almost deserted, with only a few soldiers running back and forth, hurriedly and focused on preparing defenses.
Miguel quickened his pace, his heart beating faster as he approached the main wall. The signs of an imminent battle were clear. The improvised barricades, the tense faces of the soldiers, everything indicated that the situation was desperate.
Upon reaching the wall, Miguel saw a small rampart filled with soldiers, all trying to organize a defense. The confusion and urgency in the air were palpable. He quickly slid off his horse, his eyes scanning the scene for any sign of his allies or a command post.
Determining the direction from which the command might be coming, Miguel straightened up, ready to take charge of the situation and lead his men in the defense of the barony. The fate of his home depended on the actions of the next few moments.
Climbing the wall, the soldiers looked surprised to see Miguel. As usual, he was accompanied by Ricardo.
One of the soldiers approached. "My lord, it's good to have you back with us..." His voice was tired.
Miguel nodded and asked, "Where is Thomas?" The soldier hesitated, but before he could respond, Arthur appeared. "He is a prisoner of those barbarians... My lord." He bowed slightly before straightening up again.
Miguel was in shock; his steward, one of the men who had proven most useful and necessary, was now a prisoner and in danger of losing his life...
"But... how did this happen?" Miguel asked, his voice already weak from the news. His anxiety began to rise. Just when things seemed to be going well, a wave came and destroyed his little sandcastle.
Arthur measured his words before speaking. He explained the entire situation to Miguel and how Thomas, on his own, decided to try to negotiate with the bandits and ended up being captured. To free him and spare the city, the bandits wanted Miguel in exchange.
Miguel ran his hands through his hair and looked directly at Arthur. "You should have stopped him from going there..." he sighed. "And they still want to bargain with us. It's obvious that even if I surrender to them, the city will still be attacked. They will kill everyone to leave no witnesses."
Arthur was confused by the young baron's last claim.
"My lord, forgive me for asking... but do you know these bandits?"
Miguel sighed. "They are not bandits... they are mercenaries, probably hired by my brothers to kill me. They don't want a bastard son of the duke to have the slightest chance of interfering with the succession of the duchy. Even though my chance has always been zero, as I said, I am a bastard."
Arthur processed all this information he had just received. Would the duke kill his own subjects?
"But now is not the time for this conversation," Miguel said authoritatively. "How many men do we have to defend this place?"
"We managed to gather 205 soldiers, and with you here, we are 212... However, some residents who decided to join us have only basic sword training. Of these 212, 100 are soldiers..."
Miguel thought about how precarious his situation was. He looked over the wall and saw that small sea of tents and soldiers. Surely there were no less than 500 men there.
Miguel looked around and saw some archers from the barony. He looked back at Arthur.
"How many archers do we have?" he asked.
"Only 32, my lord."
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32... Miguel thought. He looked at Ricardo. "Do you have any plan to improve our efficiency in defense?" Miguel knew that in his past life he was just an engineer; he didn't understand much about military strategies. He occasionally played some battle simulators, but that hardly applied in real life. These were real lives, and any decision could kill people.
Ricardo thought for a few moments before responding.
"We can use the archers. They can shoot from atop the wall. The problem is that this wall is fragile, and we have few archers... When they get closer, they will break through the wall in no time, and it will be urban combat, a true massacre for us. There are still people evacuating; if some of them pass by us in the heat of the battle, they can reach the people..."
Just thinking about hundreds of civilians being massacred turned Miguel's stomach... He didn't want to see the same scene that happened in that village again.
"What do you suggest?" Miguel asked.
"We'll have to take the fight to them and hold them off as quickly as possible. As soon as the refugees start reaching the barony's villages, the garrisons will know what happened... Thus, in a few days, up to 1000 soldiers will be gathered. It's not enough, but it's necessary to expel these barbarians from these lands..."
"Then until then, we'll just have to hold off these mercenaries even if it means giving our lives..." These words that Miguel said did not want to leave his mouth. But he knew that now, he was the only hope for these people; he and these few soldiers would fight to the last man. He didn't want to die, not again... but if necessary, then he would have no choice.
"My lord!" Ricardo began. "You must go with the residents; your life is very important. If you die, this barony will no longer exist... They will not send a new baron, and besides, I promised your mother that I would keep you safe at all costs."
"I will stay and fight," Miguel said firmly. "I will not abandon these soldiers. And you, I know how much you strive for me, and I thank you for that, and believe me. We will fight and survive. All of us, together." Miguel looked at the men who were watching the conversation as he said these last words and repeated, "Together." He began. "Today, you do not serve me. Nor even the duchy. You serve your families, fight for them. For their lives. They depend on you, want to survive? Want to live another day so you can see them again?"
Everyone looked at Miguel with confidence as they nodded in confirmation.
"Then today we will fight! And I will not lie to you... The chance of all of us falling in battle is high, but we will not fall so easily. Today these monsters who fight only for their own ego will know what a true warrior is." He drew his sword from its sheath and raised it high. "YOU, MEN AND DEFENDERS OF DRAKMOOR. ARE YOU WITH ME?!"
Everyone did the same and raised their swords and bows. Shouting loudly in agreement, “YES!” Arthur raised his own sword, looked at the men, and shouted, “LONG LIVE THE BARON!” All the men inside the city walls began to shout and bang their shields in euphoria, and a slight spark of hope formed among the soldiers.
***
“What are those lunatics doing?” said one of the mercenaries as they all heard the war cries of the city's defenders.
Peterson, who was next to Arthur, who was tied and gagged to a tree, said, “Looks like your master has arrived... Butler.” He said while looking at Thomas with a malicious and bloodthirsty smile. “Untie him from the tree, and let's take him with us.” He then shouted to the rest of his men, “Form up for battle. WE HAVE A CITY TO SACK, LET'S SHOW THESE BASTARDS WHO WE ARE!”
A mercenary appeared, panting after running to his leader.
“The mages, they've arrived!” said the mercenary.
Peterson's smile became even more evident.
“Perfect...”
Everyone began to form up for battle, preparing to advance against the wall.
***
Miguel and Ricardo knew they were outnumbered and that the situation required a clever and well-organized strategy. Gathered at a strategic point on the wall, they quickly and precisely outlined their plan.
“We need to keep the enemies away from the walls and the city,” said Ricardo, looking at the rudimentary map of the terrain around the city. “If we allow them to get too close, we’re lost.”
Miguel nodded, focused. “We’ll use the archers to provide support while we form a line of defense outside the gates. The archers will stay on the walls... We need precision and speed to take down as many enemies as possible before they reach us. Protecting the wall and the archers is essential; if we lose them, we won’t have any means of long-range attack.”
Ricardo agreed. “Exactly. We’ll position 32 archers on the walls. The remaining 180 soldiers will go out through the gates and form up. We need to maintain a solid line and prevent the enemies from flanking us.”
They discussed the formation in detail. “The soldiers will go out in two lines,” explained Ricardo. “The front line will be curved to protect the flanks. Only the soldiers in the front will use bronze-coated shields and spears, creating an impenetrable barrier. The center and the flanks must be protected at all costs.”
Arthur and other high-ranking soldiers listened attentively.
Ricardo continued, pointing to the center of the formation on the map. “In the center, we’ll place the less prepared troops without heavy armor. They will be protected by the front line and serve as support.”
After the meeting, the soldiers were quickly organized into three rows to exit the gates in an orderly and swift manner. The tension was palpable as they prepared to exit the gates. Miguel and Ricardo checked every detail, ensuring that everyone understood their positions and roles. The archers climbed to the walls, their arrows ready, while the soldiers positioned themselves to exit.
With everything ready, Miguel approached the gate, feeling the weight of responsibility and hope on his shoulders. He turned to face the soldiers, whose faces reflected determination and a mix of fear and courage.
“Men, today we fight not just for our lives, but for our home, our families, our future,” said Miguel, his voice firm. “Maintain the formation, protect each other, and remember: our strength lies in our unity.”
He raised his sword, signaling that he was ready. The soldiers, lined up behind him, were prepared to face the impending battle. The confidence in Miguel's eyes was a beacon of hope amidst the approaching darkness.
Miguel gave one last look to Ricardo, who returned an encouraging nod. With a deep breath, Miguel turned his attention to the gates in front of him. The battle was about to begin.