My heart sunk when I found that broken armour and my thoughts drifted back to the Screaming Banshee Inn when I befriended the adventurer who once wore that armour. Something very powerful had ripped its leather adjusting straps right off the armour and I could only find half of the armour.
“What did you find there?”
I didn’t follow up with an answer, but I brought the armour to the cart and showed it to him. He must have realised what happened.
“Did you know that person?”
I nodded.
“Only for a brief while, but I never got his name.”
That became my only consolation. That world had its own charm, people were generally friendly, I would also get to see amazing things, but the other side of that was the sadness of losing a potential friend forever. I never made a commitment to know that man better, but I somehow felt he didn’t deserve to die like that either. We started on our way again. Grenfell didn’t say much afterwards, he could sense I was in a melancholic mood and I abandoned myself to deep thought while driving. If there were any monsters on the road, they made themselves scarce and didn’t bother us. Our arrival at the evening's campsite was a welcome sight for my weary eyes, at least there was enough sunlight left to properly set up camp, so there was no need to rush.
Unlike the night before, we shared the campsite with other merchants heading to Obon. We didn't move too close to them because they had accompanying adventurers as security, and we didn't want to be perceived as leeching off them. However, the moment we stopped to camp, the kind merchants came over and invited us to join their group. Surprisingly, the adventurer group called Allendros were happy to accommodate us. It certainly put my mind at ease that there were a few more swords around in case of monster attack.
I asked the leader of Allendros if it would be all right to put up traps for the night, to which they readily agreed. As I laid the traps the leader of the adventurers accompanied me interested in how I placed the traps so that no one in their group would find themselves inadvertently suspended in the air. To say the evening went without incident would be a lie because unfortunately one of the adventurers, a woman called Sustelia, made life difficult for me.
When I first greeted her, the first thing I noticed were her hands. Calloused from many years of adventuring she was no doubt a professional. She had braided blonde hair reaching to her waist. She reminded me of the classic image of a Swedish milk maid, but her muscled body ended any further similarities. She might also have been young, probably in her late twenties, but the demands of her profession made her look like she was in her forties. Her well notched leather armour looked like it received some serious blows in her lifetime. Most people would probably be wise to not to cross swords with her. I assumed she was the tank of the team, a term from earth’s gaming world to describe someone in a fantasy fighting group who shielded their team against enemy attacks, while allowing them to support from the rear.
“Hey pipsqueak! Does your mother know you're playing in the forest?”
Perhaps she mistook my staring at her as being impolite because for some reason we got off on the wrong foot, and although I didn't have any enmity with her, she became brutish in her mannerisms towards me. For the entire evening she continually bullied me as if I were a verbal punching bag, making the others in her group just shake their heads in embarrassment. It seemed there was some history between her and the team because later, the leader personally apologised to me asking that I forgive her oversight and then he went on to explain she was well known in adventuring circles for her insensitive temperament. I worked in an engineering world, where mechanics were not generally known for their wonderful personalities, so I wasn’t too fazed by her personality flaws although it tended to be wearisome. My only consolation was that I only needed to spend the evening there and we would part ways in the morning seeing they were heading towards Obon.
That night, while I was sleeping in the tent for the early night duty shift, all hell broke loose. We were all rudely woken up by angry shouting coming out of the forest behind us. The ruckus was so loud we immediately prepared for an imminent monster attack, large pre-prepared bonfires were fired up, horses secured and the whole campsite thrown into turmoil waiting for monsters to appear out of the forest.
A few minutes later, an embarrassed looking team leader of Allendros, along with some of the team came out of the forest to apologise for a misunderstanding. A scantily dressed and red-faced Sustelia came out of the forest with her team and it didn’t take a mathematical genius to figure out she had something to do with the racket. A hushed conversation took place between the merchants and Allendros. During the heated conversation and amongst much hand waving from the merchants, they cast angry glances towards Sustelia whose face was then turning the colour of ripe tomatoes.
Grenfell only smiled at the commotion.
“Let’s stay out of this one. They’ve got enough to deal with.”
Since the hubbub woke everyone up, there was no point in going back to sleep again, especially since it was nearly first light. It just meant breakfast started a little bit earlier than usual. We packed the carts without much fanfare, as we prepared to roll out. The leader of the adventurer’s group had a quiet word with Grenfell and afterwards he said his goodbyes to me, apologised on behalf of Allendros for the commotion that night, but didn’t say anything more. I think he trusted that Grenfell would tell me the rest of the story in a more opportune time, the situation didn’t bother me too much. Sustelia didn’t speak to me again, and there was no reason for her to do that anyway. I guess she felt too embarrassed for whatever reason. I wouldn’t see her again until much later. That was the last night we needed to camp on the road and the rest of the trip was smooth sailing until we reached the military camp later that afternoon. The old man took over the reins, freeing me to practice my skills.
I raised the metal sphere vertically using low and high air pressures to keep the sphere suspended in the space in front of me. Bear in mind the sphere suspension travelled relative to me, and because I moved forward with the cart the sphere also moved forward with us, appearing stationary to us. A tricky achievement but an excellent exercise in control.
“I see you’ve become quite good at that. Try to hit a tree at high speed.”
“You mean like a bullet?”
“A bullet?”
I forgot that Grenfell wouldn't know anything about modern projectiles like bullets, a slip on my side. He stopped the cart to make it easier for me to aim. I levitated a sphere about the size of my thumb and fired it towards a nearby tree trunk at high speed. It didn’t have an explosive discharge that you would get firing a bullet out of a gun. Instead, it reminded me of a rocket, quickly accelerating with a woosh until it hit the trunk with a loud thud. The old man smiled; boys liked their toys I sighed. Getting off the cart, I investigated the impact area and noticed the sphere hadn’t penetrated tree deeper than the bark. I managed to pry the metal sphere out of the tree trunk with my knife and presented it to the old man, who inspected it closely.
“I can't believe this thing could cause that amount of damage, and I expect it could do a lot more than that.”
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I nodded but it didn't want to tell him exactly how much damage because I knew there were still a few more things I could do that would substantially improve its efficiency. Since we approached the military camp, and I didn’t know when we might meet a patrol, I decided to quit further training for the day. However, the potential of that one experiment excited me. Honestly, I felt I could put a lot more effort into firing those spheres, but for that moment I needed to focus on improving my control of them, rather than increasing the firing force. I later discovered it was harder to do the former and quicker to do the latter. At least up to that point, I could give a large monster a severe headache or a smaller monster a one-way trip to the grave if I hit it on the head. Accuracy through control guaranteed better results because it didn’t help that I could fire an object near the speed of light, but I couldn’t hit my target.
“Hey Grenfell, what was that situation with Sustelia all about?”
He chuckled at my sudden question.
“I wondered when you were going to ask me about that. Apparently, she decided to do her ablutions in the forest despite the leaders request for them to stay out of there. It seems she ignored his warning to stay out of the forest. She tripped one of the snares you set up. They didn’t explicitly describe the situation, but I understand they discovered her scantily dressed and dangling by a leg from a tree, not a very enviable situation. That all aside, the fact that she woke up her clients while disobeying her team leader placed Allendros in an awfully bad light.”
I certainly didn't dislike Sustelia although I thought she needed to deal with a few personal issues. Even then, I hoped they wouldn't give her a hard time.
“What will happen with her?”
“Well it depends, if the team feel she embarrassed them too much, they may ask her to leave the party. Otherwise, in the best case, she may have to give up some of the reward for completing the task. Who knows?”
Why did I have a strange feeling Sustelia may get the worst part of that situation, especially in light of the way she treated me in front of everyone, blatantly embarrassing her team in front of the clients. I felt sorry for her, because she fell into one of my traps, but ultimately that outcome was purely her doing.
The first signs of the military camp ahead came in the form of an advanced check point manned by a small squad of soldiers guarding the road at the end of a straight run. That way they could see all traffic approaching them from a distance away. It seemed those guards kept a backup support team handy because I could sense other groups spread out into the forest in case an attack came from the forest.
A guard held up his hand, using the trans-world command to stop. When we stopped, he grabbed the reins of the front horse effectively preventing Grenfell from being able to move the horses without his instruction. I guess they were just being extra secure. A second guard approached us, and he, like the others, wore a metal breastplate, helmet, metal arm guards and shin guards. The rest of his gear, like the others, consisted of boiled ogre leather. All the soldiers carried a single body length spear and a sheathed sword.
His fired a question at us.
“State your name, your purpose, and where you’re headed.”
“My name is Grenfell, and this is my apprentice, Shane. I'm a blacksmith and I’m here to assist the military camp on the orders of commander Karato.”
The guard nodded.
“We’ve been expecting you. Stay on this road until you see the second guard post exit at the far end of the camp on the left. You should see the field hospital and the stores there. The guards there will dispatch a guide for you to show you where to unpack and set up your tent. I'll send word to the commander of your arrival.”
And that was that. Another set of guards at the far end checkpoint stopped us before we entered the camp. We received the same response as the first when we gave them our details, but that time they dispatched a mounted guard to guide us. As we followed our guide, my first impression of the camp reminded me of the biannual agricultural show held in the city where I stayed on earth. Dotted around were assorted sizes tents and marquees, with people, horses and carts going here and there. But I think it was more the smell of fresh horse manure and animal sweat that made me think of the agricultural show. If it wasn’t for the constant display of weapons and military uniforms, I would be keeping an eye out for for the stockyards.
The mounted guard led us up a small grassy hill about twenty meters high. Clearly, all the camp’s logistical support lay in the area we entered because I easily picked out the mess hall, stores, and field hospital amongst the sea of tents below us. A short while after we decided on a spot to setup our tent at the top of a small low hill, which gave us a wonderful vista over the camp.
“I’m surprised we’ve been given this spot, it has quite a commanding view of the area.”
I thought aloud.
“It’s too close to the border of the camp. No commander will place a strategic asset at the edge of a military camp where it can be easily accessed.”
“So, what you’re saying is we’re an expendable non-strategic asset?”
“You say that so eloquently. We’re not a pushover either, perhaps the commander knows that. But look on the bright side, we get the view.”
He said satirically as he waved his hand over the camp. Yes, from on top of the hill I could appreciate the view. To the west of us, stood the hospital and the rest of the main military camp. The camp stores lay to the south, closer to the main road where the merchants and other civilian support groups camped to the east of us on the outer edge of the military camp. Unfortunately, the flat space on top of the hill tended to be a little too narrow for most of the larger tents used by the military. Also, we discovered there may have been more purpose behind keeping the hill booked for us after we spotted five military types climbing the hill. Grenfell recognised their ranks.
“Ah, military cadets.”
Their similarly coloured uniforms looked like simplified versions of the usual military gear we saw the soldiers wearing on the way in. They didn’t have any protective armour, but they were all armed with long knives strapped to their left sides. A single white stripe on each of their shoulder lapels confirmed their cadet status, while the guards had a minimum of two stripes. One of the five cadets was a young girl about sixteen years old who sported a bob hairstyle with long bangs. The knights seemed quite open in their recruitment criteria, which I thought was a good move on their part. The cadets saluted Grenfell with a tap to the chest, addressing him with the reason for their arrival.
“Good day sir. Commander Karato sent us to help you set up camp. He apologises for not being able to meet you personally as he is currently engaged with military matters, but he promised that he will see you shortly. In the meanwhile, please tell us what to do and we will help you.”
My theory that the old man was tied to the military was reinforced when he saluted them back in the same way they did and replied to them with military styled words. Military curtesy didn’t expect civilians to salute military personnel and as such, the cadets didn’t expect me to salute to them either.
“Your team can set up our tent of operations, which is the largest object in our cart. When you’re finished with that, carry the furnace to the tent and I’ll instruct you where to place it.”
The old man sounded just like a drill sergeant in the army. They saluted again and started to unpack the cart, while we unpacked and setup the sleeping tent. I was particularly pleased the commander sent those five young cadets because it saved me a lot of work.
It was clear that many civilians supported the military camp of about five thousand troops. The sheer immensity of looking after that amount of military personnel made clear due to our proximity to the stores where we saw cart after loaded cart from Shimmerstal constantly offloading goods. The logistics for catering to such a large number of troops must have been immense. Yet five thousand troops were still small in the grander scheme of warfare, where it was possible for hundreds of thousands of troops to take part in a single battle. If the supply chain was insufficient, locals paid a heavy price as often troops pillaged the local’s food under the guise of volunteered goods. Even if the armed forces paid for the goods they took, it would be at rock bottom prices. Large wars between nations inevitably led to famine, normally brought about by countries sequestering their people’s winter stocks for feeding hungry troops. The alternative of letting thousands upon thousands of troops loose on the locals to find food would not bode well for the locals as often it would lead to the expedition becoming a treasure hunt where more than food was being taken by force. Many times, the local farmers would simply hand over the food without resistance, knowing they would starve in the future, simply to avoid edging the soldiers to search for more things. The irony of the situation was that sometimes a local army foraging session created far more damage to farmers than an enemy ever could.
To avoid situations like that, the kingdoms kept war troops numbers to a maximum of around fifty thousand. Limited population levels of the kingdom’s cities also restricted supply of manpower and troops.
“We’ve completed the work you requested us to do. If there's anything else, please don't hesitate to ask the commander.”
Heck no, I thought. Who said they could leave?