Chapter 102

Destination South Hill

Three Hills

The Lord of Three Hills treated Dame Daniella and Sterling as their guests and allowed them to stay in a guest house in the scenic part of the city. It had been almost a week, but the Lord of Three Hills still postponed their decision. The indecision was not expected, but not entirely surprising.

Fortunately, the envoy was allowed to conduct their business while waiting. Thus, Dame Daniella and Sterling had reviewed the city's bustling market for items Lord Lansius wished to procure.

Aside from grain which would come later after harvest, other foodstuff, and winter gear, the Lord also wished to purchase all kinds of backpacks for his army. His requirements were that the backpack should have two straps for each shoulder and a third to be tied around the waist. All the straps should be adjustable. The bag should be large enough to accommodate two helmet-sized objects and be capable of being securely tightened or closed.

As for the materials, there were no specific requirements. He accepted leather, canvas, or even woven baskets, as long as they fit his criteria.

Diligently, the two browsed the workshops and market, made purchases, and more often, ordered items to be tailored to their specifications. Throughout their negotiations, they were careful not to reveal the true quantity they were buying to prevent price increases.

Slowly but surely, the two amassed a considerable stockpile of goods, stored in the guest house and its stable. The Dame arranged for more storage space, and the guild readily rented her an empty warehouse.

Without wasting time, they began inspecting the building, as they had two cartloads of goods awaiting unloading.

"What do you think?" Dame Daniella asked Sterling beside her.

"Big double doors, wide enough for a cart. Brick walls, no holes, and not too damp. I think it's a good place," Sterling replied.

She nodded and motioned for her Nicopolan men to inspect. "Check the locks, attic, larder, and look for signs of rats," she instructed.

They nodded and proceeded. Her lieutenant returned and said, "We're going to need blankets. It's unsafe to leave a warehouse unguarded. Also better procure a cat."

Daniella agreed. "Yes, it would be shameful for all parties involved if our warehouse was compromised by vermin or thieves."

"Then I shall take three men and sleep here tonight. Is that arrangement satisfactory, Dame?" the lieutenant asked.

"No worries, I doubt the Lord of Three Hills intends any harm to me. However, our goods are another story. You should take more men from the guest house. "

Despite their caution, news had spread about a party stockpiling a significant amount of long-lasting food, winter gear, and bags, enough to supply a village. Although they were not worried about price increases after placing their order, they couldn't shake off the concern that this might attract thieves or other unsavory characters.

Sterling climbed into the cart to take a peek and said, "But these are just wool coats, boots, woolen foot wraps, and bags. I don't see them as highly valuable items."

Daniella looked at him, deciding to educate him. "There's a simple trick to make them valuable."

Sterling furrowed his brows. "A trick to make these valuable? Is that even possible?"

The lieutenant grinned, seeing the squire's confusion, and revealed, "It’s actually simple. Take enough and spoil the rest."

"Spoil the rest?" Sterling's eyes widened as he understood the implication.

Daniella explained, "Mercenaries deal with this kind of thing. Creating scarcity is a tactic. Once, a Nicopolan legion was ordered to burn a ripened field of barley, so those who stockpiled beer could sell it at higher prices."

Sterling looked disgusted, and the lieutenant patted his back. "You should learn as much as possible from us. The world isn't just about honor and duty. To truly protect your Lord, you must be prepared to face the dirty underbelly."

"The bigger the city, the higher the nobility and its rich merchants, the nastier it gets," Daniella added.

Sterling nodded thoughtfully. "Even as a squire, I realized that people also fight in underhanded ways."

"Such is the world," the lieutenant smiled wryly. "Now, with me stuck in here, please kindly escort the Dame back to the guest house. It's almost sundown."

"Nah, I'll stick around," Daniella declared. "Go gather some food, lanterns, and blankets for the night. I'll be here, keeping watch until you return."

The lieutenant chuckled lightly. "I only wish to take some of the old man's role, but I'll heed your command."

Daniella offered a grateful smile, yet gestured for him to hasten his preparations. He nodded and departed with another man, leaving her with Sterling and a few men.

"The old man?" Sterling asked after the lieutenant's departure.

Daniella looked at Sterling with a soft expression. "He was more than a friend... Not blood-related, but he raised and cared for me like a family. He passed away in Korimor, just before we set off on our march."

"My apology, Dame, and my condolences."

"Apology not required. He passed away peacefully a few nights after my knighthood ceremony. I hope he's at peace now, considering all he endured for my sake."

Sterling paused, choosing his words carefully. "Dame, these might seem like just comforting words, but as a squire and servant, I believe he was truly content to see you achieve knighthood and forge your own path."

Daniella nodded, her gaze drifting to the orange sunset nearing the high walls of Three Hills. "I've made many mistakes. How I wish I had heeded his advice more."

Sterling reflected quietly. Throughout his two years of service, he had encountered and observed many great individuals. Yet, behind their success and fame lay a trail of sacrifices and losses. Dame Daniella had mourned the loss of a father figure; Sir Hugo had delayed his marriage by another year; Sir Justin had been away from his children for two years; and perhaps most tragic, Cecile and Claire had lost their father.

As conflicts and turmoil persisted, both minor and significant sacrifices continued to be made. Sterling knew this all too well, having served alongside the late Sir Callahan and nearly made the ultimate sacrifice himself.

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"Dame, is it all worth it?" Sterling asked, his tone free of malice or judgment.

Daniella was piqued. "What is worth it?"

"The sacrifices we've made... Will peace really come to Lowlandia?"

The Dame offered a gentle smile. "Peace often comes at a steep price, but without it, there's only sorrow."

Sterling took her words to heart, valuing the insights of someone who had journeyed from noble birth through anonymity as a runaway, to a life as a mercenary, and finally to knighthood. Despite having known her only since the beginning of this march, he had grown to respect her unique perspective.

***

South Hills

At 51 years old, Gunther, the ruler of South Hill was still younger than the Lion of Lowlandia, yet his service in numerous campaigns for the Three Hills had left him scarred with wounds. These experiences did more than age him; they rendered him both vicious and brutal to those who opposed him.

Worse, two years ago, an old wound on his thigh became so painful that he needed crutches to walk. He turned to undiluted wine and small doses of poppy milk for relief, which led to emotional outbursts and sometimes even erratic decision-making.

Despite all this, Gunther still ruled with an iron hand, supported by his competent family who used their extended kin as knights and lieutenants to maintain their grip on power. However, there was no denying that the last campaign for Korelia was a grand fiasco and had become a challenge for his rule and prestige.

The coalition had been brokered by Lord Omin of Korimor to unite and repair relations with the Three Hills. Gunter had been a knight under Lord Jorge before he rebelled ten years ago. Officially, it was due to Jorge's incompetence, yet it was clear he seized the opportunity when entrusted with South Hill Castle.

Even in his old age, the Lord of South Hill felt no remorse. Gunther only intended to serve a worthy lord and would not say no to an opportunity. He had always lived by that creed.

But, as it turned out, Korelia wasn't an opportunity but a complete loss.

For weeks, only stragglers returned home. Out of almost two thousand, less than four hundred survived. The Great Plains had claimed their lives. Even for the natives, the vast expanse of the plains made it all too easy to become disoriented and perish from thirst.

The news came as a surprise, yet Gunther chose to ignore it. His indifference was not born out of foolishness, but from a deep-seated readiness to sacrifice them. He was rather pleased that his contingency plan, which involved sending only levies along with a hundred ambitious, non-blood-related officers, had proven useful.

Despite the huge loss, his smaller but competent men-at-arms were largely unscathed. Thus, he had little concern for external or internal threats. Not even the new acting Lord of Korelia's veiled threat of a Grand Alliance could sway his stance.

With his spies reporting that the Lord of Korelia was personally fighting in Korimor, he felt assured that South Hill would be safe for several more years. This would be enough time to build a significant force to deter sieges. For that, he needed to stockpile arms and supplies.

"Surely not even this Lansius can win battle after battle without replenishing his men and resources," Gunther muttered to himself as he walked through his fruit garden with the help of a crutch, a favored pastime.

"There," he pointed to a low-hanging fruit, its skin a vibrant mosaic of yellows and green. His servants promptly picked the succulent fruit for him, gently cleaning it in a bowl of water to reveal its glossy, sun-kissed surface. They then presented it on a silver platter.

Despite the pain, he forced himself to sit on the grass and let them place the tray beside him. He tasted the golden-yellow-fleshed fruit. It was sweet and aromatic. "It's a good fruit," he complimented the tree and its caretaker.

The caretaker bowed deeply, and the Lord motioned for the fruit to be shared among his guards and servants. While violent towards those who wronged him, he treated his servants with respect.

He was about to ask his servants for assistance to stand when the head guard appeared.

"What is it? You look bothered, and I don't like it," Gunter remarked.

"My Lord, there's a slight issue. I request permission to take some men and riders out."

"Explain," he said while still sitting on the grass.

"A small group of men is missing after inspecting a village to our north."

"Hmph, they probably indulged too much," he said, shifting his weight to the other leg to lessen the pain.

"It's been four nights, My Lord."

Gunther sighed, conceding, "Then it might be a prelude to a peasant rebellion."

"My Lord, I assure you, it's probably nothing."

"Then go and see it with your own eyes and report back. Take enough escort but don't mobilize the troops."

The head of the guard bowed and left, leaving the Lord to ponder the possibility of a peasant rebellion. "I've already lost so much, and now I might lose even more peasants," he lamented over the potential loss of productivity in his lands.

To him, peasants were too cunning for their own good. On multiple occasions, they were found slacking, failing to fulfill their end of the bargain. Left unsupervised, they would even harvest the best crops for themselves from the communal fields, leaving the lesser produce for the Lord.

Now, with the failed campaign resulting in fewer men to work the fields, he suspected the peasants would stir up trouble.

While Gunther could accept some loss in yield, the peasants prioritizing their land over his felt like an insult. Harvest was approaching, and the fields left late for harvesting would surely be infested with vermin, potentially wreaking havoc on the entire region. Sooner or later, he would need to discipline them again with an iron grip.

***

Lansius

The Lord of Korelia stood inside the spacious tent as the first light of dawn cast a soft glow across the landscape. He leaned over a copper basin filled with water. With caution, he cleaned his face using the cool water, the chill more than enough to wake him.

Audrey, already clad in her marching gear, entered the tent and watched him with an alert gaze.

"I'm awake, just give me a minute to dress," Lansius remarked, reaching for a cloth to dry his face.

Without waiting, the Baroness of Korimor approached and helped him dress.

"You don't have to—"

"All my life I've been a squire, and last I checked, I'm still your squire. You've made me a consort—"

"Wife," he corrected her.

Audrey smiled and continued, "Wife and Baroness, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't help you dress."

"Gratitude," he said warmly as she diligently made sure that he wore his arming jack properly underneath the traveling attire, with the belt fastened enough to make it comfortable but secure.

"There, all set. Now what's left is just the armor."

"I think we can still skip the armor today." Even this close to South Hill, they remained undetected by the enemy. Their decision to use the nomads' route instead of the normal one, combined with Lansius' clever use of disguised scouts, enabled them to gauge the enemy's reactions effectively. So far, there had been no abrupt military movements.

"I'll make sure Carla is ready with your cuirass. Although we've made it this far, the castle is just two days away."

Lansius nodded, while his senses were admiring his wife's gentle side.

"Anyway, Lans. Congratulations."

He squinted. "For what?"

"Well, I'm glad you're doing fine despite all the marching. This is the first time you've arrived somewhere without getting sick or becoming an annoyance."

He grinned at her direct honesty and quipped, "Then kiss me, or I'll become a major annoyance."

Audrey shook her head but drew him closer with both arms and kissed him without hesitation. Just then, Carla entered with her aide carrying breakfast. Seeing their masters, they quietly retreated.

"No, come back," Lansius instructed, half-chuckling. "It's just a morning kiss."

That small innocent event spread quickly through the camp. For their men, the behavior of their Lord and Lady was a reassuring sign that the campaign was progressing smoothly.

Despite the weariness from long marches, the bruises, and calluses on their feet, thousands of men surprisingly found some enjoyment in the march. There was dust and pesky horse flies, but the weather was generally pleasant. Moreover, seeing the yellowing crops from afar, they were content, knowing the answer to their plight might be just ahead.

...

"The question is, how should we approach this? Do we send an envoy to announce our arrival and make our demands?" Sir Harold asked as they convened after breakfast.

"Wouldn't that just squander the element of surprise?" Audrey remarked.

Lansius let out a satisfied smirk, pleased to see that the concept of surprise attack had become second nature to her.

Sir Harold chuckled. "Despite our past victories, it's actually against noble decorum."

Lansius decided to comment, "Last I heard, I'm seen as a barbaric foreigner and a Lord wannabe. So I might as well play the part."

The tall knight's chuckle grew louder.

Carla appeared in the tent doorway. "Urgent message from the forward scouts," she announced.

"I guess we've been discovered," Audrey commented, causing Carla to tense up.

"Let's not jump to conclusions. Please invite the messenger inside," Lansius instructed, without any hint of urgency.

Audrey was piqued by his uncharacteristic calmness. "Are you planning something?"

Lansius almost chuckled at the thought. "No, but what's there to fear? For the first time, we have numerical superiority. If they want to come," his tone turned serious, "let them."

***