> Queen Elsanne’s Forces & Allies
>
> Late 194 NC through 195 NC
>
> About 10570 (engineers excluded, Queen’s entourage excluded. Ruud’s entourage excluded. Militia and foreign Mercenaries included.)
>
>
>
> 4450 infantry (around 1000 fresh recruits included)
>
> 700 marines (Castalor/Scaldingport)
>
> Over 4000 crossbows
>
> 930 Men-at-arms (or mounted infantry)
>
> 490 Cavalry (trained Lancers, Knights)
>
>
>
> Castalor’s Army (Basten Van Oord)
>
> The Castalor Guards, about 350 soldiers and around 2000 of Castalor’s Winch Crossbows (1st and 2nd Divisions) plus 50 horse under Sir Walter Van Oord (west of Castalor and inside the city).
>
> Also over 2000 of Winch Crossbows (the 3rd and 4th divisions) under Desmond Boss stationed near Boar’s Horn River
>
> 200 Marines (with the ready to depart landing force) under Del Schalk, the late Deadmen’s Watch governor’s Albert Schalk first cousin that had insisted to take the job.
>
>
>
> Scaldingport (Ruud De Weer)
>
> The Duchy’s main army
>
> (East of Castalor, near Even Fork & on the road to Rusted)
>
> Under the command of ‘Viscount’ Ard De Moss of Rusted
>
> Scaldingport’s 1500 Old Spears under Captain Giel Kugel
>
> 450 Rangers under Mitch De Jaeger (Fort Tongue)
>
> 450 Men-at-arms (Old Crows) under Sir Stefan De Braal (Duke’s Shield)
>
> 500 Marines under Del Schalk (in Castalor, boarding the landing transports)
>
>
>
> Gust’s Desert Crows (Sir Gust De Weer)
>
> (Near Boar’s Horn)
>
> 680 Gray Cloaks (380 trained mounted infantry + 300 Old Spears) under Gel De Moss
>
> 120 Rangers (archers) under Lode De Jagger
>
> 90 Medium (Lancers) & Heavy Cavalry (Knights) under Sir Jan Reuten
>
> (Sir Wim Cramer, Axel ‘Mudriver’, Solt)
>
> 150 veteran Winch Crossbows (part of Struder’s Mercenary Company) under Captain Mads Struder (a nephew to the rich weapon’s merchant Wilhelm Struder, of Boss & Struder Industries. Both Desmond and Wilhelm run their own mercenary companies.)
>
>
>
>
>
> Forestfort’s Young Crows (Rik De Weer)
>
> (East of Castalor)
>
> 250 heavy Cavalry (Men-at-arms, lancers, Knights) under Sir Rik and Sir Adrian Hakker
>
>
>
> Gallant Dogs
>
> On a paid loan to Queen Elsanne Eikenaar
>
> Stationed at Even Fork
>
> Under Commandant Rollon Martel
>
> (With Crafton as 2nd and Wyncall as 3rd)
>
> 350 Old Dogs, medium infantry (Flavius Super, Lu Douc-Re)
>
> 250 Gold Contract, heavy infantry (Captain Nathaniel Wyncall, Bardo Masin)
>
> 400 Grunts medium infantry (Liko)
>
> 100 Engineers (plus war machines) under Ricard White, Rick Willian
>
>
>
> Badum’s old First Foot
>
> (Also ‘Eplas Foot’, Robert’s Own)
>
> Camped on the road to Rusted, near Even Fork
>
> 750 heavy spear infantry under Captains Madsen and Elhorst
>
> 100 Cavalry (Medium Lancers, Knights) Sir Leonel Koel, Baron Leonard’s (Tigerfall) son.
>
> Also joined by Sir Evert Pek (wed to Lady Siske, Sir Reinir Tellman’s daughter)
>
> 50 Engineers, under Damian Curt
>
> 550 fresh recruits
>
> (From Badum and Riverdor that rushed to join upon learning of Robert’s arrival)
>
>
>
> ----------------------------------------
>
> *Also around 400 Blood Raiders (Eikenport, Lord’s Burrow) with the Queen and 50 bodyguards under Sergeant-at-arms Fliers with the Duke, stationed at the Pavilion, near Hunter’s Cot and the Supply Camps.
>
> **This a spread out and fractured force still in the process of redeploying to tackle with the objectives of the coming summer.
>
> ***With the Queen giving birth during the winter, most offensive operations had stalled and the cities involved had trouble supplying the armies in the field despite Castalor now operating without problems.
>
> ****Lord Ruud was worried by Legatus Merenda’s activities at Eagle’s Nest and had traveled to Forestfort to make sure ‘an invading force doesn’t slip through the cracks masquerading as refugees and fuck us in our sleep!’ which was surprisingly astute considering what was to happen soon.
>
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
Prince Radin Radpour
The Insidious Bloodfang | Part Three
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
Act I
-What if you had to?-
Summer of 181 NC
The massive Sonzan Bridge’s mouth support pillars
East banks of Son-Zan River Delta
Ten kilometers from the port of Sidhyr (across the capital)
Coastal road leading to the Khan’s Boulevard junction that heads south to the Sidhyr city proper or northeast towards the city of Dinar.
During the Heir’s return
Radin stared back at the stopped carriages of the caravan blocking the road. He counted three carriages and ten covered wagons. Not a single camel amongst them, only mules and those hairy big-bodied, clumsy drawn-horses found in the north. But there were some exotic stallions in the mix as well, equally big, but those the Prince hadn’t seen before. It was the latter animals that had caught his attention.
“There’s that fool Kontar,” Nar Masud-Rum informed them riding near the prince’s horse and it brought a grin on Havor’s tanned face for he considered Nar the biggest fool of all. Radin twisted on the saddle and caught sight of the wiry skinny teenager returning, escorted by Havor’s handsome brother, Hajot Dhin-Awal.
“Found tracks leading to the water.” Kontar reported bowing his head.
“The river?” Radin queried sitting back on the saddle curious.
“The gravel beach right at the border my Lord. The bamboo groves,” Kontar replied, the desert teenager’s clothes covered in dirt, but we are all suffering from the same affliction, Radin thought.
“No one can approach there,” Hajot retorted angrily. “God damn liar! Speak the truth to the Prince, else we will leave you here!”
“I am milords,” Kontar protested turning pale in the face, as the only thing he owed where those dirty garbs.
“Great Hornets nest there in the summer,” Radin told Kontar patiently. “Millions of them. What you say isn’t possible.”
“It’s the truth. I saw her my Prince,” Kontar insisted risking it all.
Hmm.
“Bah,” Hajot grunted. “She dodged a meeting with the Khan to brave the canes? It makes no sense!”
It made no sense for Sahand to bring back a wife from Dan, whatever that place was, Radin decided. Not the fierce daughter of a warlord to pour fresh Forya-Rochir blood into the royal bloodline and strengthen it, but a total stranger.
What so special about you then?
“Where in the grove?” Radin asked pressing his knees to force his horse forward. He was supposed to travel across the desert as he couldn’t postpone it anymore. The prince knew he would find more freedom east of Eplas.
“Prince Radin,” Nar Masud-Rum intervened. “There’s no reason to risk it!”
Radin stared at him with pity. “Avoid risk and you might never lose something,” he retorted. “But don’t expect to win anything worth of note also. Else Atpa would have won the hunt but he didn’t. Nout did and now people call him the 'Gold Leopard'. Sahand could have stayed in the capital, but he didn’t. Won a war and another wife instead.”
An hour later
North Sidhyr Bamboo Grove edges
A remote beach facing the Khanate Gulf
Radin stopped his horse and climbed down from the saddle. He gave Nar the reins and signaled for him to stay with the animals. He could see the two young girls playing near the waters. Their tanned skin, rich black hair and softly-slanted eyes marking them as Cofols. The Prince examined the muddy stems infesting the beach for anyone else and made to approach them, but paused with a frown and turned around.
You never know.
Nar had gotten his warspear out. He tossed it to the Prince who caught it and span it around his back once, getting a grin out of his friend. Radin walked confidently on the tiny pebbles, keeping his eyes on the two giggling girls. One of them had a horrific scar that covered her whole back as if she had been half-skinned at some point.
What manner of cruel owner would do this? He wondered in disgust and faltered when the other girl turned her head noticing him. Radin heard rustling coming from the grove and saw out of the corner of his eye movement amidst the dancing bamboos.
“It’s not safe,” the prince told the staring girl that didn’t bother to cover up her nudity. The girls were obviously sisters. One of them more hostile than the other that was more guarded. They looked around twelve years old and from up close he could see markings and bruises on their young fit bodies. “Are you with the caravan?”
“Are you a bandit?” The hostile girl asked in rusty Common. “Soon, you will die.”
What?
“I’m a Prince of Rin An-Pur! You brazen wench!” Radin snapped, the insult cutting him deep. He was dirty from the road but that was no excuse. He heard more rustling coming from the Grove and voices, at least two more people walking towards the beach. “Who’s there? Show yourself!”
“How many princes are there?” The second girl asked curious, standing behind her sister.
Eh?
“You don’t know…?” Radin retorted and then two more females came out of the bamboos. Taller, Cofol-looking, much older and both stunningly beautiful.
Damn.
The Prince blinked not expecting the newcomers.
“Zestari, Selussa,” the prettier of the two women said in a motherly voice. “Put some garbs on.” She almost chanted the second part and then turned to look at him. “The young prince,” the woman said perceptively, her voice changing to a low-purring seductive tone.
She sucked all the aggression out of him in an instant.
Also, it wasn’t a query.
Radin licked his dry lips unsure. He’d seen his share of comely females now in his sixteenth year, both in the palace and in the pleasure houses of Rin An-Pur. But there was something about her that it made his skin tingle and his heart race erratically.
Radin could feel, smell and taste the woman despite her standing about six meters away.
“This is Lana,” the woman said introducing her other friend. “I’m Lenar.”
“Call me Zil,” Lana offered with a sweet smile and Radin found himself getting drawn to her as well strangely.
“Stand back,” he grunted in a shaky voice, trying to find his wits and feeling his knees weakening. “Who are you people?”
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Lenar raised a thin black brow in a quizzing manner. Radin realized there was no breeze all of sudden, no buzzing of any insects flying about, despite seeing a meter tall nest covered with giant hornets hanging from a thick bamboo not three meters away.
“We are from Neil-Dan,” Lana explained and Zestari snorted mockingly to her words.
Ah. Radin thought realizing he’d found Prince Sahand’s spouse. What manner of wayward female travels unescorted? He wondered still in a state shock and feeling a strange chill raising the hairs on his nape glanced right and then left about them, afore recoiling in alarm. A tall, gaunt and dark-skinned male, clad in leather, had sprouted out of the gravel seemingly not a meter from him. A somber long face, sporting maimed ears, under a shaven skull and ashen-colored, brow-less cold eyes.
A freak with a murderer’s face.
“What the fuck!” A bewildered Nar was heard reacting from the distance and Radin instinctively took a half-step back, turned his torso and swung with his warspear to decapitate the intruder.
“Don’t,” Lenar warned, but she wasn’t talking to Radin.
The newcomer ducked under the warspear lithely, Radin span the long weapon, changed his grip on the shaft, simultaneously placing his other hand on it as well and then swung again to cut the looking-affronted creature across the face.
The intruder caught the shaft mid-move instead and stopped it, despite the force behind the blow.
“Ralnor,” Lenar hissed and the freak grimaced, seeming even more annoyed. Then he closed his fist and Radin heard the hardened wood snap and break, the top part of the spear dropping between them.
It hit the gravel with a clanging sound and Ralnor let go of the shaft, with Radin holding on to what was left of it faltering backwards, in order to unsheathe what looked like an ancient-looking type of weapon, Radin had only observed in the arenas. A Hoplite Kopis front-curving sword.
“I don’t wish to fight,” the rattled Radin told the now armed newcomer and took another step back.
“Say that you had to,” Ralnor crackled in a gravelly voice that held not an ounce of sympathy. “What would you do boy?”
“Find another weapon?” Radin croaked unsure and the freak retorted without missing a beat.
“What’s wrong with the one you got there?”
-
Act II
-The others he must fight for-
Riverdor, summer of 188 NC
The Princess Tournament
Tobro went to check on his horse inside the stable while a thoughtful Radin watched from the doors. He could see the knights gathering at the tourney grounds, the city’s markets full of visitors. As many Lorians as Issirs inside the large walled city.
This isn’t going to work for me, he thought pensively, having that growing feeling that things were kept moving in the wrong direction despite his efforts.
“What did the High King decide? Any word? It’s been weeks,” Hajot asked coming out of the tavern, followed by Masud-Rum and two more low-born Cataphracts. Malik of Torbal and Garai of Yin Xi-Yan. Amu, Karu and Paari their servants heading inside the stable to get the horses. Radin heard them speak with Tobro through the open doors.
“Remember that they almost laughed in my face,” Radin replied returning the austere stare of an Issir woman that seemed to find offence in their painted faces as well. “But they did it politely, I suppose. They think we’re depraved savages Hajot.”
“Curse them,” Hajot grunted and Nar grimaced a little worried.
“Now what my Prince?” He asked Radin. “How long do we wait here?”
I’m not leaving empty handed.
“They were never going to take our word on such a serious matter,” Radin replied with a taunting smile at the Uher-fearing woman who hissed, made a circle over her head and moved away. “They’ll wait to hear from the Duke of Raoz.”
“Will they?” Hajot asked watching the groups of men around the nobles that had come to train at the arena grounds.
“She put the girls on the task,” Radin murmured thoughtfully trying to hear the herald’s words. The colorfully dressed man had just arrived from the market and seeing people gathered, immediately started reading the news from a gigantic scroll.
All part of the act probably.
“You think they’ll do the job Sahand’s traitor warned us to take care?” Hajot asked in mild disbelief with a glance at Nar Masud-Rum who was the only one that had met Sahand’s fabled consort’s whole group of followers other than Radin of course. “These girls?”
“They will. Reeves is a dead man walking. He’ll never see Jelin again,” Radin replied, trying to hear what the herald was saying. “I pity him.”
“I don’t know,” Hajot argued furrowing his brows.
“You would, had you known the girls tutor,” Radin said absentmindedly. “As well as I do.”
“I’ve seen him walk into a tree’s shadow,” Nar added ominously. “And disappear. He’s no man but an evil djinn.”
Yeah. That’s close enough.
“Where does that leave us? Will they give an answer?” Hajot asked pursing his mouth.
“Not unless they are cornered.” Radin replied and waved for him to stay his tongue so he could listen to the herald’s words.
“Never have greater knights assembled in a city. So many champions!” The herald boomed under the taunts of some of the nobles and the mirthful crowd watching. Mostly in agreement though, Radin noticed. “The De Weers, both Alden champions, the Holt and the Van Oord. The Crull and the Van Durren. A Davenport and a Riveras! Bloody Tiger is here out of fucking retirement! The other undefeated tiger, brave Sir Ralph Alden! The tenacious Crow Sir Rik and there’s still hope the Raven of Dawn himself shall arrive! Sir Graceful, Paris Riveras and Sir Heracles Davenport, the ‘Tall knight of the Desert’. Sir Rupert Holt, the ‘Stout’. Sir Antony Valens. Sir Maas Hoff, the ‘Knight of Crabs’ and Sir Thor Est Ravn. Sir Reggy and Sir Hein Crull…”
“Ugh,” Hajot grunted seeing the prince listening to the herald’s words. “What do they know of duels my Lord? A duel is fought to the death.”
“Not always,” Radin replied and eyed the faces of the unknown nobles listening to the herald with smiles. “But it often does.”
“Who can blame them?” The herald jested with a shrug. “No fairer lady than her exists surely. Lady ‘Jade Eyes’ herself. The late King’s jewels, hah-ha! Hear me out! No greater prize to fight over in a noble manner! Some will fight for the honors. Others driven from romance! I won’t begrudge either for sure! By the Allgods, if I could still pick up a spear, I would have participated as well and tell my wife later!”
“You are not a knight Leroy!” Someone yelled from the crowd amidst riotous laughter.
“I came close once,” Leroy argued with a miffed smile, squinting his eyes to see who had intervened before he’d a chance to finish.
“In your dreams!”
“A carnival. Bah,” Hajot retorted. Radin nodded thoughtfully.
“One wife a prince is offered as tribute,” he told Hajot.
“You got a nice one in Vynia,” Nar agreed with a stupid grin.
“The others a Horselord must fight for,” Radin continued with a glance at Masud-Rum’s face. “Else he’ll end up like Atpa and fuck his slaves, whilst romancing whores.”
“Hah-ha,” Hajot guffawed at the mention of the cautious Prince.
“Nout hasn’t gotten another wife as well,” Nar argued, himself unmarried but eagerly open to offers, preferably from maidens with a large dowry to sustain his career.
“Nout has no need for another wife,” Radin replied. His brother had married one of the richest girls in the Khanate and he’d the gilded Lord Toka as his father in law. Whatever elaborate plans Prince Nout hatched in his fruitful mind, the Toka family could finance with ease. “The Lord of Jade Lake does. Dia is just a big village.”
Hajot turned to look at him surprised and a little hurt.
“Don’t take offence. They send us here to fail and receive the humiliation intended for the Prince Heir. For my Father.” Radin explained. “They’ll use this offence that will forever stain my honor to fuel their plans and bring glory to their names. None of that glory shall be bestowed upon us friends.”
Upon me.
“Prince Radin,” Hajot Dhin-Awal rustled. “What are you saying?”
“We need to… force ourselves into their plans somehow.”
The prince paused when the Horse-Archer Kontar followed by a sullen Issir official appeared on their horses. The man Radin remembered from the meeting with King Antoon a couple of weeks back. The Baron of Colle, Lord Bach. A Priest of Oras. The King’s Master of Silence.
“The Duke’s messenger didn’t make it,” Radin said quickly and cracked his neck right and then left. “Let’s see what this dark snake wants.”
Radin was going to surprise Antoon’s palace creature. Turn their world upside down and force them in a direction they hadn’t considered venturing previously.
Will they fight, if they had to?
-
image [https://i.postimg.cc/Hpcv2TQL/Castalor-Radin-arc-v2.png]
Act III
-One and the same-
Nidar, his name meaning the ‘Daring’ in the old Steppe Tongue, was playing with his sculpted in ivory toy horses. A good sign, I suppose. Radin thought watching the small prince rolling on the thick carpet inside the Eikenaar Tower.
“If Prince Atpa fails to produce a legitimate heir,” Vynia repeated from her spot with a glance at the pregnant Loes. “Nidar is first in line for the throne. Nout’s girl has no chance.”
“Not without me as Khan,” Radin told her casually. “Atpa won’t play by the rules wife. This game I know very well. All princes know it since their youths. No Horselord ever took the throne without a challenge to his claim. It is not the way. We are brothers, but we are also Princes of Rin An-Pur. We are expected to fight to survive.”
He looked at Vynia’s gloomy face. The loss of her family was a hard blow to the young woman and she had seen Nidar’s arrival as a sign from the gods. “You are a traitor’s kin wife. It stains Nidar’s blood but fear not, for I intend to wash it all away.”
“Atpa controls the capital.”
“If the Khan wins, then I’ll have the bigger army and the inclination to act.” Radin explained. “Lands and riches. Fresh manpower, even allies.”
“Elsanne hates you.” Vynia reminded him. “Never accepted your authority.”
“The little Issir bird has you fooled.” Radin replied with a grimace of annoyance. “Women of Jelin worth even less than slaves. What did she know that you didn’t? She was given away. They are using her as a prop, none of this is her own idea. Jasi got into her head and someone helped her for other reasons.”
“What reasons?”
Radin stared at Loes. “There was always another rival in Burzin’s court working towards their own plan. They freed Elsanne to help themselves.”
“That Aken serves Burzin for decades now. The witch is dead. Why would she ever turn on you?” Vynia hissed but there was a lot of fear in her voice.
“Selussa assisted Elsanne. She couldn’t have gotten away otherwise,” Radin said hoarsely. “There is a King beyond the Pale Mountains. A Zilan Monarch. The Witch’s interests shifted closer to her black heart’s desires, which I guess were always to be with her own people.”
“Sahand’s spouse was a Zilan?” Vynia croaked sounding terrified. “I thought she was just evil.”
“One and the same,” Radin retorted staring at a portrait of Reinut the Great. The king’s eyes painted amber under the wild white hair framing his dark-skinned and covered with scars sinister face.
The artist had painted a nasty smirk on the long dead thug’s crooked mouth.
----------------------------------------
A songbird had woken the Prince, interrupting his dreams. He heard its chirping and the fluttering of small wings. The brief splash on the river’s surface escaping the ruckus of the many nearby falls somehow. Thoroughly soaked, moss-covered trunks and ground all about him, even the large rocks hidden under that soft green blanket and drown in the strong humidity.
Radin shifted his legs and stood up. Tobro who was tending to the prince's horse with Amu noticed him and approached. A much older Tobro and Amu, who was still Masud-Rum’s servant many years later. Paari was still serving Garai of Yin Xi-Yan, but Karu had been killed alongside Malik of Torbal during Kobus Bakema’s and the Crimson Band’s ambush right after the tourney.
Hajot had fallen to the Horselord Kalac on the return trip and Havor, his brother, no more than ten days earlier somewhere near Kaltha’s Great Lakes. Nar Masud-Rum and Kontar were still around somehow, especially the latter. Kontar had found his way back to the prince’s army, preferring to take his chances with Radin than facing the Khan’s wrath.
The predictable opponent gets defeated sooner or later, Ralnor used to preach with each cruel blow or cut. Lenar’s right hand creature had never landed a restrained blow or one that wouldn’t have potentially outright killed him. He would let Lenar patch up or revive Radin with her potions afterwards, but Radin always returned for another try. The prince’s pride not allowing him to admit defeat against that sadist. The witch’s singsong words swirling in his head during their agonizing recuperating sessions after each attempt.
‘To defeat Dar Eherdir, thou mustn’t fear death, for he doesn’t. You could trick him briefly but such an opponent will always come back after shoving death away.’
“Kontar looked like shit,” the hardened Cataphract Garai of Yin Xi-Yan rustled coming to stand on a moss-covered rock next to the pondering Prince that slowly put his armour on with the help of the servants. Garai was a ‘lance for hire’. He had fought with Prince Sahand against the Forya Rochi in the North, stayed near his brother for the invasion of Raoz and had returned to help Radin against Robert Van Durren at Tirifort. “He said Havor Dhin-Awal was forced to give battle against his wishes. Jorah didn’t take it very well.”
“You think the old Lord might challenge Burzin?” Radin asked wearing his long gloves.
“He might challenge you. You both took a son from him,” Garai retorted with a grimace and spat down. “Will the horses make it across?” He asked changing the subject.
“A horse can travel all terrains if guided carefully,” Radin droned and the Cataphract grunted unhappy.
“What about Amir-Zeket and the others?”
The silent Radin went to check on the saddle but paused there holding the leather straps to look at Garai. “A ruse works if something bigger occupies the mind.”
“That’s a lot of ruses,” Garai commented wryly. “Nar Masud-Rum seems confused and Tobro smells nice… Huh? Heard you suck cock lad. Is that true? I’m talking to you slave.”
Tobro glared at the smirking Horselord.
“Torment your own slaves Garai,” Radin warned. “Lord Putra attacked and Mirpur will head for that bridge. Everyone will turn their attention there. Amir-Zeket might succeed or he might have to do it the hard way. Lord Jorah Dhin-Awal will back him up.”
Radin climbed on the saddle and took the reins from Tobro.
“What about us?”
“This is not a ruse,” Radin replied calmly, despite feeling the tension of the coming attempt. A win here would bring the throne to him. Never such a feat had been accomplished. People shall speak of Radin’s triumphs for a thousand years. “It’s reading the terrain and maneuver to where you’re least expected.”
“Mirpur will expect assistance,” Garai noted.
“Um. The Desert’s Spirits shall provide whatever they can,” Radin said repeating a known saying of the Great Steppe, his manner nebulous. “But Mirpur might have to do the rest.”
-
> Early morning of the 3rd of Tertius
>
> Encamped Castalor’s Army
>
> 3rd and 4th Winch Crossbows Divisions
>
> Boar’s Horn River
>
>
>
>
>
> “Gods darn bugs!” Desmond Boss cursed snapping his arm to swat a large brown bull cricket away that had almost driven him mad with its incessant chirping. “First couple of days of good weather and this happens!”
>
> “Father you should make an announcement,” his son Mathieu repeated, already fully wake and energized much as younger folk tend to be. Desmond had another son Adrian, but the lad was more inclined in running the factory back in Castalor than running around with the company. Well, these were Duke Basten Van Oord’s men, but Desmond paid them enough coin for training and weapons, not to mention taxes to the city, so he got to lead them. His partner Wilhelm Struder, a much more frugal man, kept a small private company instead and had his nephew Mads Struder taking the odd jobs to get his coin back. Of course Mads had followed the Raven in Eplas, brought the Queen back and that had given old Wilhelm an undeserving boost in popularity.
>
> “I’m working on it Mathieu,” he told his son and stepped outside his tent to get a taste of the morning sun. “The Queen had her heir, it’s a joyous occasion but happy troops eat more and are restless.”
>
> “You sound like Wilhelm,” Mathieu said stepping outside the tent as well. The large camp extending on both sides of the road to Boar Horn River. The latter and its bridge visible at the distance. They had to move the camp away from the river’s banks during the winter as humidity had killed more men than the Horselords in a few short months.
>
> Sick men also cost a lot of coin since they want to get better obviously.
>
> “This war will either bankrupt us or make us a fortune,” Desmond mused squinting his eyes to watch an exchange between a sergeant and an approaching rider about a hundred meters away. “Depending on who is left standing in the end.”
>
> “The Queen of course,” Mathieu replied with a smile.
>
> Yeah.
>
> “What is it Mikel?” Desmond asked one of his aides that approached to report on the exchange.
>
> “The 2nd Foot,” Lieutenant Mikel reported. “Captain Voges and the 4th Division.”
>
> Desmond furrowed his brows. “They are here?”
>
> “About to cross the bridge. They made it out apparently.”
>
> “The man perished with Sir Mark Est Ravn!” Desmond snapped in deep disbelief. “Are you sure?”
>
> “Everyone said that. But that’s him apparently. The sergeant recognized… he is certain.” Mikel pursed his mouth as if there was something more.
>
> “The Khan lost control of Colle?” Mathieu queried curious and came to stand next to his father. More and more soldiers were coming out of their tents to watch the men gathering across the river.
>
> “The banners?” Desmond asked a soldier holding a spyglass.
>
> “They are correct mister Boss,” the man replied.
>
> “You think the Legion pushed them back?” Mathieu asked as they had rumors of a great defeat suffered by the Khan’s army at Eagle’s Nest.
>
> “Where was a whole division hiding?” Desmond grunted and glanced at lieutenant Mikel. “Speak up son. You seem troubled,” he urged him just as the first rows of soldiers dressed in Issir armour and colors started marching over the bridge. More waiting to cross. Many more. That’s more than a division Desmond thought just as Mikel replied sounding uneasy.
>
> “Sergeant Hooftman owed him money. Voges had paid for a custom winch crossbow, ten gold pieces ayup, but the sergeant kept it for himself given the call to arms,” Mikel explained and glanced at his commander. “They are both from Deadmen’s Watch.”
>
> “Right. Out with it! So what?” Desmond grunted and grabbed the spyglass from the soldier to better observe the mass of soldiers crossing the bridge.
>
> “He never returned the coin sir and Captain Voges didn’t remember it,” Mikel elucidated.
>
> “He was probably confused,” Mathieu offered and Desmond smacked his lips as something was wrong with the 4th Division’s troops. They were missing a lot of equipment for starters or carried different weapons but he could forgive them that.
>
> God darn varmints! He cursed barely hearing Mikel’s reply.
>
> “That’s what Voges said and then asked Hooftman for either the coin or the horse back sir,” Mikel replied and Desmond lowered the spyglass with a stunned expression on his face.
>
> There were barely any Issirs amidst the supposed 2nd Foot’s 4th Division’s marching troops.
>
> As a matter of fact, most of the men looked like Khanate’s soldiers.
>
> “TO ARMS!” A sergeant of the 3rd Division called spotting the same thing and Desmond heard the sound of cavalry horns from across the river.
>
>