Chapter 64

Gerald and Arthur arrived at the cemetery behind the keep. At the gate, Gerald bowed slightly towards the entrance, while Arthur bowed deeply. Most of his ancestors were buried within, and all of them had a soul statue built in their honor. Only nobles had the luxury of burial in a place like this. Commoners mostly resorted to burning their dead in modest ceremonies.

After paying their respects at the entrance, they entered the burial grounds under the mild sun of afternoon. Gerald stepped on the slightly bright dirt, apparently mixed with something like sand. His gaze fell on the myriad of different statues spread around the grounds. Each depicting a mythical beast that represented the dead. In the honor of each head of House Tellus, a beast was sculpted to stand for their nature during their life.

Slowly, he began to traverse the passages lined by statues on both sides. Arthur made sure not to overstep him, but he was the one actually leading, since Gerald had never been here. He'd never visited his father before.

Flying wolves, monstrous snakes, fanged bulls, and other beasts adorned the grounds, each representing an ancestor's life. After passing by over two dozen statues, Arthur stopped and Gerald did the same. He saw his ministere gaze at the statue to his left with shaking lips and dazed eyes. Gerald turned to the statue and gazed at it. It was his father's.

His father's beast was a bird akin to a phoenix. Only, its head wasn't visible as its wings curled around its body, covering most of it including its head.

"That's what the sculptor made when we told him about your father's last years," Arthur muttered.

Gerald heard him gulp with painful difficulty.

Arthur continued, "I wish I could have told the sculptor about your father's years before the war. But the truth is," the old minister stifled the wetness that hovered over his eyes, "I could hardly remember him of back then. The memories get blurrier with each day, I reckon." He smiled wryly. "I wish he'd simply spoken to me during his last days." His gaze moved from the statue to Gerald. "Ah, forgive me. I've lost my bearings. I shall leave now."

"Fret not," Gerald said. "When Lucas arrives, send him to me right away."

Arthur nodded and headed back the way they'd come.

Gerald lowered himself into a sitting kneel and stared at the statue made from rough, grey stone. His eyes moved from above to below, finally resting on the small platform that carried the statue. On it, his father's name was written, Fulmen Tellus. The name he'd never uttered since he'd been taken from the Viscounty.

"It seems that I've underestimated that which weighed upon your shoulders, father," he said. "Yet I cannot forgive you." He grew silent, gnawing at his tongue. "We paid for your faults. And here we still pay."

A breeze came about, scattering some dust, but the well-set dirt stayed level around him. As his hair floated with the breeze and rested after it, his eyes sharpened. He stared at the wings that covered the phoenix's face. "You should have fought the world for us!" Gritting his teeth, he continued, "you were too weak . . . I won't be the same." His fists tightened, balled up above his knees. "I won't forgive you," he whispered. "But I won't forgive them either. There will come a day when I will bring back Lena, and then there will be a reckoning."

As he said the last words, he heard a boot stepping on the dirt behind him. He looked back and stared at Lucas with a side eye. The knight was in his steel armor, apparently bemused.

Feeling Gerald's stare, Lucas spoke. "I wish I could return to the Duchy and speak to the late Duke." He smiled. "I believe he watches over me and my men as we fulfill our duty to him. It was what kept me going at times." He shifted his eyes between Gerald and the statue.

"I don't need a delusion to keep me going," Gerald said after understanding the knight's implication.

"Oh, but we all do," Lucas maintained his smile. "It's our belief in that which is not real that keeps us going, your lordship. If we don't believe that there is something out there beyond our imagination, our hearts and minds would lose all hope, and our lives would soon follow."

Gerald didn't respond. He turned his eyes back to the statue, as if signing a silent pact with it. He breathed in and closed his eyes momentarily. Then he resolved himself to take it as slowly as was needed. "Your experience," he said. "Would it allow you to train two thousand men?"

Without his eyes actually witnessing it, he saw Lucas's quizzical tilt of head behind him.

"It would, but why, your lordship?" Lucas said, his voice trailing off at the end, as if he'd begun to realize what Gerald wanted of him.

"I will be sending word to Gasper," Gerald said. He looked back at the knight again, meeting his eye. "I will have him hand you his men. You are to train them. I want them soldiers instead of brigands within a few months."

Lucas frowned. "I believe I'm capable of it, but . . . "

"Worry not," Gerald chortled. "I will take care of Frederick. Your absence will make him only safer. People ask questions about you and the men you've brought. No one asks about my young squire. You can take your men and await Gasper in the fortress in the south."

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Lucas was silent, his lips pressed and his eyes venturing afar. He seemed to be wrestling with his hesitation. Then his eyes finally settled. He nodded. "I will do as you wish. moulding them into soldiers will not be hard, I believe."

"They will outnumber you two to one," Gerald said. "Are you certain you will be able to keep your hold on them without incident?"

Lucas snorted, his contempt unhidden. "Those rabble are the least of my worries. But we will need equipment and grain, your lordship."

"You shall get both. And you shall receive five thousand gold as well. My new soldiers will receive wages just like the old ones." If he wanted their loyalty, he would need to at least pay them.

Lucas nodded.

Soon, the knight left, and Gerald got to his feet and left the grounds. He met Arthur at the cemetery's gates. He told him to prepare the gold, goods, and equipment for Lucas.

"My lord," Arthur said, his face ashen. "Two thousand men, and one more thousand that are Lucas's men. That's three thousand more men for the Viscounty to support. The expenses are too much to bear."

"We have enough gold in the treasury for now, Arthur," Gerald said. "By next year, the basin's circumstances will be different. The refugees and the scorched forest we're cultivating are proof of that."

ß--------------------------------------------à

Gasper laid the letter on the table, his eyes falling on Master Rudolf who sat unmasked. "Should we move before dark today?"

Master Rudolf rubbed his chin for a moment then nodded. "It's better that we make haste."

Gasper couldn't help but let a smile creep onto his face. The letter had arrived at daybreak. The Viscount commanded them to lead the two thousand men to the southern fortress and leave them there for Lucas to train.

He would finally return to Ard and see his father after this. Perhaps the Viscount would also reward him? He wasn't certain, but he was glad to be rid of the brigand life.

It was still early before noon, and he had plenty of time to prepare his men.

He summoned Erick and commanded him to gather the men before noon. He needed to speak to them again. He would persuade them to fall under the command of Lucas without a commotion, so that they could be trained and paid. Otherwise, they could always fall under a blade for desertion.

..

Before noon, Erick had gathered the men in the middle of the camp like last time. Gasper walked out of his cabin to the same crowd that he'd roused before. He climbed to the top of the cabin again.

There was chatter among the men, which died down as he wandered above the cabin. They stared at him, awaiting his words.

Gasper took a breath then yelled, "rejoice, you fools! You will become the Viscount's soldiers."

There was a moment of utter silence. Perhaps they were contemplating if his announcement was actually a good thing or not, or perhaps they were simply in confusion. He cleared his throat then said, "The Viscount has commanded that you are to be trained under one of his knights." He cringed at the last word. He didn't know how Lucas was supposed to be the Viscount's knight. Had he decided to abandon his old oath and swear a new one that easily? He doubted it. "Since you'll be treated like soldiers, you should also be paid like soldiers. That's why the Viscount has already prepared for your wages to be paid during training."

Some faces brightened at the words. Others looked doubtful.

Unable to gain the response he'd hoped for, Gasper's mouth twitched. He sighed. "We move at noon. Prepare well. You'll see it yourselves." If he couldn't convince them that it was real, he would have to show them. Or Lucas would have to show them. His patience was at its limit. He would dump this horde at the fortress and return to Ard. Knowing that the Viscount was planning to take them as soldiers instead of dispersing them, or worse, was enough to satisfy him. He didn't have to worry about them any longer.

..

.

At noon, Gasper, Master Rudolf, and Erick led two thousand men towards the south. Circling around Ard, they headed to the fortress that had once been home to the Silver crew.

They arrived at the fortress by dusk when light still illuminated the sky.

Gasper spied the fortress from afar. He signaled for a stop then glanced at Erick. "Stay with the men." He rode ahead with Master Rudolf. As they galloped towards the forest, they saw two men riding out to meet them.

The distance between them soon shrank and Gasper saw that the two were Lucas and his lieutenant as he'd expected.

Gasper slowed his horse to a trot then came to a stop, and Master Rudolf followed similarly.

Lucas and his lieutenant also came to a stop.

They stared at each other for a few moments. Gasper was expressionless, and he stared at the icy faces of Lucas and his lieutenant. They didn't exude any friendliness. It was quite the odd standing they were now at. They had schemed against each other, and now fate had brought them to the same side.

Three wooden faces stared at each other, and one literally copper face didn't look at anyone in particular. Master Rudolf didn't seem affected by the tense air around him. He just gazed ahead as he always did.

Gasper's eyes met Lucas's, and their stares sharpened. They wrestled each other with their stares for a few moments, then Gasper couldn’t help but let out a stifled snigger. As if he'd triggered an avalanche, a suppressed chuckle came out of Lucas's lieutenant. Then a twitching smile appeared on the knight's face as well. His lieutenant couldn't hold it any longer and burst into laughter forcing Lucas to burst into laughter as well.

Gasper found himself guffawing like a drunk bear hunter. The three of them laughed like fools for a while then the laughter gradually died down.

"Erick will help you control the men," Gasper said as he gazed at his former enemy. "He has been my right hand for a long time. He knows most of the men in the crew, and he will make your task easier."

"You have my thanks."

Gasper nodded. After he signaled for Erick and the men to advance again, he watched as Lucas's lieutenant received them and began to lead them towards the fortress. There were already tents made around the fortress. It seemed that Lucas had prepared for the increase in numbers. The fortress might not be large enough for three thousand men after all.

He and Master Rudolf prepared to leave and Lucas saw them off. As he turned around, Gasper remembered a question that tugged at him. "Lucas."

"Yes?" Lucas who'd also half turned around with his horse looked back at him.

"How did you know?" Gasper asked. He wanted to know what had made Lucas suspicious. He knew that the knight understood his question.

Lucas chuckled. "You came out of nowhere. Nothing comes out of nowhere. Even the filth that were the chiefs each had their own history. You're the only one who had no history to boast. It's unlike a bandit chief not to boast about their bloody past. That made me suspicious."

"I see," Gasper nodded and pulled the reins to his horse, preparing to leave.

"And," Lucas continued.

Gasper stopped in his tracks and turned back again, throwing the knight a quizzical look.

"Your men were obviously all refugees. Any refugee that can craft as little as a chair leg is scooped by the nobles in the south," Lucas smirked at him. "When you offered to build the ladders for our assault, my suspicions were ascertained. Next time, think well before lying. Deception is hard work." After saying that, the knight turned his horse around and trotted towards the fortress.