Men are fickle creatures. Our hearts are easily swayed by moments of passion. Our skirmish against the Grossewald archers had earnt me something I had never had before. Respect. Not that I did not have any previously. I was respected a competent fighter. Someone who knew the right end of a sword and could be trusted to hold his ground. So long as things weren’t going catastrophically wrong. It was an acknowledgement that I was as good as the hundreds of other faceless carrion killers. Amongst the multitude of classes of fighting men, we freebooters were some of the worst. Simply put, we were thugs. There are freebooters everywhere in the world. Men for whatever reason who have taken up a life of arms yet failed to fit in. A freebooter is a mercenary without a company, a lone wolf. We were contemptuous of our betters and preyed on each other. There was no love lost within our ranks.

The men who fought in that skirmish were not a gaggle of sell swords. They were volunteers. I do not doubt that there were a few mercenaries and adventurers as well, but our time in Lord Cedric’s service had changed us. We were coming together as an army. My duel with Eric had cast a poor light on me as a respectable individual. If anything, I was a bully and a cheap thug. A single moment of bloodlust and courage was all that was needed to change their impressions.

We organized ourselves into five to ten men bands. It was our equivalent to a lance or squadron. It was an informal organization of men who shared their duties and supplies with. Since most of our fighting took the form of a shield wall, the band held little importance. What was important was the larger formation. The warband consisted of roughly a hundred men. They were units led by thegan’s or earls. A warband was the smallest unit on the battlefield. Lord Cedric had not organized nor attached officers to command us. The leadership of the lower ranks rose organically. Oskar was a known veteran and he had proven himself. There was talk of forming a warband around him. Other men had already started to cultivate their own followings. There were still enough uncommitted bands to form several new formations.

Oskar did not desire the command. But he was offered a pay incentive. I see that some of you are appalled by the slapdash nature of our forces. Fair enough. We as a people have always given more thought to our ships than to armies. On a warship there is one captain their word is law. But that alone is not an excuse. What is important to understand is that the Isles was fundamentally different. Men did not rule over another like in the south. Oh, we were far from the idealized republicans of the Old Empire. But there were certain ways we handled leadership. As a people, we are big on councils and votes. Lineage is often not enough to secure authority. It must be earnt in the eyes of the people you seek to lead. Hence why all our bailiffs and sheriffs are elected members of their communities. I digress. Let me tell you about a real army.

I have seen many armies in my time. Fought for half of them. Fought against the other half. Some were militias. Little better than an armed rabble. Others were handpicked men from pedigree lines. An army from the chivalric romances. I have even led men raised by my own hand. For all the I had seen and will see, the Kaisers own Leibstandarte is never far from my memory. Whatever may be said of the Reich they know how to make soldiers.

We successfully managed to link up with the Duke Artois. He was less than pleased with our tardiness. Still we made the march to the capital in good time. We were marched ragged by that point, but before us was the moment of we had all been working towards. The foreign honor guard camped outside the gates of the capital. In the morning we would be paraded through the streets of the great city. Despite our weariness, we made our preparations. Armor was buffed, cloaks repaired, weapons polished. We were going to do our job and do it well.

What can I say but that we performed as best as it could be expected of us? Oskar our newly minted warband leader led our file. The better equipped men marched on the edges of our formation. The less endowed stood within the column. We looked good in our black cloaks. Polished spear heads reached above us as we stepped to the beat of our comrades. We made a dour company. Jubilant crowds cheered our passing. Colored paper was thrown from windows. For the first time since our landing at Dusien, we felt like heroes.

Whatever their politics, I have found the people of Loueti an irrepressible lot. They would as easily celebrate a conquering enemy so long as they could celebrate. After all the hospitality we received from local partisans, this was a welcome change of pace. We were good. But the Free Cities contingent was better. Music and a riot of colors followed their procession. We made a fine contrast. Grim northern warriors and colorful southern professionals.

I never saw them myself. I was near the back of the parade. If we were martial procession, they were professional showmen. I am told that their horses positively pranced as they led the formation. At the head of our display was the Dukes’ honor guard. Ten highborn knights of the body followed by an additional thirty retainers and vassals. The Duke himself was resplendent. Back then plate harnesses were rare and bulky things. Duke Artois was armed in the traditional manner. A coat of plates and maile under a surcoat. His gauntlets and greaves were beautifully etched and inlaid with precious metals. Him appearing in armor at the head of a small army was a statement. A strong one at that if it wasn’t for the Leibstandarte.

From an adjacent street appeared another procession we had not expected. Imagine walking down a road meeting at an intersection that leads onto a larger thoroughfare. So far you are hemmed in by cheering masses. But without much warning you are suddenly side to side with giant metal men. They don’t so much as look at you but stare dead ahead. The have arrived just before your procession could hit the thoroughfare. Now you are waiting for their large column to pass before you. It was masterfully orchestrated. Synchronized footfalls cause the very cobbled streets to shake. Every man in that formation was clad from head to toe in good polished steel. Every single one of them is far broader and taller than you are. Their silence and discipline were terrifying.

That was my introduction to the Kaisers Life Guards. I was told that every potential recruit had to be at least six feet tall. A regulation dating from first founding. It is said that men of prodigious size were recruited in all sorts of ways to fill in the ranks. By Kaiser Herwrath time the regulation had been abandoned. That said, to me they all looked like highborn warriors. A good fraction of them were. They were at the head and rear of their procession. The vanguard and rearguard ranks were exclusively reserved for highborn knights. Still every man amongst them was a formidable warrior in their own right. Gods how I hated fighting them.

Directly contrasted to the Reich’s finest, we looked downright shabby. We had to wait on them to pass first. One moment I was elated at the cheers from crowd. The next I felt conscious be waiting on better men. At their head marched Sir Johannes Kesselring, the commander of the Leibstandarte contingent. A great man. We marched to the royal palace behind their formation. I would like to give my first impressions of the place. However, I was somewhere near the back of the line so all I saw was the tops of a few towers. Such is the life of the dog soldier. Even in the midst of great events, all we see is the back end of our comrades.

Oskar was ever the practical soul. When the day’s events over for us, he made a beeline for our billets. We were to be camped within the city this time. Of course, that didn’t mean that there were cozy barracks prepared for us. Oh no, there was no room for us there. Other retinues and retainers had already filled up those. Whilst we had been delayed on the march, the Radicals had been busy politicking. It was another score against the Duke. Instead what we got was a few tents to pitch in one of the many public gardens.

We were none too pleased with our new quarters. Neither was the Duke, but that was for different reasons. A compromise was reached. Our officers could seek lodgings in one of the many inns near their men. I had other plans. As far as I was concerned my time with the army was over. We got everybody to the city and had our little walk about. I was unconcerned about getting back to the Isles. I had no reason to stay. There was only Winston and my promise to see him home safe. That and my band had grown on me. I confess that they were probably the first group of real friends I ever had. My plans had me going back to Dusien. I thought I could find some work there with my preestablished connections. I was in no rush. I would stick by my friends until they made their way back. But that didn’t mean that I needed to be a part of the army for that. I would be a free agent hanging around them until then.

When I found Llain he was doing better than when I had left him. It seemed that the Free Cities forces and our own had come together. Our logistics had organically intertwined. There were some teething issues with the language barrier but both sides had stepped up remarkably. What wonders a little collective bleeding does eh? He was in the middle of allocating tents when I bought up my intentions to leave the host.

‘Are you sure?’ He asked. ‘Can you even leave?”

I shrugged as a way of reply. ‘I think I can. Didn’t we achieve all that we initially set out to do? I have no intentions to go back to the Isles so I might as well collect my money now. Beats living in a tent for who knows how long.’

He gave me a look. It was an unusual request. Not leaving before discharge was one of those unwritten rules of honor. But the fact was that there was looming fight ahead. Nothing more than an indeterminate wait then the march home. I suppose the most important factors were that I was one man and I was his friend.

‘Alright. Give me a moment. I’ll get your pay. Just don’t go around telling everybody you left early. I don’t want the headache of a mass walkout.”

‘Thanks, I won’t.’

I looked over the busy administrative hubbub and glanced over their papers. Seeing the theoretical masses of supplies being detailed made me think. I got a gut feeling that something was wrong. Maybe I could exploit it.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

‘Here.’ Llain put a heavy purse into my hands. ‘Don’t spend it all at once,’ he joked. ‘I don’t know what happened between you and Lord Cedric, but I for one am sad to see you go. How the blazes did you manage to handle all the social functions?”

I smiled at his shudder. ‘The secret of dealing with aristocrats is to smile. Nothing you can do about it. Anyway, I plan on being in the city for a while. Find me if you happen to need a purchasing agent. My band will know where to find me.’

So that was that. I collected my money and broke the news to the rest of my band. Nobody was particularly surprised other than Winston. They told me that I always seemed like I was ready to go. Every night left my bags packed and stowed. As if I was going to leave at any moment. I told them that I would be with them until they reached to coast. That shut Winston up for the moment. We would have words about it later.

With a healthy sum of funds, I found myself modest lodgings in the city. It was further than I would have liked from my friends, but I had no intention to be swindled out of my coin. All the nearby rooms were charging exorbitant rates. They knew that there was a killing to be made off foreign officers. Appearances are important. I found a pair of rooms up for rent above a draper shop. Now imagine a costal country boy with what seems to be all his life’s trappings. Speaks with an accent and you can make out what seems to be a sword under wraps. What the draper saw was a country bumpkin come to the city in the hopes of joining a knightly order. Probably a little naive and not very wealthy. We negotiated a very agreeable price. I think he started to suspect that he had been tricked when we shook hands. My missing finger spoke a different story. The spear and targe I hid out back probably gave it away. He was a good enough man to not bring it up after we shook on it.

There were several things on my mind as I unpacked. I had the room for a month and enough money to make my stay relatively comfortable. As an idle thought I considered trying my luck with a knightly order. Maybe they would be taking in new squires. I was a little old for the selections, but they could always take me as a man at arms. But that would mean that I would be bound to their services. It was a big decision to make without any foreknowledge.

Instead I decided to leave the heavy thinking for tomorrow. The afternoon was turning to dusk and I wanted to spend my first free evening for myself. Dressed in the beautifully tailored red coat I took some time to shave and neaten up. I had the money and the appearance of a gentlemen. That was more than enough of what was needed to pass as one.

Food was never much of a luxury I indulged in. I ate to live, unlike Marcus here. Still I was like any other man. I knew fine dining from a poor soldier’s slop. I had no vice I was particular to, so I opted for a luxury culinary experience. I found myself at a riverside cabaret packed to the brim with patrons. Back then a cabaret was a roadhouse that served prepared food and wine. Not the raucous theater houses of licentious repute they are nowadays. The restaurants of today are a modern appearance. Masters of the culinary arts served households rather than set up shop independently. The later purges of the nobility probably helped establish the restaurateur trade…

I had not the connections to dine at a club nor the inclination to frequent an alehouse. It was a busy establishment full of well to do merchants and minor worthies. The sort of place where people of money but little… prestige patronaged. That suit me fine. I could blend in as a visiting country squire enjoying his evening meal. And I did enjoy the meal. Not that I remember what it was. I enjoyed the convivial but genteel atmosphere. After finishing my main course, I was had a small coffee to settle the dinner. There was no rush to move on. I had nothing better to do. Maybe I would order a bottle of something to lubricate the passing of time.

‘Excuse me Sir, I am sorry to interrupt your coffee, but would you mind sharing your table with other diners?’ A waiter had approached my table with an apologetic expression. ‘I am afraid that all the others are occupied.’

It was not too imposed upon. This was a tavern in all respects. Just a better class of one. I nodded my assent and decided the coffee would be the end of my evening. Whatever desire to enjoy the night had been quashed by this intrusion. There was no rancor. I just did not feel like interacting with people. Abstaining was better for my purse and my health anyway.

The coffee was a new experience for me. It was fashionable to enjoy a cup with fruit or fortified wines at the end of a meal. The range of coffee I had enjoyed had been limited to variations with or without milk and sugar. There had been more exotic displays of wealth that included cinnamon or nutmeg, but it was only an accent to the already familiar formula. Served in a miniature thimble of a cup was a far more intense concoction. A variation of the drink introduced by the Free Cities. It was as if an entire cup of the more familiar drink had been… I digress.

An unusual couple arrived at my table. A young man and an older woman. I took no more than a cursory look at them before delivering polite but disinterested pleasantries. The man responded in kind and the woman gave an equally polite and reserved smile. Their conversation began quietly as if conscious of my presence. They probably were. My silent single-minded enjoyment of my beverage eventually emboldened them.

The man had spoken Auburn with a light eastern buzz. I had trouble placing the accent. However, when his conversation with his dining partner grew louder, I recognized the language. They were from the Reich. Which state I had no idea. My familiarity with the language was limited at best. The trade with Lunenburg during the boom years had been passed over for the more profitable market in Dusien. I watched them both from the corner of my eye. It was more out of mild curiosity than any aroused suspicion. Perhaps I had a voyeuristic streak. But I think that everybody has that strange fascination with the lives of others. Some philosopher said something about seeing our reflection through others. I am no scholar. Just a cynical old bastard with an ounce of self-awareness.

There was a certain family resemblance between both. Siblings? No, there was too much of an age gap. The woman had some cosmetic artifice. But I had been Janie student. If you knew where to look, the paints and powders could not cover everything. I believe I have just made an enemy of every woman in the world. Forget what is said. They were mother and son. It was in the little things that they did that gave it away. Some things you don’t need to understand the words to get. Whatever their topic was it eventually came to the subject of their shared dining guest. How could I tell? I knew enough words to pick up on some of their conversation. More importantly the mother was made a gesture with her left hand. She tapped it with some emphasis whilst saying something to her son. It is surprising how brazen foreigners can be if they believe you cannot understand them.

It was time to flag the waiter and end my stay. The company had lost its charm. I resolved that I should purchase a pair of gloves for such occasions. No gentleman went about missing his digits. A waiter arrived with my bill and I settled it.

‘I hope everything was to your satisfaction sir?’ He asked.

‘Yes.’ I answered. ‘Zu diesem kotelett usw, kann man nur hoheit sagen.’ The last part made the two other diners positively pale. ‘Guten appetit,’ I bade them.

Now I remember. I had a wonderful stuffed veal cutlet. Funny the things you can recall. The food had been far too rich for my stomach. I spent the next few hours doing nothing in my rented room. It was a while before I finally laid my head to rest.

An expected but not particularly welcome letter arrived at my lodgings in the morning. It represented an opportunity to turn a profit. The problem that could be exploited however was unwelcome news. Llain decided to take me up on my passing offer. He was finding it difficult to secure supplies at a reasonable rate. It was probably getting difficult securing supplies at all. I had spent my time since departing the forces camped out in several parks… discreetly gathering information. Though only a cursory investigation, I noticed that somebody somewhere was going out of their way to make life miserable for the Dukes supporters. Our lack of proper lodgings was only the tip of it.

I made no overt inquiries during my business. Some gossip here at a glover, a rumor there at a tavern. There were a few ideas on how to remedy the current predicament, but I needed to know the lay of the land. My paranoia was getting as bad as Oskar’s was. Soon I would be sleeping with knives under my pillow. I suppose having your worst suspicions consistently vindicated did not help matters.

Llain took the change from shield bearer to private steward impressively well. He had his own administrative tent. I never had one when I had his job. He frowned when I delivered my end of investigations.

‘I would like to think that this was just petty profiteering from the merchants end,’ he remarked.

‘There is probably an element of that,’ I accepted. ‘However, the current shortages are far too organized to be coincidental. Unless there is a city-wide monopoly held by a single merchants guild.’

‘Fair enough. But identifying our potential antagonists does nothing to solve our supply issues. We need to feed the men. If your suspicions are correct, our current antagonists would refuse to do business with you as well.’

I smiled at the euphemism. ‘Let us not speak in circles Llain. They incited violence against us, killed our men, shafted my friend, and now plan on starving us. I think they qualify as enemies. Threats. I have a temporary solution to the supply issue. A more long-term fix will need time and information.’

‘Money as well?’ Llain raised a single brow. I responded in kind. ‘Very well. I will need to think on it as well. Marcus, my counterpart, would probably be interested as well. While we wait, tell me about this short-term solution.’

It was nothing complicated, just like all the best plans are. Loueti was a busy cosmopolitan city. It saw business from a thousand different vendors. Countless numbers of foreign faces went in and out of the city. It would be a miracle if some agency had power over all the teeming commerce in the city. It was possible to boycott a large singular entity. Bulk food merchants narrowed the number of variables that needed to be controlled. A purchasing agent of an organization was easy to foil. It was near impossible to stop hundreds of individuals from going to a bakery to purchase three loaves. Nobody had the influence or the ability to micromanage every grocer, butcher, baker… you get my point.

Every band would be granted a stipend to purchase their own food. It was a relatively simple solution. Albeit a temporary one. Why hadn’t Llain come up with it? That was because the idea was anathema to his office. It promoted chaos and disorder. Soldiers were not always good with their money. What they should be spending on bread and bacon could easily be diverted to beer and gambling. Bulk purchases were cheaper as well. Whatever Lord Cedric’s funds were this could only be a temporary solution.

There were still some supplies left before we had to bleed the war funds. We needed a solution quick and fast. I had something in the back of my mind. Still, I was afraid of what further steps would be taken against us in retaliation. I expressed my concerns as much.

‘Frankly, Captain Faccini has expressed similar notions.’ Llain shrugged. ‘Privately, she ordered some earthworks done around our tents in the park. Her boys seem to have a contingent of proper sappers with them. Marcus had been mapping out the routes between the three parks. He has been preparing contingencies. I think the Lady is taking no chances and digging in. The mayor will not be happy with what we are doing to his flower gardens.’

That was her, the good old captain. If things looked bad, she dug in and prepared to make whoever came bleed. I was different. Half ideas floated in my mind. They included blood, fire, and silver. But that is a story for later.