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The Cassidia Saga
Book One, Chapter 7: A letter from home

Book One, Chapter 7: A letter from home

--- Roric

As the months passed, Roric put his all into learning from Tolwin and observing his job from up close.

He was grateful. So grateful. From the moment of their meeting, the old priest had been nice and willing to listen to all his problems. By staying at his side, the child discovered that Tolwin was not only a master in the healing arts but also possessed an exceptional talent for understanding others, and could take care of their bad mood just like their most intricate troubles. He was so patient and well-disposed towards the members of the company that Roric started wondering where the man found all the time and energy.

After a particularly gruesome training session with the others, the kid couldn't help but vent at the priest about his difficult relationship with Meran. Tolwin was clearly tired, still he gave him an ear and explained that the cruel recruit behaved that way for a reason. The reason was his past.

Meran had lost his parents at a young age and had been taken in by some relatives from a different village, on the shores of the Guhrien lake. The life of the young boy wasn't simple, with his new guardians. The people who should have been taking care of him never accepted the orphan of some distant cousins as a true member of their family. They were bound by a promise to offer Meran a shelter, in case he would ever need it, and as a result they saw him like nothing more than a debt to pay. So, when Lowan's company happened to pass near their town, those people simply kicked out the boy without thinking twice, telling him that for him it was time to earn his food by himself. He hadn't seen them ever since.

Hatred and cruelty came in many ways, as Roric learned. That sad orphan had been twisted, shifted into a person who couldn't live without disdaining others as well. Because of those despicable relatives, who had mistreated him when he was at his weakest, Meran had grown fearful and wary towards friends or foes. That was likely why he couldn't stand equally miserable and lonely kids just like Roric. Finally understanding the reasons behind his attitude, the child couldn't possibly be angry anymore and even felt sorry for him.

If only I had known... It's like Frauli and Demios said. We recruits all have our share of bad stories. Those two don't have memories of their families, but even without them it's clear that they chose this life for a reason, instead of finding a normal job. They want to become strong and start over, as well as me. And the same applies to Meran and Rata too.

Roric kept memorizing valuable lessons during the winter, in the temporary shelters built by the company near Telgham. The climate of the Republic was way less windy than in Spjaldir, and more temperate. It was the right place to spend the cold months without freezing to death.

The mercenaries had the permission to take all the wood they needed from the surrounding forests, and the castle even supplied them with food as part of the payment for that autumn's services. At the start of December, every man was well compensated with money by commander Lowan himself.

The recruits were the only exception, obviously. Since they weren't fully fledged fighters yet, they had no such right.

***

"Damn it! Will we ever stop being recruits? I can't wait to get paid!"

Demios complained for the umpteenth time that day. He did it so often, lately.

"You'll be paid when you stop whining, my friend," laughed Frauli, who was sitting at his side. "We fought once, but that doesn't mean we are ready. You should listen to old Ugrin, once in a while."

The recruits were fishing from a small stream, a few miles from Telgham. It was a warm late April morning and the rest of the mercenaries was once again running around, to fulfill the last contracts signed by the commander with the castle's Lord.

"You think I'm an idiot? I already asked the captain," yelled the other boy. "If you are that eager to get killed maybe I can speed up the process, he said. Is that even an answer?"

Careful not to shake his fishing rod too much, Roric commented, "That's typical of him. You had it coming, if you ask me. Questions like those seem to anger him."

"Well said, Roric!" agreed Frauli. "See, Demios? Even the small one is smarter than you on the matter. Maybe I hit you too hard the other day, and you became the stupid one. We should ask Tolwin for-"

"At least I wasn't born stupid like you," grumbled Demios, stretching on the grass. "Good grief, this is so boring."

"I don't understand you guys," said the child. "Why don't you simply be patient and wait for the captain to agree?"

The two boys turned towards him.

"It's only him who is impatient!" exclaimed the blond recruit.

"I'm not impatient!" replied the other one. "It's just... I joined because I wanted to fight. We are bound to get some experience, sooner or later, don't you think?"

"Sure, but... I don't think Ugrin wants to let us go yet," objected Roric. "You see how he treats us. There's no way he would be so stubborn if he didn't want to see us prepared."

They both shut their mouths. Since winter, the kid had taken the habit of stopping them when their arguing went too far. And he felt strangely satisfied when it actually worked.

Not that they'll stay silent for much. If I know them...

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As a matter of fact, after some minutes the two started a new banter session about fighting and who was better at it. Roric sighed and gazed at the horizon. The surrounding plains provided a gorgeous view, on that sunny day, and the weather was so clear that the southern mountains were almost completely visible. A lot had happened since the last time the child had last stopped to witness the beauty of the landscape. He felt a bit of nostalgia, remembering how things used to be before Spjaldir was raided.

That day had changed him substantially. Still, as the months passed by. his nightmares came less frequently and he had finally started to sleep well. The helpless child who had seen his village slaughtered before his very eyes was growing accustomed to the hardships of life. He still lacked progress, however. Despite training every day his improvement had been miserable and keeping the pace of the others was getting impossible.

Also, the way the rest of the recruits treated him during the training was depressing at times. Their movements became accurate but slow when they fought against the kid, allowing him to even prove himself on certain days, but the only effect was making him feel even weaker. Roric couldn't possibly know when or why they had decided to do so, especially because everyone praised him and denied having such an arrangement, but being able to see their attacks while still lacking the ability to react was the most frustrating thing in the world.

The child had tried telling Ugrin about it but the stern man had just accused him, saying he was looking for excuses for his incompetence, and all he had gotten out of those terrible performances was an even rougher treatment by the instructor. The only one who seemed unable to feel any pity towards Roric was Meran. His brutality and nastiness was so much to bear that even standing inside the ring with him was enough to freak the younger recruit out.

That was why he enjoyed spending the day fishing instead of training. With most of the mercenaries busy, everything the recruits had to do was helping with the chores at the camp, ensuring that it ran smoothly while the commander was away. The kid also had to assist Tolwin in the afternoon, but learning from the priest was always a pleasure despite the occasional disturbing view.

"Keep it straight," said Rata, as always without adding any particular tone. "Don't move. You scare fish."

Roric huffed and obeyed him. The son of Ekhar didn't talk often, but he clearly enjoyed his words being effective. Lately, he had begun practicing his bow skills on hay targets in his free time. Seeing that he was showing great promise in that field, Ugrin had tasked him with shooting a hundred arrows every day, a task he had accepted without even blinking. Specializing in a weapon or two, the captain had said, was a necessary choice for a recruit because it meant choosing a place in the company. The fact that Rata and the others had already made their decisions left Roric feeling even more distant from them. Still, he enjoyed watching the archer from the distance as he hit target after target, dreaming that one day he would have been strong enough to wield a bow as well.

At least I would be useful that way. I still can't lift anything heavier than a shortsword... And Ugrin doesn't want me to train with real blades until he's sure that I can handle them.

Yet, not all hope was lost. There were still many things he could do. He gulped, hoping not to be the one in charge of waking up Meran, who was sleeping on the other side of the stream, after they were done fishing.

***

--- Lowan

Leading a small group of horsemen, Lowan entered the encampment.

He and his men had spent the last few days patrolling the surrounding lands, in search of enemy survivors. The bandits they had massacred a week before were the last of a series of bounties that the Lord of Telgham had hired them for, and it was already clear that there was nothing left to do. To find more work, the company had to move.

The commander's idea on the matter was to get back to Guhrien and pay a visit to his friend the Duke. There was a distinct possibility that the city of granaries would have provided them with enough contracts to last the entire summer yet Lowan couldn't say to be happy, being a man who didn't like taking chances. Quite tired and in a bad mood, he rode back to his pavilion and one of his soldiers informed him that he had visitors.

Screw them. They'd better be here to talk business, or I'm kicking them out.

As he got inside the tent he found two people already waiting for him, a young knight accompanied by an even younger squire, both wearing upsettingly familiar colours.

"My Lord," the knight started, without wasting a single moment. "Your mercenaries told us that you were getting back. We are pleased to see that you have returned safe and sound."

His sugary voice, typical of those more accustomed to servitude rather than bravery, instantly got on Lowan's nerves. He washed his face in a bucket of fresh water and let the man go on.

"We came with an offer for your esteemed company," he continued, without even bothering to identify himself. "We rode for many days, from the distant lands of-"

"I know very well where you came from," interjected the commander. "I also know that the person holding your leash doesn't like to waste any time, not to mention making generous offers. So cut it short and state your business."

The young emissary gulped, and his squire gave him a worried look.

"We were... We were sent by your sister, countess Leanna of Sinen," he babbled, trying to get back on track. "There's a letter, written by Our Lady herself, that explains the situation in detail."

He took out a paper with a sigil that Lowan recognized.

My family.

Snatching the letter from the hand of the knight, who frowned at his sudden move, the commander sat down and began reading.

Dear brother,

Allow me to begin by saying that I'd never want to disturb you, unless the need was pressing.

You are the last person I'd like to see inside MY lands (which prosper under MY rule, while you keep yourself busy by wandering the land with your gang of merry comrades), but due to the terms of our old deal I have to inform you that the clans have again started moving. Soon enough, Ekhar will try another invasion.

Lowan froze, as memories of his past emerged.

We don't have enough soldiers to stop them, as you certainly know. You are a clever man and a skilled commander, so I'm sure that you are already aware of what I'm asking. Despite your tendency to worry too much about the fate of commoners, I admire your military skill. Our father would have been very proud of you, IF you had ever made use of your gift to bring honor and wealth to your family.

His sister also had a gift, the ability to strike his nerves. The man sighed and went on.

Because of this, I kindly ask of you to take your abovementioned companions and march your butt home, where a contract will be waiting. I know helping me bothers you, so we'll just treat it as business like we always do. Trust me, the feeling is mutual.

I'll generously pay your soldiers if you come and shield us against those dogs from the North. It is in the interest of both of us, since you desperately want to defend these peasants and I don't want to lose my castle.

Still, you are a grown up man. The choice is yours.

As always, with the deepest, unquestionable affection,

Your sister Leanna.

P.S. Hurry up, or there won't be anything left to protect.

The commander closed the letter, leaving it on his desk, and rubbed his eyes.

Leanna... That's a name I didn't want to hear today.

"My Lord?" the knight urged him. "Can I ask you what news I have to bring home?"

Lowan glared at the two guests standing inside his pavilion, making them shiver.

"Tell your mistress that I'll consider her offer. And one more thing before you go, for the sake of a future cooperation," he stood up once again, getting closer to them menacingly. "Sinen is not my home."

The two took a step back.

"Yes... Yes sir. Certainly, sir," babbled the emissary. "We'll depart at once. By your leave."

After they left, the commander spent many hours alone, in deep thought. His home was in danger, and was calling for help.