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The Mercenary Path
A little bit of Magic were none should exist

A little bit of Magic were none should exist

It took longer for Private Ian Young to return than I was expecting but that was ok as it allowed me to search the enemy scout's body. I found five silver coins, a silver ring, some hardtack, a serviceable sword, two throwing daggers and a set of written orders.

The scout who was apparently named Benjamin Wright had received them from Sir Walter Babbingcock’s Marshal, a man by the name of Frederick Handel. He was instructed to join up with a small team from the Bloody Clock Mercenary Company and help them capture as many of the retreating members of my company as possible. He had been offered a bonus payment for every one of us he helped secure and ordered not to return for two days or until ten individuals had been so secured.

Private Young returned just as I had finished reading these orders and before he could open his mouth I handed them over to him with the two daggers.

“Have a read at that and tell me what you think?”

After securing the two daggers on his person Ian had a quick look at the orders.

“Well, it doesn’t really provide us with anything new other than the deadline for their activities.”

“I know so anything to report?”

“Sorry I took so long but I actually had to relieve myself.”

“Well if you are finished then lead on.”

It took us a good ten minutes to reach the site where Ian had left the other two with the horses and I was relieved to see they were still there and had even managed to gather another member of the company. Private Richard Barncastle was his name and he had joined the company shortly after I had, just short of two meters in height he was the tallest person I had ever set my eyes upon and not the greatest of riders when he had first joined up. The Captain recognising my accomplishments in that area had ordered me to help him with it. Since then with my help, he had managed to become a competent horseman and my best friend.

At twenty-five, he was one year older than me and the bastard son of some lord somewhere whose name he never mentioned. His mother had been the married daughter of a dairy farmer in his father's lands with whom he had a brief dalliance. He had been raised on that farm until the age of fourteen when the system had integrated with him. Before then it had been assumed the husband had been Richard's father but his gaining the bastard title had changed all that.

While it isn’t a common occurrence it does occasionally occur and on such occasions, those involved usually do one of two things, keep it quiet or try and take advantage of it and Richards's family had taken the latter option and unfortunately paid the price for having done so. Richard was taken away from them, they were stripped of their farm, kicked out of the lordship and left destitute. He later found out they managed to survive in reduced circumstances three lordships over.

As for Richard well his father had been married for thirty years and already had three sons, a daughter and another bastard to boot. He wasn’t in any way interested in forming any kind of relationship with another and so he packed him off to a faraway school aimed at teaching the bastards of lords. It could have been worse he was left alive after all but he didn’t have that great of an experience there.

Four years later he was kicked out and forced to make his own way in the world with training in arms, a basic education and being told to forget about ever contacting either side of his family again. He had eventually found employment as a guard in a large independent town just a few days' travel away from the beginning of the Endless Steppes in the East of the lands once ruled by the Great Majestic Imperium.

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While it is true that none of the vast number of tribes that make up the riders of the endless steppes attack settlements outside of it these days it has not always been the case. Nor does that preclude attacks from groups of tribesmen made up of exiles or criminals posing as tribesmen.

One such attack occurred a year before Richard joined the company during which his fiancé's entire family was killed. After helping track down and kill all those involved and not wanting to stay in a place that every day reminded him of his beloved he left the town he had protected for a few years to once again seek somewhere new. He had wandered for a few months and ended up caught in that trap that so many find their way to.

The all-consuming bottle is the worst master any can find and few can escape from its clutches, not without a helping hand at least. His was provided by a former fellow traveller on the road to ruination turned mercenary by the name of sergeant Daniel Fellows. He soon helped sober him up and suggested an alternative way to find his end, less sure perhaps but equally nonsensical some might suppose.

“Barncastle, Carmichael, Roach good you made it, now are you all well rested and ready for anything?”

“Who put you in charge, Ryder.”

“That’s who put you in charge corporal Ryder and you know the answer to that Carmichael.”

“Only teasing you corporal, so what are we up to?”

“Winter, Wentrope and Tendry if not others have been captured by the enemy and I intend to get them back.”

“What are we up against?”

“Eight Bloody Clocks, Roach keeping watch on them at the secondary rendezvous while awaiting anyone else who might fall into their trap.”

“Five against eight you better have some sort of plan then boss.”

“Yes I do and hopefully if things don’t go too pear shape we might all come out the other side still vertical, so gather around and give it a listen.”

It was an hour or so later that we were all in place to begin my plan with a few slight modifications made at my comrade’s suggestions, mainly Barncastles but not exclusively so.

Even when outnumbered by a significant margin victory in a straight-up fight between two opposing sides is still possible, unlikely but possible. However, without that significant margin, two to one I believe is standard, more in a siege of course things tend to improve. Add the extra element of one side having to keep an eye on prisoners even paroled ones and things get even better.

Now it might seem wise for us to deal with one of the two groups of three mercenaries and the two individuals at close range and hope they are dealt with before the second group of three arrive on the scene that would only be a good idea if archery didn’t come into play. Like the five of us, all eight of the enemy were equipped with bows and the know-how to use them. This eventuality precluded this idea so an alternative had to be found and our solution was as follows.

I gathered the six horses avail to us and discreetly lead them to wander close but not too close to the rendezvous in the hope of luring as many of the enemy to try to capture these valuable commodities. It wasn’t a quick process by any definition as they were trained to be cautious by nature but give them enough time without cause to question and even the most cautious will eventually act.

While we had expected that they would have split up with no more than four of them heading to corral the horses leaving my four companions, who had long been in place, to deal with the four who remained behind this was not to be. Five were sent instead, leaving me with an extra person to delay or deal with if necessary.

Sadly for them, at least my father had an odd hobby he had taught me and my sibling over the years, magic no not real magic that would have been an impossibility on either of the realms he had called home. No, I am talking about fake magic, the performing art used to entertain the masses on Earth. It wasn’t as far as I know practised outside of my family on Telondia and I hadn’t practised it since his death but the principles behind it still fascinated me.

I had the lesser half of the horses head away from the rendezvous at a slight angle while the other finer specimens remained, this further split the enemy force. When I saw that my companions had acted I took care of the most isolated of the five remaining foes and distracted the others until we were ready to strike and strike we did. Unfortunately, it wasn’t all one-sided and we lost Carmichael in the ensuing fight

You have Slain (Level 14 Warrior)

You have helped Slay (1/2) (Level 16 Warrior)