It was a couple of days after the big battle, on our day of rest, when one of the cooks came up to me. “Apologies, Milord, might you have a moment?”
“Of course, what can I do for you, Bendis?” I asked, looking up for the musket I was examining. It was one of the ones we had found in Nerd’s room. It was not a normal musket, it’s bore was almost three times the size in diameter, it was about a third shorter, and with a flared muzzle. There were also two pistols with a similar design. Unlike the other firearms found in his room, they were all smoothbore.
“There’s a problem with the new provisions we received, Milord. Senior Squad Leader Linus said I should take it to you,” he said, looking mightily frightened when he said so.
I frowned at that. Most of the garden had been ruined during the fighting, so I did not need a problem with the new supplies we had received. “What’s wrong with them?”
“Milord, my apologies, we should have gotten to it sooner,” the cook quickly stammered, looking like he was about to piss himself. I realized I might have sounded a bit angry or upset when I asked.
I took a deep breath, schooled my expression, and asked again, “What’s wrong?”
“The supplies, Milord, they’re bad. Rotten, mouldy, and such. That’s just the foodstuff,” he replied, then he took another deep breath. “The barrels of powder are wet, almost as if someone poured water into them. A lot of it. Commander Hrothgar is down there, trying to see if some of it can be salvaged.”
“Thanks for telling me this, I better go deal with it,” I said, anger starting to boil up. It sounded like someone had sabotaged our supplies from Wilbur, the gunpowder might have been sabotaged here. However, unless there was a fungus mage or a rot mage, or something like that, the food would have to have been bad from the start. That smelled of Wilbur sending a fuck you.
I made my way down to the storage area in the cavern. I found Hrothgar frowning as he surveyed the two wagons of new supplies that we had gotten. As soon as he saw me, he shook his head. “Milord, everything is bad. The food is spoiled, the gunpowder wet, the musket balls are badly formed, and the arrows are crooked. This is deliberate.”
“Fucking Wilbur,” I cursed. “I’ll have a chat with him as soon as we get home. How do we solve this?”
“I don’t know, Milord. Kick it up the chain of command, High Commander Ballard might have a solution,” he suggested with a shrug.
“I guess I’ll have to do that. Do you know where he is?”
“Of course, Milord. The high commanders have their chambers down here with the priest and mancers, they told us that on the first meeting,” he answered.
I sighed. I knew I should pay more attention to those meetings, but they were just so damn long and boring. All the seemingly unimportant details. “Thanks, find out how to get rid of it, but don’t do it until Ballard has had a chance to see it.”
“Yes, Milord,” he said with a bow of his head.
I turned around and made my way to the door leading to where Ballard should be. I knocked on the door, after a minute no answer, so I tried the door. Locked. I knocked again, and again, and again. After five minutes someone finally opened. It was an older looking man. “Yes?”
“I want to speak to High Commander Ballard,” I said.
He just shrugged and opened the door to let me in. I stepped into what looked like a hotel lobby almost. Several corridors leading off in all directions almost, and stairs going up and down.
The man stepped behind the counter again, pointed at the corridor to my left. “Down that way, second door.”
“On the left or right?” I asked.
He looked at me like I was stupid, and I had to resist the urge to pummel him for the disrespect. “There are only doors on one side.”
As I stalked down the corridor, I heard soft snoring behind me. That explained why it took so long for him to open the door, despite being just next to it. Knocking on yet another door, I was mollified by the fact it took less than a minute for the door to open. A bleary-eyed Ballard blinked his eyes, looking weirdly at me. A little brusquely he asked, “What?”
“Three things. First, sorry for waking you.”
He waved it away and motioned for me to go on. So I did, “Second, your doorman is atrocious, it took nearly two spans of me knocking before he opened the door,” I said and saw his slight frown turn deeper. “Exactly, if it had been an emergency, the castle might have fallen in that time.”
“I’ll deal with it. What’s the third thing?” he asked, suddenly a bit more awake.
“There’s a problem with the supplies that my squadron received four days ago, we just got around to looking them over.”
He sighed. “Listen, nothing we can do about it. Not to sound callous, but even if a little food is missing, you’ve lost a lot of men after it arrived, surely you can get by.”
I had to resist the urge to punch him, and it was really hard to get control of that urge. Two deep breaths before I was calm enough to answer him. He looked a bit worried, so I reckoned my anger had shown on my face. “If it was just a bit of missing supplies, I would not bother you. Even with our rooftop garden ruined, we would have gotten by. However, the whole shipment is ruined. All the food is spoiled, the powder is drenched, the balls malformed, and the arrows crooked.”
“Fucking politics,” he muttered. He then looked sharply at me. “I knew you had pissed off your high lord to be here, but not that much. Means he has cut you loose. You’re on your own.”
“I figured that, but I need to know what that means. I already knew that high lords can order their lords to lead men into battle, it’s rarely used though,” I replied. “I didn’t know they could cut us loose.”
“It rarely happens, when it does we try to scrounge up food for the men affected by the damn politics. It’s usually only a month, and normally the Lord would just have his troops forage, but—” he left that hanging.
“Is not possible here,” I said slowly.
“Listen, every squadron will have some extra provisions, I’ll start scrounging it up, and I’ll talk with the priest, have him send a message to your high lord. It was High Lord Wilbur, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s the weasel.”
“I’ll see what I can do, expect an answer later today,” he said and stood back. It was obvious I had been dismissed.
“Thank you, High Commander,” I said with a little bit of respect and turned around. When I got back to the lobby, the doorman was still sleeping. I did not even bother, I just removed the bar across the door and left. Leaving the door wide open.
I made my way back to the barracks and continued examining the weapons we had looted from Nerd’s quarters. There had been a few questions asked about the missing weapons, but nothing serious, so I had started looking over them.
There were a total of eleven weapons. The aforementioned smoothbore with a flared muzzle and the two pistols of the same kind. After giving it some thought I decided they were something akin to shotguns. There were four muskets, or more precisely rifles. They had rifled barrels, all of them a different kind of rifling. Almost as if it was an experiment.
Then there was a single rifle that was about half as long again as the normal ones. It would be a nightmare to reload, but the range might make it so it did not matter. He had also been working on a kind of scope for it but had never finished it if the dismantled spyglasses had been any indication. The best thing was that there were actually a couple of spy glasses that he had not dismantled.
The last three guns were equally interesting. All of them seemed to be an experiment into rapid-fire guns. One was an over-under barrel where you could change whether you were firing the upper or lower barrel. The lower barrel being a smaller calibre than the upper. Then you had a pistol with the same configuration, and lastly, there was a pistol with a side-by-side barrel and two hammers.
It was all interesting stuff, but the most interesting was the hundreds of rounds and powder we found. All of them had been marked by calibres and gunpowder ratio in the boxes they were stored. With a few false guesses, it was easy to figure out what went with which gun.
The interesting part about it was how they were stored. He had made some kind of thick waxy paper cartridge. The ball was stored in one end and the powder in another. It was a great idea, one I had to reproduce. The cartridges for the shotgun-like weapons all held multiple balls, validating my earlier guess.
However, it was not just the paper cartridge he had changed. The balls were different as well. Instead of a round ball, most of them were like the tip of a normal bullet, with a few grooves around their circumference at the bottom end. I was eager to test fire them because I was pretty sure this would increase accuracy.
The last thing I noticed was that the powder was different. It was a bit finer, had a different smell and feel to it than the normal black powder. While I would dearly love to distribute all the weapons to my people, there were not enough shots and powder for it all. Nevertheless, I did take the long rifle and the two shotgun-like pistols.
I would need the cloth mages to adjust my harness to accommodate the new weapons. I was in the middle of instructing them how I wanted it changed when the door opened and one of the guards let Ballard into the quarters.
“Lord Karth, might we have a moment to talk privately?” he asked.
“Sure, it would probably be best out here,” I said and indicated the door that we used to exit the barracks. “Unless you want to take it to the roof.”
“Let’s go to the roof,” he said.
“Right this way then,” I said and led him to the room we had placed the stairs in. Lena was sitting nearby, ready to close the hole in our defence if needed. The other stone mages were busy working on the escape route.
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Up on the roof, I saw Siphanien and Ilmadia were busy tending to the few plants that had lived the carnage the harpies had wrought. Yathanae were keeping them company. Ballard looked hard at them, though his stance relaxed a bit when his eyes fell on their manacles.
“I don’t understand why you would keep such animals around,” he sniffed.
I felt like pushing him over the edge of the roof, but instead, I just shrugged and told a half-lie, “They were cheap labour.”
“I’ve talked with the other high commanders and we’ll be able to scrounge up enough rations for you for the rest of the moon,” Ballard said, not looking happy at all.
I nodded, I was not happy about taking hand-outs, but I needed my people fed. I wondered why he wanted to speak in private but then spoke in front of the three elves. However, that was not my main concern. “That’s good news. Why the serious face and the need to talk in private?”
“Had a talk with the priest. He said that High Lord Wilbur will not be improving any future shipments. He’ll provide them at the same quality as the rest.”
I frowned at that. “Okay, but if there are enough rations now, we should be able to make due in the future as well.”
“Unfortunately not,” Ballard said with a sad shake of his head. “You see, the losses are reported to the high holders so that they ship only what’s needed. Next moon, we’ll not have enough rations to help feed you.”
“Fuck that weasel and the toad that sired him,” I started cursing Wilbur’s lineage. My cursing went on for a few minutes.
“If you’re done?” Ballard finally asked.
“For now,” I grumbled.
“I’m sorry, there is nothing else we can do,” Ballard said. “Since we’re feeding you for the moon, you’re expected to still take part in the guard rotation. However, next moon you don’t have to take part. Don’t know how you’ll keep your men fed though.”
He turned and left. I waited for a few minutes until I was sure he was gone. In elvish, I asked, “I know you’ve been practising your human, did you hear what he said?”
“We understood,” Siphanien said.
Ilmadia looked troubled. “Even if we get the garden up again and it’s not ruined, there’s not enough to feed everyone for a moon. It was only meant to supplement.”
“I know,” I replied with a sigh.
“You’ll figure something out, I know you will,” Yathanae said and slipped up next to me. Probably because the guards on the eastern wall would be able to see us, she did not hug me, though I felt her lightly touch my hand in a comforting way.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because they underestimate you, just like that arrogant prick thought we were too uncivilized to understand what he said,” Yathanae said with venom in her voice.
“You were pretty wild in bed last night,” I teased with a smile. She blushed and elicited a giggle from the two others.
“I awoke to that moaning, thought something was wrong at first,” Ilmadia said, and then imitated Yathanae.
“Stop it,” Yathanae complained.
“Or what? You’re going to keep us all night with your moaning?” Siphanien asked with a smile. “Again.”
“Ugh, you’re impossible,” Yathanae groused and turned around to flee downstairs. I was grinning the whole time, even though I was still worried about how to take care of my men, it was nice to get distracted from it, and I had time to figure it out.
My grin faded when it fell on the stone plaques set up around the roof. Each plaque held the name of all those that had died here. I knew a monument was being constructed back at the Hold, I had Ethan send a message to Emma, containing all the names and instructions to take care of Kiril’s family.
My eyes stopped at the urn containing Kiril’s ashes. Actually the large urn contained ashes from all of my fallen men we had been able to retrieve, we had used the other barracks’ roof to burn the bodies. The large urn only held a little bit of each of my fallen troopers. Down in the storage area, we had individual urns for each of the fallen. It had taken a lot of mana, to incinerate that many bodies, but I felt that I owed them to do that at least.
The cheerful air that the girls had made me feel was gone. A bit dejectedly I made my way downstairs and into my chamber, where my eyes fell on the armour and sword-staff of the mage that killed Kiril. For a moment I felt a flash of anger just at the sight of those implements, but it was irrational. They were just tools, valuable tools.
Yathanae had told me about them. Both were magic artefacts that had passed down generations from Ayda the Immortal. The stone mage had been something akin to a prince or something, so I had probably made an immortal enemy. Just one more on the growing list.
Tired, despite it not even being noon, I flopped down on the bed. Uneasy sleep soon found me.
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Life under siege continued as it had so far. With a few exceptions, one of them was that the quality of our fare fell rapidly when we ran out of our own rations. It seemed like everyone had gotten rid of their most unappetizing rations.
Another was that we were mostly assigned to the towers closest to the mountainside. Probably because of our reduced size. The most noticeable difference was the elves' lack of attacks. Sure they would still fire arrows at long distance, lob some stones with the trebuchets, but they made no attempts on the walls. Not even a sneak attack with harpies.
The number of casualties was very low, numbered in the single digits per day across all battalions, and because of where we guarded, my squadron had lost none since the big battle.
After sixteen days of this routine, we were called to another meeting. There had been minor meetings on the battalion level, but not the entire force since after the battle. Hrothgar and I trooped up as usual, with Alan, Niska, and Charles trailing us. A few of the younger commanders snickered behind my back for some reason. I would need to teach them a lesson at some point.
Anders gave me a polite nod when I joined the other commanders from Sixth Battalion. A few minutes later the rest of the commanders arrived, and Farnsworth spoke up, “As you probably know, the dwarves have been working hard on repairing the road after the lava trap.”
There were murmurs of agreement on that. It had been weird seeing the dwarves out and about. They had only worked during the night, but even then they had been clad in leather from head to toe. Almost like they were wearing hazmat suits or something.
“They were paid by the elves to recover all their dead,” Farnsworth continued with a nasty smile, getting a round of cheering from some of the commanders. Farnsworth seemed to bask in it for a moment before moving on. “As some of you’ve probably noticed, the fields outside are pretty empty. The elves have pulled back. It’s time to remind them what happens when they don’t guard the gates. We’re mounting a raid.”
I narrowed my eyes at that. It would be a bad idea in my opinion, unless we had horses it was doomed to fail. The other commanders seemed to either be nervous at the prospect or very excited. A few of them, mostly the older ones like Lambert, took it stoically. Anders shot me a nervous look. He seemed to share my trepidation.
“The dwarves will finish their work before dawn. We’ve been assured that it’ll be a glass and a half before to be exact. That tidbit of information has cost a lot of coins. A glass before dawn, the portal will open and five battalions worth of cavalry will arrive,” Farnsworth said, his voice rising with excitement. “They’ll not wait to form up, they’ll head directly for the ramp and the gates. Race across the plains and start burning down everything they can get to.”
“That sounds like suicide, is that really a good idea?” Anders questioned.
“It’ll be of little consequence. The horses will be the biggest loss, including the few real troopers amongst them. All old and willing to sacrifice their life for the Gods,” Farnsworth answered nonchalantly.
“Real troopers?” Lambert asked, just as confused as I was.
“Lord Karth has demonstrated that tainted makes adequate troopers, so King Alfred has decided to train a few battalions worth of Forsaken as they’re called. If they complete their mission and live, they’ll be granted a life of leisure,” Farnsworth explained.
“Won’t that set a dangerous precedent?” someone asked.
Farnsworth shook his head and gave that nasty smile of his again. Almost gleefully, he told us, “We don’t expect any of them to live, because the commanders will lead them so far behind enemy lines that none of them can possibly get out alive. Even if they do survive, the temporary bindstones only last a couple of days. They’ll die regardless of how successful they were.”
The commanders started to talk excitedly amongst each other, but I was not listening. I was trembling with rage. One thing was losing troopers in battle, but to be that uncaring about them was another. The trooper next to you could save your life. The blatant disrespect was making my blood boil because it reminded me of how I had disrespected many of the troopers. Not learning their names were the largest disrespect I had shown the men that I was fighting next to. However, that disrespect was nothing compared to what he was showing.
Anders shot me an angry look, but I felt the anger was not directed towards me, but Farnsworth and the King. When I looked him in the eye, I nodded, to illustrate I felt exactly the same anger.
Sure, I had not given them a lot of choices when I bought them to become troopers. However, I saw it more like conscription than ordering them on a suicide run. A major difference in what I and the king were doing, was the fact that I fought next to them at all times. I did not sit back in my castle, ordering them to die, I fought with them on the frontline.
Even though I was making these rationales, I could not help but think that there were many similarities between what we were doing. However, I also knew that it would be the same if I had conscripted freemen to be troopers. The only thing I could do was to make sure as many of my men got home alive as possible.
Farnsworth held his hand up for silence, and after a minute he had. “We need the Fifth and Sixth Battalion to follow the raiders down, hold the bottom of the road. Make it appear like we want to secure a road back for them. At least until they’re so far away that they can’t see us pulling back.”
I could not help myself any longer. “That’s suicide for us as well. We’ll be out in the open, nowhere to hide from their arrows. Haven’t we suffered enough losses on your harebrained schemes?”
There was deadly silence following my outburst, though I saw a few people in Sixth and Fifth nod. Farnsworth got a nasty look on his face, turning beat red, trembling with anger. Before he could say anything, Ballard stepped forward and turned around. He practically growled, when he shouted, “That’s enough. Disrespect and insubordination will not be tolerated. We’ll discuss punishment later.
“If you would have let the High Commander finish, you would have heard the rest of the plan. A contingency of lapomancers will arrive with the raiders as well. They’ll build fortification at the bottom of the road, they will also build covers for your retreat. Lord Karth, you’ll return to your barracks as soon as the meeting is over, and then we’ll discuss your punishment.”
I had been looking at Farnsworth out of the corner of my eyes. There was no way what Ballard told us was the plan because he looked just as surprised at the news as we were, however, Farnsworth seemed to realize that it was the only way to save face, so he quickly schooled his expression.
“Exactly. Thank you, Ballard,” Farnsworth said through gritted teeth. “If there’s nothing else, I’ve arrangements to make.”
With that, he and the priest made for the officer country, while Ballard gave me a final hard stare, before walking away as well. Shrugging I started making my way back to the barracks. I was pondering whether to use my escape route tonight, or wait until the raiders were out and about. That would create a lot of havoc, making it easier for us to slip away unnoticed.
“Karth, wait up,” I heard Anders call from behind.
“You heard the man, I got orders,” I replied with a wry smile.
He laughed a bit at that. “I doubt you ever were good at following orders unless you want to.”
“You got that right,” I said and switched to English. “What’s up?”
“This is insanity. We need to stop them from sacrificing slaves,” Anders replied angrily.
“There’s nothing we can do, which wouldn’t also get us killed,” I said. “And even if we stop it now, they’ll just use it elsewhere.”
“It’s wrong.”
“War is wrong,” I countered. “The best you can do is protect those you take under your wings. You can’t protect the whole world.”
“I don’t accept that, there has to be a way.”
I shrugged. “Not one I can see. Tell me, is it better to save one hundred people than none?”
“I—” he seemed to deflate a bit. “Fine, I can’t see a way to stop it either. I heard you’re running out of supplies.”
I frowned at that. “Yeah, I guess that’s no secret.”
“What’s your escape plan?”
“Why would you think I have one?” I asked, trying to act normal.
“Because you’re a criminal,” he countered. “Also, I’ve seen the fact that you have your own mancers with you. You’re planning something. Tunnelling your way out?”
“And declare war on the dwarves? No thank you,” I said.
“Listen, if you leave, I want in. I’m tired of being a sacrificial lamb,” he said, with an almost begging tone in his voice.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said and walked away. It was tempting to include him. More men would mean more success. It was at least something to think about.