In Fields of Gold

6th Day of Harvest,

766 Karloman’s Peace

The yellow stalk reached ever skyward. Its golden hue a silent hymn to the ever-nurturing star that nourished it, along with its thousands of siblings in the surrounding field. Each day, it strained a bit higher, certain that it would eventually graze the celestial sphere whose shine falsely promised the gift of eternal day.

It was a stalk unlike any other; its spikelets were fuller, its florets lusher. Proud and strong, it was resplendent, greater than any of the stalks beside it. None reached as high or stood as bold as this stalk. An entire season of its supremacy had passed, each day solidifying its sense of quiet grandeur.

Then, in an instant, the stalk was bent and broken, crushed, stomped back into the earth under the tread of mightier being’s hoof.

The survivors of the manor massacre spurred their horses through the wheat fields of Brono County. In just half a cycle, they had covered almost three hundred miles, hunters dogging their every step.

Hanib and his army would not relent.

They had long since left the reach of Hanib's social and commercial influence. Yet, he pursued the Reubke party across the Ulm, Zalzen, and Plzen Marquessates, and now through the Schwaben Commandery and into Sorbia.

Hanib's army had first caught up with the Reubke party as they left the town of Nurnber in the Durn County of Ulm. The Reubkes, unaware of pursuit, had stopped to trade goods and rest at the town’s inn. Their fleeting sense of calmness was shattered when Aldedramnus spotted an Agilolfing scout searching the town and interrogating locals. A quarrel turned deadly, leaving the scout dead and Aldedramnus badly wounded.

Branded murderers, the Reubke party fled Nurnber, leaving behind many possessions, chased by the town guard.

Hanib’s army soon caught up and joined the pursuit. The Reubke party had since fought several skirmishes with Hanib’s scouts but had managed to avoid being caught by the full might of Hanib’s little army.

Now, the scouts were once more upon them, and in greater numbers than before.

Twenty mounted soldiers galloped a hundred metres behind. The Reubkes, weary and famished from eight days without proper rest, were unwilling to confront them. They chose instead to flee.

They fled in the direction of the Danzig River. A nearby ferry crossing offered escape. If they could board and sail before capture, they might disappear into the Lenzen Commandery hills beyond. The river, over a mile wide, provided a natural barrier and alternative crossings were several days ride away.

They just had to make it before Hanib’s men were upon them.

Ekkehard spurred his steed as hard as he dared and risked loosening the reins an inch further. It reduced his control over the horse, but speed was paramount. His sides ached as Auriana clung to him tightly. It was still several miles to their destination.

The pursuing scouts were relentless. Armed with bows, they released arrow after arrow at Ekkehard and his companions. Missiles whipped past Ekkehard before vanishing into the dense wheat fields.

Only Evroul and Ekkehard were skilled enough to shoot while riding, but with Auriana on his horse, Ekkehard couldn’t use his bow. Thus, only Evroul returned fire.

Ahead, Evroul contorted himself awkwardly, struggling to nock and aim an arrow. The shot flew past Ekkehard. Spinning back to a forward position, Evroul quickly prepared another arrow, glancing back sporadically as he did.

'Any luck?' Ekkehard called.

'No!' Evroul returned, frustration clear. 'Too fast, too far, too bloody hungry.' He examined an arrow, then stowed it and his bow before slowing his horse, aligning with Ekkehard's.

‘Just going to have to outrun them,' he said, looking to Ekkehard, 'no other choice.'

It was the start of harvest season; farmers and their farmhands were reaping in the fields. As the riders passed by, the workers reacted with panic or mild curiosity. Some were startled enough to drop their tools and run towards the town of Berg.

Watching the farmhands flee, Ekkehard looked to the nearby town. It was a moderately sized, encircled by segmented walls and sporadically placed watchtowers from where archers would defend against invaders. The sight gave Ekkehard an idea.

He tried glancing back at their pursuers but couldn’t see past Auriana.

'Evroul!' Ekkehard shouted to his brother, 'what colours do they wear?'

'What?' his brother shouted back, confused.

'Their colours!' he responded, 'are they Imperial or Agilolfing?'

Evroul glanced back, horse still at a gallop. ‘Neither. Mercenaries, maybe,’ he looked over to Ekkehard, ‘That bastard's not sparing any expense.’

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‘Mercenaries, are you sure?’ Ekkehard quizzed.

‘As sure as I can be,’ Evroul replied. ‘I don’t see any purple back there.’

‘Good!’ Ekkehard exclaimed.

Evroul shot him a curious look.

‘Audomar!’ Ekkehard shouted, turning his attention to the leader of their group. ‘Audomar! Head for that town there and be quick about it.’

'What! Are you crazy? That town will be full of Imperial Guards!' Audomar protested, shaking his head.

'Exactly! Brother, trust me; I have an idea!' Ekkehard urged.

'What idea?' Audomar shot back.

‘Just ride!’ Ekkehard bellowed. ‘It's either that or we die trying for the boat.’

With reluctance, Audomar steered the group towards the town.

'What are you up to?' Evroul inquired.

'You'll see,' Ekkehard said with a determined edge in his voice.

As the group directed their horses toward the town, Ekkehard whispered a prayer to himself. ‘Dear Lord of Autumn, please bless my words this day.’

The whole party pushed their horses as hard as they could. Ekkehard's grey mount galloped forward, breathing heavily; he could feel the sweat weeping under its fur.

He just needed to keep this up a little longer, just push a little further.

When they were only a few hundred metres from town, Ekkehard started to enact his plan. Outside the city were several more fields, each filled with workers, and several parties of travellers were making their way through one of the guarded entry passages.

'Bandits!' Ekkehard screamed.

'Bandits!' he exclaimed again. ‘Run, make for the town, bandit attack!'

His companions quickly joined in, raising a false alarm.

Panic soon spread among the field workers and travellers, who dropped their belongings and fled towards the town. Alarm bells and drums resounded, calling the town’s guard to position.

As Ekkehard's group reached the town's border, the segmental walls were alive with movement. Archers positioned themselves, and armed horsemen secured the entry. The passage, flanked by two large sections of stone wall and wooden watchtowers, was guarded by ten armoured horsemen, busy ushering civilians in.

"Halt!" a mounted guard, likely a captain judging by his better armour and authoritative demeanour, shouted. "What is the meaning of this? Who are you? Explain yourselves!" He and all the horsemen wore the purple cloaks of the Imperial Guard.

Ekkehard and his group reared their horses scant metres from the guards.

Ekkehard went to answer but he couldn’t prevent his eyes from drifting to the purple of the captain’s cloak.

His voice seized and he found himself mute. His heart began to thud, louder than the war drums that resounded around him, threatening to split his ribcage. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his eyes widened, a mask of horror dominating his face. Visions swarmed him: nightmares of flickering flames and the slick wetness of spilled blood.

Suddenly, he was no longer standing before the guard captain; he was entombed within a cruel, iron chamber, sealed within a contraption of torment. The air turned stifling, suffocating, choking off his breath. The floor beneath him glowed a sinister red, pulsating like the heart of a demonic creature.

A heat more desolate than the hells washed over him.

In the distance, the cries of children clawed at the walls of his sanity, ripping through the silence like a scalding wind.

His screams joined them.

Just as suddenly, he was jerked back into the world of the living.

A sharp jolt to his arm. Evroul had struck him, snapping him from his paralyzing reverie.

A surge of urgency flooded Ekkehard’s veins, clearing the fog from his mind as he willed himself back to the moment and sprang into action.

'Bandits, Sir!' Ekkehard bellowed, finding his voice once more. 'Twenty or more, right behind us.' He turned in the saddle and pointed towards the fast-approaching scout party.

‘Bandits? No bandit would dare come this close to town. How do I know you're not with them?’ the guard captain challenged.

Ekkehard was still flustered from his visions and stuttering floundered his response.

Fortunately, Florentin quickly interjected.

'We are merchants from Plzen,’ he explained. ‘We were ambushed on the road, many were killed. We had to abandon our wares and run. My brother, he killed one of the attackers. They are out for blood. They have chased us for hours; I don’t think they will ever let us go.'

The guard scowled at Florentin.

‘Please,’ Ekkehard interjected, regaining his composure, ‘my brother is badly wounded. We have women and a child with us, you must let us in.’

The captain looked behind the group at the oncoming scout party and back to Ekkehard. He seemed torn, uncertain of how to continue. His gaze moved from Auriana to Gisla, which seemed to settle his internal debate. Begrudgingly, he spoke,

‘I don’t like this, but go on then, get in,’ he said. ‘Wait for me in the town square. I'll be there shortly to hear the full story and you better have your papers ready.'

'Thank you, sir,' Ekkehard said gratefully to the guard captain as he started to lead the party through the passage and into the town.

'Archers!' the captain shouted as they left, 'loose a warning shot!'

A few of the archers on the walls aimed their bows high into the air and loosed a volley. Arrows landed in the path of the scouting party, causing them to rear their horses and halt in alarm. Meanwhile, the Reubke party rode into the town, passing ranks of Imperial Spearmen who were headed to support the guard captain and his men.

They headed straight for the town square. It took several minutes on horseback to reach it. Once there, Gerwald was the first to speak up.

‘What do we do now then?’ he asked in a tone that betrayed his panic.

The square was filled with merchants who were frantically packing away their goods, aiming to secure them before seeking shelter in their homes. Citizens were rushing in every direction, while homeowners were bolting their windows and doors shut.

The alarm had set the whole town on edge.

‘We are going to wait for the guard, aren’t we?' the young Gisla asked from the back of Gerwald's horse.

'No!' Florentin answered. 'We don't know how long this ruse has bought us; we should make for the ferry crossing.'

‘Agreed,' Audomar responded, addressing everyone. He then spoke to the five former servants and workers who travelled with them. ‘You can all come with us or stay here and make a life for yourselves. No one here knows you, and you'll only be in danger if you follow.'

The five of them looked to one another, unsure. Finally, one of the men, Bavo, the only surviving builder, answered, 'I think we would rather stay with all of you; safety in numbers, and all of that.'

Audomar nodded to Bavo and addressed the whole group again. 'Head for the east side of the town; let's not waste any more time.'

A few minutes later the group reached the east entry of the town. As they passed through and back into the wheat fields beyond, Florentin threw a weighty bag of coins to a sentry.

'If anyone asks after us, we headed north,' Florentin instructed the man as he took the bribe.

Ekkehard felt the first vestiges of relief when he realized his group was no longer being chased.

The scouts had lost their trail, either searching the town or driven off by the guards. The group slowed their horses, giving them much-needed rest, as they trotted towards the ferry crossing.

Ekkehard’s shoulders relaxed. It was a tension he hadn’t been aware of until that moment. It was vulnerable sensation he hadn’t experienced since his days at war. One he had hoped, in vain, never to experience again.