30

A Memory of War

‘Hold the line!’ Kyngstone screamed at the units below. They shuffled unevenly, holding their shields high as the barrage of arrows rained down on them. Some men fell to the arrows, more were merely injured; not a huge deal if you could get them to a healer quick enough.

The hail of arrows finally lifted, and the troops heard another bellow from behind them.

His voice boomed, thick and heavy over the chorus of battle. It cut through the clattering of arrowheads on shields and the wailing of the injured. ‘CHARGE!’

Without any better options present, they did.

Strange to think they were sitting comfortable by a fire not even an hour ago. Now it felt like the entire world had been picked up, shaken about, and smashed against the ground.

That’s war for you. Long stretches of complete and utter boredom followed by a moment of world-shattering chaos and panic.

They charged up and into the forest from where the skirmishers began their assault, forcing their legs through bramble and waterlogged mud. It may be an uphill battle, but their numbers were better and their armour was stronger.

The League forces thundered down to meet them, weapons and shields colliding in a whirlwind of steel and blood.

He sliced at the ankle where the shield did not cover. The soldier fell back. He went in to pierce the neck, but an iron-clad hand held it back. A valiant if not wasted effort; his position was uncomfortable and inefficient. It was just a matter of time before his strength gave out.

‘My apologies.’ The blade inched closer and closer, soon making its way into the muscles of his neck, spilling deep red blood along the blade’s edge. ‘It’s not personal; just business.’

And it was just business. Whoever lived by the end of the day was the one who got paid. It was either him living or dying. No hate. No anger. No sorrow. No higher purpose.

You fight, you live, you get paid. That was all there was to it.

Ludgar was different. With him, it was never just business. You could tell as he was gleefully smiling while he pinned some League soldier to the ground, and he bashed his face in with his own shield.

You can take some fun in conflict, but this was a little far for Belfry’s taste.

However, it’s not like they were left to their own devices. Mercenaries left alone either forget to fight, they run, or somehow end up pillaging a nearby village without regard for its affiliation.

That’s why they were forced to fight under some stuffy Evandian lord and his young knight: Knight Traviyr, who fought with such elegance you should be watching it in a theatre. Not one movement was wasted. It was almost like he weaved between the blades, axes, hammers, and arrows with how little he needed to move to avoid harm. One quick thrust of his rapier, and a soldier fell. Another blurred movement of his arm, and so did another. One after another, his enemies fell. No joy to be had in any of it. Efficiency and brutality rolled into a single style of combat.

Between him and Ludgar, it was like the difference between night and day.

Traviyr had dispatched three more with nary a trace of blood about his tailored plate armour with cloth of Evandian blue, while Ludgar was pushing a soldier’s face down and drowning him in mud.

Belfry pushed onward, joining the front ranks. With their defensive line shattered and resolve broken, the enemies were routed.

They had won the day.

A roar of cheers thundered out, and the soldiers held their weapons and spirits high. Some went to pick off stragglers, some went over the remains in hopes of finding anything of worth, the rest left to heal what wounds they gathered.

The rest of the night saw the main encampment in celebration. Much drink was had and many songs were sung. Nothing like a good victory to raise morale.

Belfry saw himself into the command tent, fresh mugs of ale in hand for the battalion commanders.

Only Ludgar and Traviyr were present, who took a cloth and wiped down his blade before a swift return to its scabbard.

‘League scum. For every life they claimed, I shall make them pay tenfold.’

‘This is a war, you know,’ said Ludgar, washing himself from a basin. ‘Unless you wanted them to roll over and let you in, death shouldn’t be a surprise.’

‘What would you know, merc? Where’s your honour and loyalty?’

‘Those are luxuries I can’t really afford right now. You wouldn’t know. Given that tailored armour of yours, I bet you’ve been able to afford everything in life, haven’t you?’ Traviyr stood threateningly close, face to face.

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‘You will cease speaking before I cease it for you by cutting your throat out.’

‘Try it. Please. I’ve been waiting for an excuse to beat the shit out of you.’

When two canines are left alone together, this kind of thing usually happens. Ludgar: the black wolf, and Traviyr: the brown canine. He was almost a wolf, just not completely there. He still maintained the pronounced snout with a darker face while the rest of the fur turned a light brown. There was just something softer about his features than what Ludgar had. Despite his strength, he still looked like someone you could approach.

‘You boys should save that energy,’ a voice came, booming jolly and mighty. A large, grey wolf walked in, fur marked with the scars of countless battles. He watched the two through his single eye, the other forced shut from some ancient wound. ‘There are thousands more enemies out there, and you lads want to kill each other?’ Kyngstone let loose a joyous laugh and took the two by the shoulders.

Belfry took that moment to get some air. It was usually the best thing to do in a situation like this; you avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Regardless, nothing ends up happening. Kyngstone is always there to keep them in check.

‘And that’s what it was like fighting vith Ludgar. Fun; if only for him.’ Belfry sat back into the cushioned seat of the inn. As far as inns go, This was the best they had ever set foot in. For one thing, every seat was cushioned. Caspar would be fast asleep, if he wasn’t so busy eating. Kathiya sat with a mug of ale at the table, while Sethel looked at home by the fire with a book in hand. Ves’sa sat on the ledge of a window, looking out into the moonlit streets below.

‘I figured something like this vould happen to him eventually. Maybe it’ll calm him down somevhat,’ he continued, as he took a pipe from within his pocket and let it sit between his lips.

‘So, who was that, anyway?’ Caspar asked, using a piece of bread to scoop up the remains of the borvin stew. ‘The woman with the black hair? You mentioned something about the seas, right?’

Belfry took a long inhale of his pipe, and let the sweet smoke ease its way out through his nostrils. ‘Her name is Lazuli, though that is not how most know her. There vas a time, a few years ago, when piracy vas at its peak. Ships vould leave Versia and trade vith exotic goods from places like Xandala and Kostikor. A convenient route along the Jade Coast. It was a revarding journey, yet ultimately risky.’

‘Because of the piracy?’

‘Yes, even though there vere very few pirates along the Jade Coast.’

‘But you just said piracy was at its peak.’

‘It vas.’

‘With so few pirates?’

‘There used to be, till she came. They call her the Scourge of the Seas. A terrifying, bloodthirsty pirate vithout ship and crew. She attacked everything: traders, pirates, military vessels. An entire Man-o-War reduced to driftvood; crew forever lost to the Leviathan’s Den. She attacked everything, because nothing could stop her. It got to the point that they sent out decoy vessels to keep her distracted.’

‘Did it work?’

‘Oh yes. It vorked too well. It vorked so well that others followed suit. This enraged her. They say an entire fleet was consumed by a wave that could level a mountain. I don’t know how much of that vas Lazuli’s doing, or how much vas mother nature itself.’

‘What happened to her?’

‘One day, she just stopped.’ He took another pinch of sweetroot and lit it in his pipe.

‘Why?’

‘Who knows? The last I heard, there was quite a battle with some incredibly fortified ship.’ He took another drag, this time allowing the smoke to spill from his mouth. Like his throat was a furnace, and he was speaking words of fire. ‘Ever since, she vasn’t heard from again. I recall there vas a vell paying contract out for bodyguard vork on that ship. I never accepted. Seemed far too suspicious. They gave no details on vhat ve vere guarding. Jobs like that prove to be fatal ones.’

‘All I know is that the seas grew much safer after that day.’ He tapped the pipe's contents into a glass ashtray and returned it to his pocket. ‘For a time, before the other pirates found out, anyway. And now, she’s back. And even the land isn’t safe.’

‘How do you know all this?’ Caspar said, batting away the lingering smoke.

‘You hear a lot of sailor tales when living in a port city.’ He noticed Kathiya. She sat in the solemn silence of one with much weight on their mind. A distraction was in order. ‘And vhat of you, Kathiya? You seem to care more for Ludgar than any mercenary reasonably should.’

‘Heh. Guess I don’t make that good of a mercenary then.’ She downed the last of the drink she cradled in hand, setting the mug aside and bunching herself up in the seat, trying her best to get comfortable which proved more difficult than it should have. ‘Truth is, I owe Ludgar a lot. I ran up quite a few debts and made some pretty powerful friends. Thieves don’t make good friends, you see, and when you end up making more money than them, they quickly turn into enemies. I borrowed some money from them, they kept raking up the price every time I tried to pay them back. Eventually, it became too much for some young, orphaned girl alone in the city to handle. There are... other ways to pay back the Moonlight Serpents; ways that are too much even for me.

‘That’s when Ludgar found me. He said he needed someone who knew their way around a bow, paid my debts, and we’ve been with each other since. You should have seen the broker’s face when he tried to raise the price on me. Ludgar took him by the neck and smashed his face into his own desk. My father once said violence doesn’t solve anything, but that really wasn’t true that day.’

‘I see you and Ludgar are quite close, then.’

‘He’s... He’s like a brother to me, if this is what having a brother is like. Is it?’

‘It... differs from person to person.’

‘Well, I… Oh my god.’ Her voice dropped to a whisper as she uncrossed her legs and sat upright, staring straight ahead at the window.

‘Vhat? Vhat is it?’ he whispered too, sitting up to try and see behind him.

‘It’s Ves’sa.’

‘Yes. Vhat about Ves’sa?’

‘She’s asleep.’

Belfry looked over the top of his armchair. She was still sat upright. Only her head had fallen forward and her eyes were closed. If you didn’t focus, you’d think she was still awake.

‘Oh. Is that all?’

‘We’ve never seen her sleep.’

‘Really? After all this time?’

Caspar put his bowl down and was ready to stand, when Kathiya’s hand caught him by the shoulder.

‘Caspar, stop. It took us this long to get her comfortable enough to do that. I don’t want you ruining it.’

‘Okay, sorry.’ He moved to another position and slumped down into the soft embrace of a comfortable chair.

And that was it for the rest of the night. The mercs soon filtered out to their respective rooms, allowing the comfort of a warm, soft bed to carry away their troubles and let the dreamweavers work their magic.