by Guy Antibes
“We’re all mixed in here, I’m afraid. Need some helmet repair? The Second set up first and their forges are already hot. Maybe you could ask them. Over there.” The man pointed her to a line of forges fifty paces away.
She walked up to a forge. “Would you mind if I made my own repairs—” She stopped cold as she came face to face with Laxall.
“Bellia. That you? Looks like you’ve growed some.” He looked her up and down, leering. “Still got that knife?” His eyes found her short sword. “You do.”
“If you’re not using your forge, I’d like to make some modifications to these helmets.”
“For a price, lass. For a price. Noller’d kill you if he was here anymore. He had to run after those swords his brother made didn’t work like the circle squares.”
Bellia wondered if she’d have to fight Laxall. The man stood right next to her belly to belly. She looked right into his eyes, surprised that she’d gained so much height. His breath hadn’t improved. Perhaps he hadn’t washed out his mouth at all in all the last nine months.
“I don’t mind.” Laxall’s voice was almost a whisper. “He only paid me for gettin’ him the secret. No profits in the deal for me.” The man started to laugh. “Don’t you tell anyone I was involved. Nobody knows. That’ll be pay enough. Go ahead use the forge. It’ll give me an excuse to take a nap. Just bank the coals when you’re done. Leave you to it.” Laxall waved as he disappeared into the jumble of tents making a mockery of King Rollack’s orderly courtyard system.
Bellia had to sit down on a bench. The day of dread when she ran into Laxall had just come and gone. At the relief of the moment, she broke into laughter. So much for dread. Sergeant Major Noller was just Noller on the run in the much warmer north.
She stacked all twenty of the squad’s helmets. In a supply tent a few paces away, Bellia saw stacks of shiny steel sheet. She walked over and picked one up. This was steel for armor plate. It was significantly better than the poor quality steel pots they wore. This metal would be nearly as strong and lighter if she could put some bends in it for strength. She could make them a little bigger to accommodate a knit liner or two. What would make them strong? She thought of a cone, but no adequate form existed. He took the sheet back to the forge and grabbed one of the helmets. In a couple of hours she finished a prototype and a template out of an iron helmet.
The new helmet was no longer a metal pot. She fashioned three peaks that ran from front to the back. The central point flared into a peaked visor that would channel some of the water to the sides. The back fanned out creating protection for the back of the neck, just enough to balance the extra weight of the visor extension. Bellia fashioned a nose guard that extended down from the headband. It looked awful with all of the pounding and discoloration from the heat and coals. That could be polished out in the camp.
Bellia worked into the night. Her thoughts turned to Uddo and his discussion about her family. Perhaps a little protective magic might be in order. She remembered what her mother used on the pots and pans to keep them from denting and rusting.
The night turned into early morning. Only a few souls were about when Bellia started to hum. As she banked the coals, she did a little dance. She still didn’t work any codes, but she could sense magic in the blade.
Sleep began to creep into her eyes. Threading the helmets on the pike she was ready to move out. She grabbed a sack of scouring sand and, tying it to her belt, shuffled into the false dawn, not looking forward to slipping and sliding in the mud to her unit’s tent.
It was all Bellia could do to dump the helmets and push her tent mate’s shoulder.
“Thanks for the fire.” Bellia swayed on her feet. “I’ll be in my bag.”
“Mmmpf,” the sound croaked from Menna’s mouth. She rose, stretched and followed Bellia into the tent.
~
“What’s this?” Bellia awoke to the dulcet tones of the sergeant. She blinked her eyes and stretched. The muscles of her shoulders and biceps ached. She emerged from the tent, having slept in her clothes.
“The new helmets, sergeant.”
“Aren’t they a little big?” She plopped the helmet on her head. The visor just about covered her eyes.
Bellia yawned. “The rear guard wear these knit hats.” She pulled one out of the sack with the scouring sand. “I figured we could filch enough for all of us and use them as a liner. For those with, uh, smaller heads, a couple of them or more should do the trick.”
The sergeant rubbed her shaved head. “Not to mention keep us warmer.” The woman smiled. She ordered another one of the soldiers who had good connections with the quartermasters to conduct the negotiations. She placed some coins in her hand.
Menna struggled out of the tent and walked around a bit to remove the kinks of the night. “I barely noticed them this morning.” She picked one up and put it on her head. “Hey, I like. They’re even lighter than the old ones.”
By now the King’s Swords looked at their new helmets.
“Take one and start polishing them up,” the sergeant said.
“This will help.” Bellia threw the sack of scouring sand on the camp stool that Menna sat in the previous night.
This is for you, sergeant.” Bellia went into her tent and emerged with a helmet. A thin line of gold clung to the edge of the visor. “Careful when you polish it up. The trim could rub off.”
“Thanks, Bellia.” The woman was affected by Bellia’s gesture. “Thanks.” She took a handful of the sand and walked to her tent holding the treasure in her hand.
Menna slid up the Bellia and said softly, “How much did that cost?”
“A gold coin. I don’t care. It was worth it to see the look on the sergeant’s face. She’s a good soldier.”
“So are you. Better than we deserve.” Menna grabbed the last helmet and started to polish.
Bellia could wait to polish her own helmet. She grabbed her mess pot and decided to get in the front of the line for a change. Her stomach cried out for nourishment since she used up a lot of energy making the helmets. She looked forward to her mush, even if it had mutton fat.
The line was thin and moved fast. The King decreed three days of relaxation after the march and many soldiers stayed bundled up in their tents. She stood behind a man wearing an odd hat. Flaps came down to cover his ears. A little ball of wool decorated the top. Bellia thought it looked a little foolish, but she thought flaps with ties or a buckle underneath the chin would keep the helmets from wiggling on the squad’s head.
She tapped him on the shoulder. Astun’s red head suddenly appeared as her friend removed his knit hat. An opportunity, Bellia thought.
“Astun!” Bellia called to his friend.
The quartermaster turned at Bellia’s call and nodded.
Mush with raisins. Bellia smiled. Now if she could get help from Astun, the helmets would be the envy of the First Army.
“I haven’t seen you for days,” Bellia said enjoying her mush.
“We had to move out ahead of all three armies and set this camp up. It may look hodgepodge to you, but its not. Look at my hands.” Astun showed Bellia his blisters.
“I have a favor to ask. Are you still friends with Urt? Is that his name? Do the quartermasters in his team do any leather work?”
“They do. The army needs shoes to walk and belts so they don’t walk with their pants around their ankles.”
Both of them laughed. “Could you come to my courtyard?” Bellia smiled. “I’ve designed a new helmet for our squad and I’d like to put straps on to hold them down.”
“Long knives and helmets. You are a creative blacksmith.”
“The King calls them short swords. I made one for him.”
“I know,” Astun rose from the sandy dirt and brushed off his trousers. “We even had to spread this sand,” he said as he brushed the clinging soil from the seat of his pants.
~
Astun handled a helmet. “It’s a little big.”
“Put on you
r knit hat.”
The redhead covered his hair and then put the helmet on.
“That fits much better. And it’s much more comfortable than the pots you soldiers put on your heads.”
“Notice the wiggle?”
He shook his head no.
Menna took a swipe at the visor and the helmet twisted on Astun’s face.
“See?” Bellia said.
“Can I take one of these with me?”
“That’s the idea. This is mine. Maybe a buckle so it can be cinched up.”
“I remember helmets with chin straps in Togolath. They had a flap where the buckle was cinched over. It kept the buckle from digging into the neck.”
“Great idea. I’ll leave it to you. If it works, I’ll make you one.”
“Not for me. The rear guard doesn’t need helmets. We’ve got our knit caps.” He laughed as he threw his mess pot into the helmet and waved as he started back to the rear area.
“What is a kid like that doing in the army?” Menna said.
“Same as me. Hiding out in his own way as I am in mine.”
Menna snorted. “Yeah, you’re hiding out. You make the King a special sword. You save another King’s life who has you magically healed.”
“You were healed, too.” Bellia objected.
“Uh, huh. Now we’ve got fancy helmets and fight to protect the King’s vantage point. Some cover.” Menna’s voice turned from good-natured taunting to something with a bit more of an edge. “And now Kokota.”
“You’ve got your visor.” Bellia felt Menna was pushing buttons again. Sometime she’d go too far. Bellia walked off trying to find some water to wash out her mess pot.
She had tried to hide out in the army. Learning another set of skills before she set out for Grianna. Unfortunately the army had headed in the wrong direction. It had been some time since she had one of those promptings, so if someone or something had been directing her, they’d been sleeping on the job for a long time.
Bellia was content enough in the army, but she knew that life was precarious in a war. Despite her acquired fighting skills, a crossbow bolt or a thrown spear could end her life in the blink of an eye. She wouldn’t think about that. Bellia had to focus on her job as a soldier for now. The army would return to the north at some point. Then she could begin her quest in earnest.
~
The King rode past the squad who were just about finished packing up. He stopped.
“Sergeant!”
The sergeant ran up to the King’s horse. The squad came to attention where they stood.
“What are you wearing on your head?”
“We decided to modify our headgear, your majesty. Rain won’t run down on our face or necks now, sire. Private Bellia did the work.” The sergeant bowed.
“And I see a little touch of brightness for the sergeant,” General Bowston said. The King nodded, agreeing with the general.
“It wasn’t at my request, your majesty. The soldiers—”
“If they hadn’t done it, I would have ordered it. You deserve the recognition, Lieutenant.”
“Sergeant, sire.”
“Don’t correct your King.” King Rollack called over his shoulder. “The Sergeant is promoted to Lieutenant and Bellia, the helmet maker, is promoted to Sergeant.”
“Carry on.” The King rode forward without another word along with this escort.
Menna came up to Bellia and made her voice whiney. “Sergeant, sir. Can I take a piss?” She guffawed.
“My role doesn’t change. Neither does the sergeant’s,” Bellia said. We’re still a squad.” Menna and Uddo, the wizard, were right. A foul job of hiding out. Bellia felt miserable and promised herself she’d try to continue to maintain a low profile.
~
The King proved Bellia wrong. The King’s Swords expanded to become three squads. The sergeant, now the lieutenant, moved to a different courtyard. Bellia wanted to continue to share her tent with Menna, but the lieutenant ordered her to take over the sergeant’s tent.
“And all because of a little gold trim on a helmet.” Menna said during dinner. Bellia heard the gripe in her voice, but she doubted the King would have stopped at their courtyard to comment on helmets.
~
They were three days out with no sign of the Kokotans. At least sergeants could still eat with their squads.
“Our helmets look better than our new sisters in the King’s Swords. When we line up, the new squads’ helmets just look duller.”
“I used a very good batch of armor sheet. Obviously, the armorers used a lesser grade on their helmets.” It sounded logical when Bellia said it. She wasn’t about to admit she infused a little magic into their metal hats.
Menna grunted. Her promotion had put a gulf between them. Her friend wasn’t as flippant or as cavalier in front of Bellia ever since. As she thought about it some more, she realized the entire squad treated her differently. She didn’t detect a lack of respect, except from Menna. The rest behaved with more reserve when she was near.
Why did the King have to curse her? Her strategy of disappearing in the army wasn’t working as intended and she felt Menna’s friendship slipping away like sand through her fingers. Bellia wished Menna or some other soldier had taken over the squad. She’d gladly give up her position. On top of it all, Bellia didn’t like being in charge. She’d never had to assert herself among the rest of the squad before, but that wouldn’t work now. Being the best among her peers was one thing, ordering them around was another and she hated the isolation.
As they finished their meal, they walked past tables of quartermasters handing out marching rations for three days.
Menna’s shoulders dropped as she left the line. “Three days of sleeping under the stars.” It wasn’t a new complaint, but Bellia felt the mocking edge absent from her words.
“Perhaps we can break out the tents. At least you get to share the load.” That was true. Tent mates could share the load. Sergeants didn’t had to carry their own shelter.
When they returned to their camp, the lieutenant called Bellia and the other sergeants over to her larger tent.
“The armies are splitting up. It’s rather obvious by now that the Kokotan army has made a strategic retreat and now we’re headed for a siege. As it turns out, the Kokotans are not united, but are a collection of city states. There are two principal cities, Piwata and Roanoka. We will attack Piwata. It’s fortified with brick walls four paces thick at the base. The siege engines won’t arrive for another ten days. But we won’t wait. As you know we are the point if there is a wall breach. Without the engines, the infantry will use ladders.”
“We can wait,” a sergeant said.
The lieutenant glared at the woman. “Make sure your soldiers train every day when we arrive at the city. Find anyone in your unit who has fought in a siege and have them train you for breach work. They will be field Seniors.”
Bellia returned to her squad. “We’re headed for a city.”
“A siege?”
She nodded. “Who has fought in a siege?”
“A foul business,” Menna said as she rubbed her neck.
“Then you’ll be the field Senior. You all know I haven’t been in a siege. The lieutenant wants the experienced soldiers to train the rest of the squads in breach tactics. We’ll be training until the siege engines arrive in ten days.”
Menna pulled Bellia aside. “What’s this Senior business? Trying to placate me?”
“I’m trying to train our squad. You’ve talked about your siege glories. I need your experience.”
Menna bit her lower lip and looked the ground. “I’ve never fought in a siege before” She said it nearly in a whisper.
“Do you know breach tactics?”
“I’ve had a bit of training, but I’ve never fought.”
“Teach us what you know. I don’t remember any one else talking about it.”
“Romo has. Maybe she can help me.”
Bellia clapped Menna on h
er shoulder. “I can take care of that, if you can’t. But I’ve got great faith in you.”
“By the way. Remember that gold coin I used for the lieutenant’s helmet? I made a couple of pins with the rest of the coin.” Bellia tossed Menna a gold circle. She showed her friend the outline of a square on her coat. “Astun said we should mark our coats so we know which ones are ours.”
Menna laughed, a welcome sound to Bellia’s ears. “Circle Square.”
“That’s right Circle Square. That’s not all. Why don’t we call ourselves the Blue Scorpions of the King’s Swords?” Bellia’s suggested perked up Menna. The barrier hadn’t been destroyed, but perhaps they might be able to communicate better.
A soldier came up to Bellia and whispered in her ear.
“The lieutenant calls and I must obey.” Bellia had a bit more spring in her step as she left Menna grinning in her wake.
~~~
Chapter Nine
The Siege
~
“Have you all got your trainers in place?” the lieutenant said, eyeing each of her three sergeants. “It would be nice if the General Staff would send over some experienced soldiers, but it appears we are on our own here. It looks like we’ll have to come up with how we’re going to invade the city.”
Bellia nodded, wondering why the lieutenant called them back.
“Do your training. General Bowston has ordered tunnels dug underneath the walls.” The lieutenant looked at her officers. “And before you get your smallclothes soiled, we’re not the ones to do it. The men have already begun. The quartermasters have already begun constructing a roof over the trench. I’ve looked at the scribblings. It’ll have a peaked roof of timbers covered with metal and dirt to keep arrows, rocks and hot oil from stopping the work.”
“But won’t the siege engines do the trick?” a sergeant asked. “The General wants the Kokotans to know we mean business and we’ll get inside that city one way or another.”
Bellia didn’t know much about practical military strategy. It sounded like a good plan. She also didn’t know anything about the Kokotans other than the fact that they were a race apart from the others on the continent of Testia. They were wiry with red or blond hair. At least that was what she read in her ancient books. They originally had come from southern part of the vast plains in the middle of Eustia. As she thought about them, Menna came to mind.