by AC Cobble
Rhys continued probing strikes at Ben while he spoke. “If your opponent is in position to parry your high swing then you go low. Do not plan how you will attack. Instead, attack your opponent’s vulnerabilities and weaknesses. Use your environment. Skilled swordsmen are taught to read your eyes to anticipate a movement so try tricks with the eyes to confuse them. Shift your balance when it won’t throw you off and yell or taunt them. Make them emotional. If you’re not willing to fight dirty, then you shouldn’t be fighting.”
Finally, as the sun began to drop behind the slender towers of The City, Ben flopped down by the wall and leaned back exhausted. He was too tired and in too much pain to even remember the sword forms Rhys was trying to shake him out of.
“Where did you learn all of this?” panted Ben.
“Experience. Lots of experience. Come on, I’ll buy you an ale.”
Mathias was on the way to their table with a pitcher and mugs before they even sat down.
“He teach you anything?” the gruff barkeep asked as he plunked the ale down on the table.
“I spent most of the afternoon falling down and getting hit. So too early to say,” replied Ben with a pained groan. Mathias had grown to be a good friend. He seemed to never leave the Flying Swan and was always willing to make time to speak to Ben.
“My first lesson with him was the same. Pissed me off at the time but it kept me alive through some pretty nasty situations.”
Ben frowned. Rhys had maybe a decade on Ben but Mathias had at least the same on Rhys.
“He trained you? Uh, when was that?” inquired Ben.
Mathias snorted, “you don’t ask an old war dog like me specifics. We like to talk in generalities and everything before I bought this Inn is ‘back then’. Whether I was a young pup or making my last march, it’s all the same time to me now.”
“I told you I had experience,” added Rhys with a wink. Then he grinned and said to Mathias, “I don’t remember you ever being a young pup.”
Early the next morning, Ben was rousted out of bed by a heavy banging on his door. He, Mathias and Rhys had put down a few more ales and he got a little tipsy, but he stopped himself before he could be called drunk. As he stretched out the soreness from Rhys’ training and winced at the more severe bruises, he was glad he’d learned at least one thing from his time with Rhys. Don’t try to match the man drink for drink.
“I’m coming,” he cried coarsely and crossed his tiny apartment in a few steps to the door.
He peeked through a gap in the door frame and saw Reinhold’s mustachioed blonde guard Henrick standing impatiently.
When Ben opened the door Henrick barked, “glad you survived whatever it was he put you through yesterday. Get dressed and pack for travel. Bring your sword. We found where Gulli has been hiding.”
Against Henrick’s protests, Ben swung by the warehouse on the way to Reinhold’s estate north of The City. Renfro and many of the others clamored to go with them but Ben insisted everyone stay and continue to work like any normal day. The customers weren’t going to care about a delay to settle scores.
Renfro pulled Ben aside. “Come on Ben, if anyone is going it should be me. They nearly killed me!”
Ben smiled then poked a finger into Renfro’s newly healed arm and the little thief winced in pain. “You can’t go out there with that. If anyone came at you there’s no way you could defend yourself.”
“We’ll be behind Reinhold’s men,” argued Renfro. “They’re professionals and I have no intention of getting in their way.” Renfro sighed and rubbed the spot Ben had poked, “but I get your point. Just promise me, we’ll get justice for Evan and what they did to me.”
“I don’t think we need to worry about that. I think Reinhold wants to use this to settle things with Gulli once and for all.”
“You better go,” Renfro nodded towards Henrick and clapped his good hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I think he’s going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t get you to the estate soon. Good luck Ben.”
Reinhold’s estate was two bell’s worth of brisk walking from the boundaries of The City.
“I’m surprised Reinhold comes out here very often,” muttered Ben as he matched Henrick’s quick pace. The guard didn’t have any sympathy for the sword practice or drinking Ben had done the previous day.
“This estate is closer to The City than most,” replied the guard. “He keeps a place in town and only comes out here when he wants to relax. Or marshal forces I guess. Besides, when he comes out he rides a horse.”
Horses were almost exclusively used for commerce. It was too expensive to keep and feed one for any other purpose. Keeping one stabled in The City was ludicrous. Ben imagined spending the gold wasn’t really a problem for Reinhold though. He decided he was right when they finally made it to the expansive manicured grounds of Reinhold’s country estate. It was even more impressive on land than it had been from the river. The entire thing was encircled by a low stone wall and it must have covered the same area as the Sanctuary.
As far as Ben could see across the gently rolling hills there were little bits of carefully placed trees and bushes with the occasional small structure he supposed was for resting while strolling the massive grounds. He could also see little foot bridges that could have been crossing an unseen stream meandering through the property.
The estate itself was behind an imposing stone and iron gate that rose ominously up from the low walls and a thicket of colorful flowers that surrounded it’s base. A cobblestone path lead to a huge building that Ben thought was more appropriately labeled as a castle than a country estate. 10 Flying Swan Inns could fit inside the thing and the marble clad walls looked like they could withstand a barrage of trebuchet or catapult fire for a week.
Ben was so focused on the estate that he missed the handful of guards standing by the gate. To Henrick one called, “glad you made it. Looks like the Lord will be ready to march in half a bell. They’re staging over by the festival grounds.”
To Ben he smirked, “first time here?”
“Uh, yeah. Nice place.”
“Come on,” said Henrick. “Bodas was supposed to bring my pack but he’s a lazy ass. I need to check things over before we leave. Shouldn’t be gone more than a few days but if I get on the road with no socks I’m going to kill that fool.”
The festival grounds turned out to be a wide open flat grassy area and it was packed full of milling men adjusting packs and checking weapons. There were about one hundred of them and they were all decked out in Reinhold’s livery. Most wore light chain mail and had swords strapped to their sides. A few carried spears and bows as well and one massive brutish looking man leaned against a wicked battle axe that was taller than Ben.
“Stay away from him,” advised Henrick. “That’s Gra. Reinhold got him from some southern island and they haven’t really tamed him yet. He carries that damn axe everywhere and is always looking for excuses to use it. After the first week he joined, Reinhold banned him from The City and keeps him up here. There were some incidents. When things get hot, he’s just as likely to take your or my head off as Gulli’s.”
The rest of the men seemed friendly enough though and Henrick turned out to be a squad leader. Ben surmised he’d been with Reinhold for many years and was now trusted with more than keeping trespassers off the property.
“You’ll march with my squad and if it gets hairy you stay behind us,” explained Henrick. “I know you think you know how to use that blade but leave this to us. I expect Gulli’s thugs will throw down their weapons as soon as they see us, but you never know.”
“Of course,” answered Ben. “I have no problem watching from the back.”
“Good.”
Shortly, Reinhold appeared out of the estate and they started to march. With a glance, Ben saw how Reinhold wanted this to end. The Lord was decked out just like his men in chainmail and had an elegant looking long sword strapped to his back. Whether he really knew how to use it or not, Ben didn’t ask. Hi
s grim face told all that needed to be known.
Ben wasn’t comfortable with how this expedition was going but he didn’t think there was anything he could do to stop it. In The City, Reinhold was a polished urbane merchant banker. Now, he looked every bit the bloodthirsty warlord. Ben hoped Gulli’s men did throw down their weapons quickly because Reinhold was going to take any excuse to slaughter all of them.
They had gotten a report that Gulli was holed up in a town called Arrath and one day into the march they got confirmation from a second rider Reinhold sent immediately after hearing the first report. Gulli only had a dozen of his thugs with him and his household staff. The rest of his men were assumed to have quit and run for the hills when they realized who they’d pissed off.
The rider rested with the group then started scouting ahead on his horse. Reinhold rode at the head of the column but the rest of them walked.
Arrath was another two days travel. The plan was to move into the woods surrounding it and gather further intelligence on where exactly Gulli was. With one hundred heavily armed and trained men, they could easily overrun the entire town if need be, but no one thought that would be necessary. The town people of Arrath would be happy to give up Gulli in exchange for Reinhold’s good will and gold.
The first night on the road Ben huddled around a small camp fire with the men in Henrick’s squad. They had the confidence of men who were with one hundred of their peers but there was still a little nervous excitement in the group.
“The pay is good but you don’t see much action with Reinhold,” explained one of the younger men. “I spend most of my time patrolling the border of the estate. Been doing it a year and haven’t seen anyone trying to come in yet. Unless you count deer and birds,” he snorted.
“Working in town isn’t any better. You spend all day in the lobby of the Lord’s tower or following him around to meetings which is even worse,” chided another of the men.
“Yeah, but at least there’s something to do at night! Go out, meet some friendly ladies and show em a good time. There’s only so long you can spend watching Gra practice with that damn axe before you start to lose your mind.”
“Well, at least this will be a little excitement. Who knows, maybe they’ll try to put up a fight.”
The morning of the third day the squad leaders strode around the camp kicking awake the late sleepers and shouting for everyone to get ready. They stopped early the previous night and were two bells outside of Arrath. Far enough that word of their approach wouldn’t be known in the town yet. “Look alive boys, this is real action, we’re not hiding the mistresses from each other today!”
Henrick gestured to Ben and the young guard who’d been speaking the other night, “you two stay back. At least a hundred paces. Soan, make sure Ben doesn’t engage.”
“What!” exclaimed the young guard with a scowl on his face. “I’m supposed to be at the front with the rest of the squad.” Ben had never seen a heavily armed and armored man pouting before. It wasn’t very becoming.
“You’re supposed to do what I say,” growled Henrick. “How about this, you keep Ben out of it and you get City duty for a month when we get back.”
Mollified, the young guard looked at Ben and shrugged. “Sorry, guess we walked up here for nothing.”
Ben knew where Henrick’s orders were coming from but he didn’t know what he could do to change them. Ben had been the voice of reason before. He’d argued to keep Red alive and he’d hesitated about some of Reinhold’s methods of interrogation when they were still looking for Gulli. He suspected Reinhold wasn’t interested in hearing a voice of reason today.
Fair enough he thought. Gulli’s men had tried to injure or kill Ben and Renfro. If they were too stupid to see how outnumbered they were today, they’d pay the price. He hoped they threw down but this situation was out of Ben’s control.
His thought was confirmed when Reinhold made his rounds to encourage the men.
Reinhold laid a hand on Ben’s shoulder, “after today Ben, you will become a wealthy man. The ale trade in The City is going to be wide open and we’re positioned to take advantage. Whether it’s with a quill and ink or a sword and spear, there is nothing like beating an opponent and relishing your success. I’ll teach you this. Tonight, we drink the finest wine and ale Arrath has to offer and we discuss our partnership. You’re a little soft, but I like you. I see a young me in you and we’re going to do great things together.”
Reinhold’s glassy eyes spoke to the fine wine he’d already been enjoying that morning. The perfectly polished silver pommel of his sword peeking from above his shoulder spoke to how little he was involved in real combat. One thing Reinhold said was true though, he didn’t care if it was quill and ink or sword and spear. He just truly enjoyed beating someone. Today he was going to beat Gulli and he was already celebrating.
Soon after he spoke to Reinhold, Ben saw a rider come into camp. Suddenly, shouts went up for everyone to get their gear and get moving.
Henrick jogged back from a meeting with the other squad leaders and explained, “we sent a man into town last night and he spotted Gulli at the inn. Our man says Gulli is holed up there and seems to think no one will notice him. We’ll be done with this by lunch,” he finished with confidence.
The troop started marching and Ben and the young guard dutifully fell back a hundred paces. Ben decided he was fine with that. The men were psyching themselves up for blood and whatever Gulli’s men did, their Lord was unlikely to survive this day. The certain and unnecessary bloodshed made Ben queasy. He, Renfro and Evan had been the victims of the attack but Reinhold had taken to the cause like it had been him. The situation had been escalated too far by both sides to turn back now. It never needed to come to this place.
“I hear you brew an excellent ale,” began the young guard. “Maybe when we get back you can show me around to some good taverns. These older guards just sit around the barracks dicing all evening. I want to go out and meet some women. You’ve got to be in these taverns all day, right? You can show me which places have the pretty girls?”
“Sure, when we get back,” sighed Ben.
The terrain around Arrath was heavily wooded. The rolling hills near the river turned into steep ridges and valleys. The road to Arrath humped over the ridges as it skirted the foot of a small mountain chain. Arrath itself, according to Henrick’s sketch in the dirt the night before, was located in a narrow valley and it was a tin mining town. Business couldn’t have been very good thought Ben. They hadn’t seen another traveler or a merchant in two days. All the better for their purposes though, they needed the element of surprise to prevent Gulli from running out into the forest.
A hundred paces back, they started losing sight of the troop as the road climbed and dropped over the ridges. Ben wasn’t worried, there was only one way to go and no one was getting around all of Reinhold’s men.
If it wasn’t for the mission they were on, it would be a pleasant walk. The early fall weather was refreshing after summer in The City and the woods around them were peaceful.
“Hurry up,” pressed the young guard. “We may not be able to engage but I want to watch.”
They crested a hill and saw the troop strung out on the road before them. Reinhold and the other rider, his scout, were in the lead and everyone else was marching in rows of four. The household guard was making a good show of looking like a real army unit thought Ben.
Then he paused. He caught a glimpse of movement in trees below them on the ridge. Ben grabbed the young guard’s arm and pointed down.
“What?” asked the guard.
A dark grey clad man stepped out of the trees and flapped a bright red handkerchief.
“Who is that?” continued the guard.
“I don’t…”
An animal cry broke the quiet of the forest and Ben saw Reinhold’s horse buck upwards sending the Lord tumbling over it’s back.
Instantly, the forest became alive with swarms of grey clad figures burs
ting from the undergrowth and charging into Reinhold’s men. A volley of arrows arced over their heads as they hit Reinhold’s line.
Ben swept his blade from his scabbard and stepped forward but the young guard pulled him back. Without saying anything, they both saw the fight was over before it started.
Reinhold’s men were outnumbered, surprised and overwhelmed quickly. But they didn’t all go down without a fight. Ben saw the axeman Gra step out of the line and meet the charge head on. Muscles bulging he cleaved through the first wave of the grey clad men like they were blades of grass. Within heartbeats though he was surrounded and sprouting several arrows from his back. He kept churning and surged forward into the midst of his enemies to cut down several more.
“Oh shit,” the young guard mumbled, “Lord Jason.”
A pony tailed blonde man walked up to Gra and smoothly ducked under the spinning axe then casually sliced the big man open from groin to neck. Without pausing, the newcomer plunged into the thick of the battle and Reinhold’s men perished in his wake.
Ben turned to the young guard but the man had broken into a full sprint back down the road and away from the battle.
“Lord Jason?” Ben asked himself aloud. “The Coalition’s Lord Jason?”
He looked back to the battle and quickly realized he needed to move too. Reinhold’s men in the span of a few breaths had been wiped out. The grey clad men were covering the road and ruthlessly dispatching any survivors. Ben jumped to the side of the road and sank down amongst the tall grasses there. He started wiggling closer to the forest but could still clearly see the road below.