Sigwulf smiled. “Be thankful you had that. Back in Braymoor, we often went for days with no food. Why, I remember one time when we had to resort to eating rats.”
Ludwig looked at him in surprise, but the big man couldn’t maintain the facade. He broke into a laugh. “Well, maybe I’m exaggerating a little.”
“A little?” said Cyn. “How about a lot? When did you ever eat rats, Siggy?”
Sigwulf looked offended. “What about Walgarten?”
“That wasn’t a rat,” she replied, “that was a stoat.”
“They’re similar?”
“No they’re not,” said Cyn, fighting to suppress a grin. “They’re ‘stoataly’ different!” She let out a laugh, unable to contain it any further.
“Are you done?” said Sigwulf.
She halted to catch her breath, leading her to fall behind them, if only momentarily.
“Is she always like this?” asked Ludwig.
“Yes,” said Sigwulf. His tone was serious, but the look on his face said otherwise. “It’s one of her most endearing qualities.”
“Is it normal for us to march first? I would have thought the baron would have liked to lead us.”
“His Lordship doesn’t want to leave us alone in Mulsingen, even for a morning.”
“Does he not trust us?”
“No. There have been too many incidents of free companies turning against their employer.”
“I thought mercenaries were highly regarded.”
Sigwulf let out a guffaw. “Surely you jest?”
Ludwig was confused. “But aren’t we professional warriors?”
Cyn chose that moment to catch up to them. “What are we talking about?”
“Ludwig here was under the impression mercenaries were held in high regard.”
“Some are,” she said, “but even the best-intentioned of captains can let their troops get the better of them.”
“I’m not sure I follow?” said Ludwig.
“She means the troops get out of hand.”
“Yes,” said Cyn. “Like at Halmund. It very nearly brought the wrath of the Church upon them.”
“The Church?”
“Yes, the Temple Knights take a dim view of such things amongst the cities of the Petty Kingdoms. Mind you, they have no such qualms about doing the same to their enemies.”
“What enemies does the Church have?”
Cyn frowned. “Where have you been for the last few years? Forgotten the Crusades, have you?”
“Oh yes, of course,” said Ludwig. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“A common trait, it would appear,” muttered Cyn.
“Pardon?”
“I said we set a fast rate. The sky is clear. What was it you wanted to know?”
“I was curious about the Crossed Swords,” said Ludwig. “From your description, they’d obviously been formed some years ago. Was your father always their captain?”
“No,” replied Cyn. “He was there when they first formed and more or less worked his way up to captain.”
“What happened to them? I heard they were forced to disband.”
“Where did you hear that?”
“Captain Ecke.”
“I suppose most of what he said was likely true, but I’ll give you the story from my perspective. At the time, the company was in the employ of a baron, much like we are now. He’d hired us to put an end to a group of bandits who had been terrorizing the area.”
“And were you successful?” asked Ludwig.
“We were, actually, but when it came time to collect what we were due, His Lordship refused to pay. The company had been waiting for three months, and the stores had run low, so my father did the only thing he could; he raided the local countryside looking for food.”
“I'm sure the baron didn’t appreciate that.”
“That’s putting it mildly," said Cyn. "Next thing you know, the baron’s complained to the king, and then royal troops were sent to chase us down.”
“That must have been awful.”
“Awful doesn’t begin to describe it. They captured my father and several others. Have you any idea what it’s like to watch your own father hanged?”
“No,” said Ludwig. “It must have been terrible.”
“It was,” said Cyn. “Shortly after that, Siggy and I fled Braymoor.”
“What brought you here to Erlingen?”
“Chance, mostly. As we got closer, we heard tell of the Grim Defenders and sought them out. It just happened Captain Ecke had served with my father years ago.”
“A happy coincidence, then?”
“I don’t know if I’d call it happy,” said Sigwulf, “but it gave us some stability. There’s not many employment opportunities for a pair of sell-swords in these parts.”
“I would have thought a position as bodyguards would have been ideal,” said Ludwig.
“Probably, but people want someone they can trust in such a role, and, being foreigners, we had little in the way of reputation.”
“And that brought us here,” said Cyn. “Now you know everything.”
“Everything except where my next meal is coming from.”
“Now, that,” said Sigwulf, “I can answer. The baron has wagons full of food that he’s providing for us. I hear he sets a fine table.”
“If he does,” said Cyn, “it’s not likely one we’ll be invited to.”
Sigwulf turned defensive. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Only that those wagons are probably for the baron’s men, not us.”
“But he wouldn’t sit back and let us starve, would he?” said Ludwig.
“Wouldn’t he?” said Cyn. “I’m not so sure of that.”
“I can understand your distrust of nobles,” said Ludwig, “particularly taking into account your father’s story, but to hire a company and then not feed them feels unlikely, to say the least.”
“We’re not his household troops. I doubt he even cares. He’s paid us, and now he wants us to fight—nothing else matters.”
“For what it’s worth,” said Sigwulf, “I disagree. I think it likely food will be provided. After all, the baron wants this whole situation resolved before the end of the week. He can’t do that if we’re half-starved.”
“Can’t he?” said Cyn. “Care to place a wager on that?”
“Come on, you two,” said Ludwig. “Let’s not argue over something that’s out of our hands.”
“I’m not arguing,” said Cyn, “merely stating a point of fact.”
“As am I,” added Sigwulf. He turned to look at Cyn. “Does he honestly believe we’re fighting?”
“He does."
“I shall have to have a talk with him.”
“I’m right here,” said Ludwig.
They both looked at him as if seeing him for the first time.
“So you are,” said Sigwulf.
Ludwig shook his head. This was going to be a long march.
* * *
That evening they were fed bread along with cheese gathered from local farms. It was not the freshest of food but more than sufficient to fill them, and they went to bed with their stomachs full.
Morning came far too early for Ludwig’s liking. He had his tent packed up in record time, but the company was told to hold back.
“What’s happening?” he asked as Captain Ecke approached.
“We’re waiting,” their leader replied. “This road takes us into the Barony of Regnitz, and Lord Gebhard wants to be the first to cross into his enemy's lands.”
“And where is His Lordship?”
“Behind us,” said Ecke. “Likely still having breakfast.” He wandered off, far too preoccupied to continue with the conversation.
“What do you make of that?” said Cyn.
Sigwulf shrugged. “It makes no difference to me. If the baron wants his fat arse to cross the border first, then so be it.”
“It’s not a border,” corrected Cyn. “Both barons are still in the
same kingdom.”
“Well, whatever you call it, it’s still fine.”
“Look at that,” said Ludwig, pointing. The baron’s men had finally appeared. They were shuffling along the road, sweating in the early morning sun despite the cool air.
“They look like they’re ready to die,” said Sigwulf.
“They’re not used to marching,” said Cyn. “I doubt they march more than a few hundred yards when they’re in garrison.”
Sigwulf laughed. “Yes, the distance between their rooms and the dining hall.”
“Now, now,” said Ludwig. “We shouldn’t disparage them. They are our allies after all.”
Sigwulf sobered. “You’re right, Saints help us. This doesn’t bode well.” He turned to Cyn. “Can you imagine any of those men climbing a ladder to assault the wall?”
“I can barely imagine them marching,” she replied, “yet here they are.”
They watched in silence as the men passed by.
“I suppose we should get moving,” said Ludwig.
“There’s no hurry,” said Sigwulf. “We’ll catch up to that lot in no time.”
A bellow urged them to move, and then Baldric and his men began marching by.
“I suppose this means we’re bringing up the rear,” said Cyn.
Sigwulf waited until they had passed, then assembled his half company. They marched out at a slow pace, determined to conserve their strength for the afternoon.
In theory, the road between Mulsingen and Regnitz was straight, but whoever had mapped the area had made no allowance for the hills that dotted the region. As a result, the road wandered, never going straight for more than a mile.
* * *
The weather warmed considerably, giving the first hint that summer was right around the corner. All in all, it was a good day for marching: not too hot and not too cold.
Late in the afternoon, Sigwulf halted his men. They had picked up the pace considerably, but now the baron's men were lagging, causing the mercenaries in the rear to bunch up, interfering with their march. Baldric kept pressing on, cursing and swearing to no end, but Sigwulf decided to halt his men and give them a rest.
Thus it was they found themselves sitting by the roadside when the newcomer arrived seated upon a dappled grey mare, dressed in grey himself, making him look like some form of ghostly apparition. Upon spotting the resting mercenaries, he slowed, then turned his horse towards them.
“Hello?” he called out.
Sigwulf stood. “Can I help you?”
“I would most definitely hope so,” the man replied, his voice betraying his educated manner. “I seek a man named Gottfried Jager. I understand he’s a captain?”
Ludwig turned to Sigwulf. “That’s the siege expert the baron hired.”
“He’s up the road,” said the sergeant, “but you’ll have to pass through this army to find him.”
“A pity,” said the newcomer. “I was hoping to get something to eat.”
“And who are you, exactly?” asked Cyn.
“My name is Linden Herzog. I’m an Earth Mage.”
Ludwig laughed. “An Earth Mage? Why don’t you simply conjure yourself a rabbit to eat? That’s what you people do, isn’t it? Work with animals?”
The man chose to take offence. “Is that what you think? I’ll have you know the magic of the earth can do much more than summon animals.”
“Oh, yes? Like what?”
“Well, for one thing, we can manipulate stone. What would you prefer to do, climb a wall or have it turn to dirt?”
Ludwig’s eyes widened. “You can do that?”
“I can do a great many things.”
“If I give you some food, will you tell me more?”
The man grinned. “I would be delighted.”
“Shouldn’t we send him up to the baron?” asked Cyn.
Sigwulf shrugged. “We can’t very well send him off hungry, now, can we?”
Ludwig dug into his sling bag, producing some bread. He offered it to Linden.
The mage took it, breaking off a small piece and popping it into his mouth. He barely chewed it before swallowing. “Ah,” he said at last, “mana from the Afterlife.”
“I don’t reckon he’s eaten in days,” noted Cyn.
“You would be correct,” said Linden. “I have been riding hard, and Clay is as exhausted as I.”
“Clay?” she said.
“Yes, my horse.” He saw the look of confusion. “Note the colouring?”
“Yes,” said Ludwig. “We can all see your horse is grey, nevertheless, you must admit Clay is an unusual name.”
“Agreed, but it suits her. Like Clay, she has a malleable personality.”
Linden Herzog dismounted, allowing Ludwig to take the reins.
“She’s a fine beast," said Ludwig. "Have you had her long?”
“Nearly a year. Why do you ask?”
“I have a passing familiarity with horses.”
“And yet you march on foot,” said the mage. “I sense there's an air of mystery to you.” He broke off another piece of bread.
Sigwulf laughed. “You might say that of everyone in the Grim Defenders.”
“The Grim Defenders? Who are they?”
“That’s us,” explained Ludwig. “We’re a mercenary group.”
“Indeed? How fascinating.” The mage chewed some bread, then swallowed. “Have you anything to drink?”
“Here,” said Ludwig, passing him a waterskin.
The mage unstoppered it, then drank heavily.
“Does your horse need water?”
The mage belched. “My pardon. No, my horse watered itself at a stream.”
“And you didn’t think to water yourself?”
“And drink from runoff from these fields? Have you no sense, sir?”
Ludwig wanted to tell him he had likely filled his waterskin from the exact same stream but chose instead to withhold that information.
“So if you can manipulate stone, why does the baron need us?”
Linden handed back the waterskin. “Someone has to get me to the wall and then protect me while I work my magic.”
“I’m not sure I follow. Don’t you just cast a spell, and the wall comes down?”
“My good fellow, you know nothing of magic.”
“Feel free to explain.”
The mage looked pleased. “I should be delighted. You see, a spell like that requires me to be in close proximity to the target.”
“How close?” asked Ludwig.
“I must be able to touch it.”
“And then you can collapse it?”
“No, pardon me if I gave you that impression. The spell, when cast, softens the stone, allowing me to manipulate it.”
“Softens it?”
“Yes, it takes on the consistency of clay.”
“Then why couldn’t we dig through it?”
“No, it’s much more complicated than that. You see, I, as the caster, am the only one who can perceive that change. To anyone else, it would still appear as solid stone.”
“So then you have to shape it?”
Linden smiled. “There, you have it now. I can only manipulate a small amount at a time, so I can’t just open up an entire wall.”
“But you could create a hole big enough to crawl through?”
“Exactly.”
“I can see why the baron called on you.”
The mage blushed. “Ah, well, therein lies the rub. It wasn’t the baron who sent for me. Rather, it was Gottfried Jager. I have no idea if the baron wishes to employ me or not.”
“But surely if he were aware of your powers?”
“They are spells, not powers, and require a significant amount of concentration, not to mention years of study.”
“Still,” pressed Ludwig, “if you can get us inside…”
“Let us hope the baron sees reason. In the meantime, I shall have my horse back, if you would be so kind.”
“Certainly,” said Ludwi
g, passing over the reins, “and good luck with the baron.”
Linden Herzog climbed into the saddle. “Thank you. Now I must be off. I shall look you up once the siege begins. Our co-operation will be the key to victory, I think.” He rode off without further discussion.
“What do you make of that?” said Cyn.
“An interesting individual,” said Ludwig. “I wonder what the baron will make of him?”
“Let’s not get our hopes up,” said Sigwulf. “I have a feeling Lord Gebhard will not be easily convinced of his value.”
* * *
The first sign they were nearing their destination came late in the afternoon when thick black smoke billowed in the sky off in the distance, far more than could be expected from campfires. As they rounded a hill, a burning farm came into view, with a couple of the baron’s men taking an axe to a cow, while the rest stood around watching, perhaps mesmerized by the flames.
As they passed, Ludwig noticed the bodies of the poor peasants who had lived there. They had been slaughtered by the baron’s men, and he wondered what anger Lord Gebhard must have against his neighbour to conduct war against him in such a manner.
Cyn saw him staring. “Terrible, isn’t it?”
“Unfortunate to be sure,” added Sigwulf, “but it's the fate of peasants to live or die at the whims of the nobility.”
“What is it that drives the baron to take such action?” asked Ludwig. “If he means to capture the keep, wouldn't he want the farms to continue to produce?”
“I doubt he intends to hold Regnitz Keep,” said Sigwulf. “More likely, he wishes to destroy it, hence the carnage here.”
“So he’s simply going to lay waste to everything?”
“We are mercenaries. We hire on to whoever pays us. It's not our place to question the motives of nobles.”
“I disagree,” said Ludwig. “War brings unnecessary cruelty. We should fight with honour.”
“Honour? You know so little of battle,” said Sigwulf. “Honour has no place there. It's a cesspit of murder and mayhem.”
“But it doesn’t have to be.”
“He’s right,” added Cyn. “War should be between soldiers, not taking things out on poor farmers.”
“We live in an age of near constant warfare,” said Sigwulf. “People are inured to it.”
Warrior Knight Page 13