Determined to stop the insanity, he called out in the loudest voice he could. “Stop, in the name of Duke Heinrich!”
At the invocation of their leader's name, the fighting ceased. Combatants glared at each other but lowered their weapons.
“Get back to your camp,” ordered Ludwig, “or I’ll get the duke’s own men down here, and we’ll begin executions.”
The two sides separated, and men began hurrying back to their respective sides of the stream. Ludwig shook his head, not quite believing what he had witnessed. Instead of fighting amongst themselves, his men had decided to go after their allies. What could possibly be next?
Sigwulf and Cyn soon found him. The big sergeant was huffing and puffing, but his smaller counterpart was like a fox with a mouse.
“That was fun!” she said.
“Fun?” said Ludwig. “Is that what you call it?”
Sigwulf smiled. “Well, it wasn’t a total disaster.” He smacked Ludwig on the arm and then pointed. Ludwig looked to see a couple of Wulfram’s men helping another back to camp, a man wearing Lord Gebhard's colours.
“It looks like all they needed was a common foe,” said Sigwulf.
“I still say we could have taken them,” said Cyn.
Ludwig smiled. “Likely, but we’ll need them to fight the invaders.”
In answer, Cyn looked at the retreating mercenaries of the Blades of Vengeance. She held up her hand, extending her middle finger. “This is for you,” she yelled.
“You’d better get her back to camp,” Ludwig told Sigwulf, “before she decimates them.”
They returned to a far different scene. Soldiers now mingled freely, offering words of encouragement to the wounded and sharing drinks with their former rivals. The Grim Defenders, not to be outdone, told tales of their own, highlighting the unending dispute between themselves and the Blades of Vengeance.
Ludwig collapsed by the fire, feeling drained by the ordeal. All he wanted was to shut his eyes and fall asleep, but the approach of a horse interfered. Looking up, he discovered Lord Hagan Stein staring down at him.
“What was all the commotion about?” he asked.
“Nothing, my lord, merely the men being a bit rambunctious. It's all been settled.”
Hagan scowled, an action that was not lost on Ludwig.
“Is something wrong, my lord?”
“No, nothing,” the lord snapped. He paused as if wanting to say more but then clenched his mouth shut. Turning his horse, he sped off without another word.
“What was that all about?” asked Sigwulf.
“I don’t know,” replied Ludwig, “but I aim to find out.”
He stood, but his legs felt weak.
“Sit,” said Sigwulf.
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing,” added Cyn. “It’s only the wine.”
Ludwig sat, his eyes seeking out his discarded cup. “What did you put in that?”
“Just the usual,” she said, “except for some substitutions, of course.”
“What kinds of substitutions?”
“Nothing too dangerous. You've had mushroom wine before, haven’t you?”
“Mushrooms? I hope they weren’t poisonous.”
“No, of course not,” said Cyn. “At least I don’t think so.”
“You don’t THINK so?”
“Well, it was dark by the time we made camp, so I can’t be sure.”
“You mean you might have poisoned us?”
Sigwulf burst out in laughter. “She had you going there for a moment, but I can’t let this continue. Relax, Ludwig, there’s nothing dangerous about the wine.”
“Then why are my legs shaking?”
“It’s a side effect. Let’s just say you’ll sleep well tonight, shall we?”
“Then I must return to my blanket.” He felt his eyes closing despite his best attempts to keep them open. The next thing he knew, he was lying on his side, a blanket laid over him, and then he fell into a deep sleep.
* * *
Ludwig opened his eyes to the bright morning sun glaring down upon him. All around him, the encampment was a bustle of activity as men gathered their gear and hastily downed what food they had. Ludwig sat up, instantly regretting his haste.
“He’s awake,” came Cyn’s voice.
A shadow hovered over him. “Here,” said Sigwulf, “have some water. It’ll help.”
Ludwig downed the cup, then rose, finding his legs up to the task this time. “Let’s not do that again, all right?”
Sigwulf laughed. “Fine with me, my friend.”
Everyone was full of energy this morning, eager to be on their way. Old enemies were now firm friends united in their distaste of the Blades of Vengeance. Who would have thought something like that was even possible?
“Let Captain Ecke know the men will march together, would you?” asked Ludwig. “Now, where’s my horse?”
“Come on,” said Sigwulf. “I’ll help you find him, not that he’s much of a mount though.”
“He’s all I’ve got.”
“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“I must talk to Hagan,” said Ludwig. “Something's up, and I need to get to the bottom of it.”
It didn’t take long to find Clay. The horse was standing in a field, nibbling away at some tufts of grass, ignoring the activity around him. Sigwulf helped saddle the beast, and then Ludwig was on his way, searching out Lord Hagan.
It took him some time to pick his way through the rest of the army, for not every company was so eager to be on the road. Ludwig had to investigate every group of horsemen he came across in his quest to find the younger Stein until he finally found his prey.
Lord Hagan rode with Lord Kruger while the baron’s men marched behind them. Ludwig spurred on his horse, coming up alongside them.
“Lord Hagan,” he called out. “I wonder if I might have a word?”
“What is it?” snapped Hagan. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“My pardon, Lord, but there are matters which require your attention. You are, after all, commander of the company.”
This statement appeared to mollify the man. “Very well, what is it?”
“I wonder if we might speak in private, my lord? It is of a delicate nature.”
Lord Kruger smiled. “Go ahead,” he said. “You can always catch up to me later. It’s not as if I’m difficult to find.”
“My apologies, my lord," said Hagan. "I shall return shortly.”
“Take your time. There’s no hurry.”
Ludwig led him off the road and to the edge of the woods, far from prying eyes. Halting Clay, he turned to face his commander.
“I feel there's a distance between us,” began Ludwig. “I would have it brought out into the open.”
“To what end?”
“We are marching to battle, my lord. Is it not best to do so without distractions?”
“Speak, and I will listen.”
“It's not I who must speak, but you, my lord. What is it that vexes you so?”
Hagan’s face twisted into a fury. “You! You’re the problem, Ludwig.”
“Me? How am I the problem?”
“You’re the one who gets everything your heart desires: knighthood, command, even women!”
Ludwig felt his heart jump into his throat. Women? What was Hagan talking about? He tried to reason it through and then remembered his talk with Rosalyn. This fool must have mistaken her conversation for an expression of love.
“Is this about Rosalyn?” he asked.
“You know it is,” said Hagan. “I would know your designs on her.”
“I have none, my lord, other than friendship. She is like a sister to me.”
“I wish I could believe you.”
“It is you who she desires, Lord, not me.”
Hagan’s face softened, but still, there was a threat lurking behind those eyes.
“I swear by the spirit of Saint Mathew, I speak the truth, Lord. I
have no interest in her of a romantic nature.”
Hagan visibly relaxed. “I’m sorry,” he said, most unexpectedly. “I fear my heart rules where my head should prevail. I have never been so captivated by a woman in all my life. When I saw her with you the other day…”
“She was, in truth, looking for you,” said Ludwig.
“But I saw her give you a present.”
“A reward for saving her life back in Regnitz, nothing more.” He reached into his tunic, pulling forth the book of prayers. “Here, see for yourself.”
Hagan took it, flipping through the pages. He finally handed it back. “It appears I have acted churlish. I do apologize.”
“There's nothing to apologize for, my lord. Your heart was wounded.”
“I envy you, Ludwig. You have such an easy way with the men.”
“All of my life, I have dreamed of leading them,” said Ludwig, “but now, I fear, I am not up to the task.”
“How can you say that? You've brought the company together, while all I could do was run away and hide. It is I who have failed.”
“It doesn’t have to be that way,” said Ludwig. "If you take a more active role in the company, I'll show you how to gain their respect.”
“You think that possible? I’m not a knight, nor a seasoned warrior, and truth be told, not much of a swordsman either. The men would soon see through my inexperience.”
“All the more reason for you to let me help you.”
“You would do that?”
“Of course,” said Ludwig.
“Why?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Why would you help me? What could possibly be in it for you?”
“I’m not from Erlingen,” said Ludwig, “nor do I have any desire to settle here. When this war is over, I'll return to my home, in Hadenfeld, to be reunited with my father. These men who march for us are simple folk. They don’t fight for the duke. They fight for their families and their way of life. All they want is to return home alive and in one piece. I made a promise to myself that I would do my utmost to make sure that happens.”
“You cannot promise such a thing,” said Hagan. “It's beyond the purview of any one man.”
“True,” said Ludwig, “but I can do everything in my power to give them a fighting chance, and that’s all they can hope for.”
He could see the young lord's interest piqued. “Is that all it takes?”
“I wish,” said Ludwig. “Look, there’s more to leading men than simply wishing them well. We train them, teach them to use their weapons to the best of their ability. The more confident they grow, the better their chances of surviving.”
“But I cannot fight,” said Hagan. “Not with any real skill, that is.”
“YOU don’t have to. That’s what the sergeants are for. All you have to do is take an interest. Watch them train, compliment their progress, even if you don’t see it.”
“To what end?”
“To encourage them, Hagan. What do you look for in a leader?”
“A man of power."
“And what does that mean, precisely?”
The younger Stein opened his mouth to respond but struggled to find an answer. “I suppose I don’t really know.”
“True leadership is about inspiring your troops, and that can take many forms. You’d be surprised what a single word of encouragement can do. Did your father ever compliment you?”
“He has, on occasion.”
“And how did that make you feel?”
Hagan straightened in the saddle. “Proud.”
“There you have it. Make the men feel proud, Hagan. That’s the secret to leading them.”
“And the rest? How do I make them fight?”
“Leave that to me and the sergeants.”
“So you can reap the rewards?”
“It’s not about the rewards,” said Ludwig. “I’m leaving eventually, remember? The rewards, the honour, will be yours alone.”
Hagan sat, mulling things over. Ludwig could imagine his brain thinking things through.
“These men are yours, Hagan, and you deserve a right to earn their loyalty.” Ludwig held out his hand. “Let me begin by offering you the hand of friendship.”
“I will accept your offer.” Hagan reached out, and they clasped hands in a firm grip.
“I won’t let you down,” promised Ludwig. “Come back to the company, and I’ll have the men following you to the ends of the Continent by week's end.”
“And what of the Lady Rosalyn?”
Ludwig smiled. “I feel that situation will resolve itself in due time, but I’ll put in a good word for you if you like.”
36
Chermingen
Summer 1095 SR
* * *
“What a strange city,” said Ludwig. The streets of Chermingen were narrow, the architecture far different from that of Torburg, and he had to wonder why.
As if reading his mind, Hagan chose that exact moment to chime in. “It is, isn’t it? You know, they say it’s one of the oldest cities on the Continent, dating back to the Old Kingdom.”
“What Old Kingdom is that?”
“Therengia, of course. I assumed you'd heard of it?”
“Naturally,” said Ludwig. “In fact, I’ve read all I can about it, but I’ve never heard that term used before.”
“It’s common enough around here. We don’t like to use their name, you see. Too much superstition surrounding it.”
Ludwig was about to laugh but saw the serious look on his companion's face and stopped himself. “What kind of superstition?”
“There’s always the fear that it shall rise again.”
“By merely mentioning the name? I find that hard to accept.”
“Not if you consider the facts,” said Hagan.
“And what facts are those?”
“There are a lot of people in these parts that are descended from that ancient race. Recalling their name for the Old Kingdom could ignite the desire to recapture their former glory.”
“Is that why the duke keeps them from positions of influence?”
Hagan looked at him in surprise. “You are a remarkably observant individual, Ludwig. I’m surprised you know of such things. Tell me, do you have any of them back home in Hadenfeld?”
“Possibly. I’ve never really looked.”
“Never looked? How can that be? They are a dangerous people, my friend. You can’t let them get organized, or you might find yourself facing a rebellion.”
“Is that what the duke believes?”
“It's been the policy since the days of his grandfather, or so I’m led to understand.”
“And what are your sentiments?”
Hagan paused a moment, obviously thinking things through. Ludwig waited, knowing the man would eventually make his mind known.
“I consider it a reasonable assumption,” the young lord finally revealed. “After all, the Old Kingdom was a dangerous foe, and it took decades to finally defeat them. The last thing we want is for them to rise again.”
Ludwig frowned. It appeared everyone in Erlingen was more concerned with keeping people in their place than looking after them.
“You don’t agree?” asked Hagan.
“I don’t. I'm of the opinion that the more you try to suppress people, the more they begin to resent it. If anything, you’re only making the situation worse.”
“Then what would you do, were you the duke?”
“Ah,” said Ludwig, “but I’m not.”
“Still, humour me.”
“Well, I suppose I’d look at including them in positions of authority, rather than shutting them out entirely.”
“Are you mad?” said Hagan. “Why on the Continent would you do that?”
“To make them feel like they’re part of society.”
“You do have some odd ideas, my friend. Where in the Saint's name did you ever come up with such thoughts?”
“From my mother,” said Lud
wig. “She would often talk of such things.”
“Did your father not put her in her place?”
“Her place?”
“Yes, a woman’s place is looking after the home, not talking of things she doesn’t understand.”
“And this is your idea of what women are like?”
“Of course. How else would I view the fairer sex?”
“How many women have you actually met?”
“Plenty,” said Hagan. “Why?”
“In my experience, talking that way will only result in an empty bed. You wouldn’t treat Lady Rosalyn with such discourtesy, would you?”
Hagan looked as if someone had hit him with a brick. “I… hadn’t thought of that.”
Ludwig chuckled. “That much was obvious.”
“I must admit to having little experience in such things. It was my father who taught me a woman’s place is in the home.”
“And how does your mother feel about that?”
“My mother can be an ill-tempered woman at times. She's hardly the type to discuss such matters.”
“Can you blame her? What would you do if you were relegated to the household all day long?”
He could tell Hagan was in over his head. The poor fellow struggled to come to grips with the concept, something which his upbringing had ill-prepared him for.
“What would you do?”
“Do?” said Ludwig. “About what? Your mother?”
Hagan laughed, then visibly began to relax. “No, I mean about Lady Rosalyn. I love her, Ludwig, and I would not see her mistreated.”
“You love her? You hardly know her.” As soon as the words left his lips, he saw the irony in them, for his own father had thought the same of him when he had met Charlaine.
“I cannot get her out of my mind, ever since I saw her at Regnitz.”
“You never met her before that?”
“No, the betrothal was all my father’s idea. I’d heard of her, of course. You can’t live in Erlingen and not know the noble houses.”
“If I were you, I’d learn more about her.”
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