Warrior Knight

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Warrior Knight Page 39

by Paul J Bennett


  “How overwhelming?” came another voice.

  “That,” continued the duke, “is an excellent question. At the moment, we are estimating the enemy strength at between three and four thousand.”

  A collective gasp went through the audience, then people started peppering the duke with questions, so much so that little could be heard other than the general hubbub of conversation.

  The duke used his hands to calm everybody. “I shall answer your questions in due course, but please, one at a time. Perhaps if you stood to speak?”

  Several stood, and the duke looked past Ludwig to the man two seats to his rear. “Yes, Lord Baldwin?”

  “How reliable is this information, Your Grace?”

  The duke sought out one of the spectators. “Lord Killian, you were there. What do you have to say?”

  The man stood, commanding the attention of the room. Clearly, he had only recently arrived, for his clothes were covered in dust and dirt.

  “They came in overwhelming numbers, Your Grace. We held them as long as we could, but it soon became clear we were badly outnumbered.”

  “And what can you tell us of their troops?”

  “Mostly foot and knights, Your Grace, with a smattering of archers, but no crossbowmen as far as we observed.”

  The duke scanned the crowd again as more lords stood. “You have a question, Lord Rengard?”

  The Baron of Rosenbruck addressed his question to Lord Killian. “Are you sure of these numbers, my lord? They strike me as being awfully”—he fought to find the right word—“exaggerated.”

  “I can assure you my estimation is as accurate as my people could make it. I take no joy in informing you of it, but we must be prepared.”

  “How many knights has he?” called out Lord Hurst.

  “I would estimate their numbers at close to five hundred, if not six.”

  Hurst quickly became irritated. “Which is it, man? Five or six? That’s a significant difference.”

  “We were under considerable threat, Hurst, and lacked sufficient time to make a full appraisal.”

  Hurst opened his mouth to speak, but the duke intervened. “Sit down, man, and let someone else get a word in edgewise.”

  Lord Helmer quickly seized the moment. “What can you tell us of their quality?”

  “Quality?” asked Killian.

  “Yes, were they trained warriors, or merely a local levy raised to scare us.”

  “I can say with a fair degree of accuracy that these are well-trained and experienced troops. The few we engaged were armoured and knew their business.”

  The level of background noise increased dramatically as everyone debated the news.

  “Lord Augustus?” said the duke. “You have a question?”

  “Yes, Your Grace," replied the Baron of Salzing. "I wonder if you might share with us your plan to deal with this menace?”

  “By all means. We shall remain in Chermingen enlarging our forces until such time as we can gain the advantage of numbers.”

  “Is that likely?”

  “One can only hope. The problem is, if we advance, we could well be taken by surprise. By waiting here, we force them to come to us.”

  Ludwig, suddenly struck by an idea, stood, earning him some nasty looks from the barons. The duke, perhaps unwilling to take another question from one of his own nobles, looked directly at him. “Sir Ludwig, you have a question?”

  “I do, Your Grace. I was wondering who would command the army should you fall.”

  The room fell into a hush. Ludwig looked around, trying to ascertain why, and then it dawned on him that he might have stepped over the line. All eyes turned, as one, towards the duke.

  “I shall not fall,” His Grace replied. “Far from it, in fact. We shall meet the enemy on the field of battle and send them packing.”

  “Then the strategy is to meet them in the field?” suggested Ludwig.

  “Yes, although the precise timing and location of such an event is yet to be determined.”

  There was much more to be said, but the duke was clearly done. “That's all I shall say, for now, gentlemen. Return to your tents and pray for success. I fear we may have need of it. I'll convene another meeting once I’ve had a chance to read over the latest dispatches. Until then, I bid you a good day.” He turned, striding from the stage as if it were the end of a play.

  Hagan joined Ludwig on his feet while everyone else began filing out.

  “Was that it?” Hagan said.

  “I suppose it was,” said Ludwig.

  “He didn’t have much of an answer for you.”

  “No, nor for anyone else if the truth be known. I don’t know why he insisted on bringing us all here for that.”

  “Because he can,” said Hagan.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means he’s the duke, and as duke, he likes to exercise his power over us. He calls us here, and we’re forced to appear. See what I mean?”

  “It seems a petty thing to do.”

  “Ah,” said Hagan, “but if you remember, the barons spend a lot of time fighting amongst themselves. This was a demonstration of the duke’s power, plain and simple.”

  “And that’s all there is to take away from this?”

  “Not at all. But it's likely the most important thing, at least in his eyes.”

  “It felt like a waste of time to me,” said Ludwig. “There was hardly anything to pass on.”

  “You mean other than we’re outnumbered? I’d call that pretty important, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yes, but he appears indecisive. He talked of waiting here, then of marching out and fighting. Which does he intend?”

  “I have no idea,” said Hagan, “nor is it up to us. We are his vassals, Ludwig. We must do as he commands.”

  Ludwig looked at him, a gleam in his eyes. “Perhaps not,” he said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I have an idea. Come, we must speak to your father and Lord Wulfram.”

  “About what?” asked Hagan.

  “My plan. What else?”

  “Would you care to divulge what precisely this plan involves?”

  “Not yet. I’m still working on it.”

  “My father’s here. We saw him earlier.”

  “Yes,” said Ludwig, “but here is not the place to discuss such things, and I’d prefer to have Lord Wulfram present as well. It will avoid having to explain it twice.”

  “Twice?” said Hagan. “I’m still waiting for you to explain it to me?”

  “Then come, we'll discuss it on the way.”

  * * *

  Finding Lord Gebhard’s tent was easy, for Hagan had visited it the night they had arrived in Chermingen. Lord Wulfram, however, was more difficult to locate. Luckily, Ludwig thought to seek out his old sword master, Kurt Wasser, since he was the man who had been assigning locations for the nobles' tents.

  A brief visit was all they needed to convince the man to accompany them, and so they set off, Baron Haas in tow to present Ludwig’s idea. Lord Gebhard frowned as Lord Wulfram entered his tent, but at least he minded his manners.

  “What's this?” he demanded.

  “Father,” said Hagan, “Ludwig here has a proposal. I suggest you listen to him.”

  “Really? And what’s Wulfram doing here?”

  “It involves his men as well. It’s only right he gets a say in things.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” grumbled his father. “Very well, tell us of your idea, sir.”

  Ludwig found his mouth suddenly dry. He licked his lips, trying to gather his words.

  “Is this about that meeting today?” pressed Gebhard.

  “It is, my lord,” said Ludwig. “In fact, the meeting is what gave me the idea.”

  “Go on,” urged Lord Wulfram.

  “It occurred to me we have next to nothing in the way of reliable information concerning these invaders.”

  “We know their numbers,” said Ge
bhard. “Isn’t that enough?”

  “But we don’t,” insisted Ludwig, “at least not exact numbers. Lord Killian said between three and four thousand; that’s a substantial variance. If we are to defeat them, we need more accurate information.”

  “Agreed,” said Baron Stein. “What are you proposing?”

  “I suggest he send a small group out to scout out the enemy positions.”

  “He hasn’t enough horse," insisted Wulfram. "After all, you can’t send knights out for such a task. They’re too slow.”

  “I was going to suggest footmen,” said Ludwig. “Specifically, our company.”

  “Are you mad?" said Gebhard. "They’d be overrun before the day was done.”

  “I don’t think it likely. Hear me out.”

  “Very well, tell us more.”

  “The enemy is moving slowly," began Ludwig. "We know that because they’ve been massing for weeks yet have only taken Lieswel.”

  “I fail to see how that's relevant,” insisted Baron Stein.

  “It's my opinion they hope to draw us into battle. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Think of it; how long does it take to march from Lieswel to Chermingen?”

  “Three or four days. Why?”

  “They could have taken this city by now. We were all the way back in Torburg when we heard tell of their army. And why mass on the border if only to wait? The answer is they wanted us to do precisely what we’re doing.”

  “But if that’s true," said Wulfram, "doesn’t that mean we’re walking into a trap?”

  “It does.”

  “Then I’m afraid I can’t see the logic in this. If it’s a trap, shouldn’t we hole up in Chermingen?”

  “The city has no walls,” said Ludwig. "We’d have to spread our army over a wide area to protect it while the enemy could concentrate on one section. We have little choice but to meet them in the field, and that means we need to know more about them.”

  “So then what’s the purpose of this plan?" said Gebhard. "You can't be suggesting you can get close enough to count men?”

  “My intent would be to infiltrate their army with a small force. Warriors look much alike on both sides. It shouldn’t be too hard to send in half a dozen men, unseen. The rest of the company would search the area between here and Lieswel.”

  “To what end?”

  “To learn about the countryside," explained Ludwig. "If we are to meet this threat, isn't it best to do so on land of our own choosing?”

  Lord Wulfram looked at his counterpart. “Well, Gebhard? What are your thoughts?”

  “The idea has merit, but it sounds difficult.”

  “Yes, and dangerous," said Wulfram. "It’s not as if there would be reinforcements to back them up.” He turned to Hagan. “What's your opinion?”

  “I am in agreement on this,” Hagan responded. “Ludwig’s plan is sound, and I believe it worth the risk.”

  “Of course you do,” said his father. “You’re young and foolhardy. This is real danger, boy. You could be killed.”

  Hagan stood straight, his voice strained. “I’m not afraid, Father.”

  The senior Stein’s face softened. “I don’t mean to imply you are, but you’re my son. I wouldn’t have you throw your life away.”

  “Nor do I intend to, Father. We shall take every precaution.”

  “And if you are captured? What then, eh? I shudder to think what the King of Andover would do with you.”

  “I’m sure he’d be safe,” said Ludwig. “The king means to conquer Erlingen; that much is clear. He’ll need the goodwill of the people to rule, either that or he’ll be forced to maintain a large-standing army.”

  “That’s true,” said Lord Wulfram. “You, on the other hand, aren’t a native of Erlingen, Ludwig. That makes your life much less important to them.”

  “I’m willing to take that chance. I know this is a dangerous endeavour, but with so much at stake, can we honestly afford not to do everything in our power to defeat this invasion?”

  Lord Gebhard did not look pleased. “What if we sent more troops? Could we borrow some knights?”

  “No,” said Ludwig. “A larger group is more difficult to hide. Stealth is our ally, my lord, not numbers.”

  “I still don’t like it.”

  “He has a point,” said Lord Wulfram. “Come, Gebhard, you know the man’s right. If he manages to pull this off, we’ll all come back covered in glory.”

  “Glory? What price is glory if it leads to the death of my only son and heir?” He moved to stand before Hagan. “I would not see you killed, Hagan. I know we’ve had our differences, but you’re still my son, and I care for you greatly.”

  Ludwig noticed the tears in the baron’s eyes.

  Hagan hugged his father, words tumbling from his lips in a quivering voice. “I shall come back, Father. I promise.”

  Lord Gebhard held him at arm's length, coughing to hide his discomfort. “I know you’ll do your best, Son, but that’s not a promise you can make.”

  “I shall keep an eye on him, my lord,” said Ludwig.

  “Very well, but I'll have to take this to His Grace. Ultimately, it’s not our decision to make.”

  “We understand, Father.”

  “Good,” said Baron Stein. “Now, it's best you two return to your men, and get a good night's rest behind you. If the duke approves of your idea, you’ll need to set out as soon as possible.” He turned to Lord Wulfram. “I should like you to accompany me when I take this to His Grace.”

  “Are you certain?” replied Baron Haas. “Not so long ago, we were at each other's throats.”

  “And for that, I deeply apologize. It's only now, as I face the overwhelming possibility of losing my own son that I see how selfish I was concerning your daughter. She should be free to make her own decisions, Wulfram, just as my son must have the same choice.”

  “Well said, Gebhard.”

  “Then come, let us be off before I change my mind.”

  They left the tent, leaving Hagan and Ludwig alone.

  “Are you all right?” asked Ludwig.

  Hagan nodded. “I’ve never seen my father like that,” he said, his voice still husky.

  “People change. Mind you, it’s taken an invasion for him to learn to appreciate you. It’s a good thing you don’t have any brothers or sisters, or we’d have to face an even larger force.”

  38

  Reconnaissance

  Summer 1095 SR

  * * *

  The duke, pleased with the proposal, sent them on their way the very next day. Eager to be on the road, they set out at a fast pace, their spirits high despite the risk. There was pride in the men’s steps, and Ludwig prayed it would carry them through the ordeal to come, for with the rising sun came his doubts the plan would work.

  He said nothing to the others, yet Cyn could sense something was wrong. It wasn’t until they took a brief rest, mid-morning, that she finally got around to confronting him about it. Ludwig had dismounted and was sitting on a rock, peeling off his boots when she found him.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Does something have to be wrong for me to come and say hello?”

  “I know you better than that, Cyn, and the fact that Sig’s not here speaks volumes.”

  She crouched before him, balancing on the balls of her feet. “Something’s troubling you,” she said. “I can tell.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Come now, Ludwig. You might fool the others, but I’ve known Siggy far too long to be deceived by the likes of you. You men are all the same, hiding away your fears. It’s this mission you’ve volunteered us for, isn’t it?”

  He looked at her, feeling a sadness well up inside him. “Is this a fool's errand, Cyn? Am I condemning all these men to death?”

  “They’re soldiers,” she replied. “Death is their stock-in-trade. You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

  “I can’t help it. I have this feeling we
’re walking a knife's edge.”

  “That’s a soldier's life. You’re lucky. You’re one of the people who makes the decisions. Most of us simply have to live with the consequences.”

  “Still,” said Ludwig, “I can’t shake this feeling I’ve neglected something.”

  “Of course you’ve forgotten something. No one has a perfect memory. What do you want me to do, soothe your conscience? Tell you everything will work out well? I can’t do that, Ludwig, and neither can you. The sooner you realize that, the better. We must take what life throws at us and make the best of it.”

  “You’re right.”

  “Of course I am,” Cyn replied. “Now, get on your horse and show the men how confident you are. We can’t afford for them to be skittish.”

  “Skittish?”

  “Yes, flighty, scared if you like. The men need the example of your leadership.”

  “I’m no leader.”

  “Yes, you are. You still don’t see it, do you? You have a gift for it, Ludwig. Men would kill for that type of presence.”

  “Even if it meant their deaths?”

  “Soldiers die,” said Cyn. “Nothing can prevent that. Your job, as the leader, is to keep their losses to a minimum.”

  He stared at her a moment letting the words sink in. Was he a leader? Part of his mind rebelled at the thought, yet there was no denying his presence had made a difference here, amongst the men who he and Hagan commanded.

  Cyn wore a look of frustration. “What’s going on inside that head of yours?”

  In answer, Ludwig began pulling his boots back on. “You’re right,” he said. “I don’t have time for such maudlin thoughts.”

  “Maudlin, is it now? Getting awfully uppity with your fancy words, aren’t you?” She grinned. “Who do you think you are, the duke?”

  “No, of course not,” he bit back, then noted her look of amusement. “Very funny.”

  “You’re mad, that’s good. It means the old Ludwig is back. Now harness that energy, and get this band of yours on the road.”

  “They’re not my band. They belong to Hagan.”

 

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