Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  "My Lord," a soldier ran up to Ladislaus, "Just over the next hill is a small valley. I have spotted the Ottomans there."

  Vincent chuckled next to Ladislaus and patted his horse's neck, "Then we shall stay within the shadow of this hill…for now."

  Ladislaus nodded and turned his horse to face Vincent, "We have enough men to circle the Ottomans tonight."

  "And from there we can set a volley of archers' arrows over the hilltop and down upon them. Waves of them," Vincent agreed.

  "Then we can close in on them and corner them within the valley…no escape," Ladislaus continued.

  "Until there is no way out but to try and fight through our ranks," Vincent's eyes flashed with anticipation and delight.

  "We will soon then outnumber them."

  "Better yet," Vincent realized, "After the volleys of arrows, we should flank with the cavalry and scatter them. That way, they're even weaker as an opponent."

  Ladislaus laughed devilishly, "You truly are a remarkable soldier, Sir Vincent."

  The Wallachian grinned at the nobleman, "Yes. I know."

  Both ordered their soldiers into the forest just to their left for safety and concealment. At first, the troops complained that they wished to charge forward, but once a few campfires were lit and soldiers were broken into shifts, only twenty-five eating and resting at a time, there were hardly any whines left. Vincent and Ladislaus didn't take any chances with the Ottomans, and especially with his brother Radu commanding them. For this reason, Vincent made sure that only a maximum of fifty soldiers were resting at any given time. Then the next shift of men would rest their shields and sheath their swords for dinner and a quick nap. But Vincent made sure that his men knew this was only temporary; they could not afford to rest for very long and always had to keep an eye out for Ottoman scouts. Both The Wallachian and the Hungarian Lord never dismounted their horses.

  "Do you think that the Ottomans will move? Or that they will see us?" the nobleman asked as he watched his horse drink from a pale of water.

  Vincent took a deep breath and sighed, "No. I do not believe so. Radu knows that he is in unfamiliar territory, and he only knows a rough sketch of where the Hungarian castle is. However," Vincent looked to the sunset, "He knows we are near, and he knows that we will probably attack tonight since that's what we've been doing for three days."

  "Then would you suggest charging into battle now could be wiser…and more unpredictable?" Ladislaus considered.

  "If we attack during any time where there is light, then they will have the advantage of seeing us. I can see us either attacking in the night, or just before dawn," Vincent replied, turning around in his saddle to eye the men.

  Ladislaus took a moment to process the thought and began to nod slowly, "I understand."

  Vincent turned back around in his seat and smiled, "I'm glad."

  "So we should probably switch it up and attack before dawn then?"

  Vincent grinned and pushed his dark locks away from his face, "I was just thinking that."

  "What?" Matthias felt his eyes widen as he glanced up from his book.

  Richard smiled, "I said, it's time for your bath. You know how filthy you got playing outside today."

  Matthias gasped and slammed the book shut. He scooted off of the soft furniture of the sofa and heard his feet slam into the ground. Richard's body tensed, readying her snatch. But Matthias was quicker and shot out of her radius and bolted for the door.

  "MATTHIAS!" Richard shouted in a warning tone as she ran for him.

  "YOU! CAN'T! MAKE! MEEEEE!" he called, his voice growing fainter.

  Two nobles sprinted through corridors and into other well decorated rooms; one the hunter and the other the hunted. Chairs were tossed into Richard's way, things ripped off of shelves and shattered to the floor in a desperate attempt to trip her. But in her experience, she hurtled over the obstacles and charged forward, half infuriated and half laughing.

  "Why do you hate being clean? Why can't you just sit through it, just once?" Richard began to pant, but didn't dare stop running.

  Matthias slipped on the rug in the corner of the next room and that gave his older sister just enough time to pounce onto him. She grabbed his arms and torso, not minding that he began to kick and shout at her. She covered his mouth with one hand and placed him on her hip, carrying him back up stairs and to the bathing room where servants would take care of him.

  Matthias ceased squirming and gasped for air, "To answer your question…I…am…a soldier of the….Hungarian nobility…and I shall be…taken seriously."

  Richard chuckled, "What does that mean?"

  "It means that we soldiers do not need baths," he said the word with disgust, "We are above it!"

  This made Richard laugh even more, "Indeed. But you are not a soldier. You are nobility, not a stable boy, or a street rat. As long as I am here, you will remain relatively clean for a young rambunctious lad."

  Matthias still upturned his nose to the air and refused to listen. Richard shrugged at his pout and turned the last corner. A servant bowed to her and opened her arms to take the child. Richard transferred the kid and waved a goodbye hand in his direction. Matthias was too preoccupied at avoiding the next room he was about to enter, and Richard could already hear water from pails filling up a tub.

  She sighed and straightened her auburn dress and the laces holding it upright. Unsure of what to do next, Richard had hardly the time to decide anything when she saw a familiar person turn the corner and pause in the door frame, smiling.

  "My Lady," Walter bowed deeply and held his arm out for her. She took it gladly and walked with him.

  "Good evening, Walter. How have you been?" she asked.

  "I've been well, thank you. You look lovely," he replied; always the formalities.

  Richard smiled and looked over his slightly disheveled look, his light brown hair twisted into knots. "How did you know where to find me?" she asked.

  He looked at her with a wry smile, "Well, generally all I had to do was follow the trail of destruction."

  "Oh dear," Richard whispered, "Matthias was throwing things that would get in my way while I chased him. He didn't want to take his bath…"

  Walter chuckled, "Indeed, it happens every time. I just was making sure you were alright."

  "I'm fine," she assured and headed for her room.

  "Well then. I think I'll go and dust the dining room," Walter bowed once more and left Richard.

  The young Lady cocked her head to one side as she watched him whirl back around and leave with light steps. The direction he was headed confused her most of all because the dining room was in the opposite direction. She looked to her right and left, and then proceeded to follow him softly, making sure her footfalls were unheard even by his keen ears. She picked up the ends of her dress and shuffled past the corners undetected. And by the second corner, she knew exactly where he was going: the governor's chamber. Richard felt her heart beat faster and only hoped that he had been beckoned.

  He turned another corner, and this time looked behind him instinctively. Richard whirled back around to the other side and caught her breath, closing her eyes as if she would be invisible. To her luck, she turned just in time and Walter did not see her. Waiting a few minutes more, Richard found the guts to look around the corner again, and what she saw shocked her.

  Walter was pressing his ear to the door, his body bending to meet the best possible spot to hear what was being said on the inside. She almost scoffed in shock at the sight and crept slowly behind his field of vision. Closer, closer. She stepped with her toes first and then slid the ball of her foot to the ground's cold stone floor. Finally coming up right on his back, she smiled and cleared her throat.

  He jumped reflexively and covered his mouth, turning around slowly as if he were under water. His eyes widened in horror at the sight of who had followed him so secretively. His mouth couldn't even form the right words to relieve him out of trouble.

  "I-I-we-I-was-I-j
ust," he babbled.

  Her grin grew at the sight of his distress and vulnerability, "Yes?"

  "I know my actions may seem…" he paused trying to think of the word.

  "Guilty?" she tried.

  "Peculiar," he amended, "…I suppose I had it coming, but if you knew what he planned…"

  Richard's smile faded and found herself matching her servant's whisper, "What are you talking about? Who?"

  Walter offered his hand to her and led her into a different room across the hall with evident haste. Closing the door behind him and checking more than once if the room was occupied, he then relaxed a little.

  "The governor beckons me many times throughout the day for chores that need to be finished," Walter started out.

  "Yes," Richard answered.

  "I began to notice that he barely keeps Lord Leroy Rodriguez twenty feet away from him. Whenever I am called into the chamber, Lord Rodriguez is always with him, and they are always discussing a heavy topic."

  Richard's stature perked with curiosity, "Well, what were they talking about?"

  Walter hesitated and gave her a reluctant look.

  "Walter, if it has something to do with Ladislaus or Sir Vincent, I must know."

  Upon the second name, Walter looked down and Richard could tell she had hit her mark.

  "My Lady," he said in despair, but she frowned decisively. He sighed and knew he would eventually be ordered to tell her anyway. "The regent-governor, your father, has known all along that there was an Ottoman army at Hungary's borders. He knew of their existence for some time, but he never had enough men to confront them…until Sir Vincent came."

  "My father sent Sir Vincent and Ladislaus's green army out to fight the Ottomans?" she heard her voice rise.

  "Whether it was a test or a hope that Sir Vincent would die, I don't know. I don't understand his reasons, but I heard about 'bait'. And I think that they were trying to tempt Sir Vincent into returning to the Ottoman Empire. I believe what Sir Vincent does in this battle is crucial to his survival and to his delicate alliance with Hungary," Walter quickly whispered back.

  Richard did not know whether to be horrified that her father was manipulating Vincent or impressed that he was testing a possible enemy.

  "And that's not all…" Walter continued, "The man in charge of the Ottoman army is his younger brother, Radu."

  "My father is setting up Sir Vincent to kill his kin, his own brother?" Richard shook her head in disgust, "I didn't know my father was capable of settling so low, even for his standards."

  Walter gave a resigned nod, "You can see why I've been…eavesdropping," he shamefully admitted.

  "Au contraire," Richard grinned, "I was waiting for you to finally do something morally unethical by your standards. You have now proved to me that you're human."

  "Am I really that uptight?" Walter reflected her smile. In response, she kissed him on the cheek and curtsied politely.

  "It's what makes you so trustworthy," she murmured and motioned to leave the room.

  A scream from across the hall sent Richard flying out of the room along with Walter. She turned the corner and saw William holding a guard's head up from the ground, his body shaking as it screamed for oxygen. Richard ran to her sister and gasped as she saw whom it was.

  "Pip?"

  The familiar red-headed guard coughed and wheezed, "Yes, my Lady. I was coming to inform the governor."

  Footsteps followed Richard's as Walter turned the corner along with the governor himself and Rodriguez by his side. They each look shocked.

  "What happened?" The regent-governor asked.

  "My Lord," Pip tried to bow his head, "I have spotted Ottomans at our doorstep not 32 kilometers from here."

  "WHAT?" Rodriguez shouted and immediately turned accusingly to his ruler.

  The governor merely scoffed and pointed his hand at Pip, "There has to be more."

  Pip nodded, "There is. I saw Lord Ladislaus's army in the hill's shadow. I think they mean to attack at night."

  Rodriguez cocked his head to one side, "What? Why would you attack your enemy at night? That makes no sense."

  "To gain the advantage," The governor answered, "Very clever…you are better protected in the night when your enemy cannot see you or your moves."

  "It's ingenious really," Pip was able to slow his breathing.

  "Father," Richard stated with some weight; a quick glance from Walter stopped her from continuing what she had originally wanted to say.

  "What?" he asked.

  Richard looked at the ground, "I…I was just wondering if you were going to send soldiers to help them."

  "It is too late," he stated apologetically and nodded over to the horizon, "Do you see that sunset? We would be riding blindly into the night if I asked troops to leave now."

  The young Lady softly snorted and turned around, sending a stern glance Rodriguez's way as she went. Rodriguez's frown deepened as she shot him the look. Richard knew she and Rodriguez never saw eye-to-eye. He was forever suspicious of her intentions, and she suspicious of his. Richard read the governor's fake sentiment in those words like a trashy book. Completely revolted by her own father, she passed him and his advisor and headed down to the only place she felt safe. William stood, silent, and followed her sister.

  Ladislaus hushed his men as he and Vincent rode up the dark hilltop side and looked down to where the Ottomans had their encampment. Vincent pulled up next to the young Lord and exchanged anticipated glances. Both men could hardly wait to invade and tear every living thing apart inside.

  "I just got back from the eastern phalanx. They are ready and brimming with angst," Vincent reported in a hushed murmur.

  "Good, very good," Ladislaus answered, "We have the Northern and the Eastern phalanx pointing inward at a downward angle. This will confuse and penetrate the insides of their encampment, giving us the advantage and the lead."

  "Yes, my Lord," Vincent cleared his throat, "But we must consider the fact that we need to go in, and then come right back out."

  Ladislaus turned to Vincent in the saddle and gave him a reproachful look, "Sir Vincent, we can take them. We have the numbers."

  "Yes," Vincent nodded, "But we haven't the experience or the weaponry to sustain a long battle. My intentions were to strike and then run. I know it's not the noblest of ways to fight, but it is effective."

  The nobleman's ears preferred to grow deaf at Vincent's words, and he unsheathed his sword, kicking his horse in the side. "I know you think that Ottoman tactics are superior to Hungarian, but let me show you how it's done."

  Vincent shook his head, "My Lord, this isn't wise. You'll kill off every single one of the men."

  "Being able to sustain and maintain your men in battle is what proves if you're a good leader, Sir Vincent. And I intend to prove to my father that I am ready to rule Hungary in his stead. No better way can I achieve this than to fight head on," his horse cantered forward and he called over his shoulder, "I know you're not nobility and don't have this kind of pressure, but try to understand!"

  Vincent gritted his teeth and slammed his fist against his shield in silent protest. Hadúr jumped nervously. "Goddamn nobility. Of course I wouldn't know what pressure is all about. Why in the world would I know anything about pressure? It's not like I've been fighting fate to keep myself alive this long in life," he spat sarcastically at the ground.

  The Wallachian fought inside himself, whether or not to follow the young Lord and stop him. Nothing good would come of it for Vincent, but he would be able to stop the deaths of nearly a thousand men. Was his pride that great? Was it that vast? Did it cover his morals, and blind his ethical code engraved within his mind since birth?

  "No," Vincent answered himself and clucked to his horse. It galloped forward and followed in the footsteps of Ladislaus's horse.

  Hadúr gripped the ground with his hooves, pounding out dirt and grass with every stride. Vincent unsheathed his sword and tried to charge the noble from behind. However, onc
e Vincent had located Ladislaus, he already held his sword from the hilt and shouted the commencement of the battle with a cry.

  "CHARGE!" The nobleman yelled, throwing the tip of his blade forward in a motion to attack.

  The cavalry raced forward, leading the lines. Ready soldiers also jumped forward in their lines and ran to the bottom of the hill. Vincent rode up next to Ladislaus's horse and halted sharply.

  "Have you gone mad?" Vincent shouted, now over hundreds of other shouts from the soldiers.

  Ladislaus shook his head, "No. This is what war is all about, isn't it? Isn't that what you've tried to teach me all along? You said so yourself that you live for war and the conflict."

  Vincent growled, "Yes, I do. But not for the unnecessary deaths of my men. I don't purposely place them into harm's way for the fun of it! Especially not when I have too few men! We can't let the Ottomans win!"

  Ladislaus neck-reined his horse away and trotted off, "You can talk to me about your feelings later, Wallachian. We have a battle to perform. Whether you like it or not, the battle has begun. Now, are you coming or not?"

  Vincent, with a swear word at his lips, found himself beginning to follow his superior, though reluctantly.

  Fine, he thought begrudgingly. I'll see what this Hungarian thinks he can do, and then I'll take what's left and give him a victory.

  Vincent's heart raced as he felt his horse's hooves beat the ground. With each massive stride, he felt himself plunge further into the great battle ahead. Men shouted as they blindly raced forward with their swords tipped at the enemy. Waves of them. The campgrounds were just being lit with torches when the Hungarians hit. Ottoman soldiers didn't even have time to prepare in their battle armor as the Christian soldiers attacked them. It was Vincent's time for first blood in this battle, and he smiled as men were cut down before they could even think to reach for their weapons. The Hungarians flooded into tents and stood over drowsy men, lifting swords over their bellies and striking, stabbing, slashing, slicing, twisting, and gutting. It was their chance to get back at their enemy, to get back on all of the times when they were attacked at night and off their guard.