by John Migacz
CHAPTER 59
Balthus had a different mercenary captain ride in the fore with him each day. It was good for morale and Balthus used the time to gauge each captain’s abilities.
Captain Queekal rode this morning with Balthus and Adrianna. He was half Kyndian from the look of him, and a fairly able leader as far as Balthus could determine.
Many men could lead a troop during a march but the ones who could lead during battle were the ones Balthus sought. Balthus sized up Queekal through casual conversation and pointed questions. Queekal answered politely and asked questions of his own.
Balthus glanced back at Queekal’s men and looked them over. They were relaxed, capable and had a good attitude. Good attitude only flows in one direction, from the leader down. Queekal had passed inspection and Balthus knew he could count on him – count on him a little longer than he could most mercenary captains, anyway. It was mid-morning when Balthus realized Queekal was sizing him up as well. He laughed.
“Something comical, Sir Balthus?” asked Queekal.
“I found it amusing that while I was taking your measure, you were doing the same to me.”
Captain Queekal smiled. “It’s good to know how much you can depend on your employer. Some feel that mercenaries are nothing more than battle fodder, to be used up as much as possible. Probably hoping to avoid payment.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “These men are pledged to me and I have a responsibility to them.”
“As any good captain should,” agreed Balthus. “Have you been in the east before?”
“Yes. Before I had my own band, I traveled to Glendell Castle as a caravan guard several times.”
“Ah… Perhaps you might share any observations you have about its defenses.”
Captain Queekal was silent for several moments. “Let me just say that I’m glad it is you who has been charged with that duty.”
Balthus closed his eyes. “How did I know you were going to say that?”
They rode on for the rest of the morning, exchanging small talk. The forest was growing sparser with each mile, until they came around a bend in the trail and left the woods completely. Balthus slowed his mount and took in the vista before him. An ocean of grass stretched out as far as he could behold. It truly reminded him of the sea. The wind blew gently and the rippling blades of tall grass resembled waves on the ocean. The similarity ended as he took a deep breath.
“Gagh! What is that smell?” He turned to Captain Queekal. “Does all the grassland smell like this?”
Queekal laughed. “No, not at all. There are sulfur springs over that rise to the left. There is actually a small settlement there.”
“How in God’s name do they stand the smell?” Balthus said, holding his nose.
“One gets used to it. Actually they support the baths that have been built around the springs. Bathing in the waters is supposedly good for some ailments.”
“It can’t be good for any ailments of the nose! Let’s hurry and get past.” He signaled to his troops, then put spurs to his luse.
Two hours later, Glendell Castle appeared in the distance.
“Uh-oh,” said Balthus.
“What is it?” asked Adrianna.
“It’s bigger than I thought. The men will be spread thinly on the walls. I was hoping for something more defensible.”
Glendell Castle sat on a small rise, surrounded by grass on three sides. To the south, a small finger of forest stretched to within a hundred yards of the castle.
Balthus studied the walls as if he had to scale them, and grunted in disappointment. They were only twenty feet high and not very thick. The stones were ill trimmed, leaving plenty of handholds for a rigorous climber. As they passed through the west gate, he saw the gate itself was only one thickness of lumber.
Two small towers flanked a single gate entrance in each wall with a similar tower on each corner of the walls. The towers were merely raised stone platforms with stairs around the outsides. There would be no way to seal off the towers from attackers if the gate fell. He grunted again.
“Breakfast not agreeing with you?” asked Adrianna.
“Look at this place, will you? A determined rodent could get in here with little trouble.”
Adrianna surveyed the walls then looked back to Balthus. “It’s nothing we can’t fix.”
Balthus glanced at her to see if she was kidding. She wasn’t. He smiled, buoyed by her optimism. “You’re right, Love. There is nothing we can’t do if we set our minds to it.”
They rode through the gates toward the Baron’s citadel. The citizens of the town were few in number, at least the ones visible, and they stared at the mercenary column like they were the invading army, not the town’s defenders. Balthus hoped the timing would work out well. An idle army in a town was a discipline nightmare.
They rode through the citadel’s entrance and a mounted knight in green Glendell livery was waiting for them at the gate. “Sir Balthus. Dieya the Sorcerer asked me to lead your men to their billets and has asked for you to meet him in the main hall.”
Balthus nodded, gave an order to a guardsman, then he and Adrianna split off from the column. Oldwick, Hawke and four others rode with them. Balthus glanced back at his bodyguards and decided not to order them to join the others. These men had sworn an oath to protect him and he would make it as easy for them as possible.
Dieya waited on the steps to the citadel proper as they rode into the courtyard. Stable boys rushed to take their luses as they dismounted.
“Dieya. How goes it?” Balthus said with a wave.
Dieya was grinning. “It’s good to see you two again. How was the traveling?” He extended his hand and grasped Balthus’ then Adrianna’s, in warrior fashion.
“Boring. But what has been happening here?”
“Nothing more than getting organized. Why do you ask?” said Dieya.
“You seem happy. That usually means someone has died,” said Balthus.
Dieya grinned wider. “No, sorry to disappoint you this time, Balthus. I just feel good, that’s all.”
Balthus joined him in a grin and patted his back. “Awareness certainly makes the wine taste sweeter, doesn’t it?”
Dieya nodded. “Come, Baron Genardt is anxious to meet you two.”
He led them up the stairs, Oldwick and Hawke following at a discrete distance. Balthus noticed the main door of the citadel was made of thick oakum reinforced by steel bands.
“Too bad we can’t defend from the citadel. It looks solid enough to withstand any siege. How come the outside walls are so poorly made?”
“The outside walls were erected mainly to separate the town from the grasslands in case of a prairie fire,” said Dieya. “The entire town was destroyed by fire several times in the past. A generation ago, Glendell’s baron thought it would be a good idea to surround the town with a wall for a firebreak. It was never intended to withstand a siege.”
Balthus nodded.
They entered a modestly decorated main hall and approached a group of officers standing around a table. Balthus’ bodyguards held back and stood a respectful distance from the group.
“Baron Genardt, I’d like to introduce you to Sir Balthus of Steradam and his consort the Lady Adrianna.”
A short portly man separated from the group and approached with an extended hand. Baron Genardt was a man in his late years. His thinning gray hair was pulled into a ponytail that flowed down the back of his tunic. He had the look of a man who had ruled a long time and was used to fine wines and lavish dinners. His narrow eyes were set deep in a fat face.
“Sir Balthus, I’m glad you have arrived.”
They shook hands. “It’s good to finally meet, Sir.”
The Baron turned to Adrianna and bowed. “Lady Adrianna, welcome to Glendell Castle. Please excuse us if we forgo the proper formalities. Life here on the eastern edge of the King’s real
m is harsh and we often overlook court protocol.”
“Thank you, Baron, for your gracious welcome,” said Adrianna. “In times such as these, a lack of formal court protocol is not only refreshing, but necessary.” She bowed back.
Balthus was thinking that the Baron would be better off overlooking a few meals when the Baron grabbed him by the elbow.
“Come! See what the Sorcerer has created.” He led them to a table, grinning like a small boy with a new toy. “There, isn’t it wonderful!”
A scale model of Glendell Castle covered the table. It was complete down to the crenellations on the walls. All it needed was miniature people walking about to bring it to life. Balthus studied the reproduction with wonder. Strips of different colored cloth lay at the base of each miniature wall. “Dieya, this is fascinating. How did you make this?”
Dieya smiled. “I’m a sorcerer, remember?” He moved closer to Balthus and whispered, “…and I had my ‘friends’ construct this when I knew Glendell Castle would be the focus of the Sevoal attack. I had it delivered here before my base was destroyed.”
“What do the colors signify?” asked Adrianna.
“I felt that due to the inexperience of our mercenary friends, if we broke them down into colored groups that matched the colored walls they defended, it would cause less confusion in the heat of battle. It is easier for a man to be told to go to the green wall than to try to remember which way is north or south. We will paint the inside of the parapet’s walls with the correct color for easier identification.”
“Ingenious!” Balthus looked at Dieya with a gleam in his eye. “This will also be a help in setting up watches and flying squads for reinforcements.” Balthus thought for a moment. “We could pin a colored badge to each trooper and offer a bonus to the fastest responding color. Oh, this has a lot of possibilities. It will sponsor competition between the mercenary bands at the very least and give group pride to the freebooters.” The wheels turned in Balthus’ head. “Dieya, when we are done with this tonight, I’d like to move it out to the main square and have the men study it in their leisure time. Our troops have arrived in a new town, and after a week, the only things they will be able to find will be the mess hall and the bordellos. This will be a great help.”
Dieya smiled again. “Already done, Balthus. I had thought of that as well, so I made two models. A larger one is presently sitting in the main square.”
Balthus smiled. “I can’t say you’re not prepared. We will best these bastards yet.” He turned to the Baron. “I say, Baron, do you have any wine in your castle? I must toast the Sorcerer on a magnificent idea.”