Part 53

The Imperial army spread out in front of the city was impressive.  She counted the units, taking their size into consideration and saw that they were outnumbered three to two. 

They also looked far prettier all lined up with matching armor and flags.  Their combined mercenary army in comparison looked like a rabble. 

But she wasn’t concerned.  From what Verin said, the Imperials spent more time polishing their armor and marching in parades than learning how to fight. 

They were about to find out. 

She was mounted next to Onata and they were both behind Verin.  It felt strange not to be in the front line.  The only way they’d see combat today was if their side lost and the Imperials managed to penetrate their center.

Tempest was off commanding the left flank of infantry.

Alethia, dressed in a long black robe walked up from the direction of the camp and tapped Verin on the knee. 

“I don’t think we’ll need you today,” Verin said.

Alethia nodded and walked back to her tent. 

“That’s reassuring,” Onata said.

If they didn’t need the sorceress then Verin felt confident of victory.  She hadn’t seen him wrong about a military matter yet. 

“Men,” Verin said.  “Advance.”

The officers immediately began shouting orders.  Signal flags were waved and then horns began blowing. 

The combined mercenary army undulated forward.  The blocks of front line infantry were in the front with archers in the rear and cavalry on the wings.  Reserves of pikemen were behind everyone to plug up holes and to counter charge if needed. 

Verin and his fellow generals had discussed the strategy until nearly dawn.  Their plan was as good as it was going to get.  From what Greza understood of it, it was very basic.  No fancy maneuvers, no tricks.  Just simple movement and aggression. 

Victory would come down to the generals exploiting weaknesses and openings in the enemy lines and the quality of their troops. 

“I bet the Imperials are feeling right confident about now because they outnumber us,” Onata said.

“You really think they’re that bad?”

“Hope so.”

A part of her wanted to be up front with her old squadmates in the thick of it.  She couldn’t deny that she loved the surge of power she felt during battle.  Never did she feel so alive than in a fight.

Her hands clinched in their metal gauntlets, eager to hit something.

The sun was just over the distant mountains and the sky was still shaking off the dawn’s purple.  Dew covered the grass and it was a beautiful morning.  Shame it was about to turn ugly. 

Even if they won she knew this was going to be a horrible day.  So many people dying.  Mothers, daughters, sons and sisters were going to mourn by this night.  Each one would be a personal tragedy.

She watched as the two armies collided like distant clouds, so slow but so awe inspiring.  Flocks of arrows filled the sky going in both directions and soon clouds of dust obscured much of the battle.  She could see cavalry units riding around and pikemen charging forward.

Somehow Verin was able to make sense of it all.  He would point, issue orders and discuss with the other generals. 

She rode up closer. 

“How goes the battle?”  She asked.

Verin turned to her and smile. 

“We’re pushing them back already.  Two of their left flank units have already crumbled and ran back into the city.”

It had only been a half hour.  That did not speak well for the Imperial troops.   

Decaron was holding a thin glass of wine and a servant stood by with a plate of salted meats and cheeses. 

“Care for a snack?” Decaron asked her. 

She picked up a slice of meat and tossed it in her mouth without tasting it. 

“What’s your assessment?” She asked.

“My assessment is that this display of soldiering by the Imperial army is pathetic.  But this is just one of their armies.  They have eleven more.” 

He then smiled and went back to his wine. 

Greza then began to feel uneasy. 

“Something’s wrong,” she said.

Verin gave her a raised eyebrow but didn’t comment.

Then a purple swirling mist appeared in the open space in front of them.  The horses recoiled away and nearby soldiers readied their spears or pulled out their swords.

“Magic!” Someone shouted out. 

As she watched, the smoke coalesced into a looming shape.  A moment later the smoke was gone and in its place stood a troll. It was covered in armor and carried what looked like giant cleavers in each hand.  It loosely resembled a twisted man covered in hair.  It was tall and lanky and its jaws were massively over sized and filled with teeth.

Decaron pulled his two-handed sword from his back while the nearby spearmen charged the confused monster. 

The thing was massive.  It made Tempest look small.  The gray armor was strapped on and not fitted like true plate.  It’s sides, armpits and face were exposed.  That was little comfort because once it started to move, it moved fast. 

With one swing of its long, hairy arm it knocked several of the spearmen into the air.  The swordsmen spread out to get behind it while it tore into the spear platoon.  It picked up one man and tore his head off and tossed the body at the spearmen. 

It all was happening so fast.  It seemed like everyone else was moving under water.  There was nothing that could stop this troll from getting to Verin. The spearmen would stall it at best and the swordsmen had less of a chance.  Onata was trying to load a bolt into her crossbow but her openings were small on a moving target. 

It was up to her. 

She had to go for the face.  If she had a blade she’d go for the armpit, but with her cestus, smashing the face would be best.  Two problems though.  First: she didn’t know how tough a troll’s skull was.  She might not be strong enough to break it.  Second: the rampaging monster was three times her height.  How would she even get to its face to land a blow?

Verin and the other generals were turning their mounts away.  Why was everyone so slow?  One of the officers fell off his horse as it startled because of the nearby murderous beast.

That was her opening. 

Without stopping to second guess herself, she kicked her horse forward, pulled her legs up and jumped off her horse. 

She landed on the officer’s horse and immediately jumped off that. 

Greza sailed through the air over the surviving spearmen and right towards the enormous troll. 

It’s small red eyes saw her coming and its long arms began to move toward her.  It opened its mouth to let out a roar and revealed fat, sharp teeth like a dog’s.  She couldn’t control her direction and was like an arrow that had been fired. 

Its clawed hand reached for her but missed and she flew past it and right at his face.  Greza had her punch wound up and now brought it forward with everything she had. If she didn’t break its skull then it would grab her and tear her to pieces. 

Her metal fist smashed into the creature’s nose.  Immediately she heard bone cracking and felt her fist sink into its face.  The blow shook her arm and a sharp pain raced up hand.

The beast tumbled backwards with her on top. 

Once the giant hit the ground she rolled off and ran away to gain some distance in case it got back up. 

The beast was holding its face with one hand and thrashing around with the other.  It’s legs kicked out in every direction. 

Then something flew past her head with a faint whistle sound and struck the troll in the neck just above its armor.  It bellowed in rage while spitting up blood. 

The soldiers moved in and began hacking away at it.  Within moments the troll was just a bloody mess. 

Onata rode up next to her.  Greza looked up and saw that Onata’s eyes were wide and she was breathing hard.

“I’ve never seen a troll up close,” Onata whispered. 

Greza then looked over to Verin and the other generals.  Verin’s eyes were still on the dead troll.    

Then he looked towards her. 

“I don’t believe it,” Verin said.

“Did your bodyguard just take down a troll in one punch?”  Decaron asked. 

Greza looked down at her gauntlet and saw it was covered in blood.  Her arm felt numb.

Slowly she took off the cestus and felt her hand.  More sharp pain. 

“I think it’s broken,” Greza said.

“A broken hand?  Troll bone is tougher than iron.  You should be dead,” Decaron said. 

“Greza…” Verin said. 

“I’ll get her to the medic,” Onata said. 

Verin swallowed and then nodded his approval. 

“Grez, that was amazing.  That should have been impossible,” Onata said as she walked along side her. 

“I saw an opening.”

“What made you think you could take on a troll?  Never to that again.”

“Don’t want me to fight a troll then don’t threaten Verin with one.”

Onata shook her head. 

“Promise me you won’t do something that stupid again.”

“I had to try.”

Onata sighed. 

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re as crazy as they say you are.”

“Who says I’m crazy?”

Part 52

Greza sat on a log next to Tempest as engineers threw up a pontoon bridge.  The Imperials had destroyed the wooden bridge to slow them down.  It was a minor inconvenience at most.   

Tempest was carving something from a thick branch he picked up from the ground.  He was relaxed.  They were all too relaxed.

“We haven’t seen a single Imperial soldier.  Why aren’t they harassing us: attacking our baggage train?”  She asked.

“Because they have no experience at war.  They’re probably still trying to agree on a plan.”

They couldn’t be that stupid.

Tempest chuckled and continued carving.  His fingers were agile and he carved like he could do it blindfolded.  How was he so dexterous with fingers so large?

“Do you think we’re going to win?” She asked.

“It’s possible.”

“Technically, almost anything’s possible. It takes a great deal to list something as impossible.”

“Then it’s probable.”

“Is it probable that the Duke’s the Promised Victor?”

“Possible, but not likely.”

She continued to watch the bridge being completed as Verin conversed with his generals.  Other pontoon bridges were being made further up stream.  Their combined armies were too large for one bridge.  They couldn’t spend all day filing across one narrow bridge. 

Onata came running up with two bowls of something steaming.

“Got lunch!”

She handed them each a bowl and Greza sniffed it.  It smelled good, but not like anything she had ever had.  She sniffed it a few more times and looked up to Onata.

“It’s some southern food.  I don’t know what it is.  Just eat it,” Onata said.

She took a bite and it tasted as good as it smelled, but it made her mouth tingle almost like it was hot. 

“Caranum spice.  Love it,” Tempest said. 

Greza then saw movement off to the side of the camp.  Two scouts on horseback came riding up to Duke Verin.

“Looks like they found something,” Tempest said. 

She watched the scouts dismount and begin talking with wild gestures. 

“Definitely found something,” Onata said.

Something always had to happen just as she was about to eat or go to sleep.  She quickly shoveled a few spoon-fulls into her mouth, quickly regretted it, and hurried over to where Verin stood with the scouts.  She looked for a water skin the whole way.  Whatever that spice was, was delicious, but painful. 

Verin watched them approach with cold look in his eyes that she had never seen.

“You alright, Grez?”  He asked, but he continued on before she could answer. “They found a manor a few miles from here.  Ride with me.”

Before they could find out more he was already heading for his horse.  They had no choice but to mount up as well.  Tempest and two dozen cavalry went with them. Tempest rode in a wagon with crossbow men in the back.

When they reached the manor she saw that several scouts were already there.  Some were guarding what were obviously the owners of the estate.  They were finely dressed elves and they were kneeling on the ground with their hands on their heads.  Other scouts were keeping guard while people dressed as slaves were carrying furniture, paintings and other valuables out of the mansion.  Some slaves were breaking windows and smashing vases on the front lawn. 

“What is this?”  Greza asked, but no one answered. 

Verin dismounted and walked over to the five noble prisoners.  He had his hands on his sword belt and looked down at them.  There was a middle age woman, two teenage boys, (probably her sons) and a girl that looked about ten or eleven.  They all had the same silvery hair and silver eyes.   

“Why are you doing this?”  The mother asked.

“Please don’t hurt us,” the girl whimpered. 

Verin didn’t say anything for a few moments.  He stared down at them until they looked away. 

“Your property is forfeit.  It all belongs to what used to be your slaves,” Verin said.

“And us?”  The woman asked, fixing her gaze at Verin.

“You also will belong to your former slaves. I don’t imagine they’ll treat you with more kindness than you treated them.”

The girl began crying.

Greza had thought about this moment for a long time.  She had wondered what she would do if she were suddenly the master over her former owners.  Vengeance was usually the first thing she thought of.  She thought of the slaves that killed each other for amusement and the ones that found themselves mysteriously pregnant with babies that had remarkable similarities to their masters. 

They deserved to be punished, absolutely, but handing them over to a mob wasn’t justice: it was vengeance and nothing more.

She looked down at the two boys and the young girl.  They were wide eyed and shaking.  They couldn’t keep their eyes off of their home being destroyed by their former slaves.  Their world was being torn apart in front of them and they probably didn’t understand it at all. 

Did they deserve this?  What would happen to them once turned over to their slaves?  What would happen to the girl?  Greza could imagine it too well. 

Perhaps they did deserve this, but something didn’t feel right about it. 

“Verin,” she said. 

He didn’t hear her or chose to ignore her.

“Verin!”

He looked over and she saw the cold look in his eyes.

“Verin, can I talk to you in private?”

He nodded and they walked a little ways off and stood under a bushy tree covered in blossoms. 

“Isn’t this wonderful?”  He asked.

“This isn’t right.”

“How so?”

She waved her hand to indicated all the chaos.

“This isn’t right.  This is vengeance, not justice.”

“So?”

“They’ll tear these people apart and if they live, they’ll be left with nothing.”

“Sounds fair. But can you honestly tell me that you don’t want to punish your former masters?”

“I do, very much so, but not like this.”

He folded his arms and looked out at the manor with the looting slaves and the noble captives. 

“They all deserve to be punished, Grez.  They deserve worse than this.”

“Do you really want to be known as the man that sacked the Empire and killed its civilians?  I thought we were above them.  Right now you’re no different from the people that kept me as property.”

She shot an angry look to her.  She didn’t turn away. 

Then he let out a long sign and shook his head.  When he looked back to her he had a smile. 

“That’s why I keep you close to me,” he said and then turned and walked back to where the captives were. 

Verin stopped the looting, made the slaves leave with as much as they could carry and let the nobles go.  There would be no prisoners, no house burnings and no looting.  Their army would take supplies and such, but nothing else.

As they road back to camp she leaned over and whispered to him.

“Thank you.”

“I need a good kick in the face once in a while.  Who better to give it than you?”

“Tempest, maybe.”

“He might be the one person that could take you down, Grez.”

She looked back at the hairy, horned giant.  The minotaur was all muscle and was surrounded by an air of raw power, like an approaching black storm.  She didn’t see how she could possibly take him down. 

“You’re probably right about that.”