Horizon of War Series

Chapter 129: A Warning in Blood

A Warning in Blood

The drizzle persisted while a cold wind howled through the night. Lansius had returned to his command tent, and Audrey greeted him at the entrance. "Welcome back. How's the study?"

"Well, I've learned some interesting things. How about the training?" Lansius asked as they found themselves alone. Carla was catching some shut-eye in an adjacent tent, preparing for the night watch.

Audrey exhaled deeply. Seeing this, Lansius motioned for her to pause. "Apologies for asking."

"I really wish I could say I'm making progress, but I don't feel any different."

Lansius approached her, reached out for her shoulder, and began to massage it. "It's stiff. Perhaps you're trying too hard."

"I can't see any results, and that frustrates me," she paused, turning to him. "You must be tired. My apologies, I didn't mean to nag."

Lansius chuckled and patted her shoulder. He looked at the table and noticed a silver jug.

"Boiled water, as per your instructions," Audrey pointed out.

"I won't complain. But you really don't have to abstain on my account," she said, concerned.

"Ah, abstaining also clears the mind, so I don't really mind," he replied, then offering her a goblet. "Besides, it's not like you can't have any at all, just in small quantities."

"As long as the food is good, I shall have no complaints." She drank the water and afterward, both walked to their quarters.

Muffled sounds of dogs barking from outside were heard as the guardsmen went on their patrols.

"Did you increase the patrols?" She asked as they prepared to sleep.

"Yeah, I tripled them," Lansius said after brushing his teeth.

Audrey nodded and quietly resumed preparing her twin crossbow along with spare bolts. Lansius was ready, with a spear and sword nearby. In peace or war, they were accustomed to sleeping like this.

The only change, now that they were Lord and Lady, was their ability to select a set of 'clean' weapons for their quarters. While Lansius gave it little thought, Audrey believed that weapons that had taken lives might bring bad luck. Regardless, this preference was purely personal. As customary, their primary weapons, armor, and field equipment were stored in an adjacent space, serving both as an armory and a resting area for the squires.

"Have you got everything?" Lansius inquired as he made his way to the entrance of the quarters.

"Water, bread, an extra lantern, and oh, this gemstone too. All set," she responded. The gemstone she mentioned was a gemstone of light, another gift from Ingrid.

Lansius observed as Audrey activated the gemstone with a prolonged touch. The gem glowed with a bright white light, free of smoke or residue, and posed no risk of fire. This was not their first encounter with such a device, as Sir Stan possessed several in his manor. Its use was common among high nobles and the wealthy who had connections with the Mage Guild or associated traders to maintain them.

Lansius then proceeded to arrange three thin wires at their quarters' entrance, securing them to the nails on the wooden frame. The wires were a gift from Lord Jorge, one that was gratefully received by the couple. The strong but slender wires connected to several small bell-like brass objects offered them more protection than just relying on thick canvas and knots while on travel.

Despite the presence of guards outside and Carla with her trusted fighters inside, the Lord and Lady understood that, ultimately, their safety rested in their own hands.

***

Hilltop Encampment

It was the second day, and the men began early with breakfast before starting work on the fort's construction. Fortunately, despite the risk, there was no night attack.

After breakfast, mid-sized trees were felled and stripped of their branches. The trunks were then sharpened at one end and driven vertically into prepared holes in the ground, reinforced with additional wooden structures and ropes for extra strength.

A section of the palisade wall prepared the previous day quickly took shape. Other groups worked to erect the base of four wooden towers and two gates. Experts from Lord Jorge's army were brought in for consultation and to take an active part in the construction.

Lansius inspected the various work sites, pleased with the ample wood supply from the surrounding area for materials. Since taking command, he had always wanted to construct a Roman marching fort. He encouraged his captains and lieutenants to view this project not just as a one-off task but as a skill to master.

He shared stories of how the ancient armies in his homeland could build such forts at the end of every march. And how larger, more grand, and permanent forts were constructed for prolonged encampments. Lansius' stories about Roman fortifications surprised his men and gave them a vision of what was possible.

"I have no desire to burden you further," Lansius reassured them. "It's not my wish to have a wooden fort at the end of every march. That would be a luxury, even for me."

His officers chuckled, expressing their trust in Lansius' sensibility.

"However, I want you to learn about fort construction so that when there's a dire need, we can build it quickly. I pray that such needs never arise, but from the looks of it, we may need it in the near future," Lansius continued.

The men nodded solemnly.

"Learn how to build it. Gain experience. Imagine if we're defeated and need to construct a wooden fort to survive and care for our wounded. Do not rely on anyone else to build it for you. Currently, we may have carpenters among our ranks, but after such losses, who can guarantee?"

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Lansius' words put them in a better mindset.

"Sometimes, victory doesn't come from fighting, but from building a defense and standing guard," he concluded his sessions with his officers. While unsure of his inspirational impact, he had at least demonstrated eagerness for this skill to be mastered. From this event, diligent and aspiring officers could later be identified and promoted based on their expertise and skill in fort construction.

A group of cavalry returned through the still unfinished gate. Lansius saw Sir Harold dismount and approached.

"My Lord," the tall knight greeted.

"Sir Harold, what's the situation at the rear?" Lansius asked.

"The last of our supply carts is nearing. Lord Jorge has inspired his men, and they marched early."

"Excellent," Lansius remarked in high spirit. With the convoy secure, the first phase of their plan was achieved.

This fortified hill, merely four days from Umberland Castle, would serve as a perfect staging ground and a stronghold to secure their supply line. This success bolstered Lansius' confidence in his odds.

***

While waiting for the construction to progress and for Lord Jorge's arrival, Lansius held midday meetings with Sir Harold and Servius. These meetings were typically intended to discuss plans moving forward. However, with Umberland proving difficult to decipher, the conversation often veered off course.

As lunch was served, they resumed the discussion from the previous night. Since the campaign's outset, Lansius had established a new routine: after supper, he would hold sessions to learn about Umberland from Servius, Sir Harold, or other knights and members of his House.

As a foreigner, he recognized his limited understanding of this world, occasionally finding himself surprised by the different cultures and ways of life. Determined not to be caught unprepared, he decided to delve deeper, aiming to understand not just the land's topography but its people as well.

Their evening discussion, initially centered around Umberland, naturally drifted to Nicopola, the significant southern province with a strong influence in the region. As members of his House exhausted the topic of Umberland, they increasingly shared stories about Nicopola.

Lansius was keen to learn about Nicopolan culture and history. After all, if Centuria was the Imperium's birthplace and Tiberia its heartland, Nicopola was its stomach. The region was renowned for its fertile lands, forests, and valuable mines, including emerging coal mines.

What began as a way to pass the time—Lansius needed to be elsewhere so Audrey could use their tent for mage training—unexpectedly enriched him greatly. He delighted in his retinue's stories about the region's famous cities, people, cuisine, agricultural practices, and why some chose to become mercenaries as a side job.

The sun was beset by clouds that hung like fish scales in the sky. Although the clouds were black, it was uncertain whether they would bring a drizzle or rain.

After lunch was over, Sir Harold excused himself, citing duties with the cavalry. Lansius, too, was about to leave when Servius' cautious voice halted them. "Master, a word."

Sir Harold threw a sharp, questioning glance. Servius responded, "Please, it involves you too."

The use of "master" piqued Lansius' interest. "What is it, Servius?"

"The Nicopola province is now in chaos, and I see no one with the capability to pacify it. It might sound greedy, but you're the only one I see who has the ability to save Nicopola."

Lansius wasn't entirely surprised but still found it provoking. "Servius, that's a dangerous idea."

"My Lord, can't it be done for the good of many?" Servius asked.

"The good of many," Lansius echoed. "What is goodness, anyway?" His tone suggested that this was not a casual question. "Is it good because of the nature of the deeds themselves, or because of the results and their ability to stand the test of time?"

Sir Harold and Servius glanced at each other, unsure how to react.

Gazing at his retinue, Lansius explained, "If we somehow rescued Nicopola and were able to feed the hungry, it's obviously a good deed." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "But what about afterward?"

He allowed the silence to linger for a while before continuing, "What if this action results in hatred from the locals and nobility? What if in three or five years, we are branded as land thieves or oppressors? Gentlemen, make no mistake, without even a pretext to hold Nicopola, I think this will lead to wars."

Sir Harold quipped to Servius, "They're going to say a Lowlandian lord occupied Nicopola. Would your people bend their knees to a foreign lord?"

"Indeed," Lansius said, exhaling deeply. "What started as a good intention might result in even greater tragedy."

Servius did not answer but looked to the side seemingly pondering.

"Even if I wanted to, I can't act alone. I at least need an ally," Lansius muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.

His words caught Servius' attention, who looked hopeful saying, "I know a lord. He's in southern Nicopola, near the coast. He's old and stubborn but capable. His House should survive this turmoil."

"Avery Dawn?" Sir Harold ventured.

"You've heard of him?" Servius asked the knight.

Sir Harold nodded. "I've never met him, but the Nicopolans often mention regretting coming here, feeling they should have gone south to raid the land of the Dawns."

"They won’t make it. The Dawns are not to be underestimated," Servius stated confidently. "This is why the condottieri chose to cross into Lowlandia."

Listening to them, Lansius urged, "Tell me about him."

Servius gestured towards Sir Harold, but the knight shook his head. Servius then prepared himself. "He's a baron. His name is Avery Dawn or the Lord of Dawn."

Lansius stroked his chin. "Dawn? A family name?"

"Their ancestors aren't native to this land. I heard they were originally from the Mercantile Kingdoms. The Imperium granted them virgin land, and they made the most of it. Despite having capable men, they refused to expand unless sanctioned by the Imperium."

"Interesting story..." Lansius mused. "How do you know they have good men?"

"The Imperium used to call for their services, and when they did, they showed just how a small contingent could become a thorn on the battlefield, stubbornly holding their ground against the odds."

Lansius nodded, satisfied with the small chance of allying with a powerful lord. However, his excitement was short-lived. Sterling arrived, his haste indicating he carried an urgent report. "No need for formalities, give me your report," Lansius instructed.

"My Lord, one of our forward scout parties has been butchered," Sterling reported.

"Butchered?" Servius asked, concerned.

Sterling motioned to the guard at the entrance, and then a man clad in dark fur cloth entered. With reddened eyes, he knelt before Lansius, his voice trembling as if pleading, "My Lord," then he saw Servius and cried out, "Servius, a fell beast killed my uncle. It even devoured my cousin's body!"

Lansius gestured for his guards to stop in their tracks. He allowed the man to weep his heart out, and when it was over, he poured him a drink and said, "I don't want you to relive the horrors. But I need someone who can tell me exactly what you found. I want every detail."

....

The same scout reported on the carnage in great detail. He described seeing the scouts' bodies mutilated, strewn about with bite marks too large for any wolf, but with footprints different from those of bears. Worse still, one body was impaled, likely after death. The victim's torso and arms were facing north toward Umberland, while his head and legs were grotesquely bent at the neck and hips, facing south toward the city of Three Hills.

"It looks like a message," Sir Harold said after the distressed scout was escorted out by Sterling and the guards for some much-needed rest.

"It's definitely not the work of a bear, but could it be man-made?" Servius asked, skeptical.

Noticing the lord had no immediate opinion, Sir Harold suggested, "The proper course would be to call for a Hunter or Mage, but securing one on such short notice, especially in Lowlandia, is unlikely."

Servius nodded. "Indeed, Nicopola has a Mage Guild, but given the current situation... What about Midlandia?"

Sir Harold shrugged. "The Hunter Guild in Midlandia is smaller than in Elandia. I'm not sure if they would take the job, and even if they did, it would take weeks to reach here."

Lansius hesitated to mention that he had Ingrid at his disposal, but she was a tutor now, no longer a fighter. He exhaled deeply, supporting his chin with his right hand, feeling troubled by the new unexpected threat.

Is there even a mention of fighting monsters in the art of war? He wondered.

Still, he prioritized his men's condition. He knew he needed to respond appropriately; otherwise, morale could plummet.

But what is the right approach? Should I impose a gag order and keep this tightly sealed?

Lansius vividly recalled the report detailing the grotesque manner in which the men were butchered. This made him aware that even his veterans may not be able to resist fear from fell beasts. Despite their training, men of this era were easily frightened, as society remained deeply superstitious.

***