Horizon of War Series

Chapter 139: Silentium Noctis

Silentium Noctis

Lansius

After supper, Servius entered the command tent with Sterling. The old Nicopolan acted as if nothing were amiss and quickly reported what he had learned about the province since his departure. Lansius listened as he outlined his findings, suggesting that, aside from several hungry groups, the region was practically empty for several days' journey on foot.

"Sir Arius from Three Hills and even the Umberland people previously reported a large group of Nicopolans. Where are they now?" Lansius inquired from his seat, his blue brigandine worn loosely.

"Without food and terrorized by the beastmen in Umberland, they're leaving the mountain pass and moving south, likely aiming to take their chances at Dawn Barony," Servius said with bitterness in his voice.

"How many are we talking about, and do you think Lord Avery could handle it?"

"Just some guesses, probably five thousand reinforcing a similar number of forces, if not more."

The large number bothered Lansius. "Are they all armed?"

Servius seemed to ponder before answering, "No. Just like what we've encountered in the bulwark, from this point on, there will be a lot more noncombatants in the mix."

Lansius unintentionally stared at the canvas wall, noticing the shadows from the lanterns moving as if alive. He had no prior intention to ask but decided to give it a thought. "Tell me, what parties are involved in the fighting in Nicopola?"

"Well," Servius paused, gathering his thoughts. "There are the locals like me and my men. There are also war refugees from West Centuria, and migrants from Sarmatia, each with their own agendas."

Lansius gave no reaction but listened intently.

Servius continued, "The sons of Nicopola have traveled north to raid Elandia. Some fools have tried to go south to confront Dawn's territory, but they were defeated decisively."

Despite his interest in how the Dawn could repel presumably large forces, Lansius kept his priorities, asking, "How fractured are the sons of Nicopola?"

"There's infighting, but hungry men will welcome anyone with food," Servius responded lightly. "The bigger issue, though, is how to stand against the Sarmatia migrants and the war refugees from West Centuria. They're all scrambling for control."

"If someone could unite the sons of Nicopola, couldn't they try to talk it out with the other parties?"

"They're out for blood. There's too much bad blood already," Servius replied bitterly.

Lansius mulled over this. "This sounds like it’s going from bad to worse, Servius. I personally don’t want to get entangled in it."

Servius stood silently, his gaze unfocused.

Assuming Servius had nothing else to report, Lansius praised him, "Good work on the report."

Servius bowed his head a little. "Then, My Lord, what is your answer to my request?" His words were heavy, laden with anticipation.

Lansius shifted a little in his seat and answered, "As I said, I don't want to get entangled."

Servius seemed about to interject, but Lansius stopped him with a raised palm. "I know you'll try to convince me, but hear me first. We need to find a compromise."

"A compromise?" the old man squinted.

Lansius used his most persuasive tone, "Let's put it this way: You and your men wish to return to Nicopola, while I and the Lowlandians are not prepared to embark on another campaign."

Servius found himself conceding the point, allowing Lansius to continue, "You're aware of how exhausted my men are. They need recuperation. More than that, my tenure in Korelia has been just two short years, and I'm content to hold my domain and maintain peace." He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing, "The reason I ventured into Korimor was because of the threat posed by Lord Omin. And the reason I forced myself to march to South Hill was the dire need for food faced by your people."

Servius' expression turned unreadable.

"Meanwhile, as you know, the campaign to Umberland is aimed at protecting Lowlandia and the Grand Alliance. But in doing so, my forces and personnel are stretched thin," Lansius said, leaning forward persuasively. "We need time to consolidate. My House, like trees, needs time for its roots to grow deeper into the land we've just acquired."

Servius looked at Lansius and, trying to convince him, said, "My Lord, I apologize for asking, but Nicopola is ripe for the taking by anyone bold enough."

Lansius smiled; he had expected this. "I'm not saying I'm against it."

Servius furrowed his brows. "Does that mean—"

"Don’t jump to conclusions," Lansius cautioned him. "I merely said I’m not against it. That's why I proposed a compromise. A win-win solution."

"Then, let me hear it, My Lord," Servius urged with anticipation.

Lansius had come prepared with a plan. "You're a legion commander, aren't you? Tell me, can you form an effective mercenary group with the men available?"

Surprised, Servius thought hard, his eyes darting. Instead of answering directly, he asked, "Does this mean you’re going to form a free company?"

"No, you will form it for me," Lansius clarified. "I’ll be your patron. I'll arm and fund your legion accordingly, depending on task completion and the amount of villages or land you secure for me."

Servius began to see the seriousness of this proposal. "My Lord, if I manage to secure the land on my own—"

"Certainly," Lansius interjected before he could finish. Then, in a calculated move, he tempted him, "I too started from the bottom with little noble blood in me. I have no doubt you can do the same."

The old man gazed at Lansius sharply, seemingly trying to gauge his intention. Yet, Lansius remained calm, his anxieties hidden away. The times spent with his wife had fortunately made him impervious to even a half-beast's stares.

After a while, Servius muttered, "The law will not be on my side."

Lansius poured spiced wine from a silver pitcher into two golden goblets and offered one to Servius, who took it gratefully. Lansius sipped his wine before replying, "The Imperium is crumbling. If you value your House, then this is a golden opportunity. Whoever is left standing in the Capital will likely seek your cooperation."

Hearing that, Servius drank from his goblet, yet the wine seemed unable to affect his courage.

"As long as you're not too greedy, hoarding land you cannot manage or hold, you should grow a powerful House," Lansius said, observing Servius' indecision. "As for my reason, it's all about managing risk."

"Manage risk...?"

"Indeed. I want to protect myself from potential losses. You'd do well to follow my example. Try to lessen your risk if you can. As for me, if I directly lead a campaign to Nicopola and face defeat, I could potentially lose all my standing in Lowlandia and even face mutiny within my ranks. Thus, I prefer to use a proxy."

"A free legion to do the dirty work," Servius mulled.

"I don't see why mapping the region and saving people from famine is considered dirty," Lansius hinted at the task he had in mind. "But I agree that waging war on someone's behalf is far from clean. As for me, whether you win or lose, I'll keep my forces intact."

Servius put the goblet down, his concern evident. "But, My Lord, a free legion is expensive."

"The benefits outweigh the costs. It's better than risking my entire domain in Lowlandia," Lansius responded without hesitation, his tone suggesting this was all a matter of cold calculation.

Servius' eyes wandered, lost in thought. After a moment, Lansius continued, "So, what do you say? I'll provide some funds for recruitment since eventually, you'll confront large groups. That, and also enough food to sustain three hundred through winter."

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

The Nicopolan looked to the side and inhaled deeply. "Why offer me this opportunity, My Lord?"

"What else?" Lansius declared as if the answer was obvious. "I need allies, and frankly, I see no better candidate than you in Nicopola."

"My Lord," Servius began, his tone now carrying a mix of respect and resignation, "I am humbled by your grand offer, but I must decline. Such an offer is beyond me, and would certainly be wasted on me."

Lansius smiled, not disappointed by the answer. "Then how about if you select or promote someone else for the role?"

"There's nobody who could fill such a role."

Taking another sip of his wine, Lansius posed another question, "Then what will you do if I march back to Korelia?"

"I'll follow your commands," Servius said, but his words rang hollow.

Lansius stared at him intently and asked what was on his mind, "I'm worried about your men's reception to this."

Servius exhaled deeply, straightened his back, and answered, "I'll keep them in order. Today's embarrassment shall be no more."

"Are you sure you and your lieutenants can handle them?" Lansius asked, worry lingering in his voice.

"Some are stubborn, but they're not without ears," the old man quipped.

Lansius found it amusing and relaxed in his seat. His instinct told him that he could trust Servius. Yet, he still felt it would be better if Servius had accepted his plan and ventured out with his select men, thus erasing all risk of mutiny. This would also allow him to control them indirectly while separating them from the bulk of the other Nicopolans in his army.

With Lansius in direct control of the bulwark, he could seal the mountain pass at a moment's notice, blocking men and information from reaching unwanted parties. In the event of a catastrophe, he could cleanly cut off Servius and his men.

Ironically, the old condottiere's loyalty forced Lansius to abandon his plan. With no other options available, he was left to wait passively, preparing as much as he dared without arousing the Nicopolans' suspicion. Yet, this situation also brought hope, allowing him to finally shift his focus and plan his return home to Korelia.

***

Night came and engulfed the camp in an eerie silence. The wind in the mountain pass blew hard, dry to the skin and chilling to the bone. The horses were restless, making small noises and snorts that indicated their displeasure at being there. Bred at the Great Lowlandia Plains, they disliked the taste of the mountain air and its sparse grass.

They were not the only ones restless. Lansius sighed loudly. While guards stood watch outside, nobody else was awake inside the tent. Audrey had fallen asleep, and Sterling, as a precaution, had joined the night watch. Meanwhile, Carla spent the night in her fellow's tent, closer to the Nicopolan tents.

Lansius sat alone, holding report scrolls in his hand. He noted that out of the 300 Dragoons he had, about 100 were likely compromised. They were of Nicopolan origin, capable riders, equipped like men-at-arms with crossbows, and thus considered a formidable fighting force.

Currently, he still had the advantage of numbers since he had only brought his cavalry, and his main army was camped separately further away. However, by tomorrow, his main army would arrive, and that would turn the tables against him.

The main army under Sir Harold was almost exclusively Nicopolan. At least 1,200 men, moreover, Servius also had separate command of another 300 attached to the main army.

"Just shy of 1,500 Nicopolans," Lansius muttered to himself uncomfortably. And that was not counting the camp followers who were still following and those who had stayed in the three villages.

Despite Servius' assurances, Lansius didn't readily accept them. The risk was far too great to feel comfortable so easily. He realized that human nature was driven not only by logic and honor but also by fear, mistrust, and greed.

If a spark occurred and became an uncontrollable fire, it could easily trigger a bloody conflict—one that his House might not recover from, whether in political standing or militarily, for a long time.

Lansius couldn't help but stare at the carpet and sigh. His eyes wandered, looking for fresh ideas. However, as expected, none materialized.

Wearily, he returned to what he had, taking a scroll from the table that read:

30 Nomadic horse archers and scouts, led by one of Batu’s sworn brothers.

50 Mounted Crossbowmen, led by Dietrich.

He could also count on Sir Harold's:

10 South Hill Knights,

40 Cavalry, and

50 South Hill men-at-arms.

"Even with the 200 loyal Dragoons, it's not even 400... against 1,500 in a tight mountain pass," he groaned softly at the futility of it. He looked at the scroll for the last time and grew sick of it, tossing it onto the table and then shifting in his seat. He glanced at his sword and crossbow to the side and just let the time pass.

Once calmed, he couldn't resist thinking about his bed in South Hill. Of all the places, that one was the most comfortable.

Perhaps, I could get the carpenters to copy it.

Naturally, Lansius intended to make one for his chamber in Korelia. It was just another item on the long list of things he wanted to do once he returned. The thought alone made him happy. Yet, after another sip of wine, his mind drifted to a different bedroom—not the grand one in Korelia, but a more humble one in Bellandia. Then, the faces of his family flashed in his mind, overwhelming him with remorse.

Deep down, he realized he had mentally blocked out his family because he knew he probably wouldn't see them anymore. Preoccupied with all kinds of issues in Lowlandia, his hope that Lord Bengrieve would ever find them gradually dwindled. There was a time when Lansius had expected a letter, yet no such letter ever arrived.

Instead, he had received early reports that the war in Tiberia had begun. He had also heard that Lord Arte had returned to Arvena and waged skirmishes behind Lord Gottfried's lines.

He looked up and felt his neck muscles tense. As he blinked, his stiff facial muscles let him know, without even needing a mirror, that his eyes would be blackened from lack of sleep. It wasn’t the marching that wearied him, but the half-beast attack. Ever since that night attack, he had trouble falling asleep. Hence, his appetite for wine grew, as it helped him get some much-needed rest.

Unwisely fighting off his drowsiness, Lansius took a wax tablet and its wooden stylus from the table. He felt that writing eased the edginess in his nerves.

He wrote bullet points. First was that he had wasted almost no resources in Umberland. His troops were intact, his allies added, and he had secured a cluster of three large villages that could easily grow into a town with enough manpower, direction, and investment.

Lansius followed up with his to-do list. First was: that he needed all the latest information he could get about Nicopola's current situation to better safeguard his newly taken mountain pass and bulwark. Unfortunately, his wandering minstrels couldn't penetrate the hunger-driven situation in Nicopola, so his intelligence would be limited to long-range cavalry scouts and information from captured or converted individuals.

Thus, the reason his most able lieutenants had been spending time interviewing as many people from the bulwark as they could, risking the plague to learn about the latest situation. Lansius also had confided in them to find out how the beastmen had defeated the Nicopolans in Umberland.

As much as he respected Lord Beatrix, Lansius still needed a plan in case the winds suddenly changed direction.

As the old adage goes in the military: be polite and be prepared to kill everyone you meet.

Lansius was still pondering when Audrey appeared from the inner section of the tent. He glanced at her as she approached silently and began massaging his shoulders. He let out a soft moan and asked, "I thought you were sleeping?"

She smiled and whispered, "Hard to sleep without you beside me."

Her words brought a broad smile to his face. To break the silence while he enjoyed the massage, he asked, "Drey, do you know how many villages there are in Nicopola?"

"Villages...?" She raised an eyebrow. "Must be a lot."

"At least five hundred villages, according to the last census two centuries ago."

Audrey echoed in surprise, "Five hundred..."

"And at least dozens of towns and cities," Lansius added, enjoying the touch of her fingers that had now reached his back and neck. "This is not Arvena or Lowlandia. Nicopola is as big as Midlandia and more populous. It's fractured into several baronies that have fostered growth. Not to mention, it has access to Centuria and also to Tiberia through Elandia."

While Audrey was still grasping the scale, Lansius continued, "The war with the beastmen attracted the most powerful to acquire lands in Nicopola. At that time, the province also offered a lot of opportunities for large farmland and low taxes."

Audrey smiled and asked in jest, "What is this, your secret wish to conquer Nicopola?"

"On the contrary," he replied, "I realized a long time ago that it was nearly impossible, or at least it would require years, if not decades."

Audrey nodded. "Indeed, if Nicopola is that big, then we'll need Sir Justin and Hugo just to handle the army."

"That is true," he commented, pausing for soft moans, "but we'll need someone of their caliber to hold our domains. Korelia and Korimor aren't fully secured."

While pressing hard on his back muscle, she suggested, "If you need talent, consider recruiting Ingrid into your ranks."

"Ingrid? But isn't she a member of the Mage Guild?"

Audrey sighed. "Husband, your approach is too rigid. Good talents are to be bribed, poached, or even taken hostage to work for you. Besides, she's going to retire soon, right?"

"Ah, that's true. Why didn't I think of that?" he felt dumbfounded.

"She's an excellent educator. We need more talented people in our ranks. Maybe she could introduce even more talent."

"This is a great idea," he muttered. "Who do you think should do the talking?"

"I'll do it. You have war plans to take care of. As long as you can promise a villa or a tract of land in one of your baronies."

Lansius approved. "That can be arranged. After all, there's only going home after this business is finished."

Audrey smiled upon hearing the word 'home.' Soon, they called it a day and were about to retire when they heard the guards calling out to someone. Stern voices and the sound of movement outside followed.

Alerted by the commotion, Lansius and Audrey quickly armed themselves. Only then did four guards in plate armor, necessary to counter a half-breed attack, enter along with Carla. "My Lord, My Lady," she said breathlessly.

"What happened?" Audrey asked, her expression unworried.

"Fights have broken out in the Nicopolan tent," Carla reported urgently.

"Did Servius just rebel?" Lansius asked, his tone heavy.

"No, it's near his tent, but the Nicopolans are going against him," Carla responded.

Lansius was puzzled, and Audrey took over, "Who is fighting whom?"

"It's between the Nicopolans themselves," Carla clarified.

Lansius shook his head; he hadn't expected this turn of events.

"How bad is the fighting?" Audrey asked.

"I see men on the ground and a burning tent." Carla's said, her tone grave.

Audrey gazed at Lansius, who commanded, "Get the horses ready."

She nodded; it was their contingency plan. Then, turning to Carla, she said, "Help me with the ringmail."

At that moment, Lansius asked aloud, "Is this related to reinforcements from Sir Harold?"

"No, they have yet to arrive," one of the guards reported.

Lansius, still clad in his brigandine, dashed to his seat to retrieve a shield he had stashed nearby. "We need to quell this quickly," he explained to Audrey and the guards. "Once the unrest spreads, it'll be impossible to control."

Realizing his intention and urgency, the guards shouted to his aides, "Escorts! Bring long torches and lanterns!"

Lansius then rushed outside, calling to the guards, "Follow me! And where's the damn night watch?" None could answer. He spotted the youngest among the guards as he walked toward the troubled area and instructed, "Wake the rest! We need all the men we can get."

***