3. Soldier and marksman

Soldier and marksman


  • The waning moon stood high in the clear night, its light and that of a million stars somehow made the darkness… bright.
    A curse as much as a blessing really, it helped him find his way through the forest easier, but damn if those shadows didn't betray his senses.

    "Going to make it difficult to discern their scouts." He whispered to Ben.
    The older man merely smiled, as he did every single time again.
    "Don't worry lad, my keen eye, your steady shot. We'll live through the night easily." He whispered, and Mark could feel he meant it.

    _How long had it been now? Nearing on three years, he thought…
    Three years since the first night. Forced to join their Lord's army, because his father couldn't afford the taxes.

    He remembered vividly having an oversized scale mail pressed into his hands, along with a spear and a crossbow.
    He grinned faintly at the memory of throwing them to the floor, once in his barracks. Hurling the crossbow against the wall, to no effect.

    Ben had been there, smiling over Mark's fit.
    "You'd do well to take better care of that thing, kid," he said, "it will probably save more than one life someday, yours not the least of all..."
    Mark could do nothing but stare... frightful, confused and alone.
    His father had been sent to a different barracks and appointed to a different division, probably purposefully.

    "Put on the scales, kid, and pick up your spear... Go on, get to it, the officers don't take kindly to lazy Foot."
    Mark did as he was told, and was practically dragged down by the weight of the mail, picking up the spear and getting up straight proved a chore, let alone wielding it.

    Ben smiled again. "A farmer's son, barely old enough to wield a scythe... how old are you, kid? Fifteen? Sixteen perhaps? Probably haven't done anything but herd sheep up until now."

    Mark's hands tightened around the spear, and he could feel himself glaring, Ben's smile just got broader.
    "Alright, kid, I seem to be getting you in the mood," He picked up a quarterstaff standing by one of the bunks, and held it before him, "Go on then, have at me, we both know you'd like to."

    Mark hesitated for a moment, then thrust the spear at Ben.
    A pitiful attempt, he tripped.
    Ben tapped aside the spear, and planted the quarterstaff into Mark's gut.

    "Mind your feet, hold the spear higher and look at my eyes. Your opponent's face will tell you more than any twitch of his torso muscles.
    Again."

    Mark got to his feet, did as he was told and thrust again.
    He didn't fall that time, he still got the quarterstaff in his chest though.

    "Again."

    Again...

    "Again."

    Again...

    "Again!"

    Again!
    He thrust again, this time, Ben simply stood aside, and no blow followed.

    "Not even halfway decent, kid, but I'd hardly expect it from one your age.
    No reason to slap you around even more, you did the best you could."
    Ben smiled again.
    "But that won't save your hide. Trust me, take very good care of that crossbow, at least until you can lift the mail and spear without grunting.
    Now get to bed, the real training will begin tomorrow."_

    "Psst, lad…" Ben pointed, Mark shook his head, then looked for what Ben was pointing at. He now saw the irregularity in the tree's crown.
    He pulled the handle of his crossbow, and a few moments later, a dark figure stumbled out of the tree with a dry thud and the sound of a snapping branch.

    "Good shot, and look over there, it's their camp's fires...
    I think we had all of their sentries." Ben shook his head, "Only five... fools."

    "Well, that's our job done, let's head back and make ready. We've already taken longer than we should." He said, Mark nodded, and they were off.

    Hopefully, their last offensive would begin soon.


  • "Discharge? Wha… why?"

    Mark stood dumbfounded.
    The captain sighed, stood up calmly and walked around his office.

    "Mark, your orders were clear. If your superior fell, you were to retreat."

    "But our objectives were achieved..."

    Mark replied, but the captain cut him short

    "It doesn't matter, Mark. You disobeyed direct orders, you needlessly endangered the lives of other soldiers.
    You do not have the training nor the position to lead.
    You are lucky his Lordship didn't order a public switching, as the family of your fellow demanded.
    Personally I would've let them have their way..."

    "The Red Knight..."

    "Stow your whining, boy.
    The Red Knight doesn’t favour you anymore than she does any of us, despite your father’s capabilities.
    Quite frankly, I haven’t seen you live up to even half of his exploits.
    You will never get anywhere if you do not learn to respect your superiors.
    Now go, his Lordship’s orders were clear.
    Your status on his lands is now that of a peasant, you are to return your armour and weaponry.
    Your belongings will be returned to you, and you will leave for your village soon after.”

    _Mark sighed and did as he was told…
    “Maybe I should’ve done that in the first place.”, he thought.
    No… despite Ben losing his arm, if they would’ve retreated, more would’ve died…
    They took the camp, sure enough, none escaped, so the other groups couldn’t be warned.
    If they had retreated, every other encampment would know they were discovered.
    He cursed those bloody Lords and their bloody wars.

    Coming to the crossroads, he looked around.
    There was the road he once walked down, he hadn’t walked down in the past two years.
    The road home…
    But he didn’t walk down the road. He turned the other way.
    “Away from these wars between humans, these Lords, far away…”_


  • ((Double post >_<))


  • _Too soon, really.
    They had arrived at their encampment, only to find everyone packed and set. They were given just enough time to stack up on bolts and water, no food though, the fight should be over by morning.

    Ben went to their commander, Johansson, and relayed what they had seen, he then sticked with the head of the group, to guide the way. Ben was neither archer, nor Foot. Ben was Ben.

    Mark joined up with the Archers.
    A cheerful bunch, compared to the Foot, still, their faces were grim, and they were all silent.
    Most were far older than him, and though they mocked about his age playfully, they were glad to have him along.
    Kenneth was the only man anywhere near his age, and he was at least six years older. He was the one who convinced the commander to let Mark join the archers.

    Even he seemed in a foul mood though, and Mark couldn't blame him.
    He thought what was to come next.
    Their group was one of many, and their assignment was to take one of the many encampments in and around the woods, as all the other groups would attempt that night.
    They had to do it quietly though, so their enemies wouldn't warn the encampents that lay further in the woods.

    Attempts to win the conflict by open battle proved futile, and had lead to enormous losses on either side over the past months.
    Mark was just glad that no mages were getting involved in the batlles anymore, their reasons be damned.
    A fifth of the archers had been killed in one battle by a group of mages flanking them under invisibility and flinging fireballs at them.
    The Foot had it worse, boys, conscripts as young as he had been, trampled, beheaded, shot, burned…

    And all because of some bloody border dispute between two lords.
    Mark cursed them in the back of his mind.

    No matter now, the gods willing, the fight would be over after this night.
    He felt a pity for their enemies though, he wasn't fond of being the agressor.

    They were nearing the target now...
    A prayer for luck, one for courage and strength in battle, one for mercy, and several to the Red Knight, begging that his commanders knew what they were doing.

    No words were spoken, there were only looks to say goodbye, as their group surrounded the encampment.
    The signal was given, the archers launched a volley of arows towards the encampment, and a second one was already on its way before the first one touched the ground.

    A few moments after the first was launched, the first wave of the Foot charged in, without a battlecry though.
    Ben showed up and tossed Mark a halberd and shortsword._

    "Let's go, lad, can't let them regain their footing." He said, with still a trace of that smile on his face.

    _Apparently, Mark was neither archer nor Foot either.

    When they entered the encampment, the fires revealed that the fight was still going strong. Apparently, the volleys had had little effect; there were wooden walls put up all through the encampment.
    Not as much of fools as Ben had thought.

    He looked around calmly, overlooking the fight.
    Ben was already disposing of some warriors too busy to watch their backs.
    The enemy wasn't the only one suffering losses though, a quarter of the Foot lay dead or unconciouss already.
    Captain Johansson was in the midst of the fray, along with three other officers. They were holding their own well enough.

    He stuck his halberd into the ground and took up his crossbow again, which was hanging from his side.
    He aimed for the enemy's infantry, which was slowly overcoming their Foot.
    He took his time with every shot, determined not to rush a single one of them.
    One fell, and another, and another.

    The sound of an explosion.
    Cries of pain, followed by battlecries.
    Mark turned towards the sounds.
    There, where the ground was burned to a crisp, the officers lay dead.
    Captain Johansson was leaning on her blade as a new wave of infantry charged, though the Foot blocked their path swiftly.
    Kenneth and severl other archers ran up, curious to see what happened, only wavering a single moment before letting arrows fly towards the enemy.
    Mark joined in, and the infantry was slaughtered mercilessly.
    The mages had agreed not to join battle anymore, dammit!

    A shriek of pure agony caught everyone's attention.
    They all turned to where the Captain stood, only to see her die as she had caught fire, herself.
    Mark saw te mage in the shadows, he loaded his crossbow with a viciously sharpened bolt, and took aim._

    "Treaty be damned…" He muttered, and he let his bolt fly.
    He grinned, as it was a direct hit.

    "Retreat! Retreat!" A voice called. Mark cursed, it was Ben crying the order.

    "Hold! Stand your ground!" Mark called, as he ran up to Ben, Kenneth close behind him.

    Their Foot and the enemy's infantry were still fighting, though both sides seemed confused over the break in leadership. For a moment, they both stopped.
    Ben frowned deeply as Mark approached.

    "Lad, don't make this difficult, we have our orders." He said, looking just about ready to throw a punch.
    "What? Are you mad, Ben? We have the upperhand!"
    "Mark, listen to him, if we stay, it'll be on your head." Kenneth urged.
    "I know that well enough!" He snapped, "and so be it! If we let them escape, they -will- warn the other encampments! Others -will- die."
    "I c–"

    _An arrow struck Ben in his arm before he could finish that sentence.
    As Ben cried out and grasped for it, Mark and Kenneth had already retaliated. The battle was joined anew by both sides, and neither seemed willing to retreat any longer.

    By now though, the rest of the archers had approached, and due to them actually picking targets rather than sending volleys, the rest of their enemies were quickly repelled.

    Mark gave the order to hunt down those who fled, but stay out of the vicinity of other camps.
    After this, he returned to Ben.
    It wasn't a pretty sight, considering the wound, their distance from the main camp and the lack of priests, that arm would be amputated, or he would die.
    He'd spent enough time in the infirmiry to see that._

    "You should've listened lad, " he said, not smiling this time, " the situation was under control by my scouts."
    "-Your- scouts?" Mark's stomach felt like a lump of ice as he realised what he had just done.
    "Yes Mark, I was Captain Johansson's second in command…" He shook his head and continued, "I know you meant well, and as much as I may dislike it, this incident will be investigated and dealt with." He sighed and looked away. "Dismissed."

    He sighed as he waited for his archers to return, he grumbled on the march home, he cursed as he neared the lord's estates.
    But he walked with his back straight and his eyes open as he went to report.