Knight Chiovanni set down the beast-hide paper in his hands, his head bowed as he paced in circles around the great tent. He hadn't expected that in merely ten days since the army had marched out from Northfield Town, a force of over three thousand had already suffered losses amounting to nearly a full company of over five hundred men. The Northland army's organizational structure followed a quintuple system: each battalion comprised five companies, each company comprised five squads, and each squad had over a hundred men.
The beast-hide paper contained the statistics submitted by the quartermaster officer. Eighty-three scout light cavalry had been lost, one hundred and twenty soldiers sent on patrol had gone missing, around forty soldiers felling trees and gathering firewood had been killed, seventy-four soldiers perished in the first siege assault, one hundred and three were killed in the night raid, and with this latest batch of one hundred and thirty-one soldiers crushed or smashed to death by the stone boulders, the total death toll had already surpassed five hundred and fifty.
"Do you have anything else?" Knight Chiovanni asked the quartermaster officer standing before him.
"Uh, my lord, nearly two hundred soldiers were injured today, several dozen of whom will likely be permanently disabled. Combined with the seriously wounded from before, that makes over three hundred. In my opinion, keeping them in camp will have a negative effect on the other soldiers. To prevent a drop in morale, I respectfully request that your lordship dispatch an escort to send them to Northfield Town to recuperate and receive treatment for their injuries..." the quartermaster officer said.
"Agreed..." Knight Chiovanni stopped pacing. "You speak truly. The
The quartermaster officer said, "My lord, if we're to maintain a prolonged siege, we should have the troops escorting the wounded bring back another shipment of grain and provisions when they return. We only brought fifteen days' worth of rations when we set out, and what we have left is only enough for five or six days."
Knight Chiovanni nodded. "Better safe than sorry—preparing extra provisions is always wise. As for whether to maintain the siege or not, we still need to consider whether there might be some other strategy available."
…
"You're serious?"
"Yes, my lord. They're about twenty minutes away from here — forty wagons, all loaded with wounded. Three lance cavalry squads are escorting them, about three hundred and fifty men total including the drivers. We've been monitoring the camp, and the moment they set out, I came back to report." A breathless guard delivered the report.
Lorist made his decision instantly. "We take them out. We've been cooped up for seven or eight days — it's about time we moved. Paul Bins, go notify those four mercenary bands. If they're willing to follow me, they trail behind us. Don't alert the enemy, and don't let them spot you."
"Wassima, have everyone ready to move in ten minutes. We're heading out."
"Yes, my lord."
For the Northland Army soldiers heading back to Northwild Town, the journey was a short one — an hour and a half at most. It was a sweet assignment. Northwild Town had plenty of women. True, three or four hundred of them were off-limits because they were virgins the Duke intended to sell at a high price, but there were another five or six hundred married women they could do with as they pleased. After ten-odd days on campaign, it was time to relax and let loose. They really envied the thousand or so brothers garrisoned back in Northwild Town.
Watching the completely unsuspecting Duke's soldiers draw ever closer, Lorist flicked his reins, squeezed with his legs, and drove the spurs on his boot heels into his mount's flanks. The warhorse surged forward.
"Kill!" He was the first to burst from the treeline.
Javelins flew like lightning. From the tree line to the road was barely sixty meters. In the handful of heartbeats between Lorist throwing his javelin and plunging into the lance cavalry escorting the wounded, more than twenty lancers already lay dead on the ground, and Lorist was wielding a spear and cutting a bloody swathe in every direction.
Close behind Lorist, Wassima and Paul Bins led three squads of guards and Family soldiers sweeping in from the flanks. The guards threw javelins while the Family soldiers used their training longbows. Under Paul Bins's command, they didn't press into close combat — they simply circled the perimeter, raining javelins and arrows down on the enemy.
The convoy descended into chaos. Only then did the escorting lance cavalry realize they were under attack. Nearly a hundred lancers swarmed toward Lorist to encircle him, while another hundred-plus charged at the javelin-throwing guards and the archers of the Family soldiers pressing in around them…
The sounds of battle, the neighing of horses, and the screams of the dying filled the air without end.
The spear in Lorist's hand flashed like a sky full of cold stars, blanketing the space within three meters. Wherever he charged through on horseback, lance cavalry toppled one after another, clutching at grievous wounds as they tumbled from their saddles.
Wassima caught up to Lorist's side, her lance gleaming with pale white sword qi, and covered his right flank. The two charged forward like the rolling wheels of a war cart, crushing every shred of resistance in their path.
They carved from the middle of the convoy all the way to its tail end, and the road ahead opened up empty. Aside from a dozen-odd lance cavalry fleeing in the distance, not a single enemy remained in the vicinity still putting up a fight. Lorist reined his horse around and saw that of the lance cavalry escorting the convoy, only a few dozen were still fighting for their lives. The rest either lay on the ground or had scattered in every direction, pursued by mercenaries who shouted and whooped as they gave chase.
One lance cavalryman fell from his horse, and four or five mercenaries pounced on him. By the time they pulled apart, all that remained on the ground was a headless, stripped corpse...
The lance cavalrymen still resisting did not hold out for long before the swarming mercenaries cut them down. With no enemies left, the mercenaries quickly turned their eyes toward the wounded soldiers in the wagons. They rushed in, and screams rang out...
Lorist looked toward Wassima. Wassima said nothing.
"I thought you would go and stop them from hurting the wounded," Lorist said.
Wassima shook her head. "No. In another place, perhaps I would. Here, I won't."
"Why?" Lorist was curious.
Wassima let out a long breath. "They are wounded soldiers, but they are also the butchers who slaughtered the defenseless residents of North Wild Town. Being killed by the mercenaries now is simply retribution…"
Lorist said nothing.
Paul Bins approached with the guards and family soldiers.
Lorist asked, "How many casualties?"
Paul Bins replied, "My lord, only three fools were hit by thrown spears. We attacked from range on the perimeter — no close combat occurred, and no one died."
Lorist was quite satisfied. Eliminating the enemy was one thing, but the most important thing was preserving their own fighting strength. The family was situated in the far northern corner of the Northland, and what they lacked most was manpower.
"A dozen or so escaped. It'll take them about twenty minutes to run back, then another twenty-plus minutes for the enemy to send reinforcements. You have ten minutes to clean up the battlefield. Those mercenaries actually followed the rules — they didn't touch our spoils. We just want the mounts, money pouches, and weapons," Lorist said.
The aftermath of the battle left corpses strewn everywhere. The enemies killed by the guards and family soldiers bore throwing spears and arrows, making them clearly distinguishable. The mercenaries hadn't touched those bodies. The spear cavalry corpses that Lorist had killed with his own throwing spears were also left untouched. As for the dozens of enemies he and Wassima had killed later — either the distinction was unclear or someone had gotten greedy — six or seven of those corpses had been stripped bare, leaving only headless torsos.
"Yes, my lord." Paul Bins acknowledged the order and directed the guards and family soldiers to gather the spoils.
…
When Sir Cievani arrived with five hundred leather-armored cavalry an hour later, what greeted him was a field strewn with headless corpses and more than forty wagons utterly destroyed. Wounded soldiers, cart drivers, and the three squadrons of spear cavalry escorting the convoy — all had been stripped bare and had their heads cut off…
Six or seven hundred men! Apart from the dozen or so spear cavalry who had escaped, the rest lay right there. Sir Cievani was so furious he was about to explode, and every one of his five hundred leather-armored cavalry had bloodshot eyes. Swallowing his grief, Sir Cievani ordered the leather-armored cavalry to dismount and dig a mass grave, bury all the corpses, and then he led the five hundred leather-armored cavalry to Northfield Town.
After discussing the unsuccessful operations with Sir Henned, the Golden Knight left behind to garrison Northfield Town, Sir Cievani — anxious for the safety of the main camp — stayed for only one hour, left two hundred leather-armored cavalry at Northfield Town to prepare the grain shipment for the next day, and led the remaining three hundred leather-armored cavalry back to the main camp himself.
After noon the next day, the gates of Northfield Town swung wide open, and more than twenty wagons rolled out through them. The wagons were piled high with grain and fodder, enough to supply Sir Cievani's camp for around twenty days. Two hundred leather-armored cavalry split into two columns flanked the supply wagons on either side. Because of the ambush the day before, Sir Henned of Northfield Town had also specifically assigned three hundred longbowmen to escort the grain shipment and ensure its safety.
Lorist, Wassima, and Paul Bins sat atop their horses on a small hill, watching the distant column transporting the supplies.
Paul Bins finally couldn't hold back: "My lord, aren't we going to attack them? That's grain and fodder they're hauling! If we moved now, we could still get ahead and set an ambush…"
Lorist shook his head. "We're not going to attack them, because the one we're going to attack is over there — Northfield Town."
"Northfield Town?"
"That's right. You know why I ordered you and the four mercenary companies to stay away from Northfield Town and only observe from a distance?" Lorist asked and answered his own question. "Because I was afraid you'd alert them. Originally, Northfield Town had only a thousand defenders and we could have stormed it by force, but those four mercenary companies aren't on the same page as us — they're in it for money and won't fight to the death. Combined, we only have around twelve hundred men. My biggest worry with a direct assault on Northfield Town was that the four mercenary companies would slack off, putting all the pressure on our family soldiers. I feared that even if we managed to seize Northfield Town, the enemy's expeditionary force could launch a counterattack and we simply wouldn't be able to hold it — we'd be thrown right back out."
He pointed at the enemy supply column in the distance and grinned. "Now the enemy has finally been maneuvered by us — they've sent an additional three hundred longbowmen to escort the convoy. That leaves Northfield Town with only seven hundred defenders. If we launch a night assault, even if those four mercenary companies refuse to take the vanguard, our three hundred-odd family soldiers alone can take Northfield Town, and the losses won't be too heavy. Once we get onto the battlements, those mercenaries won't be willing to fall behind in a winning fight. They've already made a fortune off the Duke's soldiers and they're itching for another."
The convoy and its escort arrived safely at the camp before Maple Forest Manor. Knight Chevani was thoroughly frustrated. He had led three hundred leather-armored cavalry to lie in ambush in the woods at the bend in the road for eight hours, having arrived and hidden well before dawn — only to find none of the enemies he had expected would come to raid the supplies. He had no choice but to follow the supply convoy back to camp.
…
"You all understand the rules, right? If any of your company members cause trouble, they deal with themselves — don't dirty my hands, you understand?" Lorist said bluntly.
"People, we won't touch."
Lorist nodded. "Our family soldiers will follow me to seize the wall and open the city gates. You charge in through the gate. Watch for our signal. Paulbins, it's time for us to go."
The silver moonlight overhead was once again obscured by a layer of gray clouds. Lorist burst out from the small grove, Paulbins close behind him. The two gripped either end of a long wooden pole, racing swiftly and silently toward Northfield Town.
Lorist scaled the wall like a great black bird. Two dozing sentries jolted awake and were about to open their mouths to cry out the alarm when they felt their throats hiss like leaking air, their bodies go weak, and a searing pain surge through them as darkness swallowed their vision. Both guards crumpled to the ground.
Lorist stepped forward, grabbed the shoulders of the two guards whose throats he had just slit, and propped them gently against the corner of the wall. Even if someone spotted them, they would only look like lazy guards catching a nap.
The defensive garrison on Northfield Town's wall was even more lax than Lorist had anticipated. Along the roughly eighty meters from where he had climbed up to the city gate, he killed only fourteen guards — and every single one of them had been dozing, completely oblivious to anything happening around them. Above the gate, beside the winch mechanism that operated the drawbridge, six more guards lay sprawled. Without a moment's hesitation, Lorist cut their throats as well.
Raising a torch and circling it three times in the air, Lorist sighed inwardly. Back when he had attacked Northfield Town, the wall had been teeming with heads. Every time he had scaled the ramparts, he had been met with a flood of defenders rushing toward him — nothing like today, when climbing the wall felt as effortless as strolling down an empty street.
Six grumbling patrol soldiers walked over from the other side of the city wall. Lorist silently crept up on them, then suddenly leapt into action. His sword flashed several times, and the six patrol soldiers tumbled to the ground one after another...
With a soft "thud," three scaling ladders were placed atop the wall. Vashima was the first to climb up, followed closely by Paul Binns and the guards clad in double-layered iron armor. Finally, the family soldiers came up...
Seeing that dozens of men had made it up, Lorist whispered, "Paul Binns and I will lead the guards to open the city gate. Vashima, you're responsible for lowering the drawbridge and keeping watch."
Vashima lightly pounded his left chest. "Yes, my Lord."
In the gate passage, a dozen or so guards were lying sound asleep. Lorist didn't look and accidentally stepped on one. The soldier sat up and had just started cursing, "Blind fool..." before being stabbed to death by Lorist. Paul Binns and the guards behind him swarmed forward, swiftly finishing off the remaining guards.
The commotion had been considerable; two soldiers let out tragic screams before dying.
Lorist urged them on, "Hurry up and open the gate, let the mercenaries in..."
The gate was opened, and the drawbridge was lowered. The mercenaries from the distant woods were now charging over at full speed...
But the noise here had finally drawn the enemy's attention. A voice shouted, "Who opened the city gate?!"
This was followed by a panicked cry, "En... Enemy attack! The enemy has entered the city..."
The horns sounded — the alarm of an enemy assault. The mercenaries who had stormed through the gate roared, "Kill! Kill! Kill!" as they charged toward the scattered enemy guards rushing in from every direction...
Northeye Town descended into utter chaos. A slight curve formed at the corner of Lorist's lips. Northeye Town was his...
...