Master of the rcenary
Three days after Lansius t with Batu, the nomadic tribesn stealthily moved across the Great Plains, setting up camp far south of Korelia. There they waited for the inevitable battle, their numbers swelling as many heeded the call to avenge their enslaved brethren captured by the Nicopolan rcenaries.
As dawn arrived in Korelia, Sir Callahan continued training Lansius and Sterling in the art of jousting. This day was likely their last as the enemy forces were closing into Korelia.
As an experienced knight, Callahan would not risk injuring the riders or horses through over-training. The riders and the horses needed to recover ideally for a week before the battle.
Lansius sat astride his destrier, eagerly aid his blunted lance at a wooden shield hanging on a rotating post firmly planted in the ground. Sotis he struck a solid hit, but often he missed, failing to align his lance expertly. His arm muscles were sore, feeling as if they were burning, even with the lance rest on his breastplate.
Nothing ca easy. Lansius had been practicing this skill since last year in Toruna, with only modest progress.
“Keep going!” Sir Callahan encouraged Lansius after his last missed attempt. “Mistakes happen; that’s why we train. Success is easy. How to survive from mistakes is what we trained for!”
Spurred by the encouragent, Lansius pressed on. Despite the aches, he tried again, spending the whole morning in training—practicing with lances, crossbows, and swords.
“That’s enough, My Lord,” Sir Callahan finally called off the training, stopping before rider and horse were thoroughly depleted. He motioned to Sterling, who had been resting as his horse lacked the stamina of a destrier.
Sterling helped Lansius dismount and escorted him to a nearby tent to seek shade. Lansius, with shaky hands, grabbed a jug of water and gulped it down.
As the squire, he removed Lansius’ training armor and noticed new bruises on the Lord’s shoulder, arm, and wrist, despite a layer of arming jack beneath the armor. “My Lord, you’ll need so salves.”
“Leave that for now,” he said breathlessly, lying down on a canvas bed.
Sterling nodded and left the Lord to recover.
After half an hour, Sir Callahan noticed Lansius had changed his clothes and looked refreshed.
“My Lord,” Sir Callahan greeted as Lansius approached him.
“Any news from Sir Justin and Hugo?” Lansius asked.
The knight smiled. “Not yet. Even with fast horse ssengers, it will take more ti.”
Lansius nodded, a mix of understanding and anxiety evident in his expression. Three days ago, he had sent them as envoys. The Imperium decorum dictated that a lord should extend courtesies if another lord was visiting their domain. It even suggested the types of gifts for the guest.
It was nothing but a political farce, considering most unannounced guests brought an invading force. Beyond the political theatrics, what he desired most was an accurate assessnt of the enemy’s forces. He needed more information.
However, he was left with no option but to wait. Taking in his surroundings, Lansius noted the war preparations around Korelia were well underway. Sir Callahan and the squires had been invaluable in preparing the n and the trenches.
Lansius glanced towards the blond knight, his ntor, the best support he could ask for. He had never received a harsh word from him; instead, he had been taught with a gentle hand, receiving daily doses of inspiration and motivation.
More than just a ntor, Sir Callahan was also their most able diplomat. The knight alone successfully negotiated a trade deal with the Eastern Lowlandia rchants, securing their grain for the rest of the year. For that, Lansius was truly grateful.
“Sir Callahan, you may take the rest of the day off. Take this ti to be with your daughters. We might need to mobilize either tonight or tomorrow.”
“Yes, My Lord. Does this apply to the rest of the knights and cavalry?”
“Indeed. Please inform them. We’ll feast in the Great Hall before sundown and await news from the Marshal.”
***
A week had passed. To the commoners of Korelia, the day started as any other—the sun slowly rising in the east under a blue, cloudless sky, heralding another sunny day in Korelia.
Unlike the hectic planting season of mid-spring, sumr was a relatively calm period. It was a ti when farrs and peasants saw their work start to bear fruit. Even with minimal tending, the crops on the farms grew taller, and the livestock fattened.
Sumr also marked the ti when the roads hardened enough for travel. After months of icy winter and muddy spring, rchants and peddlers resud their travels and trade.
This should have been a good ti of the year, but currently, things were looking bleak. On the western side, where there was typically nothing but empty plains, now stood more than a thousand tents. The invading army from the western Lowlandia had arrived.
Hundreds of flags and banners announced large contingents of knights. Their vibrant coats of arms contrasted with the predominantly green and yellow landscape. Many of the Houses were hundreds of years old and had played their roles in Lowlandia’s history.
Around a hundred horse-drawn carts were parked around the inner part of the camp, where the nobility resided. Fancy tents, so even lavishly adorned with bronze and gold embroidery, were evident.
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