2k words. Sorry about the delay, wasn't happy with some of it, had to change it up a bit.
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“No, never,” he replied. “But I agree with the warboss. Their eyes are sharper than an eagle’s, we’d do well to keep a distance.”
Morgoroth looked annoyed that Kessel wasn’t taking his words to heart, huffing in annoyance.
“We’ll move three leagues ahead and no more,” Kessel decided. “Every moment is another that our homeland remains under threat. Are we agreed? Good. I am placing Roderick in command of our scouting efforts. Our forces will only proceed once both he and I are confident the way is clear.”
All eyes turned to Roderick, and he couldn’t blame them. It was the first time he’d had heard of this development also, but he saw no reason to voice it at the moment. Instead, he said: “It will be so, Captain. Though their won’t be much to scout with our lack of horses.”
“Edouart will provide you with all the riders you need,” Von Kessel said, waving in the Brettonian’s direction. This was all news to the young knight as well. “I expect your men to follow our command, ser?”
“His skill in the saddle surpasses most everyone in this tent, we’ll listen to him.” It was a bold thing to say to the Captain’s face, but Von Kessel didn’t’ seem to pick up on the comment.
“What about us, eh?” Morgoroth interjected. “What are me boyz supposed ta do while you ‘umies do all da work? Themz Chaos boyz got us all riled up for some more action!”
“The whole point of mapping the north is so we don’t encounter the foe,” Von Kessel muttered, speaking as though Morgoroth was a child.
“Wha’? Did that tiny brawl last night spare you of yer marbles, Cap’n? Thought the whole point of this here excursion is to be killin’ the foe, not ignorin’ them.”
“Tiny brawl?” Von Kessel scoffed. “You weren’t even there, if I recall correctly. What were you doing while our lives were on the line?”
“Sleepin’. I only wake up when there’s a real fight.”
Von Kessel opened his mouth to retort, but Roderick cut in first.
“Perhaps you would like to lend us some of your own riders,” he suggested. “Bael may have scouts of his own out there, it’s not impossible we may encounter them. The scouts will have the first contact.”
Morgoroth stroked his chiselled jaw, considering.
“Hm, I guess that’ll satisfy some of me boyz – for now. But if there’s any hide or hair of Bael, we’re killin’ him on sight. Nothin’ worse in life than lettin’ the thorn in yer back live.”
Von Kessel looked at him, as though to say I hope you know what you are doing. “If that’s settled, how long before you can begin, Roderick?”
“Before noon, at the latest. I’ll need a map and some time to draft a strategy. Morgoroth, Edouart, send your fastest riders to my tent, tell them to pack enough rations.”
Once everyone was in agreement, Von Kessel dismissed them. Roderick was given one of the illustrated maps of the province, and he rolled it out on his desk when he retired to his tent, pulling up a quill and ink. The lands to their north and east were illustrated with valleys veined with rivers, and dozens of castles dotted between. These Contreforts were rough terrain, and the castles were likely positioned on the peaks – highly defensible against assaults. That would pose no problem if the forts were manned, but if bandits or Chaos had taken over any of them, there would be casualties. Even a small number of men in an uphilled castle could hold off an army a hundred strong. It would be best to thread between the forts.
These valleys levelled as they stretched east, up to a coast that bent from north to east and south. Land on the other side ran parallel, forming a channel that speared east – the Reik river, which cut straight into the Empire. It looked no distance at all, but he knew there were still hundreds of leagues between here and the border, getting there would take weeks, assuming they kept pace.
He had gone over his approach a couple times when his scouts reported in. He had them assemble outside his tent, Roderick taking a headcount as they milled and chatter amongst themselves. Ten Brettonian riders, five Imperial sailors, who Roderick knew could handle a horse well enough, and maybe a dozen orc riders, who had reigned up on their overgrown boars, laughing and hollering, clearly excited at the task ahead.
He wasn’t surprised to see Mazkha among their number, the she-orc waving at him as she dismounted her boar. The overgrown war beast made the nearby destriers look like ponies in comparison.
“Fall in line, everybody!” Roderick shouted, pulling up a stool, so he could stand on it and everyone would see him. The chatter died down, Mazkha directing the orcs to stand towards the back, so the humans didn’t have a blocked view. She was nothing if not courteous.
“Most of you are aware of why I summoned you, but I shall go over it for those who aren’t. The forces of Chaos caught us by complete surprise last night, as you know, their leader managed to manoeuvre a significant force within striking distance of our camp, and it cost us many lives. If you’re standing here today, it means you are the ones who are going to stop it from happening again.”
Roderick gestured over his shoulder, to the hilly lands beyond the forests.
“The Empire and Marienburg lie that way, but between us and there lies the Contreforts, hard ground with plenty of valleys and narrow passes – a perfect place to stage another ambush, in other words. We cannot pass the Grey Mountains themselves, they are far too treacherous, so we must clear the path around them for the rest of the men to follow. I will not lie to you, this will be a dangerous undertaking. We are few enough in number as it is, but we will be separated from the camp for multiple days at a time. The foe knows we are here, and I am almost certain they will have left men or traps in place for our approach. We will be the tip of the spear, should they be laying in wait for us.”
The men looked uneasily to each other, while the orcs seemed enthralled by his words, chuckling as though they couldn’t wait to be off.
“We will move five leagues up the road to the north,” Roderick continued. “Once we’re at a distance, we will split up into several pairs. I will continue to follow the road as far as it can, while the rest of you will fan off in each direction of the compass, so we cover the most ground as possible. No one is to ride out for more than three days before turning back. As pathfinders, you will make note of anything of note – dangerous terrain, rivers, bridges, roads, forts, and of course, signs of Chaos. No man or orc is to go out on his own, I want everyone in designated pairs before we ride out. Make it so.”
At his gesture, his group of pathfinders began to scuttle and find partners, Roderick standing back and watching. He didn’t want to pick for the men, they knew each other better than he did, they knew who they could work with best. Most of the men and orcs were sticking close, but he was amused to see one of the orcs giving a Brettonian a pat on the back, the motion companionable enough, even if it sent the knight tumbling forward. Those two must be on familiar enough terms.
“Little knight!” a familiar voice called, Mazkha stepping to the front of the group. As usual, she wore a leather vest, a fur skirt, and not much else beyond a few leather belts and holsters for her spears and javelins. “Little knight, ain’t none of these tossers wanted to ride with me. How about you and I go out on this one?”
Roderick raised a brow at her, finding it hard to imagine that none of the orcs would want to pair up with the warboss’ sister, of all people. It hadn’t escaped his notice that most of the orcs had indeed approached her when he’d given the order.
“You can make a group of three,” Roderick replied.
“Nah, I prefer it when we’re one on one. What do ya say? Be my partner?”
He could tell by her toothy grin she was being coy, Roderick picking his words carefully.
“I could use someone to help keep your riled up orcs in check. Very well.”
She beamed, moving over to stand beside him. She was so tall, her muscular figure covered in a hint of perspiration, making her green skin shine. He could almost feel her sheer physicality on some deeper level, yet beneath all the brawn was still the curved makings of a woman, and it drew his eye.
“Everyone ready?” he asked, noting the group had split into team of two or three. “Good. Remember, our duty is to provide safety for Von Kessel’s vanguard. Spare no details, but do not risk your lives for the sake of details. If you find any significant danger, report back directly to me, and we will act accordingly. Mount up, we ride immediately. Make it so.”
-xXx-
Pounding hooves thundered around and behind him as Roderick flicked the reigns, his destrier taking him into a pace that wasn’t quite a gallop. A mix of orc and human riders shadowed him down the incline, a wedge of dust drifting up in their wake as their mounts pounded the soil.
On his right the tips of the camp poked up from the ruins of Cassel, fewer now that the gear was mostly packed down, the main host almost ready to depart. Hundreds of the men were standing off to one side, watching Roderick’s outriders rush past. Some took to cheering, a few of the knight’s waving banners of the Lyonesse standard in a bid farewell, the scouts waving back in response, as the sound of their horses and boars was too loud to talk over.
He could see Von Kessel within the ranks, the two lock eyes over the short distance, but their were no farewells between them. Their argument in the hospital still lingered, that was obvious enough by what Von Kessel had thrust upon him during their meeting with the leaders that morning.
Roderick didn’t turn back as they passed, making for the road that hugged the river, towards the very trees which Bael had retreated. Mazkha was mounted up on his immediate left, her giant boar snivelling against the bit in its mouth, her greenskin followers stretching beyond her. His men and the knights mirrored the right, and some of them had taken to bringing devices – giant banners with both the Lyonesse coat of arms, and the heraldry of the Empire. The latter must have been sewn back in the city where they’d stayed under the Duke’s roof, and Roderick felt a swell in his chest. It was mostly there for the display, the scouts would do away with the banners when the scouting began, but it was good to see his coat of arms standing proud.
Even though he had travelled this country for many days, it felt good to be surrounded by cavalry again, amidst mounted knights and skilled swordsmen. The last time he’d done so, had been back in Tilea, where he’d been thrust into the service of a band of mercenaries. It felt like a lifetime ago.