The Free Company - Book VI: For Whom the Bells Toll

11 April 1442, Late Evening - East Woods, Crimson Force

The veterans rangers of Crimson Force didn't need to be told what to do. Every man fired only one or two shots before moving to another position, always closer to the enemy and around his flanks. The fire was sporadic, but as the noose drew ever tighter, Blue Theta - outnumbered and with their surprise gone - had more than enough to deal with.

Barker saw the team lead take a hit. No good staying here. "Pull back!" he shouted as he ran, wondering how many of his teammates were still 'alive' to hear it. Turning to glance over his shoulder, he tripped over a root and fell, trampling enough leaves to alert the entire Company of his position. He crept away silently until he found an adequate hiding position behind a shrub and let his breath catch up with him. Looking back at where he tripped, he thought, Maybe I can get a couple when they follow all that noise I made.

Someone tapped his shoulder and Barker spun around. Pierce was standing over him, with an arrow in his hand, and touched it to his forehead. "Tag, you're out."

***

Irkut gathered what was left of Crimson Force around him. Down to a dozen men and what have we accomplished? If this was a real battle... "Our job was to distract the enemy and coax him away from the objective, but he didn't fall for it. What now?" The question was directed to Pierce.

The Scotsman was silent for a moment. "It's a hard decision. The rest of our team is depending on us to do our part. But if we can't do it in the first place, and this was the real thing, there would be little point in risking our lives further. Really, it's up to you."

Irkut frowned. He didn't like the thought of having his men's lives in his hands. "If they are depending on us, we'll keep trying. Let's give them something they can't ignore."

***

Later, The Clearing

Crimson Force crept forward. "Close enough?" Irkut asked Pierce and received a nod in reply. "Go ahead." The team spread out in a semi-circle to cover their flanks and then Pierce went into his routine.

"Hey, Sergio!" A volley of arrows and bolts was the only response. "Sergio!" More missiles followed, and Red Team started firing back, but from somewhere in The Clearing, someone shouted a reply.

"Yeah?!"

"You have a sister named Maria, right?!" Pierce could sense Blue Team members moving to outflank them.

"Of course, I told you last week!"

Irkut felt it was getting too hot and signaled a small retreat. After running to a new hiding place, Pierce rejoined the conversation. "Dark hair, Mediterranean features, about twenty?!"

"Yeah?!" The voice was closer now. Some of them are following, at least.

"Aye, she's quite a girl. I wish I had more of my pay left. She would only let me have a few hours last night, but she was worth every coin!" Bolts were now landing around Pierce every few seconds.

"Screw you, sir!"

"That's exactly what I wanted, but she said I had to pay up front first!" Irkut signalled another dash backwards.

11 April 1442, Late Evening: East Woods

Silence.

Laszlo pressed himself against the wide trunk of a tree, and listened.

Nothing. No breeze. Not the faint rustle of leaves. Not even the pounding of his racing heart. He'd tuned out everything except the noises other men could make. He had to. As far as he knew, he was all that remained of Team Beta.

He'd seen David, the other recruit, take a bolt because he'd failed to move. Hadn't he told them to keep moving? He'd lost track of Nikolai what seemed like ages ago, and hoped the wily Rus was holding his own. He'd managed to keep close to the other veteran, Sven, who had guided him silently through the forest...until an arrow materialized out of the night and struck him in the back. Sven had mouthed the word "run" even as he turned and raised his arms, and Laszlo had again sprinted into the darkness.

The element of surprise lost, Team Beta had fared poorly against the few men who'd stayed to keep them from harrying the main force. Laszlo cursed his error; by staying to fight instead of turning to flee, he'd sacrificed his team, and perhaps more...

A step. Laszlo's breath caught in his throat, and he willed himself...invisible. Part of the tree. Another step. Another...too
many...

Two! Saints preserve me, my crossbow can't save me from two...too close...

And so they came, two men, one on either side of the tree. No more than four feet from Laszlo, either one.

Not without a fight, by God!

In a blur of motion, Laszlo shot the man to his left, then threw his crossbow into the face of the other. Both yelped; the man on the right dropped his weapon and raised his hands to clutch as his bloodied nose. Laszlo darted out from cover, dagger appearing in his hand as if by magic, and tapped the ex-crossbowman in the stomach, whispering "You're dead." He then ducked down--picked up the other crossbow, miraculously not discharged--and hurtled through the trees. Two missiles followed him, missing by inches, skipping against trees and underbrush. Laszlo scampered behind another trunk, and slipped his dagger back to his belt.

...I have to gamble...the Lord is my shepherd...

Laszlo feinted, jumping out from behind the tree, then back--an arrow flew by, and a bolt grazed the back of his tunic--then out again, raising his crossbow.

...I shall not want, nor...miss...there!

He shot at a moving shadow--barely glimpsed--whirled, and ran off again. Another bolt whizzed by Laszlo as he sprinted for cover.

There must be more! No man could reload that fast!

*****

Remi rubbed his chest where he'd been struck by the practice bolt, and watched Kincaid run off in pursuit of their quarry. Too damned hasty! But we were right on top of him...serves me right for underestimating a recruit, I suppose. Ah, well. The main force is long gone.

Remi laughed quietly. And I so wanted to watch Kincaid teach this one a lesson...

11 April 1442, Late Evening – East Woods, Kampfgruppe Remi

This guy is good, thought Kincaid, as he heard more than saw Laszlo alternately running and sneaking to confuse his pursuers. He’s probably taken out half a dozen men tonight, but now he’s also on the run. He’ll make a mistake sometime, and we’ve got him. William silently pursued Laszlo through the forest, holding his fire. The sounds of the Wallachian’s sprints and his own teammates’ shots were enough for him to navigate by, and it sounded like Laszlo had enough to occupy himself with.

“I’m hit!” Kincaid recognized the voice of a Red Team member. Okay, so this guy is really good. I wonder how much of our rear guard is left. Enough playing around. When Laszlo dashed, Kincaid dashed. When Laszlo stood still, Kincaid crept closer. And always other Red Team members were hovering around, making snap shots and keeping the Blue Team member on the run.

Kincaid heard Laszlo break into another run and started after him. Laszlo anticipated the move and had a bolt ready for him. But firing from a run, the shot went wide by a few inches. Ducking behind a tree, Kincaid caught his breath. He almost had me there. Serves me right for being predictable. Now where did he run off to? Kincaid established contact with his teammates.

Let’s hope this works. Kincaid picked up a rock and heaved it. It hit the ground with a solid thump accompanied by a rustle of leaves. The highly strung recruit instinctively shot at the sound and was immediately on his feet. Red Team was prepared for the move, but the missiles flew at him in vain. Kincaid, not having enough time to get his throwing arm back onto his crossbow, was too late to catch Laszlo flatfooted. Kincaid rushed the shot, misjudging the target’s speed, and the shot fell harmlessly into Laszlo’s wake.

April 11, 1442 - Ancona – the camp

After being knocked down and carried away on Peter´s shoulders Borroughs was raving, “As to the authority of the sergeants, I have no means of knowing either that it exist or do not exist, damned roasters harassing an old vet”. After the little intermezzo with the huge Dane Borroughs blurrily recalled the latest hours and especially the breathtaking beauty he had met, “wonderful, wonderful”.

“Ah you traitors” said Borroughs to Carl and Alexander. “I will deal with you later, after all, we're not savages. We're English, you have betrayed a fellow Englishman”.

Carl and Alexander smiled unsurely as they knew that a lot of old veterans in the company came from England and these vicious, rough men idolized Borroughs. “Relax, we are only carrying out our orders”.

“You do know that the retribution for being disloyal to your comrades in arms is relentless and swift, sometimes you can get away with some beating, sometimes you end up with a cold knife in your back”. Borroughs really liked the Dane, Carl and Alexander and tried to warn them. In the camp there was no hiding place for traitors and the punishment for disloyalty was draconic and enforced secretly at night when no officers were awake.

”We've got to have rules and obey them” said Carl arrogantly.

“Youngsters! You get tough like me and you don't get hurt. You look out for yourself and nothing can touch you, not even the sergeants” answered Borroughs. “Now let me go and I will not tell anyone about your acts”.

“The sergeants are enraged, and we have to obey them” said Peter while trying to convince Borroughs to cooperate.

Borroughs sighed. “I'm bad and I'm going to hell, and I don't care. I'd rather be in hell than anywhere where you are right now, maybe I soon will see you there” answered Borroughs and tried to guess who’s face the veterans in the camp would smash in first when they heard of the kidnapping.

11th, Night, the woods.

Nikolai and Lazzlo had been the only survivors of the second encounter with Remi’s much larger force. Despite having flanked them they had still been overwhelmed when they encountered the rearguard, led by Kincaid.

At first surprise had been working for them, easily making them tag the first four without retaliation, but soon the overwhelming numbers worked against them. Nikolai had watched as first the other recruit, then the second veteran had been taken out and Nikolai had melted into the woods, knowing he stood no chance and somebody would have to gather intelligence.

From his hiding place he had watched Lazzlo’s brilliant fight against overwhelming odds, taking out far more men than should have been possible, and finally retreating into the woods followed only by Kincaid and a few more red team members.

As the action moved slowly away from the hideout Nikolai watched with amusement how the dead began to stand up and once he was sure the living was out of earshot he eased down from the tree he had climbed into right behind the now idly chatting Remi.

“How are you sir?”

Remi jumped, “Dear god, are you trying to kill me Nikolai?”

“I thought you were already dead sir?”

Remi laughed, well I am, he is good that recruit.”

“Yes sir, if only I had time to teach him how to move silently in the woods.”

Remi smiled, he knew how much the old Rus prided himself of his woodman-ship and riding skills, “Still he is a formidable shot.”

“That he is, and I think one of the best close combat men I’ve seen in a long time” he paused, “far better than me at most, but what good will that be if he cannot stay concealed?”

Remi nodded again, “To each his own, Nikolai, we cannot master it all.”

“Perhaps not, well I’d better get going, no sense in keeping Kincaid waiting.”

And with that he disappeared back into the woods and was gone.

Remi turned to one of the other dead, “He’s pretty good at that.”

The recruit nodded and absentmindedly rubbed the bruise he had gotten from the bolt, “Is that what we are supposed to do?”

Remi laughed quietly, “No, Nikolai is special in that respect, he is no great fighter, most of the men can easily beat him, but tracking, be it in the woods or on a horse, he has few rivals, must be all that hunting in his youth.”

The recruit shuddered wondering what the older Rus could have been hunting to gain that skill.

Nikolai quietly slipped through the forest, carefully avoiding dead leaves and twigs, but still moving at surprising speed. I a few short moments he was within earshot of the red team as they tried to corner Lazzlo.

Nikolai snuck up on a recruit that had taken a break and silently killed him with a tap of his knife.

One down, too many to go. The old scout moved sideways, trying to enter the kills zone from the side, rather than risking alerting his prey and involuntarily get shot by Lazzlo.

Slowly ever so slowly he crept up on another one, this one a veteran. The opponent never stayed in the same place, and warily moved forward while still checking his back.

His prey however was clearly and to Nikolai noisily ahead of them and the veteran was not too careful. That ended abruptly when the Rus let his knife fly the short distance from his hand to between the shoulder blades.

Unfortunately the veterans cried out in surprise and Nikolai knew that the red team had been alerted to his presence and he quickly melded into the woods again pulling back before trying to catch up with Lazzlo without getting caught.

OOC Fusag's post

11 April 1442, Late Evening – East Woods

This is the end! At least two men had sprinted ahed of Laszlo and were now concealed somewhere in front while their teammates were on either side of him. With no where safe to run to, Laszlo crouched further in his hiding place and drew his dagger, ready to spring at anyone who came near. I dare you come closer.

But the Red Team had learned their lesson. Having pinpointed his position, they were peppering the location with bolts. If I just sit here, eventually one of them would get a lucky hit. Have to keep them off-balance. Laszlo made the nearest threat to duck back with a hip shot and then started sprinting, doubling back on his original path. Making a sharp turn to throw off their aim, he darted behind a tree to obstruct their line of sight.

“You’re a hard man to pin down.” Kincaid had a crossbow pointed right at Laszlo’s chest. There was no way he could tag Kincaid in the time it took to squeeze the trigger, so Laszlo reluctantly raised his hands. I always wondered if getting hit by a crossbow hurt...

“Kincaid.” The pair turned to find the source of the voice. It was Landen. No one knew how he had got there; he just suddenly materialized. “You’re dead.”

“Wh-...?”

Nikolai revealed himself from behind a fern not ten feet away with a crossbow leveled at Kincaid. There was no way he could have missed.

“Not only that, but your ‘rear guard’ is way off task. Remi has been taken out, so the rest of your team is leaderless and doesn’t even know it.”

“Yes, sir.” The voice was lifeless. It was a mistake of epic proportions.

“Nikolai, good job. Laszlo – that your name? – we’ll talk tomorrow. Right now, I think this drill has gone on long enough. Kincaid?” Landen gestured at the pack still strapped to the Englishman’s back. “Let’s see if it works.”

The both teams gathered around to look. Dropping the sack on the ground, Kincaid undid the knot and revealed two pieces of flint and the tube he had gotten from Chen.

***

“Sounds like they finally gagged Borroughs.”

“Yep. But as long as they don’t move him, we know where he is. Now all we have to do is get in and out.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble for one man.”

“The Company takes care of its own.”

The rest of Remi’s command were mulling around. According to plan, they had reached the road and followed it up to The Clearing but stayed out of sight. But time passed and there was no word from Remi or the rear guard. Some of the men said they had heard fighting going on behind them, but it was only rumor.

“So what do we do now?” asked Carlos, one of the recruits. He was a teenager from Spain who had come to Italy to sell his skills, and he had been attracted to Ancona by the reputation of the Free Company.

A whine made itself heard in the distance to a growing chorus of murmurs. Through the treetops, Red Team (and the Blue Team, for that matter) could follow the bright red glare of the Chin rocket before it exploded in an eruption of light and sound.

One of the veterans answered Carlos. “That’s your answer. The plan is still on track.”

The men checked and rechecked their equipment in self-imposed silence. Finally, they could hear shouts and the sound of battle ahead. Crimson Force had begun its demonstration on the opposite side of The Clearing to distract Blue Team from the real rescue.

As one, the remainder of Red Team moved off silently to their rendezvous with Borroughs. Not ten yards in, the air suddenly became thick with flying wood...

***

Later...

Landen collected the rangers around him so he wouldn’t have to shout. A number of men were still rubbing their bruises, more from Red Team than Blue Team. “You men performed well tonight. You made mistakes, but that’s expected. However, if you don’t learn from them, then you lost sleep for nothing. I want you all think about what you have learned. For instance, Red Team discovered firsthand that frontal assaults against a prepared defense are not a good idea.

“Okay, that’s enough. Meet at the South Field at dawn tomorrow for morning drills. Dismissed.”

April 11, 1442 - Ancona – the camp

“Where is Borroughs”, where is Borroughs?” The voice belonged to Gunney “the bear from Bristol” a man - or more exactly a bear capable of speaking English - from Bristol with inhuman strength and hot temper. A long time ago Borroughs saved his parent´s lives during a terrible fire in Bristol. Ever since Gunney had watched over Borroughs like a hawk.

“I think he might have been tricked by some soldiers or by that little devious Moor who he ran into the other day” said Geoffrey in a soft voice anxious to calm Gunney down and avoid bloodshed.

“AGRGHHHHHH, those bastards, kill, kill, kill”. Gunney roared around in the camp like a raging wild bear waving an enormous sword in front of him while gathering a bunch of veterans from England to help out in the search for Borroughs. Once he had sworn to protect Borroughs, now was the time to fulfil the promise. His eyes saw the sinking sun and he pictured Borroughs saving his parents from a devastating fire back in good old Bristol. That was the only motivation he needed. The look of hate in his eyes scared Geoffrey and the other soldiers. His eyes blazed with a demonic fury as he took command over the rescue team and hurried away still waving his sword and shouting “Kill, kill, kill”.

Geoffrey watched the fuming men leave the camp and felt that the time might have come to pay captain a visit before it was too late to change things.

Borroughs sighed. “I'm bad and I'm going to hell, and I don't care. I'd rather be in hell than anywhere where you are right now, maybe I soon will see you there” answered Borroughs and tried to guess who’s face the veterans in the camp would smash in first when they heard of the kidnapping.

Carl rolled his eyes. "Hang on a second, Peter." He produced a (relatively clean) rag and reached up to gag Borroughs. The old vet fought it for a moment, but without the use of his hands he was hard-pressed to resist.

"There you go," grinned Carl. "I'm sure Blue Team will appreciate that."

"I know I do," George added.

The new corporals sent Peter on his way and returned to their campfire. Alexander, however, looked pensive. "Say," he wondered aloud, "do you think Borroughs was doing anything other than just blowing smoke? What if Gunney and his goons catch wind of this?"

Carl chuckled. "Gunney's an old English vet, just like us. I don't think he'll come looking for trouble."

"Yeah," said George. "Besides, he knows how Borroughs can be just as well as we do."

"And," added Carl with a grin, "I think he'll find it pretty funny, all things considered."

Alexander made an odd choking sound and gestured wildly. Carl whipped around and saw Gunney and a group of veterans storm into their circle of tents, murder in their eyes.

"Oh, hello, Gunney," Carl began. "We were just talking about our man Borroughs."

"Where is he?!" shouted the enraged soldier.

"Well, let me tell you..." Carl launched into a long accounting of the antics Borroughs had been involved in that day, starting with his wandering around during training, to his drunken passes at Maria in the tavern that evening, to Sergeant Amric's plan to "involve" him in the ranger's drill. George added in the occasional detail here and there, and went out of his way to stress that Amric had hatched the idea. Alexander, for his part, was still too terrified to speak coherently.

When Carl finally finished, Gunney and the rest were roaring with laughter, clutching their sides. "That's our Borroughs!" they cried.

When the guffaws had died down and the men were wiping away their tears, Carl clapped the vets on their shoulders. "Come on, fellas, the scouts should be done by now. Let's see what old Borroughs has to say for himself."

"I'll bet 'e's furious!" laughed Gunney.

"I bet he is," grinned Carl in response.

April 12th, dawn -- Ancona

Maria opened one eye, slowly, and was disturbed to discover that the other didn't seem to want to join its fellow. Not that there was much to see -- only the surface of a rough-hewn table, dimly lit by the Italian dawn. Her mouth, she was aware, tasted as though she had been sucking rotten lemons all night, and she appeared to be face-down in a puddle of something sticky.

She sat up abruptly and immediately regretted it. Her head reeled in protest and she had to fight to keep from vomiting. She slammed her head back onto the table, which hardly did much for her headache, but at least kept the bile in its place.

An indeterminate time later (she was unsure whether she had drifted off or not) Captain's low rumble filled her ears. "Long night, Maria?" The mercenary commander, at least, seemed kind enough to avoid shouting.

Maria sat up, slower this time, and eyed the older man. She answered his question with a grunt.

"Well, you'd better shake it off," Captain insisted. "We picked up a lot of recruits, and by my estimates we're going to need more ships if we're going to move them all. We'll have to hire out."

Maria scowled and reached for a mug of wine. Taking a swig, she swished and then spat it into the corner. One Thumb gave her a nasty glare, which she ignored. "I can do that," she opined, unsteadily.

Captain gave her a watchful stare. "See that you do. I must be off -- if the sun's up, it's a fair bet the sergeants are already working the new recruits."

April 12th, dawn -- Ancona

Henri woke up before dawn as was his norm.He had not drank anything last night and felt like a thousand ducats this morning. He quickly dressedand then went off to find breakfast.

Arriving before most of the men, the young Frenchman was able to grab some grub without waiting in line. Whistling a French ditty, he settled in at an empty table to enjoy his food.

Henri hoped that one of the men from last night's Ranger exercise came to breakfast soon. He wanted to hear how the field exercise had gone....

12th, very early morning the Adriatic

The unknown ship moved silently on light winds into the harbour of Ancona. The Harbourmaster had seen it moving closer since sunup, but was reluctant to call the militia, there was only one ship to see on the entire surface and it was small.

However when it entered the inner harbour, he got nervous, he had an entire mercenary army being outfitted and docked in there, but just as he was about to call somebody, a small pennant went up, the pennant indicating connection to the mercenary camp, the pennant he had been told to expect.

The ship glided across the still waters without making a sound, and the Harbourmaster marvelled at the lack of using oars.

Maria slept fitfully at One Thumb’s, suffering from yet another night of drinking, and had gone to her cabin on reaching the Athene, when suddenly she felt more than heard a soft thump as something rubbed against the hull of her command vessel. Bleary eyed she raised herself unto one elbow and briefly considered ignoring it, but with the foreign ship already at Athene’s berth she decided to go and release some of her anger on the poor fisherman that had bumped into her ship.

While haphazardly dressing her semi naked body she idly wondered why her crew hadn’t reacted, why no shouts of orders or curses could be heard, but from her own ship came no sound.

Lazy bastards, all asleep, a good cruise is what we need.

Slowly she made her way topside and her anger was fuelled by seeing the that not only had the ship rubbed Athene, it had also berthed right there, moored to her sides, and her crew had done nothing. Without waiting for an explanation she stomped to the railing and looked down upon the smaller vessel. She was just about to let loose a barrage of obscenities when she noticed something familiar about the figure standing in the prow, something in he way he moved.

Frederik?

Suddenly she was at a loss for words and without further ado she spun on her heel to retrace her steps and get properly dressed.

What is he doing here, and on that ship? She hurried across the deck.

Frederik had noticed her out of the corner of his eye and idly wondered why she didn’t greet him, but he decided to give her time to get in order first. Slowly he went about the ship gathering his belongings, ordering supplies to be bought, cargo to be sold and gave orders to the next voyage, before finally getting up the rope ladder to his beloved Maria’s ship.

12 April 1442, Just before sunup – FC Camp

Baer stepped out of his tent and meandered to the center of the camp. There were some stirrings from a good portion of the tents as men were slowly waking up to their internal clocks. Over the past year or so Baer and Amric had slowly conditioned the men to wake around dawn on most days. He let the men sleep in on the day of Sabbath and usually did not drill them that day, but all they had to indoctrinate the recruits was yesterday and today before jumping onto the ships.

Baer spat on some still warm coals of a campfire. They do this every time we get a bunch of new recruits. Have to show off their military prowess and their drinking prowess. Of course today is going to be hell on everyone. Baer noticed the young Frenchman rise and move off to find food. He chuckled momentarily, Except perhaps Henri

The spittle had finally ceased it’s sizzling and Baer bellowed at the top of his lungs, “ALRIGHT YOU WORTHLESS MAGGOTS, GET YOUR CARCASSES OUT OF BED AND GET SOME FOOD!!!”

The groans about the camp intensified as the other Sergeants moved about the camp repeating Baer’s bellow. Men were getting up and cursing the officers and their mothers for their unholy treatment. Slowly the camp came to life and Baer nodded to himself and moved off to find his own food before the line started to form.

“Be in the Training Field in two hours time!” Baer bellowed as he moved through the camp. He repeated his shout every tenth step until he cleared the tents. He started walking towards One-Thumb’s and was joined by a couple of sergeants including Amric.

“Well it will be a hard ass day on everyone. Damn drunkards deserve it though. You would think after the last year and a half they would have learned something about drinking too much the night the recruits showed up.” Baer muttered to his fellow sergeants.

The group merely chuckled and continued on it’s way towards the smell of food.

12 April 1442, Very Early Morning

Suddenly out of the darkness came shapes. A moving chair, rolling around...why is it doing that? And the door...it's moving along the wall...

DuPont blinked and realized that he was in his dank room in the inn. He got up very slowly and sat on his cot. He felt like throwing up. Last night... last night, he remembered eventually, he had gotten tremendously drunk. But how did he get here? He didn't remember coming back to the inn...

He stood up, and suddenly blanked out and lost all his energy and had to sit down again. He stretched and looked for his pad. Gone.

Dupont got up, opened the door, and slowly stumbled down the hall to the exit, left the building, and threw up on the grass.

I am really in for it, he thought, and hurried (hurried being a relative term) back upstairs and changed. Then descended to the lobby, and was going to ask where he could find breakfast, but chose (stupidly) to try and find some at the One Thumb's. DuPont stepped out the door onto an already bustling street. He tried to remember which way it was to the tavern...

12 April 1442, Early Morning- One Thumbs

As the sargeants trudged into the tavern for a quick bite they noticed that the smells of city were overshadowed by the smell of the sea nearby. Almost powerful enough to overshadow the smell of fresh bread, roasting meat, eggs on a griddle, and fresh juice and tea.

Amric sighed," And you know what will happen in about two and a half hours."

"They'll be puking their guts up," Baer chuckled.

"Yep, as some of them overeat to try to compensate for the drink," Amric frowned," And those who didn't eat puke up the nothing but acid in their bellies."

"It will not be pretty," Baer grimaced,"Perhaps I should have Jan on call for the inevitable?"

"I'm thinking that might not be a bad idea," Amric nodded," If his own head isn't ready to fall off as well."

They all sat at the same table as last night. The serving wench came over to take their orders. Pretty much the typical thing they all ate in preparation for a long day of training.

"Yeah," Amric said after the others had ordered," I'll have some eggs, some of that sausage, a glass of apple juice along with a cup of tea."

She nods and walks back to convey the orders. The sergeants soon were falling to their breakfasts with a will.

"I think we ought to start with some exercises to limber the men up," Amric said before drinking some more tea.

Baer smiled," I suppose that will give them a small chance to recover before we do the sprints and other pike and sword drills."

"My thinking exactly," Amric sighed," You'd think a man would know enough to handle his booze before a hard day like today is going to be."

"Amric," Baer chuckled,"You're a good man, but you just aren't a drinker. It is a way some people use to let off some steam. You really do know that, and you know that there are those who just won't really control themselves while in training."

"Such as Borroughs," Amric sighed," Perhaps last night will teach him a thing or two and he will calm down. But I doubt it somehow. Deep in my heart, I think he is looking to die. I don't think he even cares how or why, just as long as he can take a few people with him."

Baer started to say something and then stopped, with a frown on his face as the other sergeants looked a bit pensive.

"There is self destructive," Amric continued,"and there is stupidly self destructive. Borroughs is being, and has been, stupidly self destructive for quite a while now. We all know he isn't stupid, but the actions he has been taking for some time sure indicate it."

"That is a bit....harsh," O'Floinn said.

"My point is this," Amric said,"and simply put, a man of his obvious native intelligence shouldn't be doing the things he is doing. So what does that tell us? He isn't interested in his own safety. He doesn't care if he lives or dies."

"You may have a point," Baer nodded slowly," But there isn't a lot for us to do about that."

"True," Amric agreed," But it is a shame and a waste of a good human being all the same."

12 April 1442, Dawn – One Thumb’s

"My point is this," Amric said,"and simply put, a man of his obvious native intelligence shouldn't be doing the things he is doing. So what does that tell us? He isn't interested in his own safety. He doesn't care if he lives or dies."

"You may have a point," Baer nodded slowly," But there isn't a lot for us to do about that."

"True," Amric agreed," But it is a shame and a waste of a good human being all the same."

Baer looked at Amric through slits as he said in a deadly serious voice, “If he’s looking for death then I really don’t care, it means he’s a coward and he’s running from his life. I’ll have no remorse for him if he chooses this way. More importantly is he doesn’t do something stupid to endanger the men about him on his quest. If that happens then so help me god I will run him through myself.”

Silence descended on the table at this proclamation. A couple heads nodded and others seemed a little shocked at the downright brutal image. “If one man wishes to die then so be it, but for him to kill his comrades in such a reckless act, well then I will have to take action. The life of one man over the lives of two or three is nothing. That is the reality of the situation.”

Grunts muttered around the table and everyone sat back when their breakfast arrived.

“Enough talk of Burroughs, we’ll speak more about it later. Now what does everyone have planned today? We’ll start with some limbering exercises and then move to some running. Not too long, but enough to warm everyone up. Then we’ll move to Pike drills and then sword drills. We’ll integrate the recruits with veterans and pair them off. Fighting in formation is a lot different then fighting an opponent single handedly. We’ll need to break some bad habits soon. What about the Light Cavalry? You intend to send some of those pompous assholes our way or are you going to take care of it yourselves? Also,” Baer turned to look at the Heavy Horse Sergeant, “Johan, I would like to have a few of your boys available to charge at some of our new recruits. I’m sure none have felt the thunder of the ground when the heavy horse charges. I think it will be a good time for them to learn it, instead of in the thick of battle.”

Baer looked around the group waiting for comments.

12 April 1442 - Dawn

“ALRIGHT YOU WORTHLESS MAGGOTS, GET YOUR CARCASSES OUT OF BED AND GET SOME FOOD!!!”

Jan woke instantly, and was half out of bed, his sword already in hand, before his brain was able to over-ride his instincts. Just as suddenly he stopped. For a moment the world spun, and then righted itself. He coughed twice, harshly. From outside he could see the glimmerings of the dawn. He snuffed out his lamp, and coughed again. He was covered in sweat, which now clung to him, cold and clammy.

He took a moment to assess himself. First priority was memory. He regretted that he could remember. Damned. Second was the stomach. It grumbled, but seemed otherwise settled. His head seemed fine as well, an examination of the wine-flask showed it was still just over half-full. He must have been tired to have fallen to sleep so easily.

He would look terrible, but that was nothing new. Already his body was protesting as he forced himself up and out. His body shouted its need for sleep, but Jan knew better. Out in the dawn light he felt much better. All about he could here the groans. He knew that would soon mean work. He supposed he ought to talk to the sergeants about picking a couple of orderlies, but that could wait until they really knew what they would be doing.

First priority, however, was food.

12 April, 1442, before Dawn – FC Camp

“ALRIGHT YOU WORTHLESS MAGGOTS, GET YOUR CARCASSES OUT OF BED AND GET SOME FOOD!!!”

Jonathan Bixby started awake as the fury of god slammed down from above. The night had been a long one and he had only managed a few hours of sleep. Not only the drill with the rangers, but also some side training with a couple of the veterans about how to creep about in the dark using their other senses including the feel of wind over your skin.

At first Jonathan thought they were playing a joke on him, feeling the wind shift on your skin? As night went on he became aware of what they were talking about. He felt the difference once that night as they were discussing it, but he knew he had many long training sessions ahead of him until he understood it subconsciously. He looked about the tent he was sharing with a couple of other Rangers and saw them already dressed and getting ready to depart.

Maximilian looked down at Jonathan and smiled, “Ahhh the sleeping prince has awakened.” The other two men snickered briefly. There was no malice in the words, just good natured teasing. “That there was old Grizzly giving out the wake up call. You’ll get used to it.” Jonathan doubted that he ever would, there was something in the voice, a slight promise of violence that shook a man to his boots.

Jonathan stood and dressed himself quickly. He had few possessions but this would be supplemented if he made it into the Company. He envied the clothes the other two rangers wore. They were sturdy made and would protect them from the elements and of course branches and the like. Last night Jonathan had managed to rip one set of trousers as he was moving through the night. Both sides across the thighs were ripped and his thighs had red welts where swinging bushes and branches managed to hit his unprotected skin.

Finally dressed the three men exited the tent and moved to find food. He noticed that the rangers seemed a little more informal and more accepting of the recruits then the other parts of the company. He commented on this to Maximilian. Maximilian turned and grinned, “Well it’s like this, we are skilled men. We respect each other because of those skills, even Kincaid, but don’t tell him that.” This brought chuckles from the other man, “Infantry means you can stand in a block and swing a stick, but the more specialized aspects of our company tend to be a little more lenient to recruits. After all fighting from horseback is much tougher then just swinging a sword. The same is true for skulking in the woods and skirmishing with the enemy. Besides, if you don’t make the cut we’ll send yer ass to the Infantry.” More chuckles sounded.

Jonathan lapsed into silence and wondered what the rest of the day would bring. Today would be the last day until they found out if he would be a part of them or just merely another recruit sent to the infantry.

12 April 1442 - Dawn, One Thumb

Chen arrived in the tavern for an early breakfast and noticed that most of the sergeants were already in one corner discussing the day's programmes. Chen moved over to the officer's table where Erik was already helping himself to breakfast.

Chen took a plate for himself and settled down besides Erik. As Chen ate his breakfast, Erik asked," So what's your programme today? Chen replied," Well, morning is being used to break in the new recruits." "You needing Baer for your morning programme?" "Depends on Jean and O'Floinn. I left the morning programme to them. In the afternoon, I was thinking of practicing a little hit and run tactics with the recruits. I was thinking if I could use your men for this exercise?"

Now Erik was curious as he asked," What do you have in mind?"
Chen replied," Well I was thinking having your men forming up in formation and maybe attacking a formation or something. My men will try to delay yours by haraassing your flanks just like what we did at Cremona. The exercise will end once your men reaches the target. I think this exercise can benefit both our groups of men. It gives all our men a taste of how real fighting is like. Your men will know what it's like to advance under a shower of arrows and my men will learn the importance of this hit and run tactics. To make things more realistic, perhaps we can even have the Heavies join in. What do you think Erik?"

12 April - Dawn

“ALRIGHT YOU WORTHLESS MAGGOTS, GET YOUR CARCASSES OUT OF BED AND GET SOME FOOD!!!”

Gerd woke up immediately at the sound of Grizzly's bellowing, but had the good sense to stay still. He smiled to himself at the sounds of wretching from nearby.

"Bloody hell!" Oskar spluttered from nearby as he wiped his vomit-splattered face with his sleeve. "Was I drunk last night? I hope so to feel like this. Was One-Thumb giving away the drinks for free - or did he finally stop watering the wine? Sheesh, look at all these louts. I must have had a good night last night. I can't have got a headache like this if I didn't. Come on Gerd, get up!"

Gerd smiled again, up at Oskar's silhouetted figure. He made a lateral shrug of his shoulders. Oskar made to kick him, but Gerd stuck back toppling his friend, who retched again at the sudden movement.

"Dammit Oskar, I washed this sleeve last week! Now come on, let's go get some grub. I'm sure Grizzle has some cruel scheme to make me lose my dinner, and if he doesn't that that Aeshir git certainly does."

With a certain reluctance Gerd allowed Oskar to cajole him upward and in the direction of the kitchens. "We only got two hours after all. Wait, hang on a moment, did he say two hours? You know Gerd, I'm sure I heard two hours. Something has gotta be wrong. When was the last time Grizzly gave us two hours to do anything? It's not fair - he must be being soft on the new recruits. Gotta be that. I mean, he can't just go changing the bloody rules!"

Gerd grinned impishly, and pretended to go back to bed.

"No you don't! I got you up, I'm not letting you go down. ahh, here we are. Hey, this is fresh bread! Not only that it's good bread! Damned, we must be getting lucky to have picked up a decent baker. I hope he's german. I know you like this Italians -" Gerd gave Oskar a surprised look that Oskar ignored "but sometimes I think there are too damned many of them. Makes me a little homesick it does."

Gerd gestured at another soldier, rolling his eyes and banging his ear. The other man chuckled. Oskar exclaimed in mock outrage. It was the start of a long day.

12 April 1442, Dawn – One Thumbs

Chen replied," Well I was thinking having your men forming up in formation and maybe attacking a formation or something. My men will try to delay yours by haraassing your flanks just like what we did at Cremona. The exercise will end once your men reaches the target. I think this exercise can benefit both our groups of men. It gives all our men a taste of how real fighting is like. Your men will know what it's like to advance under a shower of arrows and my men will learn the importance of this hit and run tactics. To make things more realistic, perhaps we can even have the Heavies join in. What do you think Erik?"

Erik sat back and thought about it a moment, “I like that idea, I’ll bring it up with Baer and go from there. I’m hesitant to interrupt his ideas for the morning since this will most likely cause a little bit of reorganizing for the maneuver. Overall I think it would be a great idea. This way we get used to moving and such as a unit.”

Erik nodded to Chen and took a bite of eggs. He looked up as Captain and Constance descended the stairs. Robert seemed a little rough around the edges and a perpetual frown was on his face. The two arrived at the table with Chen and Erik rising to their feet and Erik giving a quick nod of respect to Constance and another to Captain. Once they were seated the two men sat down once more and picked up their utensils.

“So what are you two up to this early in the morning?” Captain asked.

“Well plotting to cause Baer some grief over the training details.”

Captain chuckled, “Oh I would love to see Grizzly’s face when you mess with his training schedule.”

The table laughed softly at Captain’s use of Baer’s nickname that the men had dubbed him with. Erik knew Baer was aware of it and even silently approved. After all if they took the time to nickname him then they took the time to know who he was. It allowed the men a figure to vent about and let off their aggressions. Muttering about a Sergeant will get you Latrine duty, but mouthing off about an Officer would get you removed from the FC or worse.

“Well I don’t think he’ll take it too poorly, after all it’s one of the things we like most about him… his ability to take what we give him and perform minor miracles.”

Captain looked about the room, “Where’s Lochlan and the others?”

Erik grinned evilly, “Oh well Lochlan was up late last night working with some of the Rangers and well… he is an old man now… so he’s probably fast asleep still.”

Again the table laughed softly and Erik continued, “Actually I’m not too sure, Landen just arrived and joined the sergeants at their table. I haven’t seen Kent or Jacques either come to think about it. Most likely fretting over some minor detail today.”

The table grinned once more as Allessandra came down the stairs. Erik motioned for her to join them and flashed one of her famous grins and made her way over. Once more the men stood while the lady made herself comfortable and then sat again. “Good morning, I swear I will never get used to that… man… bellowing before daybreak. The worse of it is we’re here in town and we can still hear him bellowing.”

Erik laughed and smiled, ever since Lochlan and he made the trip he was very fond of this woman. Not only did she have a sharp wit but also a quick mind to back it up. Not to mention her balancing factor with Lochlan, he seemed more at peace now then before. For that Erik was most thankful, Lochlan had many open wounds after Constantinople and this woman miraculously began his healing.

Grinning Erik asked, “So where is your paramour this morning?”

Allessandra chuckled and responded, “Why off walking the tents of course, so stop trying to catch him trying to sleep in. One day you will be shocked to find he has.”

Food arrived for the others and they all began to eat once more talking about nothing in particular. Soon after they had begun to eat Kent and LeClerc arrived. They too sat and joined the light hearted conversation. There was still much to do and little time to do it. The Officers decided to take a nice morning off since the day would be long and hard as the equipment was packed and placed on ships and then tomorrow the men would follow.