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

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12 April 1442, Early Morning One Thumbs

Amric nodded, as Baer's plan sounded good to him.

"I like it," Amric smiled," I think we ought to have three formations though. One of all recruits, another of vets and recruits, and the last of pure veterans."

"What for?"

"That way each one can see how the others take a charge," Amric explained," The recruits will likely break, the mixed group will start to break and get pulled back together by the vets. The veteran group will take the charge and if we do it right will drop the hammer on the cavalry charging. It would be nice to show them that infantry, when trained properly, CAN take a charge and return the favor, so to speak."

Baer stretched," Sounds like a good idea to me. Although it might stretch the cavalry a little bit. But all in all, I like it."

"Well," Amric mopped up the last of his food," I don't know about you all, but I think I want to take a look at the men as they straggle to the Fields."

"I'll be there soon," Baer growled.

"See you then," Amric nodded," I'm going to check them out and then cull out my new corporals to get them started on some things."

With that he paid his tab and stalked out of the tavern, heading directly for camp and the recruits.
 
12 April 1442, Dawn – One Thumb’s

Landen set his plate down at the sergeant’s table and unpacked his mess kit. The other sergeants were discussing, oddly enough, Borroughs. “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.”

And last night I ordered forty men to charge to their deaths to rescue one man. Well, it was only exercise, but what if the scenario were real and Captain had ordered us to carry out a rescue mission against such odds? Refuse, and I’m committing insubordination. Accept, and I exchange how many lives to save one man? Well, Captain is no fool. If he ordered the operation, he would have a reason. Before Landen could swallow what was in his mouth and speak, the conversation had moved on.

(OOC: Reduxer, insert rest of conversation.)

"See you then," Amric nodded," I'm going to check them out and then cull out my new corporals to get them started on some things."

With that he paid his tab and stalked out of the tavern, heading directly for camp and the recruits.

Amric’s exit created an opening in the conversation and Landen jumped in. “I probably should have said this before Amric left, but I’ll talk to my veterans this morning about which of ranger recruits we can’t use. The drill last night gave us a pretty good idea of their strengths and weaknesses, so it shouldn’t take too long. Since you’re pampering your men and won’t start for a couple hours,” Landen couldn’t help but take a jab at Baer’s unusually lax regime for this morning, “They should be ready for you by the time you begin.”

He turned to the light cavalry sergeants. "Lochlan tells me that Captain thinks we'll need raiders for the coming campaign, so it would be a good idea if the scouts had some practice working together before we do it in the field. You think you have time for a joint drill today, or do you enough on your plates?"
 
12 April 1442, Early morning - Ancona


Valentin Luhtanen perched upon a rock that sat nestled beneath a small tree at the edge of the east training field. He selected this position because it would at least allow him to stay out of the cursed sun a little longer. In his opinion, any time out of this italian sun, was time well spent.

Unlike many others he did not drink last night and was prepared for the day ahead. This however was not entirely because of a strict work effort. He had needed to remain sober for his meeting. Thoughts traced back to the wallachian ranger as he sharpened his large ax upon a whet stone. For now he would do nothing, likely the snooping ranger was just paranoid and happened upon something he should not have witnessed. Of course, if he became a problem.. well, Valentin had dealt with such trouble-makers in the past.

Setting his Ax down for the moment, the Finn reached down and scooped up a wineskin, taking a slow sip of the cool water. For the time being thoughts would turn to getting through the training of Baer and Amric. It was not likely to be anything simple or easy.
 
April 12 - Early Morning - One Thumb's

O'Floinn perked up a bit at the mention of his name. Turning back to his food as he realized it didn't require his attention. He was fairly tired, having spent a bit of the night rousing some of the recruits for exercise. Jean had been a bit suspicious of it, but it had worked out alright. Besides, the Turks aren't going to let us rest when we want a break. He had argued.

"O'Floinn?"

Chen had already spoekn to him several times before O'Floinn was roused. He lifted his head sleepily. Slowly, his language skills came back to him. He began speaking in his native Gaelic, at first not realizing Chen wouldn't understand it. As Chen looked unsurely at him, O'Floinn realized his mistake and quickly began again in Latin.

"Yes Chen?"

"Are you alright?"

"Jus' a bit 'ired. Did some late nigh' trainin' wi' a couple o' the recruits."

"Are you trying to kill them?" Asked one of the infantry sargeants O'Floinn didn't know.

"Jus' gettin' 'em ready fer real battle. The Turk's aren' gonn' be lettin' us ge' a good night's 'leep if we're no' ready to fight 'em off. This won' be tournamen', an' if they don' understan' tha', then there'll be no poin' in tryin' to teach 'em to fight."

O'Floinn let his head fall to rest upon his chest, occasionally opening his eyes for to check activity around him.
 
12 April 1442, Early Morning, One Thumb's

Christian had not had much to drink the night before so he was relatively alert when he woke at dawn. He walked into the tavern once again, and noticed that it looked slightly tidier than the night before. He saw the sergeants discussing what seemed to be important matters, but he still wasn't officially assigned to a unit yet. So he decided to walk over and find out what to do.

He looked over to see an Irishman who was talking to a Chinese sergeant. He had heard Latin being spoken a few minutes earlier, so Christian approached the European one and asked,"Excuse me sir, but I have not been assigned to a unit yet. Is there any way either of you could help me?"

The Irishman, who was obviously not quite awake yet, responded in somewhat slurred speech, "Come with me. Are you infantry? Cavalry?"

"Infantry," the Dane responded.

"An infantryman, eh?" the man answered. "Right this way."
 
April 12 - Early Morning - One Thumb's

"Excuse me sir, but I have not been assigned to a unit yet. Is there any way either of you could help me?"

The Irishman, who was obviously not quite awake yet, responded in somewhat slurred speech, "Come with me. Are you infantry? Cavalry?"

"Infantry," the Dane responded.

"An infantryman, eh?" the man answered. "Right this way."

O'Floinn took the recruit outside and pointed off to where Amric could just barely be seen making his way to the camp.

"Tha's Sargeant Amric Al'aeshir. He's an excellen' figh'er an' an even be'er friend, bu' 'e may be a bit crazy with new recruits. You can go catch up with 'im, or go in an' talk to that large fellow there." He gestured to Baer. "Oh, an' I'm Daniel O'Floinn, sargeant.."he paused in his weariness, "of the light cavalry."
 
April 12 - Early Morning - One Thumb's

"Lochlan tells me that Captain thinks we'll need raiders for the coming campaign, so it would be a good idea if the scouts had some practice working together before we do it in the field. You think you have time for a joint drill today, or do you enough on your plates?"

The other Cavalry sergeants looked at eack other. Lim asked Landen," What do you have in mind Landen? Lets see, morning we have some exercises to break in the new recruits but we might be able to spare some of the vets over. In the afternoon, Chen was planning some sort of joint training with the infantry though we are not sure if it has been confirmed."

Baer suddenly asked," What joint training with the Infantry? Lt. Jaegar has not mentioned anything to me yet." Lim replied," I don't think he knows now. In fact I think Chen is probably telling Lt Jaegar right now." pointing to where Chen was in conversation with Erik. Baer nodded though he did not seem none too pleased at the prospect of his training programme for the day changed.

Lim turned back to Landen," And oh yeah, evening will likely be spent doing last minute checking that all our equipment is being packed into the ships. Well, I listed out our day's programme. Now why don't you tell us what do you have planned and we will see if we can fit in a combined drill."
 
April 12, 1442 - Ancona – One Thumbs, early morning

“Bottle of Bristol Bitter, it's you I've always wanted!
Bottle of Bristol Bitter, why did I ever leave you?
Skies are blue inside of you,
The weather's always fine;
For There ain't no Bottle in all the world
Like that dear Bottle of Bristol Bitter”.

“There he is” shouted Gunney, “Come on lads, there is our Borroughs”.

Out of the dark emerged a tall, singing soldier from Bristol, smiling all over his face.

“Ey, Borroughs it is me, Gunney and the lads” shouted Gunney and the veterans from England gathered around Borroughs to celebrate that the lost son finally had been found.

“We are the woods we wander in?" said Borroughs without explanation.

“What? , you must have a concussion” said Gunny in a worried voice and directed Borroughs back to One Thumb´s where Geoffrey and many others waited. Carl, George and Alexander accompanied the horde relieved that Borroughs did not seem to remember much of the evening.

“No Gunney but I have had the strangest thoughts when I walked around in these dark forest all by myself” said Borroughs meditatively.

“Rubbish Borroughs, a small concussion that is all, come on” said Carl eager to move on as quickly as possible and soon the horde reached One Thumb´s and occupied a huge table.

When they sat down they saw Christian leave. “Ah sad, that is nice soldier” said Borroughs, "we will have to talk with him later on”.

“Here we go, ten beers spiced with brandy” shouted Gunney. “Ah a morning beer is the best way to start a hopeless morning with”.

“Can’t beat that” answered Alexander laconically without enthusiasm because he saw that some of the sergeants looked angrily at the roaming men.

“It is funny, when I was alone in the forest I had these really odd thoughts” said Borroughs once again.

“Come on not again Borroughs” said Gunney a bit disappointed because he was anxious to order another beer spiced with brandy and did not want to waste his time on incomprehensible talk.

Geoffrey who had not said much lately listened up.

“I wonder, how can we call some people sergeants or soldiers or even humans?” continued Borroughs.

Gunney looked confused but Geoffrey paid attention.

“A sergeant cannot be said to be a sergeant or a human, because these are only made up words. We can´t know that the sergeants really exist or even that Amric exits and if anything does exists it is inapprehensible and if even if it were apprehensible it would be incommunicable.

“Come on, the sergeants do exist” said Carl.

Gunney filled in “I can see buggers over there and I bet they are talking about you”.

“Gunney I think Borroughs has a point here” said Geoffrey in a learned voice. “I think he is trying to say that there is no concrete view of reality and maybe he is right about that”.

“Ah, I see, when I have emptied my beer I guess my view on reality will have changed a great deal” shouted Gunney and took a huge mouthful from his glass. “If I drink enough maybe all the sergeants will disappear”. Gunney stuck his huge tongue into the glass to lick up the leftovers of the brandy beer before ordering a new beer.

Suddenly a tall and gaunt man stepped forward, shrouded from head to foot in what appeared to be habiliments from the grave. His face nearly resembled the face of a stiffened corpse and he had piercing eyes. Borroughs recognized him as a soldier from Strathclyde called Fawkes Squealer. Fawkes often sat by himself and never talked much. “Ah a sophist, nice to meet you, I couldn’t help overhearing your discussion” said Fawkes Squealer and sat down at the table.

“So?” answered Borroughs.

“Well in fact why obey the sergeants if they are not existent?” said Fawkes Squealer in a conspiring voice and ordered beer for everybody.

“That is a point you have there” answered Borroughs cautiously.

“And why is captain looking downhearted these days?” continued Fawkes Squealer, “You only see sergeants these days sitting around the table sober like girls, constantly whispering, talking old women´s gossip and conspiring instead of preparing our coming mission”. He made a elongated pause and adopted a dramatic attitude.

“Hm, he does look a bit low-spirited” commented Du Pont who also had joined the soldiers.

“Yeah maybe the sergeants have drugged the Captain he looks miserable and off colour these days” continued Fawkes while buying Du Pont a beer. Fawkes finished the sentence in an ill-omened voice and looked eagerly at Borroughs and the others.

“Well the sergeants did kidnap old Borroughs” said Gunney slowly but surely and sank down on his chair. Suddenly his lust for more beer vanished and his eyes started to glow. “Maybe there is a conspiracy going on here and there have been happening the strangest things around here ever since the sergeants started to gather. The Captain hardly ever shows around the camp”.

“Exactly!!” shouted Fawkes and his eyes started to glow with madness.

"Oh, my God, what have we done to have these Sergeants upon us” shouted Borroughs after drinking his fifth beer spiced with brandy.

“Come on man” said Carl to Fawkes Squealer, you can’t be serious”. He looked anxiously at George and Alexander because he did not want to be part of an uprising and wished to get away from Fawkes Squealer as soon as possible.

“Relax all” said Geoffrey. “Fawkes you are accusing the sergeants of treason, are you aware of that?”

Fawkes made a hissing sound and fastened his eyes on Geoffrey. “Yessss, I know, maybe the Ottomans have paid Amric, after all he is new here and we don’t know much about him, besides he has an Arabic name, doesn’t he? Maybe he and Baer are grasping for power and want to replace our beloved Captain”. At this point Fawkes was almost yelling with pleasure. “Maybe we should put them in iron until Captain is fighting fit again!!”
 
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12th Morning One Thumb’s

Johan sat quietly at the sergeants’ table listening to the suggestions,

“We can do that, the horses needs plenty of exercise before we ship them out, otherwise they’ll break the holds,”

He could see some of the infantrymen looked apprehensive at the thought and he smiled, what did they know about horses,

“I had planned for us to train battles in formations, so the new recruits can learn that this is not a tournament, but we may very well practice charging as formation as well, how do you intend avoiding to hurt the horse with those sticks of yours?”

Amric and Baer looked pensive, to have the full charge seem realistic the heavy cavalry would have to bear straight at them at full speed, but receiving them with ordinary pikes would be disastrous.

“Just charge us, and only press if you can see we yield,” Baer was not about to give up on a good field exercise.

Johan nodded, “the training will do us good, we will make the earth shake for you.”

The other sergeants grinned,

“Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got other things to attend to before training” and with that he rose and left for the kitchens.

Rosa was waiting right inside the door, she hugged him fiercely, “What took you so long?”

“I had to attend the meeting...”

“You were just eating, you could do that here.”

“We were making plans for the day.”

“You can do that later, now you are leaving again.”

Johan sighed inwardly and decided to end the conversation quickly, he gently but irresistibly grabbed her head with both his hands and kissed her fully on her mouth, smothering all her objections. Rosa was so surprised that she dropped the entire tray of clean mugs she was carrying and the whole kitchen turned to see, making Rosa go crimson from neck to hair.

She smiled impishly at the room in general and pulled the grinning Johan out into the courtyard,

“What are you doing? My mother was in there, and my sisters, thank god my father wasn’t..”

Johan smothered her words with another kiss and she kept quiet, after a while he stopped to catch his breath,

“What are you doing now? Don’t stop.” She pulled him in direction of the barn for some privacy, and Johan idly wondered how he was going to get all men-at-arms assembled with in a few hours from now.
 
April 12 Early Morning One Thumb’s Tavern


"Relax all" said Geoffrey. "Fawkes you are accusing the sergeants of treason, are you aware of that?"

Fawkes made a hissing sound and fastened his eyes on Geoffrey. "Yessss, I know, maybe the Ottomans have paid Amric, after all he is new here and we don’t know much about him, besides he has an Arabic name, doesn’t he? Maybe he and Baer are grasping for power and want to replace our beloved Captain". At this point Fawkes was almost yelling with pleasure. "Maybe we should put them in iron until Captain is fighting fit again!!"

Geoffrey started at Fawkes wondering what the hell he had been drinking.

"A word of advice friend. First lower your voice if you don’t want one of the Sergeants taking offense at what you’re saying. I would also point out that Sergeant Amric was my Sergeant at my first real battle and he led the men from example. That’s right he was in the front ranks when the battle was in doubt. I’d rather skewer your sorry ass with a pike than say a bad word about him. As for Sergeant Baer if he ever gets wind of what you said I doubt there will be enough of you left for a dog to gnaw on"

Fawkes made a hissing sound as he deflated into one of the chairs at the table. Geoffrey decided to try to steer the conversation away from the madness that Fawkes was spreading.

"Back to what Burroughs was saying about the Sergeants existing or not is akin to what reality is based upon. If mankind disappeared would reality also disappear?"

Blank stares from round faces looked at Geoffrey. He mentally shrugged and tried again.

"All right how about this? If no one was around to hear would Burroughs snore as he slept?"

Gunney laughed.

"Ha! Of course he would!"

The nodding of the heads of Burrough’s friends indicated the wisdom of Gunney’s answer.

"I’ve seen him snore sitting down, standing up and laying down with his eyes wide open. Hell his Ma once said he snored while inside her. What a stupid question."

"Ah all right maybe that isn’t a good metaphor."

Another round of blank faces followed the word metaphor. Geoffrey knew a challenge when he saw it. His face suddenly lit up with an inspiration.

"How about if there were no people around would a tree falling in a forest make a sound?"

Gunney and Alexander exchanged glances. Alexander made a circling motion with his finger to the side of his head while crossing his eyes clearing thinking that Geoffrey was one arrow short of full quill. Gunny smiled

"Of course it makes noise."

"No you don’t understand. If no one were present would the falling tree have an impact on the human race?"

"Human race my ass. A tree falling is going to kick up a ruckus no matter where it is or who’s there. Is this what those so-called men of learning tried to teach you in those fancy places of learning? A sorry excuse for nonsense if you ask me."

Alexander called out.

"You tell him Gunney old pal."

More nodding of heads followed around the table. Geoffrey realized that he was in a losing battle and decided to cut his loses. He rose and said.

"All right maybe we can come back to this later but for now I’ve someone I have to go meet. I’ll see you men later."

Before he left he stared at Fawkes pinning him to his seat.

"Don't forget my advice friend. Rebellion in the ranks is the quickest way to a grave."
 
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12 April 1442, Morning – One Thumbs

"Yessss, I know, maybe the Ottomans have paid Amric, after all he is new here and we don’t know much about him, besides he has an Arabic name, doesn’t he? Maybe he and Baer are grasping for power and want to replace our beloved Captain". At this point Fawkes was almost yelling with pleasure. "Maybe we should put them in iron until Captain is fighting fit again!!"

Baer’s head snapped up and focused on the man who seemed to be gaily jumping from foot to foot. Baer saw Geoffrey talk to the man before he rose and left. Baer nodded, That one is no fool.

Baer looked to the Officers table and saw their table also looking across the tavern. Erik looked pissed and he could tell even Captain was barely holding his anger. Nodding to him self Baer rose and with him the other Sergeants rose too. All told standing with Baer were easily twenty men. Turning his basilisk glare on the table of Malcontents he slowly approached.

The men sitting at the table looked up and a few decided that somewhere else needed them right now. They rose and left, leaving Burroughs his lackey Gunney and the dissenter as well as Carl and Alexander. Baer growled as he approached the table.

“Fawkes, consider your self under arrest.” Baer pointed to two men in the Tavern, “Henri… Artur… escort this piece of filth to Maria and see if she can place him in the brig.” He focused his anger back onto the man who spoke up, “Then tomorrow we shall see if we hang him like the treasonous dog he is or let him find his way in the world without the Free Company. Judging from Captain’s mood I’m guessing you’ll be swinging from the yardarm in the morning, find your self a priest.”

Henri and Artur grabbed the man before he could protest and hauled him out the door.

Baer looked at the remaining men, “You call yourselves Veterans? Bah more like piles of horse dung, Look at you. You sit here knowing damn well you are only alive because of your comrades but yet you sit here sowing dissent in the ranks. I have no proof of that because if I did your asses would be in irons as well. Step out of line though and I will make sure your asses are kicked out of the Free Company, or dead. Clear?”

There were grumblings about the table except from Carl and Alexander, Baer knew then they were just on the side lines and not really into the one man’s talk. Gunney shifted slightly but Baer placed a firm hand on his shoulder and pushed as the Englishman tried to rise. There was a slight contest of strength but Baer easily pushed Gunney back into his seat. Before he turned he squeezed Gunney’s shoulder causing the big man to grimace slightly.

“If I hear one word out of you I will see it done.”

Burroughs opened his mouth to say something but Baer reached forward quickly and placed a hand across the man’s face and squeezed a bit choking off Burroughs voice with pain. Gunney growled slightly, but was forced to endure this display. “One word from you Burroughs… right now and I will snap your worthless neck. I have been a soldier longer then you two have been born and I know all sorts of tricks and how to kill a man quickly with my bare hands. So help me God I will make you an example if I must. Now fucking shape up or get out. Your choice, you have until sunset.”

Baer released both the men and stood; “Now I believe there’s some training on the field that requires the two of you to attend. MOVE!!!”

Baer grabbed Gunney out of his chair and literally tossed him most of the way out the door and looked at Burroughs. The man raised his hands and rose and also moved towards the doors.

“If I don’t see you on the field with the rest of the men you’re asses are gone… you hear me? The FC will turn its back on you like you are doing to them.”

Burroughs sneered at Baer as he left the inn. Baer looked towards the Officers and nodded slightly and moved off to make sure Fawkes was properly secured. If this had been another place or time the man would already be dead and those at the table with him.

As Baer turned to the door he looked at Carl and Alexander, “I would recommend you distance yourselves from him and his, or you may be included in whatever punishment needs to be handed out. If he shapes up great, but if he keeps this up his ass will be gone, either buried or released from service.”

The other two men nodded and made off for the training fields as Baer turned towards the ships.
 
“Fawkes, consider your self under arrest.”

Fawkes tried to strain against the two men holding him. However, Henri had heard what he had said against the men that were his family and he held fawkes none-too-gently.

"Then tomorrow we shall see if we hang him like the treasonous dog he is...."

With this, Fawkes tried even harder to strain against his captors. Henri squeezed even tighter. He heard a pop as a bone in Fawkes arm snapped as he was being held. The man then slumped and no longer put up a fight. Henri and Artur were forced to almost drag him out the door.

Henri looked back at Baer and the big man gave him a slight nod and Henri left the room.

“Henri… Artur… escort this piece of filth to Maria and see if she can place him in the brig.”

"Yessir, right away."

The two young men dragged Fawkes off...
 
12 April 1442, Morning - One Thumb's

As Baer turned to the door he looked at Carl and Alexander, “I would recommend you distance yourselves from him and his, or you may be included in whatever punishment needs to be handed out. If he shapes up great, but if he keeps this up his ass will be gone, either buried or released from service.”

The other two men nodded and made off for the training fields as Baer turned towards the ships. The other sergeants gradually drifted back to their breakfast after the disquieting interlude. There were some mutterings about what do about Borroughs, Gunney, Squealer, and their ilk, but no one could add much to Baer's demonstration.

Landen quickly finished his food in the vacuum of conversation. Time was passing swiftly, and he had to prepare for morning drills before the recruits got there.

"Morning, gentlemen." He proceeded to pack away his utensils. "Chen, before I forget, I'm still not sure what Captain or Lochlan has in mind, but I figure they will want us to work as a highly mobile raiding force. Your men are more trained than mine at mounted combat, so you will provide the bulk of fighting force. My boys will fulfill the infiltration or ambush requirements for a mission.

"But we should probably start with the basics: integrating our units, communication, battlefield maneuver coordination, and that sort of thing. How about some practice riding together and then a few charges? I've got to run, but how about if we pound out the details over lunch?"

"Sounds good to me. I'll meet with you then."

"See you then." Landen turned and made his way to the South Field.
 
April 12, 1442 - Ancona – One Thumbs, early morning

Fawkes tried even harder to strain against his captors. Henri squeezed even tighter. He heard a pop as a bone in Fawkes arm snapped as he was being held. The man then slumped and no longer put up a fight. Henri and Artur were forced to almost drag him out the door.

Henri looked back at Baer and the big man gave him a slight nod and Henri left the room.

“Henri… Artur… escort this piece of filth to Maria and see if she can place him in the brig.”

"Yessir, right away."

The two young men dragged Fawkes off...

Captain had watched the incident without interfering but suddenly he turned to Baer.

“You know, we have to release Fawkes Squealer” said Captain in a low voice.

“What, the bastard is a traitor!” shouted Baer.

“I know, but there is someone backing him up, a bigger fish and we got to catch that fish too in order to restore the peace in the camp”. Captain smiled vaguely and took a deep breath. “I have my suspicions but as I said we have to release Fawkes, at least temporarily in order to find out what is going on”. “Oh and Baer behave towards Borroughs, he is like a lost son to me, he will shape up once we get into action”. Captain smiled when he thought of the good old fool from Bristol, harmless like a baby.

Baer turned red all over his face but in his heart he knew Captain was right, however soon he would arrest Fawkes Squealer again and he took comfort in that fact.
 
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April 12, 1442 - Ancona – One Thumbs, early morning

Chen did not like what he saw. Dissent in the ranks? This could mean trouble later but he trusted Erik's ability to handle the situation so he did not interfere at all.

Later as Erik prepared to leave the tavern, Chen asked Erik," Erik, regarding the joint manevours later, would just after lunch be alright with you?" Erik nodded," I will have to check with Baer to see what programs he got up his sleeves but I think it should be alright. Let's set it at that tentativly first. I will let you know if there are any changes." Chen nodded," Alright Erik. See you later then."

West Field

Chen waited impassively as his sergeants gathered their jaghuns together. Finally the last of the sergeants, O'Floinn reported that his men were ready.Chen nodded as he said to O'Floinn and Jean," Well gentlemen, the morning's programme is yours. Break the new guys in but try not kill them cause we still have other programmes later."

As the sergeants rode off, Chen settled down in his saddle to see what programmes had O'Floinn and Jean thought up for the new recruits....
 
April 12, 1442 - Ancona – The Camp

Out in the fields Borroughs and Gunney were running and lifting stones to show that they could behave too. “Ah that piece of shit, he should be happy that I let him win our little contest” growled Gunney and threw away an enormous stone with one hand. No point in smashing in his head in front of all the officers, eh?”

“No, you know the old saying pretend to be a pig in order to eat the tiger” said Borroughs and smiled briskly at the memory of Baer’s distasteful handling of the situation. "He used the situation to his advantage and as a soldier you should know to pick your fights. I guess he didn’t know what kind of risk he exposed himself to” muttered Borroughs and transfixed a figure made of hay with his sharp sword in one magnificent blow.

Suddenly they heard a familiar voice.

“I am back, yes the bastard Henri broke a bone in my arm, but I am back. That arse licking lackey will pay for what he did to me”. Fawkes Squealer eyes blazed with a sort of mad fury.

”Well I think you should take it easy now that Captain intervened and ordered Baer to let you go” said Borroughs who wanted to distance himself from the strange man and his rebellious ideas. “I may be a sophist but not a revolutionary”.

However many veterans assembled and wanted to hear what Fawkes Squealer had to say.

“You saw Baer, he took command even though Captain was there and he did not bother to ask Captain before he arrested me. Believe me Baer has drugged the Captain and wants to take over the Free Company, that’s why he was so anxious to arrest me. He hadn’t the slightest proof either because he couldn’t have overheard our discussion”.

“No certainly not, there was too much noise” said Gunney contemplatively. ”There are no longer legal rights for the little man in the Company".

“Just so, I will prove to you that white is black, and black is white, you have been tricked by Baer and his thugs” shouted Fawkes Squealer. “Captain released me, that is proof enough that he does not like what Baer and his lackeys are up to, help me, help captain and yourselves!!!”

“Ay, ay” shouted many men and began to fiddle with their weapons, “Baer is bad, Captain is good”.

“You are beginning to resemble a sophist in the most negative meaning, you are a demagogue and you are a traitor!” shouted Geoffrey in indignation and refused to listen anymore to Fawkes Squealer.

“There is no truth out there, no reality, no given future, we create our own reality and destiny!!!!” continued Fawkes Squealer. “Remember that even the Sophist did not exclude beating their opponents down or even using violence to get their way!!”.

“Bah, rubbish Fawkes, both you and I know it” said Geoffrey and began to walk away from Fawkes Squealer.

Fawkes watched Geoffrey leave and shouted “Join us, we need you in charge of our propaganda activities, we will create a sophist paradise and liberate the masses !!!, we are bred up to feel it a disgrace ever to succeed by falsehood we will keep hammering along with the conviction that honesty is the best policy, and that truth always wins in the long run. These pretty little sentiments do well for a child's copy book, but a man who acts on them had better sheathe his sword forever."

The men around Fawkes looked nervously at each other when Geoffrey went away, mutiny was not an easy thing to pull off. “Shall we apprehend the Sergeants at once?” said a man called Benedict Snippy who Fawkes had appointed as person in charge for his personal protection.

“Ha, ha no, no, no we have to be smarter than that” said Fawkes Squealer. “Knife hidden under the smiling face” is the solution. “I recently met with a baron from the region, Antonius de Gamboleta, and he is trying to liberate Ancona and Marche from the clutches of the papacy. When he heard that we have thousands of experienced soldiers here he became very interested and offered to support our cause if we can take over the company”. Fawkes Squealer laughed.

“Hm, wasn´t we supposed to help Captain out” said Gunney sceptically.

Borroughs agreed “Yeah, I only care about Captain, to hell with Gamboleta and the idea of a sophist paradise”

Fawkes Squealer was an intelligent man and he understood that he needed more arguments than an imprecise idea of a sophist paradise. “Here, look 200 gold coins for us to share”. Fawkes Squealer showed a purse filled with glimmering gold coins. “Antonius de Gamboleta also promised to send 300 well equipped elite soldiers to help us round up the traitors in the camp”.

The soldiers around Fawkes Squealer gasped when they saw the juicy coins.

“We must enlist at least 100 men in the camp and then I think we can strike against the traitors” explained Benedict Snippy to the men.

“We will capture the officers at night, confine them and send them to Gamboleta before anyone will know what has happened” continued Benedict Snippy. “Nobody will miss the sergeants anyway and if anybody complains we will throw a couple of gold coins their way to calm them down. I think Gamboleta had an idea to boil the sergeants into glue or sell them as slaves to the Ottomans”. Benedict Snippy burst into a thunderous laughter.

“Why go off to a foreign land and get killed when we can stay here and make us a fortune, we can run this town like kings because Antonius Gamboleta needs our help and in return he will give us this town as our protectorate under his rule” shouted Fawkes Squealer.

“Wow, we can be kings” said Gunney disbelievingly. “Little mam back in Bristol would be impressed by that”.

“Relax Gunney, this is beginning to get really dangerous” said Borroughs, let us abandon the field.

“Yeah you see how great my plan is” shouted Fawkes Squealer to the men who at that point was fired up by the speech. “The only additional demanded I have on Gamboleta is that we get Baer extradited later on when things have cooled down. I will have his arse suspended on a stake outside the camp and the rest of him will be made into excellent glue”, hissed Fawkes Squealer. “Little me will be spokesman for the Free Company in the future on the behalf of captain”.

“I want to see that bastard Baer´s arse suspended on a stake right now” shouted Bendedict Snippy wildly and drew his dagger and demonstratively he cut off the head of a maggot that crawled around in the field.

“But the captain?” said Gunney and almost started to cry when he thought of all the treason the sergeants had committed against his beloved leader. Borroughs desperately tried to drag Gunney away from Fawkes Squealer.

“Well poor Captain is drugged and ill and needs treatment but when he has recovered we will take him back as our leader again of course” Fawkes Squealer smiled. “I think he needs to see a knacker, I mean a doctor and I know an excellent knacker, I mean a doctor, who can cure him”.
 
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April 12, morning -- One Thumb's

Captain and his officers were in conference, discussing this recent disruption, when Borroughs and Gunney reappeared at the door. Bizarrely, the littler Bristolman was seemingly dragging the larger. At the sight of the sergeants, Borroughs seemed panicked, and Gunney seemed angered.

"Captain!" Borroughs cried.

"It's time we put an end to this," the mercenary commander muttered, standing. He stalked across the tavern to where the two men from Bristol stood.

"Captain, I bring news of treachery!" Borroughs recounted the diatribe of Fawkes Squealer at the camp, occasionally interrupted by Gunney, who made regular mention of an entirely separate treachery plotted by the sergeants. The comments of the huge brute were met with cold glares from Captain.

Finally, the story wound down. Captain scratched his chin. "Gamboleta, eh? Very well. Wait here, you two." He turned back to the sergeant's table.

Gunney nearly choked. "Not Baer, Captain! Not the sergeants! You can't trust them!"

Sir Robert spun around and transfixed Gunney with his pale blue eyes. "Quiet, you oaf. Do you believe every word a jester puts in your ear?" He flicked a hand out to a trio of nearby vets, who rose from their table and moved to watch Borroughs and Gunney. "Not a move, and not another word out of you two, or you can start looking for a new employer."

He returned to his table. "Gentlemen, it's time we resolved this little problem. Fritz," he said to the Swiss pikeman-turned-messenger as the latter ran up.

"Sir, the Mayor sends his greetings, and bade me give you this." He produced a sealed scroll which he passed to Captain.

Sir Robert nodded. "Excellent work. Get back to Pascale Peruzza and tell him that Antonius de Gamboleta is planning a coup in his fair city. If he can be found, he should be arrested. Promptly." He turned to the remainder of his officers. "Lukas, you seem particularly disliked by this... group. I would be remiss if I did not permit you to return their venom."

Baer grinned. "With pleasure, sir."

Captain nodded grimly. "Good. Get together fifty vets, trustworthy ones, and meet me outside camp. Go now." He turned to Amric. "Sergeant, you'll have to look after Baer's recruits for now. I will send him along as soon as I can spare him."

"Lochlan, you're with me. The rest of you, get to the fields. I won't have this disruption upset our training schedule and get good and loyal men killed. Dismissed."

* * *

The Free Company camp was largely devoid of activity, as the majority of the mercenaries were busy training. The notable exception was around Fawkes Squealer, where a score of soldiers, mostly veterans, remained listening to his diatribe. A few wiser men had scattered, like Borroughs, when they heard the full scope of Squealer's plan. The rest fell awkwardly silent when Captain shoved his way through their ring. A murmur went up when the men spotted Baer in the Captain's wake. Behind him, Gunney and Borroughs were sullenly led to the edge of the rebel's circle.

Fawkes himself stopped in midsentence as he spotted the mercenary commander approaching. "Ah, Captain," he began. "So good of you to join us. I was just telling these fine men of the plot..."

Fawkes was cut off as Captain's fist rammed into his gut, doubling him over in pain. Hands went to swords as the men prepared to defend their new leader, but suddenly each found a blade at his back, in the hand of one of Baer's veterans. The sole exception was Benedict Snippy, who drew his dagger and moved to attack Captain. Abruptly, one of Lochlan's throwing knives appeared in the back of his thigh, and he dropped to the ground with a scream. Captain stomped on his wrist, snapping the bones and sending the blade skittering into the dirt.

His face unnaturally red with his fury, Sir Robert then turned back to Fawkes Squealer. Grabbing his hair in one hand, he kicked out the legs of the self-described sophist, dropping him to his knees with a whimper. Captain pulled Squealer's head back and stared ice daggers into the Strathclyder's eyes. "Calling for betrayal against me in my own camp," he hissed, his voice razor-sharp.

Fawkes made to reply, but Captain savagely punched him in the face, leaving blood to run freely from a broken nose. He tossed Squealer to Baer's feet. "These two," he began, gesturing at Squealer and Snippy, "will pay for their crimes in blood."

Scrabbling on the ground, Fawkes struggled to a sitting position. "On what authority?" he gurgled.

Captain held up the scroll that Fritz had delivered earlier. "On the authority of the Mayor, and by extension, His Holiness. You, sir, have just attempted to oust the rightfully appointed bailiff of this city. Betraying the Pope, to my mind, ranks highly amongst capital crimes.

"The rest of you," Captain continued, pointing at Squealer's sycophants, "gather your things and get out of my camp."

"But Captain," one protested, "we're Company men..."

"Not anymore!" shouted Sir Robert. "Company men do not betray their brothers! Company men do not listen to the lies of worms like this one!" Another gesture at Fawkes. "Now get out, and do not return. If I see you so much as beg a coin from a true Company man, I'll see you hang." He nodded to Baer. "Lukas, have your men escort this rabble out."

"But, Captain!" Gunney cried. "You can't trust Baer! He's..."

"Shut up!" Captain spat. "Baer is as much a Company man as anyone. Certainly more of one than these idiots," he said, waving to the rebels. "As for you, Gunney, be thankful that your friend Borroughs dragged you off when he did, or you'd be joining them.

"Now, then. Henri, Artur, pick this one up -- again." He pointed to Squealer.

"Yes, sir," said Henri happily. "Shall we take him to the gallows?"

"I don't think the rope is adequate for this one," Captain remarked thoughtfully. "We'll have to see if Kent can't spare us four strong warhorses..."
 
12 April 1442, Morning – South Field

While the recruits warmed up with some target practice, Landen took his veterans off to side for a discussion. The first item on the agenda was to separate the wolves from the sheep. Landen quickly went round from man to man, asking them to name a prospective which he didn’t think was up to scratch. If a name came up twice, the discussion would be made general and the man’s fate decided then and there. Within the hour, Landen had his list of one score newcomers which would be dismissed to the other arms of the Company, and runners were dispatched to notify them.

Jonathan couldn’t help but notice the messengers worming their way among the ranks. With judgment hanging over his head, he got flustered and his next shot went high. Oh, dear God above, please don’t let them send me to the infantry and put me in the hands of their sergeants! As one of the runners approached and then passed by Jonathan’s position, he breathed a sigh of relief.

When the runners returned from their rounds, Landen addressed the assembly again in a somber voice. “Now that we have an additional half-hundred men, we have much more important decision to make: we need to promote ten men to lead the new teams. As you all know, our teams are given much more free reign than the other units of the Company, and they are more likely to operate alone. We need competent leaders; not only with the skills the men respect and a persona they will listen to...”

Kincaid looked down at his boots. There go my chances. How do I show my comrades that I am capable if I’m not given the opportunity? Oh, wait, I had an opportunity last night and fobbed it again. Standing on the outside of the semicircle gathered around Landen, no one noticed Kincaid except Landen, who kept the young nobleman in his peripheral vision to see his reaction. However, if he thought anything, he didn’t let it interfere with his speech.

“… but also someone who won’t lose his head when the unexpected happens. This decision is too important to be made without consulting you men since it will affect you directly. Are there any of the recruits who are up the task, or should we promote corporals solely out of our veteran corps?”

Barker was the first to voice his opinion. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, sir. We’ll be going into combat soon. Our veterans instinctively know how we work together. It will take time for the recruits gain that expertise.”

Nikolai disagreed. “There is one newcomer that picked up our practices quickly: Laszlo Dragomir. His trial last night with Blue Beta showed promise.”

“He certainly has the skills,” chipped in Kincaid.

The younger O’Glaigh added, “I’ll say!” The collective rangers had a friendly laugh at his expense.
 
12 April 1442, Morning- East Field

Amric was waiting impatiently for the recruits and some of the vets to arrive. He had already set up stakes to mark out the area for the sprinting. He had also, in his mind, figured out which men would be in which groups.

A boiling of men out of the camp caught his attention. Men were streaming out of there like an overturned anthill. Apparently things had come to a head and the men were eager to get as far away from Fawkes and his bilious sedition.

"All Right!" Amric bellowed," Get formed up!"

Naming off names he got them in the way he wanted them. One group of purely new men, another with a mix of recruits and vets, and the last as a group of vets only. He put Carl and Alexander in charge of the recruits. He had George and Cyril in charge of the mixed group. Gerd and Oskar would lead the veterans at the start.

"It's about time!" Amric shouted," I hope you had a light breakfast, because we are here to WORK!"

A multitude of groans sussurated through the three groups. Some of the men looked like death warmed over, while others looked like they had been rode hard and put away wet. Still others looked bright eyed and eager to get on with the training.

"It's time to stretch!" Amric roared," Spread out! I want enough room between each of you that you will have to lean a tad to touch the person to either side of you!"

The men shuffled further apart, looking at each other uncertainly. The vets among them just grinned, they knew what was coming up next.

"Bend down and touch your toes!" Amric shouted," Yes! That's right! Keep it up! Very good. Now when you are upright I want you to twist to the left and then to the right! As far to each side as you can go! Nice! Now you have it! Twist left, twist right, bend down and touch your toes! Very good!"

The men were doing it, some better than others, but surprisingly it didn't require a lot of explaining the process.

"Okay, now we're going to add another move," Amric yelled,"Bend, twist and twist, and now add bending backward as far as you can go! That's it! Bend, twist and twist, bend backward, and bend down! Very good! Keep it going!"

Amric let the men do that and other stretching for an hour before he went on to the next phase of training.

"That's it!" Amric bellowed," Stop! Now, Right FACE!"

The men turned to the right and waited for the next order.

"Now this will be an exercise of trust," Amric shouted," We will start with the right side. The first man on the right will allow himself to fall backwards. The man behind him WILL catch him. Try it now!"

Most of the men who fell backward were caught, but a few weren't.

"See those who didn't catch their fellows?" Amric yelled," They failed in their task. This is an exercise in TRUST! You have to trust your fellow soldiers. The man to the left of you, the man to the right of you, the men in front of and behind you are you BROTHERS IN ARMS. They are your FAMILY! They are the men who will try to keep you alive. You are the one who will try to keep them alive!"

Amric hawked and spat," If you CANNOT trust your BROTHERS IN ARMS then you will DIE! Because you MUST trust them. They MUST trust YOU! You eat together, you fight together, you sleep together, you drink together, and some of you will DIE together. But the idea is to take as MANY of the ENEMY with YOU as HUMANELY possible! In the Free Company we expect you to do BETTER than that! We expect you to take at least TWICE as many of the ENEMY than any other ARMY in HISTORY! It is THAT SIMPLE!"

Amric spat once more," Now let's try it AGAIN! And this time do TRY not to SCREW IT UP!"

Again they tried, and this time nobody fouled up.

"GOOD! Now the man who just caught his fellow will now fall backward to the next man," Amric yelled," And so forth until the last man. Then we will ABOUT FACE and do it again! Do IT!"

The men did as they were ordered. Soon they were comfortable with each a little more than yesterday.

"Very good!" Amric shouted," Now I want to see you RUN! Yesterday was long distance, today is for SPEED. The vets will start as they are the closest to the sprinting track. Each line will run for all they are worth and then reform at the end of the run and march back to the end of the line."

The vets started off. They were quick, quicker than the recruits thought possible. Soon they were reformed and back at the end of the line. The mixed group went next and the vets within that group quickly outstripped their recruits companions. The recruit group valiantly did their part as well.

Amric let them do that for another hour before calling a quick break to get the practice pikes and swords. He rearranged the corporals and had Oskar and Gerd deal with the Pikemen, along with Geoffrey who had arrived during the sprints.

Carl, Alexander, George, and Cyril would be dealing with the swordsmen. Amric stood back and watched to see how his new corporals worked with the men during this critical phase of the training.
 
12 April 1442, Morning, Ancona

He had gone the wrong way! The was no other explanation. And now Roger DuPont was lost.

He must have turned the wrong way. He had never seen the tavern. He walked past the docks--or did he? Now he couldn't remember--and there was a tree there in the middle of the road, but where was he now?

He looked around. He was in a tiny back alley, staring at the dirt when a "Heads Up!" sounded and he had to dodge the contents of a chamber pot. He succeeded. Mostly. Now my feet will smell all day...

He looked up and yelled, "Could you..." before seeing the emptier of the pot had vanished. And he realized he was yelling in English, anyways. He rounded a corner and suddenly found himself at the end of town. He passed through a quiet gate and was in the country.

DuPont continued to walk, and walk, until he finally came to a stone fence and saw, a ways away, some troops forming up. And he heard a loud voice egging them on. He then watched as the voice drove the troops to begin jogging around a set of stakes in the ground. How did I get here? I bet this is the Free Company... but surely they don't take the route I've just taken.

Roger DuPont waited a full hour before he began walking (still not very confidently) toward the man in charge, who continued to bellow occassionally but mainly watched with what might have been satisfaction.

"Hello sir...do I know you sir?" DuPont trembled and hoped the man wouldn't bark at him. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to interrupt or anything. My name's Roger DuPont. Is there anything...I don't mean to interrupt..." DuPont closed his mouth and wished he had never spoken as he eyed the man's face.
 
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