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

[redwolf]

April 11th, Morning - One Thumb's

As Chen waited for Wu'tu to reply, a man stormed into One Thumb, the fury and madness in his eyes clear for all to see. Chen, who was sitting at the table nearest the entrance turned to see one of the new recruits.

Chen rose to his feet and spoke to him," Are you alright?"

Andre Despreaux snarled," They say I am out! I want to be in the Free Company!"

Chen replied," Well, the Free Company always demands the highest standards. If you can't make the cut, you can always try elsewhere. You are not helping yourself by making a scene here." With that, Chen turned back to his table.

Before Chen could sit down, Andre grabbed the back of the Chen's uniform and before Chen could react, he found himself being flung into the tavern, Andre shouting all the time," I will join the Free Company! No one can stop me!"

Chen crashed into Baer just as Baer was turning to to see what was going on. Both men went sprawling onto the ground. Belatedly, Chen remembered a messager who was here just a while ago telling them about a mad recruit and his attack on Cyril. This must be the one.

As Chen and Baer got back on their feet, Andre drew Chen's sword which was still on the table and started waving it dangerously. Wu'tu retreated from the table he was sitting as steel was drawn. Chen drew a dagger. At the far end, Captain and Erik has gotten to their feet....

 

[Craig Ashley]

"I know what you were fighting for Henry." The Lieutenant said from behind the disabled veteran. "You were fighting for you brothers, the brothers who look after you now."

"Yes..." Henry trailed off, obviously not sure if he could even call Lochlan sir anymore.

"Remember what I said, you need anything, come talk to me. I've heard from Milo your doing fine work with the quartermasters, keep it up." Lochlan nodded to Baer, acknowledging the big German's concern.

“You misunderstand me ... sir. I know what I was fightin' for when I was swinging a sword on that field. I was fightin' for my brothers, just like you says. The Free Company takes care of it's own. You 'n' Cap'n 'ave show me that each day you put up with my sorry ass. I know I bitch and moan more than I 'ave any right to. Any other company, any other officers woulda just dumped me like a busted piece of equipment. An' they'd be perfectly right to do it, since that's pretty much what I am nowadays. But I don't question what I was doin' when I was fightin' 'em sonna bitches back at Cremona, or any other scrap we've had through the years.” A hint of pride began to creep into Jameson's voice. “I've been in every engagement since we was brawlin' wit' the French. In every one of 'em, I was fightin' for the same thing. I was fightin' for my brothers.”

“What I was talkin' 'bout before, it wasn't that. I was talkin' 'bout when the fightin' was done, or at least done for me, and I was just layin' there. Lieutenant, I was in the scrap o' my life. I was fightin' 'gainst death. It wasn't like fightin' a man or even like fightin' a whole army o' men. I don't have the words to e'plain it, but take my word for it. It was one bloody hell o' a fight. Thing is, Lieutenant. I look at myself now, an' I hafta ask, what in damnation made me so damn set 'gainst dyin'?

I can't do 'ardly anything for myself anymore. The only thing I was ever good at was swingin' a blade before the other guy could. Now a five year brat o' his great grandfather could take me wit' out a second thought as to how. And if Milo is tellin' ya I'm doin' a good job, 'en he's a bigger liar than I'm a cripple. I never 'ad a head for numbers 'n' certainly not for writin' o' readin'. I's not a thinkin' man, never was 'n' never will be. I's a fightin' man, and when I was bleedin' from this wound and that wound, I fought the fight o' my life, an' I won. I kept on fightin' cause I told myself I 'ad more livin' to do. But this ... sometimes I ain't sure ya could call this livin'.”

Henry looked over the faces of Baer and Loclan. He could see the sadness ... no, the pity in their eyes. Henry drained his drink and stood up. “Thanks for the drink ... Seargant. I'll get my flask filled up an' I'll be on my way.” Slowly Henry Jameson made his way over to the bar.

 

[Valdemar]

11th, One Thumb

Johan allowed Hannibal to find his way back by himself, and without think simply tethered the great beast at the usual place almost knocking over a blond man with a blemished skin, obviously a northerner that hadn’t been in the Italian sun for too long.

Johan apologized in German per instinct assuming that would be natural to the man rather than Italian and was rewarded with recognition, but obviously not understanding.

“Is this were the Free Company are recruiting?” The man asked in fluent Latin.

Johan nodded and tried to dig out the Latin phrases from his youth, “it is, but most of them have retired to the practise fields, let’s see if we can find an officer for you.”

“Much appreciated,” the man looked relieved my name is Christian Jensen, I’m from Denmark, I was beginning to fear nobody would understand.”

Johan beamed, “Denmark,eh?” the knight changed gears and slowly continued in Danish, “I know a little of that tongue, I’m from Holstein. Now would you be infantry or cavalry? I’m cavalry myself.” No need to let him know how and why he had learned that.

Christian smiled, and nodded towards Hannibal, “yes I can see that. Why didn’t anybody speak Latin?”

“Some do, but most are not educated that way, I hope you know enough snippets of German to get by, otherwise you’d never understand an order.” Johan smiled to know he was joking and followed the man inside.

He was about to introduce the man to Jaeger, when suddenly some fool began waving a sword inside the tavern. He was not about to interfere unless the fool got too close to Rosa, and the newly appointed sergeant pulled closer to the wall.

 

[Judge]

April 11, 1442 - Ancona – One Thumbs

When Borroughs entered the One-Thumbs one of the bartenders, a Moor from Spain who stated that he nowadays was a Morisco, a convert to Christianity, carefully watched the mercenaries that invaded the premises. Immediately Borroughs ran into his old friends Amric and Geoffrey and started to plan the coming activities.

“Bloody soulless Christian butchers” said the Moor to a friend of his in the bar.

“Me think we have some walking money bags here” said the friend and laughed.

“These men are warriors so I will have to wait and see if I get any opportunity. However they will probably cause problems so I think I will try to scare them away instead”. The Moor giggled. “Schh they are coming”.

"Got any decent beer and women” asked Borroughs hopefully.

"Women?" said the bartender in an unhelpful voice, "no beer and women for brutes like you, killing decent people and ravaging this great landscape is bad enough me think”

“Now you wretched sinner, I will teach you a lesson” Borroughs was a very hot-tempered person and he began to fiddle with his sword.

“Serve us beer or you will be sorry Morisco” said JayJay standing close to Borroughs and controlled that the sharp dagger he brought still was there.

"Ay, ay," said the Moor and reluctantly he served the mercenaries beer.

”I will ask this one more time, do you have any girls here?”. Borroughs was really fuming and he fixated the bartender with his burning eyes hoping that he would get some nice excuse for using his fist or sword on the arrogant man.

"Hehe, we have some nice girls and they are cheap too my violent friend”. The Moor´s lips formed a cruel smile and his teeth glimmered.

“Relax Borroughs, the Free company has a policy that does not include violence against civilians, not even against Moslems in peace time” said the Captain and tried to calm down the situation since Chen was already involved in some kind of fight nearby and the Captain did not want that to escalate any further.

Authority and high-sounding declarations about equality that the Free Company tried to preach did not particularly bind Borroughs being a straightforward man from Bristol. However he wanted to drink beer and meet women so he decided to rest his case and watched Chen fight instead. He did not interfere though because he knew that Chen could handle the situation.

"And what sort of girls may they be?" asked Borrough´s old friend Geoffrey since he was anxious not to escalate the tension between Borroughs and the bartender.

“Ah very nice and young girls and then I have a special offer, a former lady I say, with great experience but she is a bit tough to handle. The boys around her call her Donna Mobile”. The Moor hated this stinking Christian village and he hated all liquor and cheap women who frequented this place but he had to earn his living in some way after being chased away from Spain by Torquemada and his followers.

“Mm, Donna Mobile, that sounds interesting” said Borroughs and smiled at the bartender to show that he harboured no hard feelings towards the bartender anymore.

Suddenly a voice rang out behind the two friends. “Ah two real gentlemen. I am not used to meet other than poor peasants around here you know. I bet Hussein has told you about me, giving me dirty names and all, don’t believe him”. She smiled and accepted a drink in the bar that Borroughs offered her. “Just call me Donna guys, ah really like those long hard swords you carry around”.

The mercenaries had great problems taking their eyes off the women in front of them. She was tastefully dressed, almost like a lady, and her face was immensely attractive with only slight sign of age. As Borroughs drank more beer he found it increasingly more difficult to keep his eyes in control and frequently he found himself staring at her tempting breasts without being able to take his easy away from her. Soon it would not only be the eyes he would find it difficult to control he thought and ordered more beer and drinks.

Donna smiled and moved closer to Borroughs. “Do you have snow in England?”

“Not much”. Borroughs offered her another drink and ordered Grappa for him Amric and Geoffrey. “Argh that Italian shit really taste dreadfully, give me a huge beer instead,” shouted Borroughs.

Then they all discussed different topics with many old and new friends from the company, like Cyril and Lochlan. Borroughs kept on talking about the Holy Land and the old crusades and referred to his very fruitful discussions with the Hospitaller on these subjects. As the beer consumption increased Borroughs began to speak thickly and they all laughed at his attempt to discuss where Prester John actually could be hiding these days while his eyes were glued to Donna´s breasts. Finally Donna seemed to be a bit bored with the situation and decided to cut a long story short.

“Wait for me here boys, I have to visit the toilet” said Donna in a sweet voice.

“I hope they have some other nice girls here because this one is mine,” whispered Borroughs in an even thicker voice than before to Amric and Geoffrey when Donna temporarily left the room to go to the toilet outside. “This is the best part of the life as a mercenary” said Borroughs solemnly as he spotted Donna on her way back to the bar with a horny smile on her lips.

“So do you have some money for me boys?” asked Donna in a misery voice and made it perfectly clear that without money there would be no banging.

“Plenty, we just got paid and then we manage to collect some money from a couple of dead Venetians on the battle-field too” said Borroughs in a cheerful voice and picked up a purse full of silver and gold coins.

“Ahh I see, little me and my friends will give you value for your money boys, don’t worry”. Donna shone like a sun and started to giggle uncontrollably when she saw all those nice juicy gold coins glimmer in the pretty shadowy bar.

What a night this would be. The shabby camp was forgotten and the liquor made the men from the company feel warm inside. Life as a mercenary was usually wretchedness and dullness but tonight they did not have to think about that, tonight they would rumble.

 

[Machiavellian]

April 11th, Morning - Ancona

His shoulders were still sore, but he was thankful he had finally broken down and bought the mule that trudged behind him in the streets of the port city. The majority of his belongings were strapped and tied across the back of the gray pack animal.

Touching his shoulder again, more skin flaked away, the sunburned flesh barely still there.

What kind of mercenary am I, that I let this sunburn trouble me?

The thought traveled through his head several times, bringing a grim chuckle to his lips as he manuevered through the crowds of city dwellers. He couldn't understand a word of what they were saying, but fortune had smiled upon him when he encountered a swede by the docks who set him in the right direction.

Pausing to make sure all his belongings were still in place on the gray mules back, the Finnish mercenary once more continued on his way. With purpose he made his way to an odd establishment, the clip-clop, clip-clop of the mules footfalls upon the ground ringing out behind him.

April 11th, Late Morning - One Thumb's

He stood before the door of the establishment for several moments, glancing back and forth between the Mule and the wooden door.

Back and forth. From the door to the mule. From the Mule to the door. And back again.

"What am I going to do with you, you foolish beast? Can't very well bring you in with me, can I?" He said in his native tongue.

The mule just stared back, giving a sort of sneeze or cough.

With a grumble, the professional soldier stepped forward to the mule, tieing its leash of sorts to the side of a post. Awkwardly patting the animal on the head with his large hand, he gave another grumble as he undid the straps of his gear.

In a matter of minutes, the burden had been shifted from the mules back to the finnish mercenary's. His sunburned shoulders were hardly happy about the change in situation. While a few items still clung to the mules back, the majority went with the professional soldier as he entered the tavern.

The door swung open and he was greeted to the sound of voices raised in anger, along with a few shouts. Instantly on guard, the Finn slowed in his steps, knowing the heavy weight of his gear would hinder him in combat.

He got a good look of Andre Despreaux, his face flushed with anger, waving a naked sword in the air with clearly violent intentions. The finn considered, but did not take any action. After all, he couldn't clearly understand what was being said or what had happened and did not want to accidently cut down a member of the very company he wished to join. Most importantly, he was not yet employed.

Best to let this play out for a few moments. Perhaps I'll get a taste of what the future presents for me.

He thought to himself with wry grin creeping across his hawkish countenance.

 

[Lord Durham]

April 11th, Morning - One Thumb's

"My name is Roger DuPont. I come from England. I'm here to write about..."

"Captain?"

Captain leaned back. It was de Bloomfield. "What?"

"Lieutenant Jaeger wants to talk to you."

"Very well. Mr. Dupont, We'll talk later."

* * *

Later in the morning Captain Lochlan and Jaeger were still processing recruits. There was a brief pause when Baer walked in with a worse-for wear Henry Jameson. Captain raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. However, Lochlan went over to have a few words.

When he returned, Captain and Erik were seated at a table. For the most part One Thumb's was actually calm - as calm as a boisterous bar would ever be.

"You heading out Lochlan?" Erik asked.

Lochlan nodded. "Landen and I are reorganizing the rangers, and I think one of us ought to go make sure poor Kent and Jacques don't drown in a sea of idiot recruits."

Captain chuckled, and waved a hand. "Get out of here then, we'll talk later." Lochlan flashed a grin, and favored his commander with a vague ranger salute.

Jaeger leaned back. "So, Jean's a dad. Teach him to come bursting in here. I'm sure he's a few florins poorer by now." He jerked his head toward Johan, as the man-at-arms approached with a blond-haired man in tow.

Captain's response was interrupted when someone burst into the bar and proceeded to have words with Chen. Suddenly Chen was sprawling into a seated Baer, and the stranger was waving the Chin's sword. Captain and Erik looked at one another and climbed to their feet.

As they approached the scene Sir Robert overheard Borroughs asking the shifty Moorish bar assistant, "I will ask this one more time, do you have any girls here?"

The Moor grinned. "Hehe, we have some nice girls, and they are cheap, too, my violent friend."

Captain flicked a hand at One-Thumb. Over the past two years the gregarious tavern owner had picked up some of the basic hand-signals that were the specialty of the Company Rangers. One-Thumb grinned and nodded.

Captain said, "Relax Borroughs, the Free Company has a policy that does not include violence against civilians, not even against Moslems in peace time."

Borroughs passed Captain a quick look.

The Company commander sighed. This one may have a short career with us. Later though, I have more important matters at hand. His voice rung out. "You! Put up that sword! Now!"

There was a pause as the man hesitated. The hesitation cost him when an enraged Baer grabbed the guy from behind, holding him in a tight embrace. Chen rushed in and wrestled away the sword.

Baer looked at Captain, who jerked his head at the door. "Make sure he doesn't return."

The man many called Grizzly nodded and left the tavern, carrying the protesting would-be mercenary like a sack of oats. He mumbled as he passed through the door. "Maybe a swim in the Adriatic might cool you off, little man."

Jeager chuckled. "Never a dull moment."

There was another shout, this time from behind the bar. One-Thumb was glaring at the Moorish barkeep he had hired a while ago. "Enough! Talk thievery when you think I can't hear? I may have one thumb, but I've got two ears. Get out of here. Now!"

The Moor began to protest, but One-Thumb continued. "And take your whores with you." He glared at the aging tart known as Donna. "Out!"

Minutes later the Moor had left, along with Donna and a slavering Borroughs.

Captain and Jaeger sat down. The German repeated, "Never a dull moment."

 

[Valdemar]

Nikolai had been sent with Kincaid to round up a few missing rangers, presumably at One Thumbs when they stumbled onto the brewing fight, or more precisely they bumped into a huge backpack that blocked the view, but they could hear the brawl from somewhere behind the big pack.

Nikolai grunted, “go see if you can find them, while I figure out what’s going on here.”

Kincaid nodded and slipped sideways along the wall. Nikolai looked at the big pack that blocked his path, there was something familiar with the way it was done, not from around here for sure, he edge sideways and managed to see the owner of the pack.

“Some sunburn you got there friend,” he tried in Rus.

The man smiled, obviously understanding and replied haltingly, “Yes, I never knew the sun would be that strong here.”

“Where are you from?”

“Finland, I do not speak Rus very well.”

“It’ll do, go see those officers over there and make sure you tell them what type of weaponry you use.” He paused, “Or do you need me to come with you and translate?”

 

[TheWildFerret]

11 April 1442, noon Ancona – One Thumb’s

Erik stood and looked at Captain. The steady flow of recruits seemed to be dwindling and most of the people in the inn had moved out to the training fields. “Time to go to work sir,” Erik threw Captain a lazy salute as he walked towards the door.

Erik turned to Baer and nodded as the big man fell in step with Erik. “Guess we get to see who has the lower intestinal fortitude to make it, eh Lieutenant?”

Erik snorted a laugh, “Sometimes I think no one meets up to your standards Lukas.”

Baer merely grinned, “Perhaps they don’t”

They continued on towards the Training grounds discussing unit composition and training plans.

 

[Machiavellian]

April 11th, Late Morning - One Thumb's

Watching the fight, his massive bundle of gear strapped to his back as if he were a pack mule, the Finn felt someone bump into him.

Nikolai grunted, “go see if you can find them, while I figure out what’s going on here.”

Kincaid nodded and slipped sideways along the wall. Nikolai looked at the big pack that blocked his path, there was something familiar with the way it was done, not from around here for sure, he edge sideways and managed to see the owner of the pack.

“Some sunburn you got there friend,” he tried in Rus.

Hearing a familiar language, the finnish mercenary's fingers twitched for a moment, before he turned to see Nikolai.

He quickly accessed the man before replying, purposefully making his Rus more halting than it could have been.

“Yes, I never knew the sun would be that strong here.”

Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a grizzly of a man dragging the enraged Despreaux out of the establishment. He was somewhat annoyed that he missed the conclusion of the encounter, but was careful not to let that show.

“Where are you from?” the other man said once more in Rus.

“Finland, I do not speak Rus very well.”

“It’ll do, go see those officers over there and make sure you tell them what type of weaponry you use.” He paused, “Or do you need me to come with you and translate?”

He looked over this friendly stranger carefully for a few long moments before responding. "Need and want are two very different things. If it would not be much trouble?"

Nikolai grunted bemused and gave a nod. "Come with me then and let us see if we can't make things go smoothly."

They soon made their way to the gathering of officers, Nikolai walking in front as he did not want to have to try to see behind that backpack. While the Inn had begun to be less crowded, the line was still fairly sizable. It was not everyday that the Free company was hiring potential new members.

Shifting the weight of his pack, trying to agitate the sunburn as little as possible, he nearly knocked over the man who stepped up behind him. The finn considered offering apology, but thought better of turning around. More than likely he would only end up knocking over more people.

Nikolai glanced around with a small amount of annoyance. He did not really want to have to wait on this line, but what could he do..

 

[unmerged(10971)]

11 April, Late Morning: One Thumb's

Jean quickly learned the prices of the various drinks at the tavern. Not a person prone to drinking himself, he nevertheless had to pay for the rest of the people there. Quickly worn out by the congratulations and the paying for drinks, he soon found himself holding a glass of wine.

As he put the drink up to his lips, a commotion came from the area near the door. Jean instictively grabbed his sword. As he looked over, he saw Chen and Baer on the ground, and a madman waving a sword near them. Jean drew his sword and rushed in.

Unfortunately, Jean was not a very skilled swordsman. Within a few seconds he was flying back, nearly hitting Captain and Jaeger who had just stood up. The man prepared for another swing when Captain shouted, "You! Put up that sword! Now!"

The man hesitated for a second. Suddenly, Baer ran up from behind and held him while Chen grabbed the sword. Jean pulled himself up. "I'd better go off to the west field to see how the cavalry are doing. I'm not sure leaving them with O'Floinn was such a good idea!"

As Jean jumped onto his horse, he saw Carlo, Lorenzo, and Marie walking down the street. "Ah, you missed the drinks! Come, we have recruits to train! And Marie, aren't you supposed to be with the new mother and child?"

"She'll be fine with the physician. Though I don't expect any problems. Where'd you get that cut?"

"Someone--either insane or drunk, I'm not sure which. Ran in, grabbed Chen's sword, and started swinging. They got him, though."

Carlo and Lorenzo mounted their horses. Jean pulled Marie onto his, then swung around and led the other two to the west field.

 

[Judge]

April 11, 1442 - Ancona – outside One Thumbs-morning (Donna´s place)

Borroughs followed Donna to a small house and quickly he pleased himself. Ahh what a great morrning it had been, worth every coin Donna had asked for though admittedly she did not look as fresh as she had inside the One Thumb´s now that he was beginning to sober up.

“He is here” Donna stood in the door and talked into the mist that usually appeared in the morning in Ancona. Suddenly she turned around. “My dear friend the Moor is waiting for you outside with a couple of friends from the forest, robbers I think”. Donna laughed. “He wants some money too”.

“Ok, I will take my sword with me and teach him a lesson” said Borroughs and got dressed furious that he had been tricked into a trap by an infidel and a whore. Gently he stepped out from the house and a recognizable voice rang out.

“Ah my Christian friend, why such a hurry?” It was the Moor and three filthy, shaggy men that seemed to be robbers accompanied him. The Moor giggled and licked his lips. “Come here my friend and tell me some more of the crusades and Prester John.

“Not so tough now you piece of shit” said the Moor and gave Borroughs a blow with his fist. Borroughs fell to the ground and blood started to pour from his mouth. The Moor kicked on Borroughs face and laughed. “Just a fine crusader, now I will get my revenge on Torquemada and his followers through you”. He picked up a small sharp knife. “This belonged to my father and before he was toasted by the knights of the Montesa Order in Valencia he gave it to me and told me to carve some nice slices of Christian meat with it”. When saying that the Moor was yelling with excitement and his easy were glowing of hatred and lust.

Borroughs knew his days were counted but suddenly one of the other robbers screamed and fell to the ground transfixed by a sharp sword.

“Ah glad to see you” said Borroughs. It was Captain who had returned, probably because he had a fifth sense about the oily Moor and the damned whore who had fooled Borroughs into a trap.

In a split second Borroughs rolled over and managed to pick up his sword that the Moor had thrown away. Meanwhile the Captain cut down one of the other robbers and wounded him seriously.

The Moor cut Borroughs with his dagger and wounded his left arm. In the meantime Captain struck down the third robber who was accompanying the Moor with his sword and cut off his hand. The robbers had enough of fighting and started to withdraw. Donna being a pragmatic woman accompanied the robbers but the Moor refused to yield.

“Ahh, cowards, they only want easy prey but I want Christian blood”. The Moor once again cut Borroughs on his left arm but this time Borroughs was prepared and transfixed the Moor with his sword. “Deus Vult my friend, Deus Vult, too late for you my friend” said Borroughs enthusiastically as the Moor’s face turned paler and paler when Borroughs twisted the sword inside the Moor.

“Argh, bloody dog” The Moor gurgled blood and started to scream loudly.

Borroughs still suffering from a headache was greatly annoyed by this clatter and decided to separate the Moor from his head with a precise blow.

“Don’t do it” said Captain. “We don’t want to cause more trouble here in Ancona than necessary”.

“All right”. Borroughs pulled out the sword but gave the Moor a thrust on his head with his foot and the Moor fell to the ground seriously injured.

“Well Borroughs, from now on I would like to see you behave properly. I will let this little incident pass because I know everything about the tragic death of your friend and your problems after that, but I urge you to calm down”

“Yes sir, of course” Borroughs was a straight forward man but he knew when he should act gratefully. “I will behave like a choir boy from now on”

Captain smiled.” I sincerely hope so, let´s get back to the camp”

 

[redwolf]

11 April, Late Morning: One Thumb's

Chen drew his dagger and prepared to rush the madman while Baer started moving to the rear of the madman.

Before Chen could do anything, Jean rushed in and attacked the madman. A few seconds later, Jean was sent sprawling as well. The man prepared for another swing when Captain shouted, "You! Put up that sword! Now!"

The man hesitated. Baer and Chen made their moves. Baer grabbed him in an embrace from the back while Chen rushed in to grab his sword, giving the mad man a punch in the ribs as well for his troubles.

After Baer grabbed the mad man out of the tavern, Jean left as well for the West Field. Chen walked over to Wu'tu," Well, shall we make our way over to the West Field as well?"

 

[stnylan]

11 April, morning, the camp

"I swear next time Pierre cheats I am going to stuff him in here head first!" Oskar exclaimed peevishly for what must have been the ninth time that morning so far. Gerd chuckled silently. "Don't you start laughing at me! He was cheating. I saw it!"

Gerd shook his head slightly and pointed to Oskar, and then made a small tipping motion with his hand.

"Oh right, I was cheating to - but he did it first! And then he denied it, the little sod. I mean, when Grizzly asked me of course I was honest. I mean, come on, cheating is practically in the rules! And there he is, getting off scot free, doubtless getting pickled and here were are digging some new trenches."

Gerd shrugged, and renewed shovelling. They were getting close to finishing anyway.

"And what do we need new trenches for? Ask me its just Baer starting to have a serious lack of imagination. Now that Amric fellow, at least he has the odd idea, but Grizzly is a bit like one of our formations. Rigid. I'm sure its not good for him. I mean, thinking in straight lines like that."

Gerd carefully inspected the part of the trench he had just dug. It was a good trench. He ran the shovel up the two sides, making sure they were more or less straight. And then he allowed himself another small smile before turning to see Oskar still opining about Baer's mental state, all the while furiously shovelling. He was also almost done.

Gerd got up out of the trench and stretched his back. He looked over towards the edge of the camp. There seemed to be some commotion, greater than usual, coming from the nearby fields. He stood watching Oskar finish up, resting on the shovel. He again critically inspected the trench - or his part of it. He frowned slightly at Oskar's somewhat less tidy effort. But then Oskar was finished and jumped up to join him.

"Well now, that's the end of that." Gerd looked curiously towards the commotion. "What? Oh all that noise. Well, I heard someone say not long ago we were expecting new recruits. Looks like some of them arrived. Now, let's put these back and head off and get a drink. I'm parched, and in need of watering!"

 

[Valdemar]

11th, at sea, somewhere in the Adriatic

The small ship cut through the waves like a dolphin leaving the coast at considerable speed. It was small but of an unusual design, not seen often in these waters, no oars and all sail. A northern seaman might recognize it, but not down here. It seemed very small, but still it was spacious enough in the holds for a good cargo and large enough to hold fifty men if need be and more than fast enough for those fifty men ever to be needed.

A casual observer that let his eye follow the wake back to shore would be able to see a small village on the coast, nested close to a strange rocky outcropping on the beach, and a building on top of the rock. There was nothing particular about the village, like all other in the area it had served three masters for generations, the sea as fishermen, the land as peasants on the fields of the local noble, and the pirates that had scoured the Island dotted coast for as long as man had lived there.

The village lay on the Dalmatian coast, in lands contested by Venice, Austria and diverse smaller dominions for all eternity. No change in the ruler had ever changed the live of the inhabitants, and none of the villagers had ever expected change to come to their lives.

And yet it had, or so the elders said. Their local lord, some inland petty count that had never in their live time visited the coast or the small, fortified mansion on the rock his forefathers had build, had for some reason suddenly given up this small part of his fief to a stranger, a man not from this part of the world. Or so the rumour had it.

For even though there had been strange visitors, and the house had been repaired, the entry barred by a wall and gate and the place inhabited by a small group of men or caretakers, they had never really believed that the quiet man that had come some months ago truly was their new master. Possibly he was an important aid, but the owner? He didn’t really behave like a noble.

Now that he had gone, left on that strange ship of his, the elders were not so sure, he seemed very certain and something in his eyes had betrayed that he might not be all he seemed.

*****

Frederik stood on the deck of his new ship and wondered if this was the right thing to do. He had purchased the lands based on location of that village and the house then used his contacts in the Company to get everything sorted out and hired some old soldiers from the area to live their as guards.

His gut feeling told him that that place on earth would be a good spot for gathering information, the nexus between Venice, Ottomans, Austria and Hungary and her small independent Kingdoms, not to mention the Italian states across the water.

For now however it was money lost, unless he started some of the more illicit trades so traditional in the area, however that would draw attention.....

For now, he would head to Ancona to check on some old friends, not to mention Maria and Johan; it had been months since his last visit.

He opened the satchel beside him and weighed down the papers with stones as he pulled them out, to prevent the wind from blowing them overboard. He had been busy on so many fronts these past months and years.

The battle of Cremona over and his confrontation with Cosimo fruitless he had turned his attention towards picking up the pieces after Guilaume and Syban in earnest. Working his way across the peninsular and back and then deeply into Austria and Hungary he had slowly, painfully slowly re-established contacts on higher levels. This in it self was not so different, living behind the scenes had been a fact of life for years, but still the shift from the merchant and criminal elements to the officials and nobles that ruled this world, at least in theory, never ceased to amaze him.

How could they be so arrogant and so blind at the same time, and still hold so much power? He shook his head and adjusted his dress slightly, he silently wondered if Maria had returned to her old self when he returned, their love had never died, but she had avoided intimacy on many levels since that fatal day she got into the hands of Drakken.

Frederik’s hands involuntarily shook, he had traced the German ever since, but been unable to lay his hands on the weasel, One day, one day he will be mine, and I will not kill him, but...

 

[unmerged(10397)]

11th of April - Morning - West Field

O'Floinn considered the recruits. A few were skilled with blades, but not many were truly good bowmen. He was trying to encourage trust between them, or at least those that were likely to be accepted. He turned to a dark-haired Englishman and tossed him an apple, telling him to put it on his head. Confused, he complied.

"Would ye trus' this man," he gestured to another young mercenary, "to shoot this apple o' yer 'ead with his bow?"

The Englishman seemed angrered at this.

"Of course not! The fool will take out my eye!"

"If ye can't 'rust 'im wi' somethin' so simple as shootin' accurately a' such close range, 'ow will ye'ver trust him to guard yer back in combat?"

"What fool cannot guard his own back? I will defeat any who come to me, back or front!"

"What fool? One like you. Get off this field, ye won' be joinin' this Company."

"What!? I will join it! No Celt shall reject me, second cousin of the brother-in-law of the Duke of Wessex!"

"Go, now"

"Fool! I'll kill you and take your place!"

Unfortunately for the young Englishman, he had hardly taken a step when Lim bashed him harshly from behind with the hilt of his sword. He fell head first onto the ground. Writhing in pain, he managed to turn and draw his sword, flinging it awkwardly at Lim and Zhang. They leapt back, out of the way. The Englishman lunged at O'Floinn's feet. The Celt took a quick step back and kicked the furious mercenary sharply. He fell back, exhausted, finally unable to keep his rage going. O'Floinn motioned for one of his veterans to take the Englishman away. Turning back to the other recruits, he continued calmly, as though nothing had just happened.

"Now, you must see that you are part of a unit, not an individual who happens to be on the same side as other individuals. If you do not trust the men you fight alongside, you will die. Now, we're going to do some archery exercises."

 

[unmerged(10971)]

11 April, Morning: West Field

Jean, Marie, Carlo, and Lorenzo arrived at the training field just in time to see the Englishman being dragged off. Jean helped Marie off, then rode up to O'Floinn, who was supervising the training.

"Danny! Having trouble with the new recruits, I see!"

"Aye, Jean. 'E lunged at me. Got mad when I tol' 'im 'e wasn't joinin' the Company. Gave 'im a good beatin' 'fore I 'ad 'im taken off."

"We had one of those back at One Thumb's. Took four men to bring him down. What are they doing now?"

"Archery practice."

"Right. I think I'll let you keep supervising, I need some practice myself."

Jean waved Carlo and Lorenzo along with him. Drawing his bow, he drew it and fired at one of the targets. He missed terribly.

The person beside him chuckled. "Ha, you look like you haven't even used a bow before! Let me show you."

The man took his bow. Taking out an arrow, he set it on the string. "Now watch closely." He drew back, aimed, then fired. The arrow hit the target in what would have been the shoulder of a human.

Jean whistled. "Not bad. I saw what you did. Let me try." The man tossed the bow over to him. Jean took out an arrow, set it on the string, drew, aimed, and fired. The new technique worked. The arrow went straight through the "head."

"Now, I'll tell you what you were doing wrong..."

 

[unmerged(20394)]

11 April 1442, late morning: One-Thumbs

Apparently, even standing in line for the Free Company is to be exciting, Laszlo mused. Bartenders yelling at Moors and whores, nutcases both sword-wielding and Messianic...

The line inched forward as he reflected on the last altercation. He'd wanted to help, but the first swordsman who'd rushed in had been batted away, and Laszlo had few illusions about his own skill. As for his crossbow...well, the situation had been handled about as non-violently as could have been expected.

I could have dealt with him very swiftly, and very permanently, Laszlo thought as he stepped forward, but I am NOT a murderer.

"That's nice to know, but I asked your name." Laszlo gave a start, and looked up into the bemused face of Captain. "Or would you like to confess to more crimes you haven't committed?"

"Er...many apologies, sir," Laszlo stammered, embarrassed that he'd spoken his thoughts aloud. "I am Laszlo Dragomir. I'm...ah...a marksman."

"That so? I hope you're a competent one. The Rangers could use more good men. Look for Landen; I believe he's testing recruits in the West Field." Captain chuckled. "Feel free to continue not murdering people. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd better go look after Borroughs..."

*****

It took Laszlo some time to get his bearings, but eventually he found his way to the West Field--only to find it overrun with cavalry. Glancing about, he spotted a familiar face: the man who'd rushed into the bar fight and had been beaten back handily, who was now on horseback with drawn bow. Archery training. Hope he's better with that than his blade. Jean drew, fired, and hit the chest of his target. A man beside him clapped, congratulating him as other recruits looked on. Laszlo jogged into the midst of the mounted men.

"Excuse me," he interrupted.

Jean paused mid-draw, and glanced quizzically over the assembled recruits. None had spoken, but one of them pointed at a spot just left of Jean's horse. He looked down into Laszlo's smiling face.

"Infantry recruits are to report to the East Field, man. Or have you simply forgotten your horse?" Jean grinned, and the recruits chuckled.

"Er, no," replied Laszlo. "I'm looking for Landen; I'm supposed to join up with the Rangers, I think?"

Jean nodded. "It's been chaos, I tell you. No one knows where they're supposed to be! But I imagine Landen and Lochlan took the scouts to the South Field." He waved Laszlo off.

"Thank you, kind sir. Good bladework in the tavern, by the by." Laszlo tipped a wink at Jean. "Congratulations on the birth of your son!" he yelled over his shoulder, as he turned from Jean's reddening face and ran southwards.

 

[TheWildFerret]

11 April 1442, Ancona – Training Fields – one hour past noon

Baer trudged to the center of the field and looked towards the men that were lined around the field in anticipation. The Company infantry stood next to the hopefuls and chatting amongst themselves not trying to include any of the recruits, to the men of the Company they had not yet earned the right. Baer looked left and right surveying the field and raised in a mighty bellow, “FALL IN!”

Immediately the Free Company infantry sprung into action. Almost six hundred men sprang forward to arrange themselves into two tight fighting blocks. LeClerc’s block formed to the right of Jaeger’s from Baer’s perspective. Organized chaos ensued during this time, which is what was intended. This taught the men the instant obedience to orders that were so crucial out on the battlefield.

Baer regarded the front rank of Pikemen and nodded slightly. Over the past year the two units had suffered under Baer’s scrutiny and it showed today. The Pikes were all aligned in almost picture perfect rows. The swordsmen behind the front ranks of pike also stood ready. Swords were unsheathed and held parallel to the wielders body. Again Baer nodded slightly. He then looked to the wings and saw the crossbowmen lined up with their feet in the stirrups and windlasses ready. Baer was pleased with what he saw, the men were shaping up and it showed.

“Alright, not the best looking formation in the world, but it’ll do.”

Baer walked towards the pike formations and moved to where the new men stood to the side, unsure of where they fit into all of this. “You boys come stand out front with me.” Baer gestured and returned to the center of the field. “This is almost a proper formation. Have any of you fought in a formation?”

There were some nods and muttered yeses.

“Good, now you will learn what it means to be part of the infantry. Drop your packs over by the tree there, grab a pike and return to me.”

One man stepped forward and spoke, “Uh… Sergeant... sir… I’m a swordsman, not a pikeman.”

Baer turned on the unaware swordsman, “YOU ARE WHAT I SAY YOU ARE. ANY TWO COPPER PIECE WHORE CAN WIELD A DAMN SWORD, REAL MEN CAN WIELD ANY WEAPON THEY ARE REQUIRED TO. NOW GO PICK UP A GOD DAMN PIKE!”

The new men scrambled to comply. Baer watched them go and return. “Pitiful, next time I want you to move faster then my dear old dead grandma. Understood?”

There were some mutterings.

“I SAID UNDERSTOOD? TOOK A FEW BLOWS TO THE EARS AND I CAN’T HEAR SO GOOD”

“YES SIR”

“GOOD…” Baer moved over about twenty paces. “Form up here. Fill in 7 front rank and follow up behind.”

The men moved into the hasty formation as the burly German watched with a critical eye. He could see who moved into the block more fluidly then others and took private notes. Already two were not going to be rank and file. He saw that they were more unsure of their places and movements then normal.

“YOU TWO,” Baer pointed at the two men, “PACK YER THINGS AND LEAVE THE PIKES AT THE TREE. YOU ARE DISMISSED.”

The two men looked at the Sergeant and merely shook their heads as they moved to gather their things. The rest of the hasty formation wondered what it was that set those two apart from them and prayed they would not be pointed at next.

“ALRIGHT, FIRST OFF LET’S GO OVER A FEW THINGS. THE MAN YOU STAND NEXT TO IS YOUR BROTHER, YOU WILL LEARN WHO HE IS AND WHERE HE COMES FROM. IF YOU MAKE IT INTO THE COMPANY,” Baer looked at them scornfully, “WHICH I DOUBT, BUT IF YOU DO YOU WILL LEARN WHO EVERYONE IS. IT’S A REQUIREMENT BUT ALSO IT’S YOUR DUTY.”

There were some scoffs from a few of the recruits.

“Doubt me do you?” Baer bellowed, “HENRI FRONT AND CENTER.”

There was a break in the formation as one of the swordsman ran forward to stand before Baer. “Henri, how many men do we have in the infantry?”

Henri looked a little apprehensive towards his Sergeant, “Five hundred and eighty three sir.”

“How many of them do you know?”

Henri looked at his sergeant with a incredulous expression. The recruits sniffed slightly thinking the Sergeant’s ploy had backfired. “Well Sergeant, I know pretty much all of them and some that have gone off to open an inn or return north.”

The muttering behind Baer was silenced with a glare.

“Who is Geoffrey?”
“Geoffrey was once a Scholar and now an infantryman. He fled a bad situation, well a bad one to him and joined us before Cremona over a year ago. He can be rather annoying with his obscure references to those learned books, but that’s just the way he is.”

Baer nodded, “Fall back in Henri.”

The young man saluted and returned to his spot in the formation.

“Now you men wait here” Baer turned and returned to the center of the vast formation. Approaching him were two men. As they got closer Baer snapped a salute. “Gentlemen, your units are formed.”

LeClerc looked at Baer and nodded; he then walked to a position in front of his unit and looked them up and down nodding his head. Jaeger also nodded and walked to his unit. He too looked them up and down with a critical eye. Then the two men returned to Baer at the center and the three of them walked to the new men.

“These two men are the ones responsible for the Infantry. They are both Lieutenants within the Company and will be regarded as Sir at all times? Understood?” Baer told the new men.

Again there were muttered yeses and other comments.

“GOD DAMMIT IF YOU DON’T SOUND OFF LIKE YOU HAVE A PAIR I WILL RUN YOUR WORTHLESS CARCASSES UNTIL YOU FALL UNCONCIOUS. Now, am I UNDERSTOOD?”

“YES SIR!”

“Good… Gentlemen.” Baer nodded to the two Lieutenants.

“I am Jacques LeClerc, most of you will be going to Jaeger’s unit if you prove worthy enough, but a couple may come to me. I require one thing, you do your best and always put forth the effort to protect and help your brothers.” Jacques stepped back and turned to Erik.

“I am Erik Jaeger and most of you will report to me. I am a fair man, but if you mess up once you will be punished. I am very intolerant of people who can not follow simple orders. You fail to do so, you will be cast out. Now with that said I echo Lieutenant LeClerc’s sentiment. Try your best and protect your family.”

Erik nodded to Baer and moved off with LeClerc to one of the side pavilion tents to start assessing the unit as a whole.

“Alright, now that we got that out of the way I’ll make it much clearer for you. Lieutenants have to be nice and say things like that. It’s one of their jobs. I’m not so nice, you fail on me and I will kick you out of my infantry quicker then you can sneeze. Clear?”

“YES SIR!”

“Good, you bunch can learn.”

Baer turned from the recruits and stalked to his original place. “Sergeant Al’Aeshir!”

Another man stepped forward to speak with Baer. “Sergeant let’s take a little jog this morning. What say you?”

Amric grinned and nodded.

“Good,” Baer continued, “I’ll take the rubbish and you take the real men.” Baer allowed himself to be overheard by the new recruits.

Amric turned to the formation as Baer moved to the new men. “Alright you men, face right.” The whole formation turned to the right at Amric’s command. “ON THE DOUBLE!!! MARCH!”

The almost six hundred men began to move along at a quick march. Not a true run but faster then a quick walk. They remained in formation as they ran; they also ran fully encumbered with their armor and weapons. It was not an easy thing to do, but they learned it was necessary.

Baer moved to the new recruits. “Alright I won’t be that hard on you. Ground your armor.”

The men removed the scraps of armor they had if any and a few placed their pikes on the ground next to them.

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING? DID I SAY TO LET THAT WEAPON DOWN? I THINK NOT, LET THAT WEAPON TOUCH THE GROUND AGAIN AND I WILL CLEAN IT WITH YOUR ASS. NOW LET’S MOVE.”

The new recruits began the long and agonizing 2 hour jog around the training field.

 

[Amric]

11 April 1442 East Field, Morning

Amric was pacing back and forth. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of Oskar and Gerd, and Borroughs had left One Thumbs some time ago.

"Where the bloody hell are they?" he muttered," They had better get their tails over here. I have too many recruits and not enough vets over here."

With that he turned to Alexander," Alexander! Go find Oskar and Gerd! I want them here soonest!"

"Yes sir!"

Alexander trotted off toward the company camp, where he hoped to find them. It was closer than the tavern and he might get lucky. If they were there he would inform them that Amric was not in a good mood and they had better get to the field as soon as possible.

A man stood nearby, dejected that he had been rejected as a member of the company. He was nearly 50 years in age, and hadn't taken very good care of his weapon, which was rusted and nicked. He wasn't in bad shape, just older and not at all good with a blade. In fact he was more dangerous to himself than to anyone else. Amric walked over to him and clapped him on the back.

"Not everyone can be a member of the Free Company," He consoled the fellow.

"I know. But I had hoped that I could get into the company," the man quavered.

"Well I wish I could say that there was a chance later on," Amric sighed," But we will be leaving Ancona soon."

"I know, 'twas but a dream. My father was part of the last crusade and told such amazing stories that I always wanted to be a soldier."

"Why wait until now?" Amric queried.

"I had a job that required my full attention for most of my life."

"Oh? What might that have been?" Amric asked gently, figuring it had to have been some sort of drudgery.

"I was a baker, and a pretty good one."

Amric perked up at that news. A baker was an important commodity in any town. He began thinking furiously.

A baker? My lord, what a find! We are always looking for fighters, but how often does a windfall like him come along?

"What is your name?" Amric inquired.

"Mascari, Antonio Mascari."

"As a fighter you are not company material," Amric admitted," But there might be something else you can do."

"What?" Antonio's eyes began to shine with a new light of hope.

"Maybe, just maybe you could be a baker for the company," Amric began," I know it isn't what you wanted, but the old saw of an army marching on its stomach is still very true."

Mascari took virtually no time to consider," I'll do it! I'd still get to travel with the company and have adventures?"

"Of course," Amric said with a gentle smile," Why don't you go to the camp and find the quartermaster's office. Speak to Milo, or whomever he left in charge. Tell him or her that I said to sign you up as a company baker. Tell them Serjeant Amric sent you."

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" Antonio exclaimed with pure happiness in his voice.

The baker trotted off toward the camp with a new bounce in his step.


11 April, Training Field Afternoon

"Serjeant Baer!" Amric bellowed.

"Yes, Serjeant?"

"I think we should make them dance!" Amric laughed.

"An excellent suggestion, serjeant!" Baer exclaimed.

"All right, ladies!" Amric shouted," By the numbers!"

With that the veterans began trotting around the recruits as they marched, singing in cadence, some of them as old as the Roman Empire itself. The recruits looked horrified that the fully armed and armored men were not only TROTTING around them as they marched, but SINGING as well.

This was going to be a HARD training camp experience. VERY hard, but if they managed to make it through than they would be part of the best fighting force in the world.

 

[J. Passepartout]

"Chen, Chen, where is he..." Ali was having trouble navigating around the cowd of customers. Then he finally noticed what Captain termed 'an ugly mongolian'. "Here you are, I hear you're in charge of cavalry, or something. I'm here to sign up me and some fifty riders."

"Very well. Your name?"

"Abdul Ali." He glanced around the room. "Listen, it's a little loud here, can we move?"