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

[redwolf]

April 11, 1442 - Ancona – One Thumbs, evening

“Now, honestly, why aren’t you celebrating your promotion?”

For a long moment, Chen did not speak but mulled over what Cyril has just said. Finally he replied to Cyril," Thank you Cyril, I have made my decision." With that he got off his chair and started walking off. " Where are you going?" asked Cyril. "To look for Captain." came the reply.

Chen met Captain at the entrance of the tavern just as he was about to step out. Chen saluted and asked Captain," Captain, you remember the offer you made me a few days ago?"

Captain nodded. Chen asked," Does the offer still stand?" Captain nodded again as he replied," Yes Chen, my offer still stands. I guess you've made your decision?"

Chen nodded and replied," Yes Captain. I've decided to take up the promotion. I will do my best and hope I that won't fail you."

Captain smiled at Chen as he said," Don't worry so much. Just do your best. If you got any problems just look for me or any of the other officers." Chen nodded," Yes Sir. Sir if you will excuse me now, I got to see the other cavalry sergeants."

Making his way back to where the cavalry sergeants were sitted, he announced to them," Guys, I've just been officially promoted to Lieutanent."

The others congratulated him heartily though Chen noticed that Wu'tu was a little silent about the matter. He ignored the matter as he continued speaking," First thing I want to do is to confirm the list of sergeants. Wu'tu, you will continue to take your jaghun. Zhang Gao, I would like you take the moors and bedouins. Jean, you will continue to take your Europeans. Lim will take the Ming Guards. Sebutai will take the second mongol jaghun. O'Floinn, you will take most of the new recruits. Think you can handle it? Also, I would like to know if you guys have decided what to do for tomorrow's training programme? Any suggestions just throw it out and we will discuss it."

 

[unmerged(10397)]

April 11th - Evening - One Thumb's

" First thing I want to do is to confirm the list of sergeants. Wu'tu, you will continue to take your jaghun. Zhang Gao, I would like you take the moors and bedouins. Jean, you will continue to take your Europeans. Lim will take the Ming Guards. Sebutai will take the second mongol jaghun. O'Floinn, you will take most of the new recruits. Think you can handle it? Also, I would like to know if you guys have decided what to do for tomorrow's training programme? Any suggestions just throw it out and we will discuss it."

O'Floinn waited for Chen to finish before he responded.

"I'll do wha' I can wi' 'em Chen. They 'ave some skill with 'orses, bu' too many o' them still thin' i's a tournment. The first battle or two 'll probably shake the lads u' a bit. I'll do m' bes' to warm 'em up to our tactics before we're in combat."

 

[Craig Ashley]

Wu'tu sat and watched as the others congratulated the new lieutenant. Already he is reorganizing everything Shur'tu set into place. He divided up the Moors, the Europeans, and us Mongols so that they could all learn to fight together ... and so that there would be at least a few true warriors in each jaghun. Now Chen undoes alll that work and puts the new recruits, men who know nothing of the proper way to fight as horsemen, he puts them all together.

Of course he thinks nothing of this, and tomorrow he will have us racing through hoops instead of preparing for war.

Gao looked over to Wu'tu and saw the sullen look cast about his face. I will talk with him later. "Lieutenant Chen, if I make a few suggestions. I do not think it is best for us to so quickly change our jaghuns, especially when we leave for battle in a few short days. Each of the veterans knows his role in battle. He knows where he belongs in a charge formation, a false charge, feigned attack, or any of the other formations we use. He knows when to break off, and when to return. He knows his arban, and each man in it."

"Perhaps it would be best if we intergrated the new men to fill in the existing jaghuns. As to training, I believe most of our recruits are capable riders and archers, otherwise they would have been sent to the infantry by now. They must learn our tactics and formations. Remember, the chain is only as strong as its weakest link."

 

[redwolf]

April 11th - Evening - One Thumb's

After Zhang Gao had finished speaking, Chen Hui replied," I think you misunderstood me. The jaghuns are still the same with all the old verterens and new recruits put in to fill up the numbers but because we have so many new recruits, that's why I opened up a new jaghun. I also moved a couple of sergeants to new jaghuns that's all. For example, Wu'tu is commanding Shur'tu's old jaghun. Gao, I am just moving you to take over Omar's old jaghun. Jean still commands his old jaghun and Sebutai takes over Gao former jaghun. The other 2 jaghuns are mostly new recruits with a smattering of vertrens inside and they are commanded by Lim and O'Floinn. In total, the Light Cavalry now stands at 6 jaghuns of 600 men."

To make sure there's no misunderstanding, Chen switched to mongol and repeated what he said to make sure everyone understood.

He then switched back to english and continued," Also, we are leaving the following day, so there's no point teaching them tactics tomorrow cause there's no way we can teach them everything in one day. Instead during the days we are on the ships, i expect the sergeants to explain to the new recruits how the Light Cavalry works and once we hit land, we will go straight into integrating them with the verterens. As O'Floinn has noted, they are a spoilt bunch of brats and if we don't instill discipline into them first, then there's no point teaching them tactics cause they will not listen. Hence my decision tomorrow to break them in first, tactics theory while on the ships and then full training once we hit land. What do you people think?"

 

[The_Hawk]

Borroughs relieved himself and then turned to re-enter the tavern. He was surprised to see Carl and Alexander waiting for him at the door.

"Good evening, Borroughs!" Carl said merrily. "It's getting rather late; don't you think we should be heading back to camp?"

"Well, I don't know," the veteran began. "The night is young..."

"Well, not that young," Alexander rejoindered. "And you've had an awful lot to drink."

"Yes, quite a lot," Carl agreed.

"Well, I'd like a bit more."

"As well you might!" said Alexander.

"I think perhaps one more beer, and then we should be on our way, don't you think, dear Borroughs?"

"One more beer? Why, I happen to have one right here!" Alexander produced a full mug from behind his back and offered it to the man from Bristol.

"Well, I couldn't refuse that kind offer," Borroughs grinned as he reached for the tankard.

He was so eager for the alcohol that he was only dimly aware of Carl and Alexander moving to flank him. "We knew you'd see it our way," said Carl. Taking Borroughs by the arms, they led him firmly but gently into the tavern. George appeared from somewhere and tugged open the door for the trio; by the time Borroughs had gulped his drink down, they had hustled him through the common room and onto the front porch.

"Well, I think you've had enough, old boy!" said Alexander. Keeping tight their grip on their fellow Englishman, Carl and Alexander, shadowed by George Finby, led the occasionally protesting veteran toward the Company camp, half-leading and half-dragging him as they went.

 

[unmerged(14268)]

11 April 1442, Evening – South Field

While waiting for Blue Team to disappear into the woods, Remi collected his men around him. Sixty rangers, organized into twelve 5-man teams, with his veterans diluted two to each fist. And, by Landen’s orders, each team except Remi’s own was now led by one of the more promising (but still untried as a leader) recruits. It would be so easy to bypass the recruits in the chain of command, but we have to give them a chance. And if we want them to fight for the Company when the chips are down, we have to show them respect, starting now.

The quiet Frenchman outlined the plan. It was simple enough, and each of the teams understood their part the first time through. “Okay, our time is almost up. Irkut, you and Crimson Force better be on your way. If you have any questions, ask Pierce. The rest of us will be waiting.”

After seeing them off, Remi turned to Kincaid. “All set, William?”

Kincaid patted the canvas where his light crossbow was usually slung. “All set.”

“You sure you know how to use that thing?”

“I think have the gist of it. Point away and fire.” Remi fervently hoped that Kincaid was attempting humor.

 

[unmerged(9046)]

11 April 1442, Evening – South Field

The Blue Team met together before they departed. Foppy looked over his collection. He shook his head in dismay. This motley bunch was the future? He had his 60 line up and ordered them to count off in groups of five.

"One"

"Two"

"err."

"What is the problem, recruit?"

"What comes after two?"

"My God, you can't count to three? Great. You are group leader for the first five. You will be Team Alpha."

In similar fashion, Foppy broke his 60 up into 12 teams of 5. He gave them names like Alpha, Beta, Delta, etc. hoping that this easy system could be followed the the one man he came to know as "Number Three."

After a few minutes, the 12 groups were selected and each group had a leader.

The twelve teams made their way without any mishap to the field. Remi wanted to keep it simple. He quickly allocated fire zones for each to cover. Team Epsilon was assigned the task of holding the actual "hostage." Before they had left the meeting, Foppy had asked for a volunteer from the seasened soldiers for a "hostage." He had been shocked to find out that Burroughs had stepped forward. He had stated he wanted to see how these rookies interacted and worked with each other or to see if they would trip over their feet.

Each group was quietly given some instructions on some surprises to spring on the Red Team.

 

[MAlexander06]

11 April 1442, Evening, One Thumb's

Christian nudged Geoffrey.

"Did you really mean that? He reminds you of Protagoras?"

"Yes. Protagoras ended up charged with impiety. He was given the choice of burning of his book on the Gods, Peritheon, or being banished. I think my friend Burroughs will one day have to make a similar choice regarding the Free Company. If you ask me he’s his own worst enemy."

There was a pause as Burroughs was dragged through the tavern. "I can see what you mean," replied Christian,"He must be a quite a good soldier to still be in the Free Company."

There was an awkward silence, as neither knew what to say.

Christian broke the silence after a few minutes,"I have not been formally assigned to a sergeant, who could tell me where I should go?"

Geoffrey responded,"Some of the sergeants are over at the table over there, you might want to go speak with them."

 

[Amric]

11 April 1442, Late Evening- One Thumbs

"Well gentlemen," Amric rose to his feet," I think I need to be going now. Lim, I'll speak to you and the rest of the Chin tomorrow. There is a lot of work to do tomorrow and it would NOT do to have the recruits seeing me tired."

Lim nodded," I understand. I think I might speak to Chen and the others and get some preliminary thoughts worked up when we discuss things."

"Thank you," Amric bowed," Good night, all."

With that he strolled out of the tavern to a chorus of grunts from the rest of the sergeants. Since he had not been drinking spirits he was clear headed and noticed Borroughs and his 'escorts' far ahead of him.

Unwilling to overtake them and possibly alert the suspicious man of Bristol he sauntered slowly and casually down the street until they finally were out of his sight. The sight of a well armed man of the Free Company kept the dock rats and other toughs of the streets wary and unwilling to accost him.

Some of them had seen him in action some months back when a street gang had attempted to rob him. They had lived, but none of them had been happy about it. Some still walked with a wicked limp and others were still nursing injuries. Some more in spirit than anything else, but the word had gone out.

Be wary of this one. In fact it was a grand idea to just leave the Free Company men alone. It had been nearly the last time a veteran had been accosted. The one time the street gangs had screwed with the Company had not gone well for them.

Messing with veterans soldiers who worked ASTOUNDINGLY well together had not been lost on them after the fact. In fact, Captain hadn't even been involved. The sergeants had sent a few of the men to the various gang headquarters and busted a few heads and wreaked unbelievable havoc.

The message had been received, loud and clear. The authorities had turned a blind eye to it as it had calmed a lot of the violence in the town after that incident. Ancona was the base of the Free Company and the Company brought in a LOT of money and business.

Amric continued on to camp, confident that he would be unmolested. He made a brief stop at the East Field to get a last look at it and refresh in his mind the things he would do in the morning.

The recruits had little to no time to get prepared. Odds were more than stacked against the company. Not that it hadn't been before, but the better trained the recruits were, the longer they would live. It was his resposibility, along with the other sergeants to see that the men got that training.

The men may hate him and the others now. But eventually after a lengthy battle they would thank them by still being alive at the end of it. It was rare that a man came to a sergeant and thanked him for running him nearly to death in training. But inside they knew that without that conditioning and training he would likely being pushing up daisies.

It was one of the best ways of being thanked that Amric knew of, and it was worth it. Knowing he was part of forging one of the greatest fighting forces in the world, or that the world had EVER known was a task he could be proud of. Knowing that men lived and laughed, and sometimes loved because he and his fellow sergeants had worked them hard was a nice feeling.

For those who died, it was almost like a personal slap in the face. As if to say what little tidbit of help had not been given to allow that man to live for another day, or week, or still be alive today. Intellectually he knew that men would die in battle.

Hell, he'd sent many a man to his reward. But it still bothered him that a promising young man would be cut down in battle. He remembered the names of every man he had led into battle and had died. He'd been leading men for years. Longer than he had been in the Free Company, as a matter of fact.

His last command in the Falcon Company had managed to save a small remnant of the band when it all hit the chamberpot in Naples. But it reinforced his anger at bad commanders. Captain of the Free Company just might be the greatest leader of men he had ever known.

Even while serving with Draco Falcon, the Free Company had been known and respected. It was one of the reasons the Falcon Company had stayed in the Eastern part of Europe. The reputation of the Free Company had been intimidating, even to Draco. When he retired and the new Captain took over he thought he could compete with the Free Company and took the Naples job. He was not a good commander and it is what ultimately caused the Falcon Company to die.

Amric shook his head and stopped woolgathering. Dawn would be here soon enough and he had to be up and about before then. A sergeant had to bright eyed and sharp minded when training men for a life of dealing death and surviving to tell the tale.

He walked to his tent and prepared for a short rest before his next long day....

 

[Valdemar]

11th night, the woods

Nikolai stays close to the new recruit, Lazzlo, knowing how he fights in close combat, he is nonetheless an unknown entity in the woods, and he is ignorant of the old hand signals that Lochlan taught them, all those years ago.

So far he has been a tad noisy and Nikolai has taken it upon himself to move ahead as point.

City dweller no noubt. Learned his fighting in the alleys of some town, wonder how he got to be a marksman.

Not knowing exactly how the other team has deployed Nikolai has allowed him self to get a tad far ahead, but still within sight of the other veterans.

Suddenly he senses more than anything else something up ahead, and stops.

I hope the universal signals is ingrained in the recruits. He holds up a hand, palm open, behind him he hears the movements stop, then something approaches him carefully,

“What do you see?” A whispered request from Lazzlo,

“Nothing, its night.”

He can hear the smile in the other’s voice, “What do you hear, then?”

“I don’t know, could be the others, could be the enemy.

 

[unmerged(20394)]

11 April 1442, Ancona, Evening: Free Company Camp

Team Epsilon ran towards the camp, where they were supposed to meet up with Burroughs. With only half an hour until the red team began its pursuit, speed was of greater importance than stealth--especially since once they'd hustled the infantryman to the clearing, they would have to see about securing him. Eventually, they gained sight of their quarry, who was being
almost forcibly marched towards his tent.

Robert O'Glaigh gestured to the recruit who led the team, a great big Dane who called himself Peter of the North. "Okay, Peter. According to Foppy, he'll be expecting us." The Dane stepped away from the group and approached the target.

"Er, Burroughs? Are you ready?"

The drunken Englishman stopped in his tracks and whirled on Peter, nearly stumbling as he did so. "The hell? Ready for what?"

Peter cocked his head, confused. "To be kidnapped, for the--ungh!" Peter gasped as Burroughs lunged forward, driving a fist into the Dane's gut and shoving him backwards. O'Glaigh shook his head in the shadows; apparently Foppy had left out some crucial information.

Burroughs drew a dagger as he lurched toward the stunned recruit. "I'll not be kidnapped, boy! C'mon, men, let's take care of this scum!"

George and Alexander quickly stepped forward to restrain Burroughs. "Sorry, friend. We couldn't let you spill Landen's new blood. Carl, would you do the honors?"

"Gladly." Carl moved to face Burroughs, then shrugged. "Can't be helped," he said as his fist shot forward, turning Burroughs' look of incomprehension into the blank visage of unconsciousness. "All yours, scouts."

"Apparently, our hostage is to be an unwilling one," Robert said to the other Rangers. "Okay, Peter?"

The Dane nodded, then walked over and hefted Burroughs onto his shoulders. "I'm fine. I'm looking forward to guarding him. Think he'll resist?" A chorus of nods. "Good," grinned Peter. "Let's go, then. We've wasted enough time."

As they watched the Rangers disappear into the night, the three infantrymen shared a look of contentment.

"Shame we can't be there to watch," mumbled Carl.

 

[unmerged(14268)]

11 April 1442, Evening – Crimson Force

Irkut methodically moved his teams further into enemy territory, repeating the mantras Landen and Remi had poured into his ears. We have the initiative. We may not have the numbers, but the defender does not know our plans. We can concentrate at the place and time of our own choosing. Do not tip your hand too early or the enemy will have time to read our intentions and react accordingly. Irkut gave the signal. Two of his four teams watched and listened while the other two snuck forward to hiding places half a shortbow shot away. There they stopped and watched and listened. Satisfied that they hadn’t run into Blue Team pickets, they signaled an All Clear back to Irkut, who then waved his two teams forward.

Of course, I’m the poor schmuck who they put in charge of “Crimson Force.” I’ve never commanded men before. Why me? Irkut glanced over at Pierce. The veteran read the uncertainty in his face and gave him a thumbs up. The simple gesture of approval was exactly what the green scout needed. Crimson Force. Why couldn’t they pick a less melodramatic name?

The twenty Red Team members methodically made their way southeast, directly towards The Clearing.

***

Kampfgruppe Remi

Remi was starting to sweat. The plan was for his force to cross the stream and hopefully reach the southern road by the time Irkut started his part of the plan. But how do I sneak 40 men through enemy lines without detection? Maybe they have already spotted us and are just giving us rope with which to hang ourselves. Having trained in these woods (and just about everywhere else around Ancona), the veterans knew the area like the back of their hands. Believing Blue Team wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave the bridges unguarded, Remi directing his men almost due east towards the most easily fordable portion of the stream. He also made a mental note for Landen that the rangers wouldn’t always be this familiar with the terrain when they went into action.

Finally, the gurgling stream came into view. The rangers automatically spread out and found concealed positions, but the darkness that was aiding their infiltration was also helping their enemy. Not surprisingly, no one could spot any hostiles on the opposite bank. The time was getting on, so Remi made the signal for one team to cross the stream. The point team warily entered the knee high water and made their way across as fast as they dared.

 

[unmerged(14268)]

11 April 1442, Evening – East Woods, Crimson Force

Pierce’s heart leapt into his throat. He had almost stumbled right into a Blue Team picket. The boy was well hidden, but not very alert.

In fact, the boy had been tired out by the day of drilling. He tried to suppress a yawn but failed. He turned his head towards his team leader to see if there was something going on, hopefully something that would keep him awake.

Pierce followed the look. Gotcha. Both of you. He twirled a finger at Irkut, but the half-Mongol, half-Italian was already on top of it. At his command, two teams moved to flank while two other kept their weapons trained on their prey.

By the time the Blue Team spotted the movement, it was too late. The sepulchral silence of the night was broken by a booming Highland war cry, led by Pierce himself. The cry, shouted from the tops of hills to signal the charge of hundreds of bloodthirsty Scotsmen, had chilled the blood of Englishmen for generations. Sprung on them at point-blank range, the Blue Team members might well have been made of stone. Twenty missiles flew into the formation from three sides.

Sharp cries of pain joined the other sounds of the night as many of the Blue Team members got “tagged.” But somehow one man – a Free Company veteran by the name of Marcantonio - managed to avoid being hit. He laid low for a few seconds. Did the rest of my team get tagged? There must be a couple dozen men out there, and I can’t take them on by myself. I have to get back to base and notify the rest of the team. He jumped to his feet and ran as if his life depended on it, hoping that surprise, speed, and constantly changing course would prevent him from being hit as well. Several arrows and bolts reached out for him, but his fortune held. But he knew not to press Lady Luck and kept running all the way to The Clearing.

Irkut raised his hand to signal a cease fire. The plan, so far, was working perfectly. He gave the men a thumbs up of his own and then signal the start of the next part of the plan. After reloading their weapons, Crimson Force started to feel its way ahead once more. The enemy would be sure to respond to this attack, and they would be ready.

 

[unmerged(20394)]

11 April 1442, Evening: East Woods

Laszlo crept through the woods, leading Team Beta toward the creek. Well, somewhat leading. He'd stepped on a dry branch several minutes in, earning disapproving glares from the rest of the group. Nikolai had then taken point, and Laszlo had since redoubled his efforts at stealth. A fantastic leader you are, to forge the way with such competence! Laszlo sighed quietly, and pressed on. He'd been badly shaken by the encounter in the alleyway, and struggled to calm himself.

His team was one of five scouting to the west of the clearing. Spread out along a loose perimeter, their goal was to spot the enemy, but not to engage unless forced. Runners would be sent back to the rest of the forces, led by Foppy, who would send out reinforcements. Hopefully the scouts could fall back and draw Red Team into an ambush. Laszlo had taken his own team southwest, looking for any of the enemy who would try to ford the stream.

Ahead, Nikolai stopped, and gestured for the rest of the team to follow suit. Laszlo paused, then silently strode forward. "What do you see?"

"Nothing, it's night."

Laszlo repressed a chuckle; what weak moonlight there was failed to penetrate the canopy of the woods, so of course he couldn't see much of anything. "What do you hear, then?"

"I don't know...could be the others, could be the enemy."

Laszlo frowned, straining to hear. The quiet babble of the creek could be made out, but little else. It didn't make much sense for another part of the Blue Team to be so close by. Laszlo advanced a few feet further, indicating that Nikolai should wait. If I'm to gain their confidence, I've got to prove that I'm capable. Time to throw the dice... Vague motion...the stream? Further in...more of the stream came into view. Laszlo paused, and listened again. Another noise...a faint splashing...then...contact! A man, crossbow held over his head, wading across...another...more...

Good God! At least twenty...no, more!

Laszlo faded back toward the rest of his group as quickly as he dared, hoping no misstep alerted the enemy, praying the sound of the water would muffle any sounds he made. He nearly stumbled into Nikolai and the other three, who had crouched low.

"More than twenty, fording the stream. Hans," Laszlo breathed, and pointed at one of the other recruits. "Return to Foppy. We need reinforcements, quick." Hans nodded, and snuck back toward the clearing. "We four will whittle them down as best we're able. Spread out, but try to keep track of everyone. Shoot, fall back. Do not engage closely." Nikolai and the other two nodded. "Good luck."

Laszlo watched the other three rangers as they moved several paces away and readied themselves. Perfectly still, he scanned the trees for movement. There--a crossbowman. Too easy, thought Laszlo as he aimed, loosed, and hit his target in the chest. The man cried out, and the rest of his team shot at men who'd reacted to the cry with either too much movement or noise. An arrow whizzed by Laszlo's shoulder; he'd stayed too long. Laszlo turned and dashed northeast, hoping his team's luck would hold until Hans could return...

 

[unmerged(14268)]

11 April 1442, Evening – East Woods, Kampfgruppe Remi

With the first team halfway across, Remi motioned for more to follow them. Half his force waded into the cool waters while the other half watched over them like grim faced guardian angels, ready to shoot at the first sign of movement.

Then all hell broke loose. One man received a bolt in the chest and his cry penetrated the night. In less than a second, a barrage of missiles converged on the unseen sniper, but this only attracted return fire. Remi tried to signal to his sub-commanders, but many had gone to ground, becoming preoccupied with the ambush than keeping in contact. Damn it.

The ambush stopped as soon as it began, and as Red Team’s fire became more sporadic, Remi reestablished contact with his team leaders. Only four ambushers? Must be only one team. Well, they bought themselves some time. He order the four teams already across to form a perimeter while the rest crossed. Then, with everyone together on the east bank, he gave out new orders.

“We have to get as far away from here as possible. Olivier, your team and mine will play rear-guard while the rest lose the Blue Team. Everyone understand?” He received a chorus of nods in response. Remi gave the Go Ahead signal. Six teams headed off to the southeast at a brisk, but relatively silent, walk while the other two spread out in an east-west line to cover them.

Kincaid, being in Remi’s team, was one of the lucky rear guards. He found a position behind a tree and waited.

 

[Valdemar]

11th the woods, night

Nikolai fired one bolt and watched with satisfaction as it hit one of the other veterans in the gut, sending him whimpering to the ground. He had never been an excellent shot, but at this distance he couldn’t miss.

Moments later half a dozen bolts seemed to converge on him and he ducked back into the woods allowing it to swallow him up once more. The deep shadows hid the small group as the four remaining members converged on the next spot where they would wait for both the opposing teams and the reinforcement.

Behind them they could hear first the shouts of the enemy, then the sudden silence as the commanders brought the new recruits under control, and then finally the low noise of the opponents wading across the stream and getting in position.

Nikolai looked at Lazzlo and got a nod, slowly the older Rus filtered into the woods again, moving to circumvent the likely route of the invaders. Behind he could hear the rest of the group slowly doing the same, the other veteran moving silently close to Lazzlo, to avoid any noisy incidents.

Slowly the small quartet moved through the night dark wood sensing more than seeing the bulk of the opposing force moving past them on the their flank.

Finally the sounds abated and there was no signs of anybody left. Nikolai caught the attention of Lazzlo and raised the question and with an approving nod from the temporary commander Nikolai led them off again, towards the creek and the rear of the enemy formations.

 

[unmerged(9046)]

Back at BT1 (Blue Team HQ), Foppy was getting the first intel in from the runners. It seemed his men had drawn first blood with the early contacts. He was proud of his men as they had taken down several Red scum for little cost.

Foppy felt that the next probe would not be in the same area. He sent forward two squads to both the right and left of this first contact point in order to find the enemy. He ordered his men to advance and make contact with the enemy. He also readied more men as a reserve to react....

 

[unmerged(14268)]

11 April 1442, Evening – East Woods, Kampfgruppe Remi

After putting some distance between themselves and the point of contact, the 30 men that Remi had sent ahead slowed down to their usual pace, not much faster than a energetic baby could crawl, but as silent as a tomb.

***

Kincaid closed his eyes momentarily to listen. Not that the scene in front of his eyes was very distracting (with the scant moonlight filtered through the treetops, there wasn’t much light with which to see in the first place), but he seemed to listen better that why. Their footsteps are gone, and... nothing except rustling leaves. I hope we didn’t lose them. Where did the Blue Team run off to? Opening his eyes, he looked to Remi for orders.

The Frenchman motioned with his hand. Moving defense. First my team, then the other team. Go! Kincaid and his team moved off towards the southeast, following the path of the others. After thirty paces, they stopped and found positions in a line facing north towards the last known position of the enemy. Remi gave the second Go signal, and Olivier’s team moved to and through them to take up position to cover Remi’s team’s next move as they were doing for them now.

Except so intent were they on the threat to the north, they stumbled into Blue Beta for the second time that night. Alerted by the sound of fighting behind him, Kincaid turned and saw one of Olivier’s teammates get tagged. The unfortunate scout raised his arms to signal that he was out of the drill.

No time to cry over spilt milk. Kincaid trained his sites on the source of the shot. Must be a recruit. Lesson #1: Never fall in love with a hiding place because they are never perfect. A moment later, Kincaid’s target also had his hands up. By then, Kincaid was long gone.

***

Crimson Force

Irkut crawled over to Pierce. “Think this is good enough?”

Pierce looked around for landmarks but found none. Crimson Force was now fairly deep into the forest, and it all looked the same. However, he wagered that they were close enough to The Clearing to be heard. He gave Irkut a nod.

A while later...

Blue Iota was traveling parallel to the road north of clearing, hoping to outflank or at least find the men who had eliminated Blue Eta, when they stillness of night was shattered. Crossbows firing. Cries of pain. Steel on steel. “That’s coming from Theta’s direction. Let’s go!” The five men left the road and moved towards the sounds.

And right into Crimson Force’s ambush. Irkut let the Blue Team members get close enough that he could have hit them with a bread roll before he released Crimson Force’s weapons. Two quick volleys later, five men had their hands up or were rubbing bruises.

Irkut, plainly pleased with the things were going, gave the signal for Mikhail to stop his ruse. The five man team, which had faked the fight that had drawn Blue Iota to their fate like moths to a flame, picked themselves off the ground and started to dust themselves off.

Which is when Blue Theta made their presence known. Hearing the same sham fight, they had also come to investigate. After inadvertently slipping behind Crimson Force, they could plainly hear the sounds but couldn’t see the source. Instantly on their guard, they waited patiently for the enemy to make its mistake. So when Mikhail’s team revealed themselves right in front of them, they cut them down with ruthless efficiency.

“Oh, s-“ Pierce swallowed the rest. He looked at Irkut to see how he would react. After a moment of hesitation, the recruit gave a simple order: attack. The remaining men worked their way back towards Mikhail’s position, dodging from cover to cover, taking potshots at Blue Theta.

Pierce took a shot at a fleeting target and narrowed missed getting hit himself. How much more noise can we make? Come on, Foppy, take the bait. Chase us.

 

[unmerged(9046)]

The situation was very tense back at BT1. Foppy was getting reports that made no sense. He had lost several of his teams but believed that he had taken down more enemy then he ahd lost friendlies.

The runners reported that the men had found the enemy running. Foppy was about to order a full charge when he suddenly his himself over the head with his hand. This exercise was not about killing the enemy. this exercise was about protecting his prisoner.

Foppy sent out runners to try and pull back.

He wondered if it was too late...

 

[stnylan]

April 11 - Evening - One Thumb's

"Oh, and leave the wineskin."

Jan made a competent half-bow, before turning and walking back to the bar himself. It was done. Ever since they had escaped Cosimo's dungeon's he had felt like he was walking on a knife-edge whenever he saw Maria - it was one reason that he had, for the most part, avoided her. His nerves were not up to it. But when he had seen her being accosted by that ... butcher / baker / candle-stick maker, or whatever the hell he was supposed to be ... he didn't quite to know, but it seemed somehow improper that she should be subjected to such indignities by those who simply had no understanding.

At the bar he purchased himself another wineskin, and headed out into the night, and back to the camp. He tried to forget that it was dark, and walked hurridely. No, the fool simply would not understand, having lived his cushy little Italian life, only caring about the ordinary harships.

Back at his tent Jan carefully checked that there was sufficient oil in his small lamp to last the night. Then he lay onto his bed, the wineskin in one hand. He took a drink. And lay there, waiting for oblivion.