Reclaiming

[Sir Karsimir]

First step was a detour.

Avoiding the village itself was a deliberate choice, to bring them to Alger's hill without incident. Between their preparations of the morning and time spent marching, the hour of their approach to the hill went beyond noon. Once at the hilltop, he gave the order to stop.

"Attention! We need room for ourselves, our tents, our horses, the wagon, and a campfire. We need room to move freely inside when the combat begins. Our main entrance will be the side the hill is steepest, because that is where any main attack will come." Karsimir wanted his warriors to gain as much advantage from the high ground as possible. "Triarius, you know field camps. Can you calculate how much room is needed?"

"Yes sir. We have a system for marching camps. If I have your leave to use it?"

"The interior, yes. I will make adjustments to the outside. Those of you who had meals latest in the day, with him on the fortifications."

Ten began the work, the ten who had the latest breakfasts. The rest began with their lunch or took positions guarding, so very few needed to remove their armour or otherwise make themselves vulnerable at any one time. Krarug and Blargen excelled in this arena, each able to continuously tear great heaps of turf from the ground without needing to rest or remove their armour. Darir did well too, seeming to suffer no fatigue from the hard labour while armoured either.

What was seeming to be produced was a stacked turf wall. Apparently Triarius and Metellus were taking care not to reduce the earth to mere soil in the construction. Any soil was used as supporting infill. They clearly knew what they were doing.

"Julen, is Alger a friend of yours? I believe I owe him the courtesy of speaking with him if using his land for this. Will you take me there?" Then another plan to discuss. "The fortifications will take most of the day to complete. What say you to beginning our strikes at the next dawn when the mercenaries are still sluggish?"

-----

Before long, Habern came forth. What stood out about him when he first joined was his sheer enthusiasm for a set of ideals, although at the time the sense of unfettered passion had caused Karsimir to carefully explain the need for sticking to plans. While there was not the impression of disobedience, Karsimir felt that he needed orders in place to avoid acting on impulse. "There is a hedge attackers can use for cover. We should burn it sir."

Hatton was the one to protest. "The farmer took months to grow that. We came to defend the village, not to start razing the farmer's property."

Undeterred, Habern persisted. "We need a clear shot of the area around us. The enemy can hide behind the hedge as they approach. We need to destroy it."

On a personal level, Karsimir agreed with Hatton's point that this would be razing part of Alger's land. What he also knew was that the turf from the fortifications could easily be used to replace the hedge with a new barrier once they were done, and the hedge presented a potential danger to his armsmen.

More relevently, Karsimir liked that hedge; he felt sure the enemy attack would come from behind it, which gave him some control over the coming conflict. "I am thinking of using it to our advantage. That hedge is the best source of cover an attacker will have. The hedge will draw them to that position. We can set the area behind it with defensive stakes, add lines of mantraps and caltrops."

Still, the matter was not yet decided. "Julen, you have a say in this. You are the one who knows the most about farms, and the value of that hedge to the owner."

[Julen]

Since Julen had eaten a relatively early breakfast, he chose a spot where he wouldn’t be in the way of any fortification construction and settled down on the grass to enjoy his lunch. From the hilltop, he could see Alger’s farmhouse far below, surrounded by sheep pens and vegetable gardens. Ocasionally, he also glimpsed a human figure moving about -- probably Alger, or one of his several sons, wondering what the heck those crazy mercenaries were up to now. But Julen’s mind wasn’t really on people. He was thinking about sheep. Specifically, he was remembering his first visit to Alger’s farm, when he was just a small boy. Alger’s eldest son had dared him to climb the fence circling one of those pens. Julen had made it to the top, but then lost his balance and tumbled in amidst the sheep. Although they posed no true threat, they’d seemed frightening anyway, like fluffy white behemoths. Now, that boy was grown. And, viewed from up here, the sheep were barely more than specks.

For some reason, Julen thought of the heroes in his mother’s stories. They defeated monsters, won kingdoms, married princesses. But almost none of them ever went home again.

After finishing his lunch, Julen helped build the turf wall until Karsimir expressed a desire to speak with him. “Yes,” Julen confirmed, setting aside a large clot of dirt in order to focus on Karsimir’s first query. “Alger was a friend of my father’s. After my father’s death, he helped me make the transition to running my farm alone. I agree that we owe him an explanation.”

Julen also agreed with Karsimir’s proposal that they postpone any aggressive action until the next morning. It made good tactical sense, as well as addressing a concern which Julen had raised earlier. “I think that’s wise. We’ll fight better once we’ve rested. Also, the delay will give more time for the news of our intent to spread amongst the farmers, so they can avoid getting caught up in the skirmishes.”

Brushing his hands against his pants in order to clean them, Julen was about to suggest that they go speak with Alger right away. However, at that moment, Habern arrived with the announcement of a new enemy. A hedge. Truthfully, Julen hadn’t even really noticed the row of bushes, and it amazed him to learn that such a simple thing could have such strategic significance. Further proof that there was more to this warrior business than stabbing people with pointy bits of metal. Always eager to expand his knowledge, Julen became so absorbed in the debate between his comrades that he was actually slightly startled when Karsimir solicited his opinion.

Julen stared at the hedge. In retrospect, he realized that he hadn’t taken any special notice of it because it was so familiar to him. He remembered hunting for sparrow nests amidst its tightly pressed branches. “It’s good to be concerned about minimizing our impact on the land. However, that hedge is a relic. Once, during the time of Alger’s grandfather, it stretched all along the border between this meadow and the next. Then blight killed most of it. And, since Alger’s father married the neighbor’s daughter, exact property lines stopped being so important. You may displace some birds and rabbits if you burn it, but that’s all.”

Curious, Julen waited to see what Karsimir would decide.

[Sir Karsimir]

Relic was a word which Karsimir took very seriously. Instead of an outdated, obselete possession of no further consequence, the word meant to him an item of meaning and significance, a miniature monument to some kind of worthy to remember and emulate in future generations. Obviously, none of this applied to the hedge, but the word drew his attention rather sharply nontheless.

"Alger sounds like a worthy man. I look forward to meeting him." The kindness of neighbours was something which always earned his approval, a sign of the society he strived for. "I pray no news of our plans is spreading. Information is critical. For the farmers to spread word risks the mercenaries learning of our plans, and if that happens before the Guard is here we risk hostages being taken." Even more to the warrior business than hitting people with sharp objects.

"On that subject, everyone at base try to stay discreet. When the enemy learns of us, I don't want them learning we have pikemen or cavalry, or our numbers. Deny them the chance to make full preparations."

Another word stood out to Sir Karsimir: birds. Who would have nests in that hedge, with chicks in. Suddenly, preserving that hedge was of far more importance to him. Although the hedge stopped being so important as a boundry between farms, it was still very important to the birds. Since efforts were already being made to keep the battle away from the homes of locals, it seemed only fair to extend that same courtesy to the feathered locals as well.

"We keep the hedge." announced Karsimir. "When I get back, I will be removing any bird nests we find and bring them away from danger. Attackers will damage the hedge on the way through anyway. We prepare a fraise. A row of sharpened stakes in the ground, with all the points faced forward. We have that hidden by the hedgerow, enemies will throw themselves on the stakes trying to force their way through."

Most of that was accepted easily enough. Though Gaelm asked. "You are going to move all the bird nests?"

Completely naturally, Karsimir replied. "Yes." Then he answered puzzled or amused looks. "When you see birds fight a demon for your sake, you become more mindful of little courtesies towards them like not destroying their homes with eggs and children inside."

Put that way, Gaelm was not going to argue. He simply accepted it. "Right."

With that settled, Karsimir turned to Julen. "Shall we go meet Alger?"

[Julen]

Julen blinked at Karsimir, utterly confused. Perhaps he hadn’t managed to make himself clear when he mentioned news of their intent spreading amongst the farmers? Or perhaps he’d misunderstood Karsimir’s earlier instructions? By now, Julen no longer hesitated to ask for clarification. “I thought you wanted me to speak with the community leaders? So they could tell everyone what’s going on? But now, you say that you don’t want news of our plans spreading. Have you changed your mind? Or will I be telling the community leaders something other than the truth?” Julen would do it, if Karsimir asked him to, but the idea of lying to people he’d been raised to respect didn’t sit well with him.

Karsimir’s announcement about moving the nests received a variety of reactions. Thetta gave a discreet roll of her eyes and muttered something which sounded suspiciously like “Now he’s courting the birdies.” But she didn’t make any official protest. After all, her shield did carry the image of a raven. Unlike his sister, Sigvard simply nodded sagely, as if every commander he’d ever served had cleared the battlefield of its avian residents. He was a man who believed in omens and rituals -- if Karsimir thought that removing the nests would bring them better luck in the upcoming fight, Sigvard wasn’t going to argue.

As a whole, the Lightswords accepted Karsimir’s desire to reward birds for the aid given him during his struggle against the demon. They themselves felt grateful to anything which had helped preserve the life of their commander. Also, the lengths that Karsimir went to for the welfare of birds surely reflected the lengths he would go to for the welfare of his own men.

With the question of the hedge settled, Julen nodded his assent to Karsimir’s suggestion that they visit Alger. “I think it would be best if we went alone. Alger can get a little...testy...around strangers.”

Leaving the others to continue working on the fortifications, Julen and Karsimir started down the hillside. They were still a fair distance from the farmhouse itself when a tall man approached them. A few streaks of grey ran through his dark hair, but other than that, he appeared largely untouched by age -- a fact which could be explained by the sharp facial features and pointed ears that betrayed his elfin heritage. As the two men approached him, he fixed them with a stern stare.

“I suppose you’ve come to help yourself to my sheep, eh? Well, I’ll tell you the same thing I told those other fellows who fancied a taste of mutton, and none of you can say I didn’t warn you. The whole flock is cursed. I put a spell on them, and anyone who eats their flesh will wish they hadn’t. First, your throat will start to burn, and no amount of water or wine will ease it. Then, you’ll vomit until your bile turns green. And after that--”

Alarmed by the direction the conversation seemed to be taking, Julen intervened. “Alger, it’s alright. We’re not mercenaries.”

“Eh?” The sharp green eyes now focused on Julen. “How do you know my name?”

“It’s me.” Julen pulled off his helmet, allowing his unruly brown curls to spill free. “Julen.”

“Julen?” Alger took a step forward and squinted at Julen, although Julen knew full well that the elf had no difficulty seeing him. “Heavens, boy! It is you. Why are you dressed up like one of those thugs? Do you want to make your father writhe in his grave?”

“No sir.” For a moment, Julen felt like a small boy again, trying to explain what he was doing in one of Alger’s sheep pens. “I was just...that is, I didn’t mean...” Sucking in a deep breath, Julen managed to regain some semblance of adult bearing. “I’ve joined a band of warriors. But not mercenaries -- we’re here to fight the mercenaries.”

Alger didn’t look particularly impressed by that news. Desperately struggling against the urge to squirm, Julen attempted to direct the elf’s attention elsewhere. “Alger, this is Sir Karsimir Von Greyssen, my friend and commander. Karsimir, this is Alger of Shim.”

“Eh.” Alger extended a hand for Karsimir to shake, although his expression remained far from welcoming. “I suppose you’re going to tell me what you’re doing mucking around on the top of my hill?”

[Sir Karsimir]

Back on the way down, Karsimir answered Julen's query as best he may. "Good point. I apologise. What I mean is that I do not want them being told before we are ready. When we act I will need you as our spokesman for the elders." Hopefully that supplied a reasonable explanation. "Unless there is an angle I have not considered this from." A possibility he was thoroughly open to, inviting his retinue to speak rather than seeing any challenge.

Meeting Alger was a surprise for Karsimir, having never met an elf before. True, there were elves in Marn but he never really had any contact with one of them, House Anstrun and the refugee compound were hardly representative of the city as a whole. All his experience with elves was from bardic tales, in which the elves were invariably princesses or witches. Alger was neither a princess nor a witch. Coming face to face with a gruff elf farmer was as far from his image of an elf as could be.

On meeting Alger, Karsimir shook his hand readily and solidly, with the strong grip of a warrior. Not enough to hurt him, but his strength was obvious. "Greetings Herr Alger. I hear you helped Julen adjust to running his farm alone, a pleasure to meet you. And yes, I am, we came to give you an explanation." Then made the decision to begin with background, having previously fought against the mercenaries might earn him some degree of trust from the old elf. "Do you know of the skimish roughly a week ago? After which we brought Rosemary as well as Orin and his family to the safety of the city? That event acted as a rallying cry for those brave warriors opposed to the abuses being performed by the mercenaries."

Background sorted, he went on to the direct explanation. "We need high ground to prepare a safe camp for a base to work from. Using lower ground would place my men's lives at greater risk, and reduce our chances of helping your village. These may appear extensive preparations, my goal is to avoid any peril to the villagers in the process of removing the brigands, and these measures may assist in that. We will take all care to avoid there being disruption to your lands once we are gone." At no point did Karsimir ask permission, because frankly he was not sure if Alger's refusal would convince him to accept a weaker position for the camp that would place his men's lives at risk. Currently he was leaning towards no.

While making the effort to show due courtesy, hearing Julen described as being 'dressed like one of those thugs' did raise a matter which Karsimir did not wish to leave unaddressed. "Julen is dressed in armour to protect him, and wears my colours so we are more easily known for our deeds." The choice of words was in essence a polite disagreement towards Alger's description of how his men-at-arms were dressed. "Thusfar, he has fought and won against army deserters who used their swords for selfish cruelty, and was instrumental in bringing down a large band of thieves and slavers, as well as the rescue of many of their victims." Saying this out loud felt good, he remembered how Julen had reacted to the tale of Karsimir's past, and now the yeoman had similar successes of his own to his name.

[Julen]

Alger returned Karsimir’s handshake in the same manner as it had been given -- firmly, but with no intent to crush flesh. However, when Karsimir began to speak, the frown returned to Alger’s face. Julen couldn’t imagine what Karsimir had said which might have given offense so quickly. Then Alger responded, and it became clear that it wasn’t what Karsimir had said, it was how he had said it. Specifically, with a noticeable accent.

“You’re not from around here, are you? Eh?”

“Karsimir hails from lands west of Thar Shaddin. A place called the Kreuzreich.”

“Never heard of it.” Still, Alger’s frown lessened, and it seemed possible that the next words he spoke were intended as a jest. Maybe. “It must be quite the paradise if you needed to come all the way to Shim to find trouble.”

Julen opened his mouth, but before he could explain that Karsimir was in Marn visiting relatives, Alger had already pressed onward. “Yes, I’m familiar with tales of that skirmish against the mercenaries.” For a moment, Alger’s eyes left Karsimir, and focused on Julen. “To hear Howel tell it -- and believe me, we’ve all heard him tell it, over and over -- you grabbed his daughter afterwards and ran away like a dog with your tail between your legs. Completely abandoning him to his fate.”

Under his breath, Julen muttered a few choice words about his father-in-law. None of which Alger appeared to disagree with.

Then, Alger returned his attention to Karsimir, listening patiently as Karsimir described the mercenary situation. When Karsimir mentioned Julen’s accomplishments, Julen couldn’t help puffing up a little with pride. But Alger showed no reaction at all. Instead, he kept staring at Karsimir, even after Karsimir had finished speaking. The silence had almost started to get creepy before Alger finally broke it.

“I’ve seen men like you before. The universe flows through most of us in straight lines, guiding us along our paths, connecting us to all things. But around you, the lines curve and distort. Some say that men like you are actually bending the universe. Others say that the universe is bending you. Either way, I know what it means. Great deeds lie ahead of you.”

Alger shook his head. “And here’s the funny thing about men like you. When other people get too close, their lines start to bend as well. They get tangled up in your destiny.” Sadness passed across Alger’s expression as his gaze flicked to Julen. “You can dress him up in the best armor smiths ever made. But he’ll never be safe when he’s around you. Never.”

Then, as if the subject had never been broached, Alger shrugged. “Well, I can’t say that I’ll be sad to have those thugs driven off. So do whatever you wish to my hill. And since mucking about up there must thirsty work, I’ll tell my boys to bring your men buckets of fresh water. Is there anything else?”

[Sir Karsimir]

During the long silence, Karsimir had simply shifted his posture to the 'at-ease' position learned in the military. Resting back on his heels, with his right hand clasping his left wrist in front of him. This was a stance used by soldiers waiting long periods comfortably. It worked.

When Alger finished his observation, the knight flinched, unable to truly argue. One of the traits he most respected from the Imperial military was acknowledging having no excuse when the factors did not change accountability for one's actions. In this case, this was true. So now his posture straightened sharply from ingrained habit, as though he were answering to a higher officer.

"My thanks, Herr Alger." Karsimir began. "We will inform you of any developments you may need to know of." With that, he bowed and prepared to leave. Once he turned back, he gazed upwards to the sky before making his way up the hill, still troubled by what had been said.

Part way back towards the field camp, he spoke up. "Julen, I have clearly not thought through sharing information with the villagers. I am unsure of the balance between informing them and hiding our moves from the mercenaries. I will need to know what you think we should do. Do we stay quiet for now? Or do we tell them to lie low for the while but not tell them our plans? What do you think?" Part of him was aware that a commander admitting his plans were flawed could weaken the morale of the men, but he also trusted Julen deeply, and was against keeping secrets from his retinue.

"And Alger was not wrong, with what he said. Whatever precautions I take, this is still a very dangerous lifestyle. You have seen more combat at my side than many soldiers see in their first year. Do you give much thought to that?" Using the privacy of the open country, this was a matter he gravely wished to discuss, to be sure he was leading him towards the right place, rather than just the grave.

[Julen]

Karsimir’s request for advice didn’t weaken Julen’s morale. It just seemed like a logical thing to do, since Julen would be the person most able to give an accurate assessment of his fellow villagers. And, because Julen didn’t want to let his friend down, he gave the question careful consideration before replying. Part of him wanted to assure Karsimir that the people of Shim could be trusted with their plans. But no matter how sensible a population might generally be, there were always exceptions. Alger’s mention of Howel had reminded Julen of that. Julen didn’t truly believe that his father-in-law would divulge secrets to the mercenaries just to spite him...and yet, there was always a chance.

“I think it might be best if we kept the information vague. Tell them that we’re here to help, and that they should stay inside as much as possible for the next few days, but nothing more. I don’t think anyone would deliberately betray us to our enemies. However, if the mercenaries discovered that the villagers knew specific details, they might try to...extract the information. That would go against our goal of protecting innocents. This way, we let the villagers know enough to keep safe, while telling them nothing that the mercenaries can’t see or guess for themselves.”

The next question Karsimir asked didn’t entirely surprise Julen. He could tell that his friend had been disturbed by Alger’s pronouncement. Again, Julen fell silent for a few moments, as he searched his feelings for a true reply.

“I won’t pretend that I understood exactly what I was getting into when I entered your employ,” Julen confessed. He remembered standing in his room behind the bakery, wearing a patched and ill-fitting gambeson, fascinated by the sight of Karsimir’s sword. It all seemed like years ago. “There are things I never expected. Things I still struggle with.”

“I do think about the danger. Seeing so many men die tends to drive home one’s own sense of mortality. But while I was seeing that, I was also seeing so much else. I was seeing bullies steal from my neighbors and try to take advantage of my wife. I was seeing women beaten and virtually enslaved. I was seeing the faces of the people who started out as my comrades and quickly became my true friends.”

They were a good way up the hill by now. Pausing, Julen glanced back -- out over Alger’s farmhouse, towards the rest of the village. This was his home. The place he loved more than any other. And a month ago, there would have been little he could do to defend it. Now, because of his training as a warrior, he could help stand against the people who wished to exploit Shim. It was a good feeling.

“Alger is right. I’m not safe while I stand at your side. But I guess I’ve come to realize that there are things in this world more important than being safe.”

Julen turned back toward Karsimir, a smile on his face. “Besides, I believe the men you lead are safer than they would be under any other commander. And I know that there’s no other friend I’d rather have protecting my back.”

[Sir Karsimir]

Exactly the kind of reaction which Karsimir was hoping for. On both counts. First of all, that his indecision on this matter did not lesson Julen's faith in his leadership, instead being met with careful consideration and cool judgement. "We'll do that then, giving no details we can avoid. We will do that early evening." Hopefully that would keep people out of the bloodshed, and not give their opponents enough warning to take hostages and force them into the bloodshed.

Secondly, that Julen was content with his decision to be a warrior with full awareness of the risks, having lived those risks for himself. That the life which Karsimir could offer - the life of fealty, military service and danger - was what Julen truly wanted. "Good, and thank you. I wanted to be sure this was right for you, and not your being swept up in my quest. Once Shim is safe again, I want to complete your three month training and reform the Lightswords into a sergeantry corps." One of Karsimir's plans he had hinted towards, even mentioned in passing, but never explained in detail.

Seeing as they were more or less back at the camp, Karsimir's mind returned to preparations and fortifications, and he was not given to idle time. They could talk during their labour. "I will bring some hatchets to cut around the bird nests." Upon which he entered the compound at a jog to fetch the tools and then exited at the same speed, handing one to Julen and beginning the work.

As he begun the search for nests, there was one question he just thought of. "Where are we going to keep the nests once we remove them?" Inside the camp would expose them to danger, and if he was relocating chicks he would want to see them fed. On that note, he bowed his head in prayer.

Amaranda, may there be a safe refuge for your children.

Then he got to work.

"We can go seek the elders once the nests are safe. The fraise and traps can be set up while we are away. I also want to meet Brighella the jeweller, Soubrette asked me to look after him."

[Julen]

“Sergeantry corps?” Julen’s knowledge of military terms might be far from extensive, but he was always willing to learn. “What will that entail?”

However, Karsimir had already started toward the compound, and Julen’s question dropped into the empty air behind him. Earlier in their friendship, Julen might have felt a little snubbed. But he’d come to understand Karsimir’s distaste for remaining idle. So Julen simply waited, with a slight smile gracing his lips, until Karsimir returned and handed him a hatchet. He knew he’d get his answer. As soon as they were doing something productive.

Fortunately, the height of the breeding season had already passed, so most of the nests they found were abandoned. As Julen searched the hedge for telltale clumps of twigs and dead grass, he tried to decide upon some safe refuge for the few chicks they did remove. A small trio of trees stood far enough away to remain undisturbed during the upcoming battles. But would the parent birds find their offspring in that new location? And if not, who would care for the chicks? Of course, Julen could offer his farm, but it was some distance from here, and he had no way of knowing if the mercenaries might have moved in during his absence.

Searching for inspiration, Julen glanced over at Karsimir, who was carefully removing his second nest. The baby birds seemed remarkably calm, staring up at Amaranda’s knight with wide and trusting eyes. But apparently that faith didn’t apply to just any human. Julen was still nursing a sore finger after being pecked by a particularly feisty chick.

Karsimir’s next comment momentarily put a stop to Julen’s thoughts concerning birds. Not the part about seeking the elders -- that made perfect sense. But Soubrette’s request regarding Brighella startled Julen. She seemed like such a city girl. How did she know someone in Shim, much less care about them enough to ask Karsimir for this particular favor? Dredging his memory, Julen tried to pull up the few facts he knew about Shim’s jeweler. The man had a reputation for being a bit unscrupulous in his dealings, which perhaps explained why his standard of living was higher than the one enjoyed by most villagers, but nobody accused him of being a true criminal. He was married. And he had a daughter, about Julen’s age. What was her name? As much as Julen strained to capture it, it kept slipping through the web of his net. She tended to keep to herself, so he’d barely seen her, except once. Once, when he’d glanced up and caught the briefest glimpse of her pulling herself over the edge of a rooftop. A short encounter, but strange enough to be a memorable one. And then, barely a year after that, she’d vanished into thin air.

Was it possible...? Surely not. And even if it was, what did it change? Nothing. Still, the mention of Soubrette allowed Julen to broach a subject he’d wanted to speak about. “What do you make of Soubrette?” Julen was a trained warrior, preparing for a very serious battle. So he managed to make his question sound slightly more mature that its schoolboy equivalent: Do you like her? Huh? Huh? Do you?

[Sir Karsimir]

Julen's question was not forgotten. The moment things were getting done Karsimir found an answer. "Concentration of force. A knight's role on the battlefield is as heavy cavalry, to shatter the enemy with shock charges, with a secondary function as powerful foot troops. A sergeantry corps supports this by adding trained, armoured soldiers to a charge or position. If serving under a captain or general, I will be denied the choice of command over so mixed a unit."

Those button eyes were adorable, it tugged his heart to watch them. He wanted to hold them, although his experience of falconry had covered how fragile chicks could be. From his further knowledge of birds, he knews these would eat mostly bugs, supplemented by grains and berries and fruits. Bugs were in short supply, and difficult for a man to hunt at any rate. Grains and fruits however, he had brought with him. Delving into his own meals, he began slicing up a pear into tiny, managable strips for the chicks, something even a casual observer would note was a labour of love. Then he added some grain for variety.

It was a struggle not to get carried away with feeding the chicks. They were beautiful, and looked on Karsimir with perfect trust and affection, holding the nest in his hands sent his mind to the concept of fatherhood. There was something very appealing in being needed that way, in being able to provide and nurture a living thing. He had already known that from dealing with horses and falcons, but tiny robins gazing up at him in wonder drove that point home.

Now the question of Soubrette. A question he had avoided asking of himself while away. "I find her intriguing. I doubt it will lead to anything more. So soon after Mavelle would be bad for me, and would honestly be doing Soubrette a disservice." While speaking Karsimir kept his eyes on the hedge, then looked towards Julen and shrugged. A hint of something else he felt unsure of.

"I am thinking we speak with the elders before finding Brighella, if we need to conceal a fight with the mercenaries we would have an easier time after dark. How many do you suggest we bring with us? I do not wish to draw undue attention."

[Julen]

“Ah.” Karsimir’s elaboration on the role of a sergeantry corps earned several grateful nods from Julen. “I see. That makes -- hey! Come back here.”

The chick which had previously pecked Julen seemed determined to continue its resistance. Having flopped out of its nest, it was now stumbling through the grass toward an unknown destination. Gently, Julen scooped it up, and placed it back with its siblings. Then he returned his attention to Karsimir. But by that time, the Angelsworn had begun slicing a pear into tiny pieces.

With a mixture of admiration and amusement, Julen watched as Karsimir fed the baby birds. What would the mercenaries say if they could see their fiercest foe engaged in such an activity? Doubtlessly, it would be unflattering. And it would be wrong. The kindness which Karsimir displayed toward the chicks in no way negated his ability to slaughter enemies on a battlefield. More than speeches or sermons, moments like this were what gave Julen hope -- hope that he could see the things he saw, and do the things he did, without becoming someone he didn’t want to become.

“I enjoy her company,” Julen agreed, when talk returned to Soubrette. “She has a quick mind, along with a good sense of humor. And she certainly proved her courage during our stand against Panterras. But, as you say, it hasn’t been long since you broke things off with Mavelle.” In Julen’s opinion, there were other, more glaring, reasons why pursuing a relationship with Soubrette could prove unwise. While she hadn’t turned out to be an assassin, she was still a conwoman. There were aspects to her morality which might be easier to overlook in a working relationship than they would be in a romantic one. However, since Karsimir already appeared disinclined to take things in that direction, Julen didn’t feel any need to voice further objections.

Karsimir’s plan to speak with the elders before seeking out Brighella sounded good to Julen. But it was hard to decide how many warriors they should take with them. Too few would leave them vulnerable if they were challenged by the mercenaries, but too many would be bound to attract unwanted attention. “A total of five,” Julen suggested. “And none of the more...distinctive...Lightswords.” By which he meant none of the unusual nonhumans. “I doubt that so few will arouse much notice.”

Further discussion of their plans was interrupted by the arrival of young man carrying a bucket. “There you are, Jules. They said you were down here playing nursemaid to a bunch of birds, but I had to see it for myself.”

“Hello Jaye.” Julen greeted his childhood friend with a smile, before performing the necessary introductions. “Jaye, this is my commander, Karsimir. Karsimir, this Alger’s eldest son, Jaye.”

“Glad to meet you, Karsimir.” Jaye set his bucket down next to the knight. As Alger had promised, it was full of water, with a ladle provided to aid in drinking. “My brothers brought buckets to your men, but they refused to touch a drop before their leader had any.” Cupping his hands to his mouth, Jaye turned back toward the top of the hill and hollered “Alright! He’s got his now!”

No reply followed his announcement. But then, the sounds of slurping probably wouldn’t be loud enough to carry that far.

“Well,” Julen began, waiting for his turn with the water. “I hope the mercenaries haven’t been giving your family too much trouble?”

“Nah. We’ve been lucky. Dad’s got them convinced he’s some sort of elf witch, so they mostly leave us alone. I...” Jaye trailed off and pointed over toward Julen. “I think one of your charges is making a break for freedom.”

“What?” Glancing at the nests, Julen released a moan of frustration. Once again, the feisty chick had gotten loose, and made it even further away this time. Patiently, Julen returned it to its home. “We need a cage for you, my little friend.”

As the words left Julen’s lips, inspiration struck. “Buckets. Once the water is gone, we can put the nests in the buckets. That will keep the chicks from escaping. Jaye and his brothers can carry them back to Alger’s farm. Alger has nursed enough orphaned animals to give them the proper care.”

“Oh yeah, Dad’s going to love that.” Jaye sounded sarcastic. But he didn’t refuse.

[Sir Karsimir]

"That's one way for them to check if the water is cursed. Good to meet you Jaye, how do you do?." He bowed his head, but his arms were full with cradling a nest so he was not able to shake hands at present. As for the men, their gesture was sweet, but a bad habit he would want to avoid. Shows of ceremony were all well and good, but denying oneself water was the kind of habit best discouraged. "I will need to stop them from doing that. Julen, drink first, I'll watch over the nests for now." A small smile creased his face, since he realised how those statements would sound together.

Recently Karsimir had resolved to be much more careful with his footing, due to the uncooperative hatchling. Given that this was the area he was planning to saturate with mantraps and caltrops, cautious footfalls seemed a reasonable practice to take up early.

Once the birdy was yet again returned to it's nest, Karsimir offered it a hand gloved in canvas to hop up on. It did, as did another. Considering how to convince the bird to stay put, he realised that the same trait in a human would infuriate him, while from this bird he found it endearing. "Good idea, Julen. And thank you Jaye. Should you be willing to care for the nests I would be very grateful." Considering that Herr Alger cared for orphaned animals in the past both spoke well of him and suggested he would not truly mind such an endeavor. As a matter of fact, providing him with an opportunity to be a curmudgeon might even be a service. "We could also keep the nests in the camp for now, I expect the parents will be back before long, and we can move their houses with them watching so they know what is going on." So far, he was undecided, and was happy with either solution so long as the birds were safe and away from the combat.

After some hint of assurance that the escapist chick was willing to stay put, Karsimir took his turn to drink, still with a wary eye on the nests.

"So you know, Jaye, very soon our preparations will include a perimeter. Should you or your family need us, make sure to approach from the front and shout for us to guide you inside. This is important." Then he briefly glanced towards the partial fortifications with a grin. "And we will be sure to put the ground back where we found it on our way out."

Considering it rude to start discussing military decisions in front of Jaye - a conversation which would exclude the young man - he let the matter wait for now, although his mind was still on the task ahead... He felt Sigvard and Thetta would be the best to bring, as they were among their best at individual combat, while the pikemen were best in tight supporting formations and the cavalry were best at mobile high-impact attacks he knew these two had more direct fighting ability when tactical options were limited. So did Hatton and Krarug of course, although neither was suitable for acting discreetly... "May we do anything for you or your family?" Karsimir asked, unable to think of a better question at the moment.

[Julen]

Since Karsimir had instructed him to go first, Julen raised a ladleful of water to his lips, already anticipating its sweet flavor. Even the water tasted better in Shim. Maybe it couldn’t be instantly summoned by the twist of a faucet, as he’d so often seen in Marn. But it also didn’t taste like it had been pumped through endless pipes by the huffing and puffing of gnomish machines. After satiating his thirst, Julen released a soft sigh of contentment.

As Jaye watched the fledglings perched on Karsimir’s hand, he shook his head, clearly impressed. “You sure have a way with animals. It’s a shame that you never got a chance to become a farmer.” Clearly, in Jaye’s opinion, people only tried other occupations after they’d been denied the honor of living off pasture and field.

“I think some of the chick’s parents are already starting to return,” Julen observed. An adult male sparrow had alighted on the hedge nearby and was giving him a look which could hardly be described as friendly. “Listen,” Julen attempted to explain, meeting its tiny black eyes with his own. “I’m a friend of Amaranda’s too. So, no attacking me, okay?”

The sparrow, however, looked distinctly unimpressed. Releasing a sharp chirp, it hopped restlessly through the foliage.

Jaye listened carefully to Karsimir’s warning about the perimeter. “Thanks for letting us know. And don’t worry too much about the ground. A good aerating is good for the soil. Dad would never say it, but you’re actually doing us a favor.”

“As for my family, I appreciate the offer, but we’re holding up alright. Really, the best way you could help is to drive off those damned mercenaries. And I can see you’re already working hard toward that end.” Then, perhaps sensing Karsimir’s effort to make conversation, Jaye offered a topic of his own. “Hey, has Jules ever told you about the time we saved up our chore money and bought gnomish fireworks? Or the time that I convinced him it was good luck to kiss slugs? Oh, and then there was the time we put ants in my sister’s--”

Already fighting off a blush, Julen hastened to cut off his friend’s reminiscences. “Thank you, Jaye. But Karsimir still credits me with some modicum of good judgment. I’d like to keep it that way.”

Grinning, Jaye replied with a good-natured shrug. But he let the subject drop.

Soon, they were joined by three more young men, each of whom bore a striking resemblance to Alger. Having finished his inspection of the hedge, Julen helped load the nests into their empty buckets. Then, followed by a small, mixed flock of parent birds, Alger’s four sons headed back toward the farmhouse.

[Sir Karsimir]

Karsimir had lived off pasture and field before. Granted he'd never had to work on them but he had lived off them nontheless. Instead, he enjoyed the pleasure of working with animals as a page and a squire, and felt an old wound begin healing in the company of avains. Parent birds watched the boys bring their young down the hill and he watched fondly.

A long, quiet smile later, he snapped out of it. "Right. Sigvard, Thetta and Hatton are probably our best individual fighters. I doubt Hatton will like hiding our intent, but I trust he'll accept the need." On that note, he got to gathering the sharpened stakes for a fraise, then sought out Guilerme, who would do the best job of concealing the barrier of spikes.

"Warriors!" Gaining the attention of the group. "A caring gesture, but no one go thirsty on my account. Sigvard, Thetta, Hatton, I want you to come with me and Julen to find the village elders. Guilerme, you'll do the best job of disguising the fraise."

"Right sir!" answered Guilerme, saluting and then immediately getting to work.

"Horses?" Hatton asked.

Karsimir shook his head. "No. Cavalry will draw attention. I want us to pass by without incident."

"Avoid the fight?" asked Hatton again.

"Until we are rested and ready for battle. Yes."

After a long moment, Hatton nodded. "Few of the mercenaries will be as well-armoured as we are. You are in plate armour, my lord."

"Unknown new soldiers wont be a great concern, I imagine, we bring horses with us and we may look too much like we're planning to fight very soon." Karsimir explained, collecting his helmet. "Ready?" Once everyone was... "Move out."

With that, they began their own journey down the hill and into the village itself. What he found was a grisly scene. Bodies were found piled up in charred heaps on the ground, and the gear was taken, leaving little sign if they were mercenary or villager. The buildings were left intact, however, suggesting the absence of destruction that would normally accompany a village massacre.

On that note, Karsimir unslung his polearm and began searching in more earnest, hurrying for signs of life. What he saw were instead signs of death. In particular slaughtered bodies of mercenaries who still had their weapons and armour. Those weapons were on the ground beside them, some bloodstained, either from use or being in the presence of a shower of gore. They had fought. They had died. Bodies torn asunder.

"The villagers alone could not do this. Any ideas?"