Chapter 3: Ceresia

Chapter 3: Ceresia

Ceresia

On his last night in Bellandia, Lansius told his family about his decision to join young Lord Arte as his retinue. His family was mostly ecstatic. However, Mother Arryn felt the need to warn him, "Remember, we’re just village folk, and you still have a lot to learn about interacting with nobles."

“It’s not that scary, Mother. Besides, expectations are low for country folks like us,” Marc reassured. He then added, “Based on your abilities, you’ll probably work in the supply camp. The worst that could happen is joining a scouting party to count enemy soldiers, but that’s unlikely since you’d need to know how to ride a horse.”

Lansius nodded, hoping Marc’s assessment was accurate.

“You know what Connor told me?” Marc asked.

“The butcher? No, why?”

“Don’t overthink it. Learn as you go if you have to. Opportunities are rare,” Marc said, smirking proudly as he reiterated Connor’s advice when Marc was selected for training.

Mother Arryn crossed her arms and muttered, “Well, the worst that can happen is they’ll send you home.”

Marc laughed and patted Lansius’ shoulder. “I’ll lend you my rucksack and shoulder bag. Now, let’s prepare things for the journey.”

Lansius didn’t tell them that accepting the offer would spare Marc from being levied.

...

Early in the morning after breakfast, horses around the camp were saddled. Men refilled their waterskins, and clothes and other gear were packed. Everyone, including a number of camp followers, was ready to march. Mules and horse carts laden with supplies were also lined up.

Meanwhile, inside Arryn’s household.

“Wear this for the winter,” she instructed as she unloaded items from a wooden chest.

“Gratitude.” Lansius examined the woolen coat and found it to be in good condition despite its age.

“Lans, take this for good luck,” said Marc.

Lansius looked at a small iron medallion resembling a coin with intricate patterns. “Where did you get this?”

“It belonged to Father.”

Lansius furrowed his brows. “Are you sure you want to give me this?”

“Yep,” Marc said, pulling out his own medallion. “I have a better one, see?”

Lansius grinned.

“Have you packed your mittens and thick gloves?” Arryn interjected.

“Yes, I’ve packed those already.”

“Extra foot wraps for the road?” she inquired.

“Already gave him two,” Marc answered.

She nodded. “That should suffice.”

Lansius’ rucksack was now filled. Next was the shoulder bag, which he packed with packages of dried meat, hard biscuits, a small sack of flour, some raisins, and carrots.

“Here’s the waterskin. It’s old but still sturdy and not leaky,” Marc said as he handed over what was essentially his own gear to Lansius.

“Gratitude, Marc. Let me pay you for this.”

“No need, you’ve already shared enough. I can buy another one later when I need it,” said Marc.

After they finished packing, Tanya came in and hugged him. “I was about to make you a hood, Lans, but it’s not finished yet. I’m sorry I can’t give you anything.” Her voice was tinged with regret.

Lifting her, he reassured her, “Don’t worry about it. Take care of Mother and Marc for me. I’ll come home when I can.”

“Hush, you’re going to work as a retinue,” Arryn corrected him. “Obey your master and don’t ask to come home too soon; wait until you’ve done something worthy. Don’t worry about us.”

Smiling at her wise advice, Lansius felt grateful. Given the hurried nature of his departure, he had little time to dwell on his emotions. His farewell might have been more emotional and potentially awkward if he had more time.

After saying his goodbyes and sharing warm hugs with everyone, Lansius, with a heavy heart, stepped out the door. His family waved as Lansius shouldered his rucksack and began to walk toward the camp.

The sun was still far on the east and the wind was cool, Bellandia looked amazing around time like this.

As Lansius had expected, a woman in black gambeson waited not far from his house. Stefi approached Lansius and asked, “All set?”

Lansius tapped at his shoulder bag. “Hopefully, it’s enough.”

“I’ll share if you’re missing something,” Stefi reassured him. She then led him to a section of the camp where her horse was kept. It was already saddled and ready to go; a young servant stood by, waiting.

“Gratitude. Here’s a coin.”

Upon being paid, the servant darted into the crowd that was preparing to leave, apparently in search of his own master.

“What do you think of Horsie?” Stefi asked.

“She looks gentle, but I don’t know anything about horses,” he admitted.

Stefi chuckled. “Come on, take the reins, and let’s go.”

Lansius wasn’t sure. “I’ve never held horse reins before.”

“Don’t worry, she’s docile. Time to get acquainted,” Stefi said, smiling.

He gazed at her questioningly. “You’re going to train me to ride?”

“There’s no reason not to. Just don’t pull too hard. Guide her gently.”

Lansius did as he was told, and they finally hit the road. It was bustling with a column of people, knights, horse carts, pack mules, and even donkeys, all marching eastward toward their final destination: Riverstead City.

***

Elven Calendar 4422

In an era marked by rising tensions and escalating raids, Viscount Karius, the formidable Lord of Inglesia, committed the ultimate act of aggression. He crossed the Great River and launched a large-scale attack on the jewel of the Arvena province - the city of Riverstead.

Despite Lord Maurice of Arvena’s attempts to fortify the city, even sending his own son to bolster its defenses, the city of Riverstead fell prey to Karius’ surprise assault.

Lansius understood the reason. Maintaining her gear alone was costly; boots needed new soles, coats needed mending, and horses needed fodder, to name a few. It was lucky that her old master used good bridles that still worked despite years of usage.

“Well, don’t mind my ramblings. I’m already grateful that you are teaching me how to ride.”

She chuckled. “Give thanks to Horsie. She’s the one who carried you around.”

The horse neighed as if she understood.

Soon, the sun began to set in the west. The temperature dropped and people begrudgingly donned coats and blankets. Despite daily exercise or handling animals, they rarely bathed, only doing so when absolutely necessary.

Lansius too adopted this practice to some degree, finding the hassle of bathing not worth the effort. When he did wash up, he used a bucket of warm water, a clean cloth, and firewood ash as soap.

Cleanliness was appreciated but difficult to achieve, thus it was common to find cases of rashes and other skin disorders. Clothing was the only thing preventing an outbreak of body odor and putrid smells, as the many layers of fabric kept the unpleasant odors inside.

As someone with a sensitive nose, Lansius avoided unpleasant smells when possible, but his introversion made him reluctant to say anything about his group. Eventually, Stefi noticed and moved together to a group that stank less.

The new group eventually found out about Lansius’ hair. Despite his attempt to always cover it up with a hood or traveling cloak, he couldn’t hide them forever. Unlike what he had feared, nobody behaved differently. The men were interested in his foreign background, but largely unconcerned. Only then did Lansius feel truly welcomed.

The cold season seemed endless, and people passed the time with chatting, playing dice, and preparing meals. When the sun went down, the barn grew quiet except for the bubbling of the cauldron and the crackling of the fire.

Despite the monotonous routine, people did their best to entertain themselves with music, storytelling, or gossip. As a foreigner, Lansius often found himself at the center of attention, but he was cautious about revealing his origin, and only offered vague answers about his birthplace.

The monotony continued for three weeks. During this period, some of the younger soldiers improved their weapon handling skills or picked up soft skills like reading and cooking. Lansius, however, made little progress beyond the basics in his sword training.

He instead focused on learning cursive writing with a wax stylus. A balding lieutenant with an arm tattoo, believing in Lansius' potential, offered to tutor him without charge, thinking that Lansius had potential and would go places.

One day, four men arrived and gathered the captain and lieutenant from Lansius’ shelter. Rumors of an impending attack spread like wildfire. Indeed, the weather had calmed down, and the snow was only ankle-deep.

When the captains and lieutenants returned, they confirmed the rumors. “Pack your gear. We’re going out tomorrow at dawn."

The shelter sprang to life as preparations for the journey began. Like Stefi, several of the group hailed from Riverstead. Driven out in the previous season, they were eager to return home.

“It finally happened,” Stefi said to Lansius, who could only nod with a sense of uneasiness.

***

The next day dawned in Ceresia, with a drop in temperature and a fierce wind. The barn doors, which were usually closed, stood wide open, and lanterns and torches illuminated the inside. Dozens of men dressed in their winter gear were ready for departure.

Similar scenes were taking place in neighboring towns and villages. After being cooped up in their shelters for over a month, the Arvena troops were finally returning to march.

As Squire and Scribe apprentice, the young Lord assigned Stefi and Lansius to stay behind and take charge of the supplies. It wasn’t surprising. They needed someone to guard the supplies and record them.

“Hope they win,” Stefi murmured as the army received their order to march out. “Otherwise, we’ll have to defend this place with only remnants and leftovers.”

“How big is the opponent’s army?” Lansius asked.

“Interested in war, are you?” Stefi quipped.

“Not much, just trying new vocabulary,” he avoided the question, fearing that Stefi might use it as an excuse to train him harder.

“Well... hard to know. But ours should be bigger. I say two-thousand versus a few hundred?” Stefi shrugged.

Lansius found it hard to believe but he had some suspicion when he saw how many marched with him. He realized he had been mistaken in his assumption about the scale of the world he found himself in. Although he had initially believed it to be similar to medieval times, he now saw that it was more akin to an Imperial Roman, one that had thrived into the medieval era.

So, not just a Lord, but more like a Roman governor with cohorts to commands.

“Ah, so it’s likely we’ll win,” he muttered, more to himself.

Stefi shook her head. “Nothing is certain in a war. Securing the river crossing won’t be easy.”

Lansius had heard that the river between Ceresia and Riverstead was wide and had strong currents. There was only one narrow bridge which was often damaged by flood. The forces who occupied Riverstead surely understood this bridge’s importance and put efforts to defend it.

Looks like it's going to be a messy battle... Unless... if the river is frozen.

He considered the possibility that if the river was frozen, the Arvenians could split their forces, cross the river, and attempt a pincer attack. However, he realized that he knew nothing about the Lord of Arvena's personality and whether he would gamble on such a risky maneuver.

"Stefi," he called as he approached and whispered, "Is the Lord of Arvena, bold?"

Stefi furrowed her brows and met his gaze. "Lans, we're campaigning in the middle of winter. If that's not bold, then I don't know what is."

Lansius felt foolish for asking. "Oh, right, of course."

Stefi crossed her arms in a relaxed way. "What's on your mind?"

"Oh, I'm just thinking, if the river is frozen, then-"

"Then it's going to be easy win at the crossing?" Stefi guessed.

Lansius nodded. "Yeah, something like that."

"Well, you're onto something. If it's frozen then it's only a matter of sending our strongest detachment to cross and attack their camp. However," Stefi continued, "it's not that simple. The river is wide, and it rarely freezes entirely. Have you ever walked on thin ice before?"

Lansius shook his head.

"Well, you never want to cross it in armor, and definitely not with a group of armored men," Stefi cautioned.

"I see, so it's possible-"

"But dangerous," Stefi completed the sentence. "Lastly, if that's the plan then they'll need to move quickly."

"Why's that?" Lansius asked.

"The coldest time was several weeks ago. By now, the river may already be thawing," Stefi said with a sigh.

Lansius now realized that time was running out. With the weather unpredictable and the bridge likely fortified, the Arvenians needed to act fast. The fate of their campaign depended solely on their speed.

***

It's a 2 years old project and I've signed with a publisher to enter KU. Unfortunately, KU has exclusivity clause, meaning I legally have to take down all my book chapters from all platforms, including Patreon.

You can find the final, professionally edited, version of Book I in Kindle, Amazon, or Audible. The editor and I have poured hundreds of hours to edit the script. ????

Thank you, and again sorry for stubbing.

* Discord link on the footnote below *