Chapter 86: Testing the Waters

Chapter 86: Testing the Waters

Testing the Waters

Korimor Castle

Inside the stone-walled chamber of Korimor Castle, a place that had witnessed countless strife, regime changes, and treachery, Lord Lansius sat alone facing a stone table. A silver platter glistened in the midday sun streaming through the narrow windows. Despite the food situation, the staff had done their best to provide a savory menu for their new Lord.

Carla stood guard. In Margo’s absence, she had become the de facto food and wine tester. Living with the staff of a former opponent involved many risks.

Today marked the second day since Lansius’ arrival in Korimor. Yesterday, he had met with envoys, which had resulted in a public flogging. He disliked the punishment but understood its necessity.

His opponent, Sergio, was cunning and adept at scheming. Yesterday, he proved that he could force Lansius to react. Yet, that did not overly concern him. In war, cold calculation was paramount, and Lansius still felt he had the upper hand.

He carefully read the missive just delivered to him. It was from Omin, outlining his contingency plans against a siege. From this letter, Lansius learned a great deal. He had to admit that the man was a capable administrator.

Misguided, but capable.

However, he still harbored reservations about employing Omin. He felt the need for consultations with other Lords in his alliance and his top retainers like Sir Justin.

Putting those thoughts aside, he shifted his attention to another report concerning grain rationing and the new militia. Sir Michael had been invaluable in assessing the storage conditions and providing estimates, which helped Lansius greatly in understanding his real inventory.

The knight also reported on the condition of the grain and storage. The risk of mold was ever-present, and preventative measures were as important as rationing.

Time passed. Lansius yawned and stretched, feeling a deep ache in his bones from the exhausting marathon riding and nights spent sleeping rough. His buttocks and hips were still raw from the journey.

For days his only bed had been layers of rugs laid out in the open air. This harsh arrangement had led to a persistent shortness of breath, as well as a mild cough and a sore throat.

Reflecting on it, the journey had been extraordinarily spartan. After departing from Korelia, they had spent several nights as guests in the yurts of nomadic tribesmen they encountered. Eventually, they rendezvoused with Sir Harold and Batu after days of traversing the northern corridor.

Batu was already prepared with his warriors and celebrated Lansius’ arrival with a grand feast. However, beyond that point, there were no villages or yurts where they could seek shelter. Often this meant sleeping wherever they could find a water source, following eight- to ten-hour rides with frequent horse changes.

The journey was excruciating. The only thing that gave Lansius solace was Audrey’s resilience. As the more experienced traveler, she stepped in to care for him when he was at his lowest—prone to rants and easily irritated by everything around him.

Lansius glanced at Carla. “Tell me, do you still feel pain from riding?”

“Just a bit, My Lord,” replied the squire.

“Ah, you’re a tough one,” Lansius complimented.

“Not at all, My Lord. The Baroness is even tougher. She resumed sword training this morning.”

Lansius shook his head in disbelief.

Watching him, Carla continued, “It’s as if the Lady is pushing herself.”

“Pushing herself?”

“Indeed, My Lord. It seems she truly wishes to live up to your expectations.”

“My expectations...? Tell me, Carla, what are my expectations of her?”

Carla pressed her lips tightly together.

“Why do you hesitate?” Lansius asked, approaching the squire, who wore an embarrassed expression.

“It seems I’ve spoken too much, My Lord.”

Lansius chuckled and moved to a red-cushioned daybed in the corner. No longer concerned about the staff gossip, he started to relish the bliss of ignorance. He had barely taken a deep breath when the door burst open.

Audrey entered, gulping from a water skin, clad in training armor she had found in the castle armory.

“My Lady,” Carla greeted.

Audrey waved her off and turned to Lansius. “I heard you’ve changed the plan?”

“Yes, I have a better understanding of the Nicopolan mindset. Our initial assumptions won’t work,” he explained, gesturing for her to sit beside him.

Audrey moved closer but remained standing. Lansius grabbed the water skin from her hand and drank slowly. The water burned, a sign that he needed more rest and some honey.

“How’s training?” he asked.

“Good. So, what’s the new plan? I also heard you made some changes to the militia?”

“No, I’ve just removed the carpenters from the militia. I need to form a separate command for them. I’ve placed them under Sir Michael.”

“Mm, it seems you’ve given our friend from White Lake a lot of responsibilities.”

“He’s capable.”

“Wish I could be of use.”

Lansius was surprised by the notion and gazed at her, expecting a pout. However, Audrey simply looked back at him with furrowed brows. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.

To alleviate the awkwardness, Lansius coughed and then noticed something. “Drey, why are you still standing?” He motioned for her to sit next to him once again.

“I just trained,” she replied, dismissing him.

“So, we often sit together after training?”

“It’s not as airy in here, and I don’t want to trouble you with the smell.”

“It can’t be that bad,” he argued.

“I also took care of the horses this morning, so I probably smell more than you think,” she stated firmly.

Lansius chuckled. “I thought you hated me or something.”

“Why would you say something like that?” she blurted out.

“How many Nicopolans? Are all of them on the field?” Audrey asked.

“They say it’s several thousand, but not all.”

No chance to hit their camp...

“Well, I better check, just in case,” Lansius said, rising to his feet. Audrey and their entourage followed him.

Lansius reached the battlements surrounding the city. Unlike in Korelia, he could see lush woodlands surrounding the hills before a sudden clearing some tens of meters from the wall. He glanced out, noticing the Nicopolan formation had advanced closer to the gate.

Hugo, who was also on the battlement, approached Lord Lansius. “My Lord, it seems we’re under attack.”

“Indeed. This Tarracan man is more than capable of sending people to their graves,” Lansius replied, and then added, “Can I trust you with defense?”

“Certainly, My Lord. I believe you don’t want me to chase?”

“Yes. Let’s not risk it. In time, Batu’s scouts will notice and take action,” he instructed.

Hugo quickly departed. Lansius glanced at the city’s interior. He saw hundreds of carpenters working and militias resting after training. Some looked up at him, and a crowd gathered below.

“I wonder what they think of me,” he mused to Audrey.

“A savior, if you can get them out of this situation,” she responded.

“And if I can’t?”

She took a deep breath and rested her waist on the wall. “I’d rather not entertain such thoughts.”

Lansius chuckled at her frank answer. Truthfully, the situation was worryingly bad. While they could stay safe inside the walled city, that would only free the Nicopolans to harvest the field. His troops were also significantly smaller in number compared to the enemy, and unlike in the last battle, he lacked any advantage in crossbow numbers.

Furthermore, the wind in Korimor, as expected, was inconsistent, and with the Nicopolans camped close to the farmland, it was too risky to use fire.

Footsteps were heard from the staircase and soon a knight with a black eye patch ascended to the battlement. “My Lord, My Lady,” he greeted.

“Sir Michael, you don’t need to respond to the enemy’s aggression. Please, continue your work," Lansius urged.

“I understand, but I’m here to give a report.”

“Ah, then let’s hear it,” Lansius said, his mood brightening.

“The preparation is halfway complete. We’re using some of the completed parts to train the militia.”

“Well done." Lansius nodded. "What about the supporting equipment?”

“The tools are ready. We’ve gathered enough sharp implements from the populace.”

Lansius drew a deep breath, mulling it over, before suddenly announcing, “No changes then, we're on schedule.”

***

Nicopolan Side

The Nicopolans under Sergio fought hard against the fortified camp outside the city gate. Crossbow duels opened the battle before it switched into a melee.

The attackers’ large numbers were countered by wooden fences and a staunch, stubborn defense.

Crossbowmen on top of the walls played a major part in turning the tide against the Nicopolans. Whenever the Nicopolans focused their attack, the crossbowmen would fire to disperse them, forcing them to take cover behind their shields.

The duel of crossbows continued, but due to the height advantage, it was a one-sided affair in favor of the defenders.

Attacking a well-fortified site was challenging, and the Nicopolans’ daring attack achieved little. When their scouts alerted them of the approaching nomadic cavalry, they retreated.

Sergio allowed the Nicopolans to retreat disorderly. He needed to bait Lansius’ forces into chasing them. His entire strategy was to provoke a response and then fake a retreat to his camp, where he had hidden crossbowmen and his best men-at-arms.

It was a trap designed for the Korelians and their nomadic allies. However, the enemy’s smaller force didn’t take the bait.

The nomadic cavalry also halted their chase as soon as they noticed crossbowmen in the distance. Some became unlucky victims, but most escaped with their lives.

The Nicopolans sustained casualties from this skirmish without achieving anything. The trap had failed, and Sergio led his men back to lick their wounds. Anticipating their shaky morale, he climbed onto a cart that formed part of their camp’s makeshift wall. “Why do you look like this?” he addressed the returning troops. “This is not even a setback. This is all according to plan.”

His claim attracted the attention of the men who stopped to listen.

“Don’t you dare take this as a loss. This is exactly what we planned for. There’s no surefire way to win a war; otherwise, sieges would be over in a day,” he said, glossing over the day’s failure.

Sergio continued, “Believe me when I say we still outnumber them and are stronger than their combined might. Right now, the Lord of Korelia is trapped in Korimor. I bet he’s busy trying to pack up and run.”

His joke triggered laughter and mockery from the crowd.

“The more pressure we apply, the more likely he’ll vacate the city and the castle. Soon, everything will be ours—warm bread, soup, and shelter. Now, do you have the courage to endure?”

His men nodded and cheered.

“I ask again, do you have the courage to endure? There will be more challenges tomorrow and the day after,” he warned them.

His men roared in agreement.

With just a single speech, Sergio effectively pacified his men. They would rest that night and try again to provoke the enemy the next day, better prepared for the challenge ahead.

Sergio returned to his tent feeling genuinely excited about the challenge. Although he was generally short-tempered, he approached military matters with a cool head. To him, a strong defense was like a tough nut to crack. Today, he had observed several vulnerabilities in the Korelians’ defense, particularly their reliance on reinforcements from the Nomads.

It was something he could exploit and abuse.

He and the Nicopolans hadn't arrived here without struggle. They had experienced their own battles and challenges and had cracked tough defenses. That was why so many of these eight thousand people were loyal to him.

Sergio had seen enough of how the new Lord operated his defenses. Enough to identify the nomadic cavalry as Lord Lansius' sole crutch, and tomorrow, he would cripple them.

***