Chapter 87: Veiled in Flames

Chapter 87: Veiled in Flames

Veiled in Flames

The guardsmen rotated shifts as the night watch ended. Dawn had arrived, and the golden light breaking through the darkness marked the third day since Lord Lansius had set foot in the fields of Korimor.

The Lord refused to sleep in the castle and chose instead to spend the night in a humble cabin just outside the gates. He wanted to keep his troops' morale high and reassure the people of Korimor that they were not completely under siege.

Inside the cabin, the Lord and Lady sat on a carpet on the floor, meditating. Despite not gaining anything from the experience, they felt it was worth another try. After half an hour, they decided it was enough for the day.

Lansius munched on the breakfast Carla had brought them. After Carla had left, he asked, "So, did you feel anything?"

Audrey looked at her palm and shook her head. "I feel nothing has changed. Should I feel anything?"

Lansius chuckled. "You tell me. I've never been acquainted with a mage... No, wait. Technically, we know Hannei."

She shrugged. "But she hardly ever reveals anything about magic."

"Well, at least we're not tiring ourselves out," he quipped.

She found it funny and later commented, "I guess I really do need a mentor."

Lansius whispered, "Are you thinking of accepting Sir Morton's advice?"

"Only if you feel that's the best course of action," Audrey replied.

Lansius nodded. "Let's discuss this when we have the time. Right now, we're stuck here."

Audrey nodded in agreement.

"But you should probably continue to do it," he suggested.

She furrowed her brows and asked, "Why? Is it beneficial?"

"Well, I read somewhere that it builds mental strength."

"Mental strength..." she mused, "Does it make me smarter?"

"Wiser," he corrected her.

"I'll do it, but only if you accompany me," she said, flashing a grin.

Lansius chuckled, acknowledging that meditation was easier said than done.

...

The two finished breakfast and went out to inspect the fences. The captains and lieutenants recounted the details of the battles. Even without their explanations, Lansius knew they had been hard-fought. There were numerous wounded and even some fatalities.

In the absence of Calub, Sir Michael was the one who kept records of the fallen and the wounded on their side. It was always necessary to record and compensate for bravery and sacrifice.

Lansius visited his men's camp and was pleasantly surprised by their wholehearted welcome with big grins and jokes. Despite all the hardships and losses they had endured, the men remained optimistic.

Somehow, his troops had mastered mechanisms to cope with the violent nature of their business.

He was so impressed that he readily agreed when Audrey suggested ordering a keg of pale beer to be brought from the castle's supply as a reward. The camp came alive with loud cheering.

Lansius then continued with his schedule for the day. He was inspecting militia training with objects made by the carpenters when the trumpets rang again.

The men readily donned their armor and prepared their weapons. Meanwhile, Lansius and Audrey headed to the battlements, followed by their entourage. There he met Hugo, who had been observing the situation.

"My Lord," Hugo greeted.

"How many?" Lansius asked.

"Almost the same, probably half of their numbers; some three to four thousand." There was concern in his voice.

Lansius shared the same concern and asked, "Do you need to take the levied men?"

"I'll take more of Korimor's guards for today. They're better trained."

Lansius nodded. Both understood that deploying the militia in high-risk battles would only result in senseless casualties. They would only consider such a move when their main combatants were at risk of exhaustion.

The rate of casualties and wounded was a significant concern for Lansius. Setting aside morale, he knew that his small force could not win a battle of attrition unless he retreated behind the city walls. However, doing so would cost him his strategic foothold and limit his ability to execute his plans.

Under no circumstances could Lansius afford to have his gate blocked.

"Look, they're coming," said Audrey from his side.

Lansius squinted his eyes and saw the formations marching their way.

"If there isn't anything, I bid my leave," said Hugo.

"I'll send for Sir Harold, Dietrich, and their men to assist you," Lansius promised.

"Gratitude, My Lord." The deputy left to assume command for the upcoming battle.

But the black smoke formed like small clouds, slowly rising to the sky. It wasn't billowing as it would if a wooden building were engulfed in fire. Batu shouted and signaled for his cavalry to slow down. He needed time to observe further.

Before all of his riders could react to his command, lines of men appeared out of nowhere from the tall grass, brandishing long spears and charging at them. Crossbowmen were also present and bolts started to fly.

A rider in front shouted, "It's a trap!" Batu quickly added, "Avoid, do not engage!"

His riders began to fall. Batu saw how the hiding Nicopolans had used dry leaves, grass, and dirt to prevent the sun's reflection from their iron helmets and armor.

The nomads, in disarray, tried to fight back, leading to archery duels between the crossbowmen and the horseback archers.

The Nicopolans were ready with shields, while the nomads' horses—mostly without barding—were getting wounded left and right.

"Get them out, get them out!" Batu commanded his brethren. Some tribes were stubborn and hard to control; he and his tribes ended up galloping toward the separated groups to dissuade them from attacking further.

Bolts whizzed past Batu, narrowly missing him and his horse. Despite the imminent danger, he chose to be bold, racing against time as hundreds of enemies converged on their position.

He needed to pull his riders out; otherwise, everything would collapse.

***

Nicopolans Encampment

Sergio was hailed as a victor after the Nicopolans successfully trapped and crippled the enemy's cavalry. Although the skirmish failed to breach the enemy's defenses, the victory over the nomadic cavalry was seen as a significant breakthrough. Consequently, the threat of the enemy's horsemen was now greatly diminished.

They also recovered a dozen dead horses and butchered them for meat. Seizing the opportunity to galvanize support, Sergio distributed the roasted meat to everyone.

While meat from a dozen horses could hardly feed eight thousand people, and a large portion was cleverly allocated to Sergio's most loyal supporters, this act of generosity further emboldened his reputation.

The Tarracan Man's reputation now eclipsed even that of the Black Lord of Korelia. Even survivors of the Siege of Korelia began to support Sergio earnestly.

The Nicopolans ate heartily that day, sensing that victory was near. They believed the Lord of Korelia would soon pack up his belongings and leave the city for them to conquer at their leisure.

With the harvest at hand and a secure place for wintering, they had little to worry about this year.

For the first time in a while, many slept without worries in their dilapidated tents.

...

It was around the third watch, at midnight, when an eerie rumbling and hundreds of dots of light emanated from a distance. The Nicopolans awoke in a panic, scrambling to grab their weapons and don their armor in the dark. Slowly, they attempted to form lines around their camp as their superiors shouted commands.

As the Nicopolans scrambled to defend their encampment, the distant torchlight continued its rhythmic dance, growing larger and more menacing.

Sergio was finally awakened in his command tent and was angered by this unexpected development.

"Lights, hundreds of them," a scout reported immediately upon arriving, breathless from the east side.

Quickly donning his armor, Sergio headed out. Flanked by his men, he noticed the distant but approaching murmur of hooves against the earth.

"The nomadic riders again?" Sergio seriously doubted this could be the case. His trap had killed at least two dozen riders, which should have deterred them for good. It was well-known that the nomadic tribes lacked discipline and were even less committed to battle than mercenaries.

However, there was no denying the sound of hooves and the speed of the incoming riders.

"Cavalry!" shouted a captain, breathless and panicked as he spotted Sergio. "They've emerged from the darkness and are circling us—thousands of them!"

Sergio ignored the panicked captain and instructed his trusted lieutenant, "Wake the entire camp as orderly as you can." Then, turning to his other lieutenants who commanded the reserves, he added, "Don't get baited. Stay at the flanks. They'll want chaos, but let's give them a wall of pikes instead."

"Yes, Commander," they replied and dispersed to their separate commands.

Sergio looked up at the sky and found it was full of stars—a good night for a night attack. He climbed atop a carriage he used as a platform and looked beyond the perimeter of his encampment.

He saw hundreds of reddish-orange torches piercing through the fabric of the night. The radiant, fiery dots moved in one direction, slicing through the darkness as they danced. The sound, the sight, and the rumbling that could be felt were otherworldly.

Feeling nervous about the size of the enemy force, Sergio made sure that his crossbowmen and pike-wielding infantry were ready behind the armed refugees.

"Hold your ground, and we'll win this," he rallied his men.

And thus, despite the confusion and fearfulness from the great spectacle before them, the men grew confident. The Nicopolans stood in line and maintained a large, almost circular formation. In a contest of wills, they stared down the thousands of riders who seemed ready to bear their fangs at them at any moment.

...

Meanwhile, on the opposing side:

"Sir, the nomads have encircled the Nicopolans," reported the lieutenant in charge.

Sir Michael climbed up the mound and confirmed the situation with his own eye. "Get the long torches out!" he commanded, and his men immediately obeyed. They had been toiling since sundown, working in near darkness except for the light from crudely-made, one-sided lanterns with large covers.

This was the moment the thousand men—carpenters and militia alike—had been waiting for. With the nomads drawing the Nicopolans' attention, horse-drawn carts were now racing from the city gates to drop off their precious cargo. Time was running out; the nomads and their long torches would hold attention for only an hour, if not less.

With a steady stream of carts and the added illumination from the torches and lanterns, they worked quickly and diligently to finish the construction. Although it had only just begun to take shape, everyone present understood that they had reversed the flow of the entire conflict.

***