Chapter 107

The Hands of Wraith

 

With South Hill's Vanguard routed and their cavalry captured, the battle for South Hill was largely over. The remaining men under Lord Gunther's command, having fought in vain against much larger forces, finally offered a truce when facing near annihilation.

Servius, the column's commanding officer, accepted their truce, recognizing that further bloodshed would be pointless. Their victory was now certain, with South Hill's men no longer desiring battle.

The surviving South Hill troops formed a defensive circle around their Lord's armored carriage, agreeing to lay down their spears and crossbows, but keeping their swords. They stood guard, pale and weary, awaiting the arrival of the true victor of this battle. The flicker of hope had vanished from their eyes.

Approaching from the east, Lord Lansius walked toward the Nicopolan column. His arrival was grand, flanked by his entourage and thousands of men, their armor and weapons shimmering in the sunlight.

Eager anticipation filled the air as everyone awaited the battle's conclusion.

Carla, his squire, guided Lansius' destrier. He could have easily ridden but chose to cover the distance on foot, savoring the moment. The euphoric looks on his men's faces were as unforgettable to him as they were to them. Although it was against his nature to be in the spotlight, he knew it was good for their morale.

Such a victory would forge long-lasting memories for them and might pave the way for lasting loyalty to House Lansius. More men reached him, joining from the other side of the village. In a friendly manner, Lansius called out to them, "Walk with me," or "Come with me."

His inviting gestures and words prompted everyone to follow him earnestly.

Before long, he was marshaling close to a thousand men before he arrived at the position of the Nicopolan column, where Servius was waiting.

"My Lord, South Hill has offered a truce," Servius reported, pride evident in his face and that of his staff.

"Good work, Servius," Lansius responded and offered his hand. The two clasped hands, much to their men's delight. The Nicopolans, craving honor and recognition, were ecstatic.

"What are the terms?" Lansius asked.

"Their surrender, My Lord, in return for a private meeting with you," Servius explained.

Lansius nodded thoughtfully. "Let's meet the Lord of South Hill and hope their request is reasonable. Otherwise, more blood will be spilled."

 

***

 

South Hill Side

The South Hill Captain and his men watched Lord Lansius' approach as if witnessing a raging storm. The famed Black Lord walked amidst a sea of warriors. Only then did the South Hill men realize the scale of the army they had been battling against.

As they watched the columns of men, everyone from South Hill felt not only defeated but also humbled and outclassed. They couldn't help but view the conqueror with awe. And they weren't alone in this sentiment. Peeking from his carriage, Lord Gunther mumbled, "So this is the man who has humbled half of Lowlandia..."

His Captain could only nod bitterly, pained by his failure and their defeat.

The Lord gazed at him and sighed. "All our men are battle-hardened, and he dismantled them as if they were nothing."

The Black Lord had completely crushed South Hill's forces, leaving no opportunity to rally. Even the usually stubborn Lord Gunther became compliant. Surrounded and thoroughly defeated, he had no choice but to offer terms.

The Lord of Korelia and his entourage now walked toward Lord Gunther's carriage. His escorts cleared any obstacles and shielded him from visible threats. Behind him, the bannerman proudly carried the Blue and Bronze standard, its few golden strands sparkling against the sun.

Everyone present watched the banner with a mix of raw emotions. It was the flag that had humbled every major Lord in Lowlandia. Many whispered that with the fall of South Hill, it was unequivocally the banner of a united Lowlandia.

The creak of a wooden door was heard as Lord Gunther, assisted by his squire and Captain, descended from his carriage. He had spotted Lord Lansius, but Lansius greeted him first.

"My Lord of South Hill, it's a genuine pleasure to meet you."

The words could be seen as an insult, but the tone was free of malice, prompting Lord Gunther to reply courteously. "My Lord, I am merely the caretaker of this region. I apologize if I have wronged you—"

"Ah, so you acknowledge your role in the attack on Korelia?" Lord Lansius interjected, speaking freely since they were out of earshot of their men, with only their closest aides nearby.

The directness was unexpected, but Lord Gunther was prepared. "Indeed. At that time, I was merely following the Coalition's urging."

"Will you shoulder the blame?" he asked sharply, his tone filled with impatience and perhaps also a disdain for long political sophistry.

"I have seen the error of my ways, but isn't it excessive to come here unannounced, using trickery, and trapping my troops like this?" the older Lord inquired.

"It is excessive, but time is a luxury I don't have," the Lord Lansius responded.

"Time...?"

"That issue is for later," he deftly sidestepped the question. "For now, I'm ready to discuss your terms."

Lord Gunther refrained from sighing and motioned to his squire, who offered a lavish silken pouch. Extracting the iron keys, Gunther showed it to Lord Lansius. "This is the key to South Hill Castle. I accept my defeat, but please, show leniency to my House."

"I will ensure a pension for your House. However, due to your past transgressions against the Lord of Three Hills, the Grand Alliance will decide your fate."

Lord Gunther could only offer a weak nod. His face showed strain as he surrendered the key to Lansius.

"Are you injured?" Lord Lansius asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Just an old wound," he responded.

Lord Lansius gestured to his confidant, "Fetch my physician." Then, to Sir Gunter, "I will ensure you receive proper care and treatment. Please return to your carriage; your pain gives me no pleasure."

 

***

 

In the aftermath of the battle, four hundred knights, cavalry, and dragoons, led by Sir Harold, galloped toward South Hill Castle. Armed with a few key hostages, a letter, and the seal of the Lord, they hoped to secure the castle's surrender.

Their arrival, like a thunderbolt in clear midday, shocked everyone on the other side. Panic ensued in both the castle and South Hill City. Chaos was only allayed when the cavalry showed no intention of attacking, looting, or sacking the city.

With knights at the forefront, Sir Harold projected an air of order and discipline. Heralds and messengers were dispatched to both the castle and the city to explain their intentions and garner support.

For the castle and the city, witnessing such a large cavalry force and evidence of their Lord's capture left them no choice but to request time to deliberate. Outwardly, they claimed the need to welcome the new Lord, while internally, the House controlling South Hill and its supporters grappled with their abrupt loss of power.

Despite their blood ties, the very recipients of Lord Gunther's favor were unwilling to surrender the castle just to save a defeated Lord. Ultimately, fear of Lord Lansius, concern for their captured family members, and the sight of the large cavalry force, indicating a larger army nearby, swayed the House and the castle staff.

Before sundown, they lowered their drawbridge and opened their gates. Following Lord Lansius' instruction, Sir Harold sent Dietrich and his group to take over the castle's defenses, while he and the remaining cavalry camped outside, vigilant against any potential trap.

They politely declined offers of wine and beer, remaining alert until the arrival of the main army.

As day turned to night and dawn broke anew, Sir Harold awoke with reddened eyes, relieved that nothing concerning had occurred. He promised himself not to tarnish his Lord's near-flawless victory.

That morning, Sir Harold began receiving visitors from affluent families, treating them cordially. Most were there to discuss hostages or ransoms, and a few even boldly offered marriage proposals for their daughters. He requested that they await his Lord's return. The knight's and his staff's non-threatening gestures helped to ease these families' apprehensions.

They didn't have to wait long. Just after midday, the Black Lord arrived at South Hill castle, accompanied by two thousand of his forces and a thousand camp followers. The officials and castle staff nervously awaited outside to greet their new Lord.

"Behold, you are in the presence of the Lord of Korelia, Protector of Korimor, and the Leader of the Grand Alliance," a rider heralded.

"My Lord," greeted the officials and castle staff as politely as they could.

Unexpectedly, Lord Lansius and the Lady chose to dismount and walk with their escorts toward the castle. Whenever informed of important or elderly figures, the Lord stopped, exchanged polite greetings, and conversed briefly about the castle or city.

This gesture left a favorable impression on his new subjects.

While the family of squires accepted defeat and adapted to their new master, the townsfolk remained fearful.

The shock of their troops' defeat, compounded by the recent failure at Korelia, was still fresh. Many had fled since yesterday, fearing Lord Gunther's capitulation wouldn't suffice to appease the Black Lord.

Informed about the situation by their informants, the Lord of Korelia and the Lady of Korimor chose to conduct a quick procession. The transfer of power was completed smoothly, without any show of force or a parade. It was marked only by a symbolic gesture: the staff silently lowered Sir Gunther's banner, which had adorned South Hill for over ten years, and replaced it with the Blue and Bronze standard.

Behind closed doors, ransom and negotiation talks proceeded peacefully.

The absence of military maneuvers and harsh decrees allowed the townsfolk a measure of relief. There were no indications of retribution from the Lord of Korelia, despite South Hill's involvement in the Coalition against his fief. No punitive actions seemed imminent against the populace.

Furthermore, the Lord's decision to camp his large army away from the city, allowing only the camp followers to establish camps and trade, was reassuring.

Another day passed in South Hill, and despite some persistent skeptics in the city, the feared aftermath did not materialize: there were no customary three days of looting, no gallows erected for executions, and no open courts set up to punish select individuals.

For the Lowlandians, this was as favorable an outcome as they could have hoped for—an almost bloodless transfer of power.

Gradually, the residents of South Hill began to reconsider their views on the Black Lord. Contrary to the dire rumors, he might not be as terrible as they had believed. Some even started to believe that he could be a better Lord, or at least a competent warlord who might bring peace to their region.

 

***

 

Lansius

The day was turning to dusk, and the wind carried a certain chill along with an earthy scent. Despite having secured the castle, Lansius chose to stay with his troops.

He had ordered Sir Harold and his knights to occupy the castle while allowing the cavalry and skirmishers to rent inns and celebrate the victory as they wished.

Having secured victory, Lansius had lifted most of his restrictions, permitting most of his army to celebrate freely.

The remaining issue was the Nicopolans. Owing to their large numbers, Lansius couldn't allow them to enter the city, as they might cause problems. This was why he stayed with them, celebrating in his own fashion.

"Servius," Lansius called, seated in his wooden chair on the platform erected for the feast.

"My Lord," Servius answered politely, while the thousands of men around them buzzed with anticipation.

"Light the fire and bring out the food. It's time to feast," the Lord instructed, and three thousand men cheered in unison.

"At once, My Lord," Servius replied, signaling his staff to light a large campfire. Before long, the encampment was filled with the glow of lanterns and long torches, taller than a man, designed to last for hours.

Then, the cook's assistant brought out the food they had prepared. Only now did the men see the roast meats and other dishes, their tantalizing scents and aromas having tormented them for hours.

Observing their eager reaction, Lansius commanded with a grand gesture, "Bring everything out, even the duck."

Everyone was astonished. A roast duck, the size of a small horse, was being hauled on a cart by no fewer than six people. Duck was a rarity, not so much for its expense, but because it was challenging to raise, with only the bravest venturing to breed them.

Moreover, due to their size, ducks were hard and time-consuming to cook properly, and most cooks shied away from the task. Fortunately, they had captured a bold squire who, upon ransom negotiation, revealed that his family excelled in this unique trade.

Beside Lansius, a certain Baroness also drooled in anticipation.

Lansius stifled a chuckle and, despite understanding that the servants were doing their best to be quick, he couldn't help but rally his men. "Well, what are we waiting for? Cut the meat and share it with everyone."

At the Lord's instruction, the Nicopolans surged forward. The higher-ranking individuals attacked the duck, helping the servants carve it. They then ran towards the Lord and Lady's high table, presenting the finest cuts before distributing the rest to their men, who had formed a queue.

"Form a line," their officers shouted to those yet unorganized, arranging them into six orderly lines.

"Everyone will get a share! There's enough for all," Servius reassured those at the back.

Meanwhile, at the high table, Carla tasted the food and approved. Afterward, Lansius ate a small portion and drank from his goblet, signaling everyone else to start eating.

Like a race, those with filled plates began to eat. Audrey went straight for the roast duck, and Lansius couldn't blame her. The meat, with its strong odor, was lean yet tender, slightly chewy or gamey but satisfyingly rich and filling. The skin was crisp, the fat juicy, and the sauce—a blend of vinegar, honey, herbs, and mustard—masked the odor and enriched the flavor.

"Eat well, I'm going to help with the line," Lansius announced to Audrey as he stood up.

"But the duck, it's best eaten hot," his wife said, gazing at him, baffled by his culinary transgression.

Lansius leaned in closer to her ear. "I'll let you in on a secret."

She furrowed her brows in curiosity.

"There's another duck, and it's even fattier."

Audrey's eyes widened, shimmering with affection.

"Make sure to get the best cut. That's an order," Lansius said with a smile, to which Audrey responded with an approving nod.

Escorted by Carla, Lansius made his way to the middle of the long lines. As he walked, his men bowed their heads and greeted him, some cheering or weeping upon seeing him in person.

I just can't get used to this... Is this what famous actors and actresses go through?

Their reaction to his presence was overwhelming.

"My Lord," Servius greeted.

Lansius patted the older man's back and then gazed at the hundreds who were lined up. "Rest assured, there's plenty of food today, and everybody will get a piece."

"I hope it's not a small piece, My Lord," one man commented, eliciting laughter from the others.

Lansius playfully retorted, "If anyone doesn’t get a full plate, I'll invite him to my table."

The men cheered at the Lord's promise.

Lansius did this strategically to maintain their support and to ensure order. Since it was risky to allow them to enter the city, he needed to keep them confined here until he could formulate a proper plan. Besides that, he also had an ulterior motive.

They can have slices of duck egg...

Apart from ducks, Lansius had also acquired duck eggs as gifts from the duck tamer family. Before his staff could use them to prepare broth for him, he chose to distribute the eggs directly to his men. He had sent five hard-boiled eggs to the infirmary as gifts for those injured in battle, and he planned to distribute the rest here.

"My Lord, may I have a word in private?" Servius called out suddenly.

Lansius nodded at the request. The two, followed by his escort, moved to a quieter area.

"I've just received word from the kitchen staff," Servius said, his tone grave. "A portion of the supplies we have is compromised."

"Compromised?" Lansius echoed in surprise.

"It's Sergio," Servius revealed. "He must've mixed dirt and sand at the bottom of his supplies to make them seem larger than they actually are."

Lansius couldn't even sigh. His mind already raced to find a solution, his heart pounding and hands shaking with rage. He was incensed that even in death, Sergio could still cause disaster.

Servius continued carefully, "I thought My Lord should know that if we stop rationing, there's likely only enough grain for about ten days."

"What about the harvest?"

"I'm not a farmer, but they have said that the harvest in South Hill has been delayed each year. They say it will need at least two to three more weeks, perhaps even longer, before it's ready to harvest."

"That's almost a month..." Lansius murmured bitterly.

"My Lord, we should continue with rationing until we can find a solution," the former mercenary leader suggested. "The men have had their fill tonight. Tomorrow, we can tighten our belts once again."

"How many know about this?" Lansius asked. Without waiting for an answer, he added, "We need to work quietly. Perhaps I could turn this into an opportunity."

 

***