Iron Blooded

My sword sliced through the air in an arc as I practiced.

It was evening, and I had been drilling for hours. Somehow the exercise that would normally clear my head was having little effect today.

I pivoted on my lead foot, bringing up my shield and practicing my sword thrusts. Sweat fell freely down my bare chest. I could feel the eyes of others on me.

The soldiers watched me, weary of my mood. I’d been mostly silent since the death of my friend. I’d needed time to think, and with thought came the need for action. I spun, retracting my shield and stepping into a lunge.

The motion was practiced, careful. And behind it I could feel the additional boost in stats I had gained from the fight.

I was now level 16, and by the looks of it I was well on my way to the the next. The boost in my base stats was small, and yet I could feel the difference.

“I see you climbed to silver,” came a voice behind me. Even without it I would have recognized the relaxed grace of Kato as he stepped into the field. He had his sword in one hand, still sheathed.

“Congratulations.”

He was correct. Scanning my stats I could see that my Swordsmanship trait had ascended to silver. There was still a ways to go before I reached mastery, but the increase in skill was a welcome change.

“Alright then Sergeant." He said. "Let’s test your mettle.”

I tried to shoot a glare at him but Kato ignored me, bringing up his guard and circling.

I knew what he was trying to do. Kato was my friend and he had seen me out of sorts. He figured what would snap me out of my mood was a proper ass-kicking.

I intended to make him work for it.

I parried his first thrust and sidestepped the second, using my momentum to launch into a swing. Kato caught my blade with his own and smiled.

“Good. But still predictable.” He leaned forwards and I jerked back, shield raising.

At his widening smile I scowled.

He went for me again, circling right and then left in an attempt to confuse me. Metal rang on metal as I blocked his blows.

several minutes passe until hee stepped too far forward and I seized on the opportunity. I thrust my shield forward, intending to knock him unto his ass.

Kato simply moved around me, flowing like water.

Moments later I felt the cold kiss of steel at my neck.

“Better,” he said.

I stepped back, lifting the rim of my shield to knock his blade upwards. At the same time I stepped inside his guard, thrusting for his exposed stomach. Kato narrowly managed to avoid the mock blow by twisting sideways.

“Not so predictable?” I asked, circling. Kato conceded the point with a nod and a grin.

“I do declare Trollslayer, I think you’re evolving. Though your wood carving skills aren’t anything to write home about.”

We continued our practice bout until the sun began it’s descent in the sky.

Army Engineers began to return to the encampment in groups, having spent most of the day on the construction of the bridge.

Without the constant threat of Goblin arrows, the progress had been steady. Lord Blackthorne predicted another full days construction before it would be complete.

I intended to spend that time honing my skills.

the fight went on until our endurance was spent.

Kato and I came to a stop, both of us sucking at air like drowning men. We were sweaty, tired, and splattered in dirt. And yet the mood had shifted.

“You fought well,” said Kato approvingly. An angry red welt marked the spot where I’d managed to strike him with the flat of my blade. My own body was covered in small cuts and bruises that I knew I’d feel tomorrow.

I leaned on my shield.

“So did you. One day I’ll manage to match your skill with the blade. But it sure as hell isn’t today.”

He smiled but just as quickly as it had appeared that smile faded, replaced by sorrow.

Kato gazed towards the river.

“You know it wasn’t your fault Will,” he said. “You couldn’t have known things would play out as they did. The flow of battle is unpredictable. It’s the one consistent thing about war.”

I tightened my grip on my shield.

“I was in command.” I said softly. “The fault was mine.”

“You did all that you-“

“The fault was mine!”

I didn’t mean for it to be a shout but the words still echoed across the field. I lowered my voice, suddenly conscious of those that watched us.

I turned away to heft my shield over a shoulder.

“I know I can’t change what happened,” I said. “The only thing I can control is the strength of my arm and my ability to cut down enemies in front of me. It isn’t much but it’s what I have.”

Kato nodded and sheathed his own sword.

“It’s a good philosophy, even if it is a bit neanderthal. Bjorn would approve.”

My lips twitched.

“Bjorn says battle is a conversation. That every time you swing your blade you’re making a statement of your own conviction.”

“Spoken like a true backwoods poet.”

I snorted.

“The North can’t be that bad.”

“Tell that to the bears.”

The sound of boot steps behind us made me turn. Gills approached and beside him Draxus limped along carrying a small wooden crate In his arms.

“How did it go?” I asked. Gills smiled.

“The 3rd will eat well tonight. The monster harvest was enough to invest in a new company tent and supplies for the Auxiliary. I believe we owe you thanks.”

“Did the Smith give you trouble?”

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“No, but he did low ball us. We could have gotten at least ten additional silver on the Chieftains loot. Are you sure your deal with him was worth it?”

“It saved my ass in the battle, so I’d say so. Besides, there is nothing I can do about it now."

Gills shrugged and pulled a purse from his belt. It was heavier than I'd seen it in the past and that seemed to cheer him. Gills handed out five silvers which I placed in my inventory.

“Vera is cooking duck tonight. Astrid managed to shoot a few down by the river.”

“Come sup with us and stop being so damn moody,” boomed Draxus’s deep voice.

I glanced at his leg. It seemed to be supporting him alright but I noticed it was still bound by bandages.

“How’s the leg?”

“I’ll live,” he grunted, shifting the box. “It still pains me on account of the bones being freshly healed. But the Healers did good enough work.”

“What’s in the box?" Kato stepped forward trying to peer over my shoulder. Gills grinned and spread his hands.

“Spiced wine imported from the bronze coast. Enough of it to go around, too. This is one of three crates I purchased off a traveling merchant. Only 9 silvers for the lot!” Gills was still smiling as Kato opened the lid and examined the bottles.

“Well some things never change,” he said wryly. “Gills my good man, I believe you just got scammed.”

Kato hefted one of the bottles.

The smile slipped form Gills face as he turned. Kato tilted the bottle at an angle to catch the last rays of sun and held it out to him.

Gills examined it closely. Then he swore so violently that a passing washerwoman blushed.

“I knew there was something off about that bastard,” he said. “This is a cheap red, and it’s not even vintage by the looks of it. The labels have just been swapped.”

“That’s what you get for not double checking your purchase,” chided Kato.

I listened to them argue all the way back to camp. There was something in me, a sort of warmth spreading in my chest.

The 3rd was a cluster fuck, there was no denying it. But there was a strong sense of brotherhood among the rag tag group and I was glad to be a part of it.

I splashed myself with cold water from the basin and scrubbed at my chest and neck, washing away most of the sweat and dirt. Then I changed and reemerged from my tent.

Vera was roasting several ducks on a spit over the cook fire. The smell was enough to make my mouth water. At the sight of me, the soldiers raised tin cups and a shout went up.

“Trollslayer!” barked Bjorn from where stood with one foot propped on a log.

“Come and drink with us. Pour him a cup.”

A tin mug was passed down and cheap red wine poured. I took the cup and, with one fluid motion, downed the lot of it. I

t was dryer than I expected and the tartness caught me off guard. At my face the soldiers cheered again. My cup was passed along the line to be filled again.

It wasn’t long before Kato started up a marching tune, and soon others were joining in. Even Gills belted out the refrain, though he was severely off-key.

Vera worked hard to prepare the meal and soon everyone had a wooden bowl in front of them. The meant was delicious. It had been cooked with a crunch to the skin that made the juicy center that much better.

Vera walked among us with a mug of her own, smiling and handing out extra food to those who complimented her cooking. She was like the mother of the group and the men were grateful.

I was four cups in now and my head had begun to feel fuzzy.

A couple of the soldiers from another company wandered in to look around.

The 3rd welcomed them and several empty mugs were passed forward to be filled. The soldiers drank with us and one of them, a rowdy man named York starting bragging about the last campaign he’d been on.

He was loud and the way he kept cutting glances at Vera made me think the stories were more for her benefit then anyone else.

Vera didn’t even seem to notice him. She continued making her rounds, talking with the soldiers of the 3rd and filling their plates.

When she passed by York he suddenly reached out a gripped her wrist.

“You’re a real looker aren’t ye?” he slurred, grinning. Vera smiled uncomfortably.

"I'm not sure what you mean," she mumbled.

she twisted to pull her wrist free but the soldier wasn’t letting go. His eyes were glazed with drink and he didn't seem to notice the anger stares now directed at him.

York yanked her towards him and Vera nearly fell over as he pulled her into his lap.

“Ah that’s right lass, theres where you belong, eh?” Vera shoved at him, trying to get free but he fisted her hair and tutted.

“Just relax lass. Just-“

Gills was off like a rocket. One moment he had been sitting beside me, a duck leg halfway to his mouth. The next he had York by the throat, a knife glinting under his chin.

“Put her down,” he snarled, pressing the blade harder. Everyone around the cook fire had gone silent.

A trickle of blood dribbled down the soldiers neck. His eyes were wide as he released Vera’s hair and she jumped to her feet.

“Bastard,” she said, spitting at York’s boots. The soldier’s expression shifted from fear to anger and he shoved Gills away from him.

When he stood, so did his boys. There were hard faces all around, and not just from York’s crew.

Several members of the 3rd had risen too, including Draxus and Kato. It took me a moment to realize I was on my own feet.

“You fuck with a member of the 3rd and you answer to us,” said Gills coldly. “Now kindly fuck off.”

York smiled, but the expression was nasty. He cracked his neck and stepped forward, towering over Gills,

“I don’t much like ye tone old man,” he said. “I’ve half a mind to remind you of your place in this Army. You’re not soldiers, you’re a band of mercenaries and thugs. Cheap whores for the Lord’s army.”

“I don’t seem to recall your company turning the tide in the battle,” said Kato. “You were on the line were you? Or somewhere near the rear where you could watch the real men fight."

“You calling me a fookin’ coward?” York raised his fists.

Kato grinned, white teeth gleaming in the fire light.

“I wouldn’t call you a word you couldn’t spell.”

York snarled and dropped into a boxers stance. Moments later his fist sailed through the air towards Kato. That was when all hell broke lose.

Fighting while drunk is not optimal - but shit was it fun.

I leapt the nearest log and swung a wild haymaker, clipping one of York’s boys on the chin. The soldier stumbled back and his buddy rushed me. I brought my guard up to protect my face, grunting when a punch connected with my ribs.

Next to me Kato and York exchanged blows, and Draxus knee’d a man so hard in the stomach that he fell to his all fours and puked.

"What a waist of wine," said Kato as he danced past, ducking under a wide swing from York.

I grabbed my opponent by the front of his jerkin and yanked him sideways, sending him careening into the fire. He shrieked and moments later came leaping out like a galloping horse.

Kato finally managed to get the better of York, ducking under the larger man's guard and dropping him with two quick jabs to the chin.

The fight wasn’t long… or maybe it was. In my inebriated state it was difficult to tell.

All I knew is that I was laughing and punching any man who stepped in front of me. At some point I saw Vera pull a heavy wooden ladle from a satchel at her waist and bang a soldier who was fighting Gills on the head. The man crumpled like a ragdoll.

We drove the soldiers back towards the entrance of our little camp and several turned tail and fled. I raised my cup as they ran - when had I gotten a cup? - and downed the contents with a flourish.

“Come back any time,” said Kato, planting his boot on the backside of a fleeing soldier and sending him sprawling forward. He glanced towards me and grinned.

“Your knuckles are bleeding."

“I think it’s wine.” I slurred. We both stared at each other. Then we snorted.

The mood hadn’t faltered among the men of the 3rd. Several soldier volunteered to drag the unconscious bodies of York and his men out into the field and leave them there. When they returned they were cheered and Kato led another marching song so off key my ears hurt.

I joined in despite myself, though I didn’t know the words.

At last when the moon was high and bellies were full, Gills announced it was time to call it a night.

There was disappointing in the air, and a few men grumbled. In the end though there was nothing to do than concede. Draxus and Gills doused the cook fire and I stood, stretching sore muscles.

My bladder was full and I had half a mind to take a walk to clear the fog from my head. Slapping Kato on the shoulder I strode out of camp towards the tree line.

The night air was cool against my skin. I found a secluded place and did my business. When I was done I laced up my trousers and craned back my head to look at the moon.

It was a silver orb in the night sky, so similar to our moon back on earth. It was the one thing that felt familiar about this place. Even the constellations were different.

“Wouldn’t have taken you for a star gazer.”

The voice made me jump.

“Jesus fuck,” I said, spinning around. I stared into the sharp blue eyed gaze of the Healer from the battlefield. She had arched one prim eyebrow.

“Who is Jesus and why do you want to fuck him?”

I blinked, my wine soaked mind too slow to come up with a response.

“I - you caught me off guard is all.”

She stepped closer, and her lips curved in a sly smile.

“Why, Will of Blackbriar… are you drunk?”

I flushed but I wasn’t sure why.

“Something like that.”

The Healer’s gaze slid to my hand now dripping with blood. She held out her own. I hesitated a moment before letting her my hand in hers. She examined it, expression thoughtful as she ran a finger along my skinned knuckles.

“Whoever was on the receiving end of that punch will probably be out til morning.” She said. “Stay still, I’ll heal it.”

“You don’t have to-“ I started but she ignored me.

A soft golden glow lit up the space between us, and the throbbing pain in my knuckles faded away.

I wiggled my fingers and smiled.

“Good as new. Why is it you’re always saving me?”

“Oh it’s simple,” said the Healer, tucking a strand of loose blond hair behind her ear. “You’re the damsel in distress.”

Wine made me bold.

“At least I’m a good looking damsel.”

The Healer’s head tilted to the side, and amusement glimmered in her eyes. She made a show of examining me, eyes running from my chest, to my shoulders, and then my face.

“Perhaps,” she said with a smirk.

Then she turned and made to walk away.

“Wait,” I said.

The word hung in the air between us.

“I’m afraid you have the advantage of me. I don’t know your name.”

“No, you don’t.” She responded.

Her blue eyes seemed to dance in the moonlight as she glanced over her shoulder.

"See you around."

I could only stand there, watching her walk away.

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