A Tale of Blades & Blood-Chapter 26: Soldiers and Lords

[Ryene's Point of View...]

The old men are not spared when the armies march. Even if I am old and often fall behind the convoy of carriages, I still manage to tag along, but I do not know how long I can do this for.

The lord I promised to serve left for The Aely and has been gone for quite a time. As for now, the only person I have left to advise is the prideful Lord Folius, or as he calls himself, King Folius. The soldiers would often chant prayers, led by their bannermen from the free lands, but those were few. The sound of horns and trumpets echoed as the men would sing war songs. The armor of the men clicked and collided with one another ever so often, making a soft, metallic melody.

The men would sing- "Take the lands and free the slaves and you will have your peace... When the times grow dire and the winter comes we will ride and fight the beasts!" while the others sang songs that reminded them of home. "Oh, Nerea, queen of beauty, will you give me your favor? Oh, Nerea, queen of beauty, will you grant me and my wife some peace? Give favor to the girls and favor to the lads- Oh, Nerea, queen of wives!"

The march was not silent, which I could bear.

The surrounding environment around us was filled with hills as high two high trees tall. All we needed was a night's rest before we reached the castle of Ale Hall; then, another siege would begin.

"You tired, old man?" a voice asked loudly, followed by the sound of horse hooves.

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I turn to see Ser Mareste, who looked down on me with pity. "No, Ser..." I told him, "...I am fine strolling among these soldiers. I will be alright-"

"Nonsense." he said. "This is no place for an old man. Go to one of the supply carriages and ask them to grant you a ride. By the time we reach Ale Hall, your feet will be swollen and your lungs battered so much from the exhaustion."

"No need, my lord- they will never accept me in their carts." I told him. "It is much better if I walked along the way instead. I am humbled by your request, but I must refuse-"

"It ain't no request." he remarked. "That's an order, and you will get on one of those carts."

They will not accept an old man. I tried to open my mouth to object, but I decide to yield instead. They will not accept me. I make my way towards one of the supply carriages, where I find the soldier that rode it as he drove the horse that pulled a day's worth of rations. He was armored, his helmet off, revealing his face that was black and wounded, with a scar on his cheek and another on his forehead. He bore a black beard- a messy one at that. I approached him, trying to keep up with his horse.

"Ser!" I called out. "Will it please you if I were to ride with you on your carriage?"

He looked at me with eyes wide. "Why should I let you ride, old man? You'll only slow us down." he remarked. I knew they would not accept me. "You people are slow- you don't belong in battle. Take your cloak and go home, lest you ought to be killed or left behind to starve-"

"I can't go home- I have no home." I told him, cutting him off, my breathing became unsteady, almost shaking. "I am the advisor of your new king, and I have been ordered to get on your carriage lest I die. I am a necessary piece in his game and I require your carriage-"

"Fine." he snapped, raising a hand. "But you will keep your hands off the rations or I swear your fingers are coming off." he replied.

The carriage stops as he pulls the reins of his horse. I get up using the steps while he holds me by the arm, pulling me up with absurd strength. It is expected of me to thank him, I thought. "Thank you, Ser..."

"Ser Jenos of The Freelands." he replied. "I am Ser Jenos, old man. Call me Ser or Jen." he remarked. "Fought in the Siege of Cain, joined the mercenaries of the free folk, bought by the eastern lords, and now serving Lord Loreys Tiberrun-"

"Loreys?" I asked, dumbfounded. Aren't the lords of The Spire holders of these men?

"Aye." he replied. "He be the one that bought us fifty thousand men. That man's rich... maybe even shitting gold for all I know-"

"Who do you owe your allegiance? Who do your brother mercenaries owe their allegiance?" I asked, my eyes squinting. If they are not loyal to Lord Folius... I dared to think, then we have a chance to turn down this rebellion.

"To the person that bought us, old man." he replied. "That old Loreys is who we owe our allegiance to. He gave us the gold, and we gave him our life and steel. Us free folk may be barbarians to you soft cunts in the north, but we understand the value of repayment."

Is this a dream? I wanted to ask. This can only mean one thing... "What say you about your new king?" I asked. "What do you think of him?"

"Lord Folly was he? Fuck whoever gave him that girl name." he cursed, giving a scoff. Folius, I wanted to say, Lord Folius is his name. "I've never seen him for myself. Rumors spread across the camps saying he doesn't even exist. The man's never been to battle... or perhaps I just don't see him do such a thing. A coward or a warrior- who knows?"

I rest my back on the wooden backrest. My hands are folded, and my face filled with thought and mystery. "Do you think he is worthy of the crown? Do you think his cause is just and true-"

"Ha!" Ser Jenson laughed, slapping his knee as tears come out of his eyes. As if the other soldiers overheard, they began to laugh as well. "You think of us fools, old man..." he began, "...we don't kneel to rumored cowards. Not unless the man shows himself worthy of battle, we won't fight with him. Lord Loreys on the other hand is a true commander-"

"And certainly not a fucking coward!" yelled another, sending them all into a laugh once more.

"Shut up, Joras!" Ser Jenos yelled jokingly. "Remember when you pissed yourself when the red cavalry charged? You ran like a child-"

"I did not!"

"You did!" Ser Jenos laughed, and so did the others. A good sport the man was, laughing with his brothers even as they made fun of him.

They don't support him... I thought, Lord Folius has nobody behind him. "A coward is he?" I asked. "What makes you all so sure Lord Loreys is not the same? What makes a man not a coward at all-"

"He fought with us to battle!" yelled Ser Joras.

Ser Jenos agreed. "Aye. That man rode into battle and risked his life like we did. He's a good talker... perhaps he'd make good for a bard if I don't say so myself."

"An old bard's no good!" exclaimed a soldier. "The lords would ought to cut his head rather than listen to his songs- if he still has a singin' voice."

"Aye, Jasson..." Ser Jenson agreed, "...but our commander's a hell of a lot better at singing than any of us brigands! I can't even sing my son to sleep back home!" he exclaimed.

"Let me get this clear.." I began, "...all of you owe your fealty to Lord Loreys?"

"Aye!" they all replied aloud. As if the conversation had reached even the farthest of the formation, the others agreed in unison.

"Long live the commander!" declared Ser Joras.

"Aye!" then declared Ser Jenson. "Long live Lord Loreys! The Hound of Tiberrun and The One We Serve!"

The men agreed, their faces filled with joy. All of them exclaimed and declared in unison- others raising their swords into the air. A chant echoed amongst the armies, even reaching the front lines as the Abberan Brothers began to look around, proud of the new-found morale their men had found. There is hope in Loreys, I thought to myself, if we can convince him to sue for peace with the Ballisters... all will be well.

The soldiers want HIM to be king, my mind revolted.

But there is hope...

You try to convince yourself, it replied.

As I looked around, I could only realize the true light. These men do not want peace... they want a rebellion... with Loreys as their center and king- not Folius nor Lord Orevian. The soldiers continue their chant, and soon, their bannermen join them all. Their voices were loud and reached even the farthest of hills. The words were clear...

"Loreys the Great!"

"Loreys the Great!"

While the army chants to their lord, that lord himself rides with twenty thousand men... [Loreys' Point of View...]

"How many days until we get out of this wet land?" Lord Rolen complained bitterly, whose horse's feet would sink slightly into the mud occasionally.

Indeed, I wanted to say, The Muddy Marshlands are not for horses nor armored men. "Soon enough..." I began, "...the mud under your feet will freeze to ice and soil-frost when we reach The Choke. The cold north is more damp and freezing than all your men could ever imagine." I told him, trying to keep my balance as my horse could barely keep its own.

The men behind us did not march, but squabble. Some sank into the mud with only there upper body on the surface, while others only sank near the top of their foot. Gods... I said in my head, if only we had built roads instead of staging a rebellion.

"We siege Ten Towns?" Lord Rolen asked, looking at me with a helmet blocking his one eye. "Without siege machines, how the fuck are we supposed to do that? You can't siege a castle with no siege weapons-"

"All we need is fear." I said, cutting him off. "We will make them starve as they wait inside. Ten Towns may be a large castle with ten districts surrounding it... but you forget that their food is not infinite."

"Our men are not infinite." Lord Rolen replied. "If we siege the Ten Towns we will be decimated by the northern men. Who will you have in support behind you if our men fall? The armies of the cunt boy lord are in the south brutalizing peasants and taking down lords. You have nobody to support you then, Loreys-"

"The armies of the cunt boy lord will march north after they take The Ale Hall." I told him. "The armed men of The Raven and Old Pyke are incarcerated by years of neglect from the rule of the blue kings of Ravenhan." I began, spitting on the mud as I mocked them. "Once, those two castles could muster fifty thousand men... now they can only gather a mere five thousand peasants armed with pitchforks and copper blades. House Heraion is a weak house. If those Abberan brothers take down Ale Hall, those rabbits will fall in line." I remarked, an evil smile on my face.

"Then what?" Lord Rolen asked, still in confusion. "Do you know how many days it will take for their men to march north through the tunnels to Ten Towns? This is ridiculous, Loreys. Your plan will not work- it makes no sense at all-"

"They will take that castle in two days. Three to four days from Ale Hall to the tunnels..." I told him, "...and give one or two more until they reach Ten Towns. That gives us at most eight days to defend against their armies... and the north is still mustering its banners to respond to the unexpected surprise at the wedding south-"

"What if the armies of Old Gate manage to intercept us or even ambush us during the siege? Do you forget we have two armies to go fight against? They can muster twenty thousand men- not even including the men of Ten Towns -while we only hold twenty..." he remarked loudly. The soldiers mumbled amongst themselves, hearing the doubted words of their lord. "We are outnumbered, Loreys. We should wait for the armies and make our camp at The Choke where the snow begins to cover the grass. We must wait-"

"And let their armies join together and take us head on in the ice and snow?" I asked, outraged at the thought. "I would rather take on Old Gate and Ten Towns rather than patiently wait for our deaths in The Choke." I told him. "You would have us all strangle ourselves to death as a mercy kill in The Choke rather than have a chance at victory at Ten Towns?"

"My men are not free folk." he remarked. "Those armies you commanded are born warriors while mine are only soldiers that can march, kill, and swing a sword while defending themselves with shields. Do you think we can face those men-"

"Soldiers!" I called, turning my horse around to face the army. Every single one of them stopped in their tracks, looking up at me as their armor began to be stained in mud and filth. "Those who doubt the wits of their lord... raise your hands! Those who fear a bloody death and wish to die a pleasing death with their family by their side... raise your hands! And to those who want to go back home... raise your hands!" I ordered.

One man raises his hand to the air. Then, another follows. Then, another, and another, and another, until all of the twenty thousand men from where I stood to the Red River's waters had their hands raised. "Traitors!" Lord Rolen exlcaimed. "My men are no traitors or deserters-"

"Indeed, they are not!" I said aloud with a hindering tone. Rolen's words get stuck in his throat before he could raise his blade. "But these here men... are human!" I declared, moving my horse forward slightly. "You are all- just like us -humans who fear, cower, and cry in despair when they miss their wives and their homes! You are all- just like us -humans who doubt their abilities and choose to sue for peace even when the war has not yet begun!"

The soldiers moved uneasily. Some look down in shame for being called out on, but others look up to me in search of meaning. Listen, children... to the words of your commander.

"Yet what do you have that are unlike anything those cunts possess? What makes you all so special that I myself will ride with you unto battle?" I asked. The soldiers yelled words like "Courage!" and "Dignity!" as I continued on. "Is it not that humans have courage? Is it not that humans yearn for justice and honor? For years you have been ransacked by the lords of the east and the crown itself! They spared the lives of House Strix and the other lords, but they made their prize their cage- taxing them and destroying their reputation!"

The soldiers' mumbles of unease turned to whispers of anger that came close to boiling. "All your lives are not scraps in this game! Nobody here is a pawn in a king's game! I fight for your justice, for your identity, and for your sake I ride into battle, risking my life as do you yours!" I declared aloud.

I let out my loud voice into the air as the echo of my blade-like words that piereced like spears covered the vast marshlands. "Be proud, men of the east, for you have the honor to fight for your kin! Be proud, men of the east, for you have come to fight even with no rewards! Be proud, men of the east and soldiers of the broken and wronged, for our day of revenge upon the north has come! Will you fight for your kin and your commander!?"

The sound of blades and battle cries went up fast as the soldiers rejoiced, each one declaring their vows and their dreams openly as they let out their voices in triumph. They chanted loudly among the others the words- "Death to the North!" and "Gold to the East!" as their fires that festered in their hearts were given the coal and wood it needed.

Today, I thought to myself, I am no longer a bannerman... nor a soldier... nor a petty lord. I am the true king of The Northern Island, whose actions will bring fear into the lands of the traitors and cunts and peace to those who are wronged. I raise my sword into the air to join my men in unison. The chants were clear, and their words clearer.

"The Lord of The East!"

"The Lord of The East!"