A Modern Mind in Medieval Times

The next day, our procession trundled along the narrow, twisting paths through Nobart’s midlands, wheels grinding over stone. The air smelled of wet bark and grass. As I watched the valleys roll past, my thoughts drifted toward the future I was trying to build.

Chadom would get metal, fuel and ingredients to turn it into a fortress-state, while Nanon would get repeating bows and crossbows to keep Zoran at bay.

Would that be enough? Not if the Zoranians had cannons. And even if then, what was the point, when the commoners lived like livestock. I didn’t care much for Nanon as it was, other than as a buffer state.

Could I fix it somehow?

Suddenly, the world lurched. The carriage jolted to a hard stop. A loud rustling echoed ahead, like a tree crashing down, then behind us.

Silence followed, then shouts erupted, sharp and panicked. Startled men. Ours.

I slid the shutter ajar a bit. The captain of my guards was looking ahead with the intensity of a predator. Battle had forced Theo to grow up.

“What is it?”

“An ambush, Sire,” he hissed, and looked at me meaningfully.

“Weapons free,” I snapped. No time for secrecy.

Cursing, I hauled out the blackened cuirass and helmet from beneath the seat. Both had plate skirts to protect vital areas. As long as something didn’t kill me in one shot or quickly bleed me out, I should survive. Panic made it even more difficult to strap them on, even with a guard helping. The shouts of men grew louder into screams.

Helmet on. Crossbow in hand and the bag of ghillie suits over the shoulder.

I threw open the door and darted toward the closest tree, as arrows flew overhead. My men, on foot, closed around me. We were in a cramped valley between two forested hills. A perfect place for an ambush, where riders would be easy targets. Arrows hissed in from multiple angles.

The primal instinct to flatten myself against the earth replaced the smoldering anger, but I pushed both of them away.

“Team B, rear!” I hissed at four men.

They pulled on the ghillie suits and vanished into the brush.

Ahead, the Nanoans roared into the attackers with the reckless ferocity of lions, while the Cha soldiers became tigers. Hidden in the underbrush, they picked out enemy archers one by one. The moment an archer would peek out to loose an arrow, they would find a bolt stuck in their chest or whizzing past their ear.

I crept towards the front of the procession, step by step. My four guards stood fearless in a shell around me, wielding their crossbows like pump action shotguns. Between every kchak-kchak-kchak of the crossbows reloading, bolts streaked at the attackers like angry hornets.

A few volleys, and the arrows whizzing past us thinned, then stopped.

Three Nanoans lay dead at the front. Two knights were locked in duels with two opponents each, who were moving too cleanly and striking too confidently to be peasants. The rest of the soldiers weren’t doing so well, as the ambushers outnumbered them almost two to one.

We couldn’t safely shoot at the closely engaged combatants.

“Poleaxe,” I said.

One of my men handed it over, and I entered the fray. The already engaged enemy made easy prey.

There was no finesse, no elegant technique. Just the swing of the hammer and the soft, sickening give of a human skull.

Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

I smashed one skull after another, giving the Nanoans breathing room. It was brutal, barbaric, but whatever emotions wanted to surface were drowned by the surging adrenaline.

Two of my men flanked me, ready to crush any enemy that would get close. They didn’t get a lot of chances use their skills, as the other two, wielding crossbows, kept finding chests to bury bolts into. The brigands kept falling like marionettes before they could get close.

A bear of a man charged and roared as he brought down his hammer in an overhead arc that could’ve killed me, but I managed to roll aside. Four bolts hammered deep into his chest before I could rise. He toppled face first and never moved again.

The enemy’s momentum faltered. Realizing they wouldn’t win, they turned tail and fled. The Nanoans hacked at their backs but didn’t pursue far.

Then everything went still. Breathing hard, I surveyed the carnage. Men and horses lay dead and injured on the ground, screaming and thrashing, blood pooling beneath them. Furious Nanoans hacked the few groaning brigands to death. It was a disaster.

“Alive!” I suddenly shouted, voice cracking. “We need some alive!”

The Nanoans stared at me as if I was mad. I didn’t get to vent my frustrations as my thoughts snapped toward their next target: Reshma.

“Where’s the envoy?” I barked at a Nanoan knights. He pointed toward their carriage. In all the chaos, it had been left unguarded.

Shaking the tremor from my legs, I ran to it and tried the door. It wouldn’t budge.

“Lady Reshma! Are you alright?” I yelled between heavy breaths.

A click, a scrape, and the door cracked open. Her blanched, tense face appeared, a dagger clenched in her slender hand.

“Are you hurt, Excellency?” she asked in a barely controlled voice, while scanning me.

“No.”

“There’s blood on you!”

“Not mine.”

“Oh.” She sagged in relief and tried to step out.

“Wait,” I extended my poleaxe to bar her way. “Let us sweep the area first. There may be an archer waiting for a specific target.”

“You should get inside!” she hissed as her eyes widened. “If anything happens to you… it would be a disaster for both our realms.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said, forcing a smile.

I checked our rear. No noise of fighting.

As we approached, one of the Nanoan knights had a sword at the throat of one of my men in the ghillie suit.

“Ours!” I shouted. The soldier removed his suit to show his face.

The knight lowered his blade.

Looking around, both Nanoan and brigand bodies were littered in equal numbers. The air was full of the tang of fresh blood. The injured, moaning Nanoans were being tended by their comrades. I went through every brigand’s body. None was alive. Nothing identifying or incriminating as well.

I groaned inwardly. Any chance of finding out who sent them was gone. Drained, I leaned against a tree.

“Team B, go sweep the perimeter.” I told the men wearing the suits.

“Wenik is hurt, Sire,” one of the guards said. “Got surprised by an archer. Arrow through the knee.”

“You ride with me,” I told him. “Replace him with someone, Theo.”

Joints aching, I helped tend to the wounded with the bandages and tinctures we had.

Eight Nanoans lay dead at my feet. Two more were grievously injured; a cracked skull and a cut into the gut so deep no one thought they would make it. Four would recover, but only one of them was in a condition to fight.

Among my men, only Wenik was badly injured. The rest had only bruises and scrapes, or so they claimed. Ethan tried to hide it, but his limp made the severely sprained ankle obvious.

“Stop being idiotically brave,” I snapped. “You are a liability if you can’t perform at peak level. You’ll get yourself and those who rely on you killed if you keep me in the dark. Anyone else hiding injuries?”

They shook their heads.

“Good. Back to silence.”

When the numbers settled in my mind, dread followed.

A force of twenty eight reduced to thirteen, and me. Eleven of the twenty two horses dead or scattered. If we were ambushed again by a force of similar size, we would be wiped out, even with the contingency.

I considered turning back, but we were far closer to Nordhaven than the Bog.

Reshma had the same thought. “Nordhaven is only a few hours away,” she said softly, avoiding my gaze.

A part of me wanted to soften her guilt, but I crushed it. Keeping the lands safe from violence was literally the most fundamental role of government, and theirs had failed.

“I agree,” I said, not letting my emotions show. “Although I insist you travel with me.”

Her manicured brows knitted in confusion.

“My carriage has steel plating. It’s almost arrow-proof. Yours can carry the wounded.”

She silently agreed.

We buried the dead with care, loaded the injured into the Nanoan carriage, removed the trees felled to block our path and set out again.

Poor Wenik groaned at every other bump, while Reshma silently watched the floor, hands folded tightly in her lap, occasionally rubbing the pommel of her slim dagger.

This was no random attack.

It was too well planned, against an obviously important party. Someone wanted her dead, or me.

Who could have ordered it?

Surely not Reshma. The shock on her and her men’s faces had been real.

The Queen? Possible, if she was ruthless enough.

If not her, then it was either friends of Zock… or a particularly powerful band of brigands. Almost fifty strong? Unlikely.

My mood soured further. I hated the murky business of politics.

At least with engineering, the results were guaranteed, if only you could figure out the path.

“Your weapons are even more wondrous than the reports mentioned.” Reshma said.

I said nothing, but the bodies of the two men who had succumbed to their wounds made me want to arm the Nanoans. I didn’t think much of the their tactics; charging foolishly into the enemy. Judging by their expressions, they didn’t think much of ours either.

But the Nanoan weren’t blind. They kept eyeing the repeating crossbows with open curiosity. My men kept them close and their mouths shut.

We reached Nobart’s only major port town by nightfall, where an upscale Inn had been reserved for our use. Exhausted from our ordeal, I wanted to fall into the sweet embrace of sleep, but etiquette and politics required that I dine with the lady. So I cleaned myself and put on a new set of clothes.

I had pulled my mask the moment we entered the town. A grieving relative of one of the high ranking victims of the Battle of the Bog recognizing me would complicate matters more than they already were. I would breathe freely once we were out of the County.

I came into the dining hall wearing it, only to find it empty save for our entourage.

Reshma smiled faintly as I sat opposite her. The candlelight softened her features. A steaming hot dish was placed in front of us. I couldn’t help but make a face at the roasted fish.

Reshma didn’t fail to notice. “My apologies, Your Excellency. I was told it’s their specialty. Shall I order something else?”

“It is fine. We had some trouble with the harvest last season and had to rely on fishing a bit more than usual. The ghost of that taste still lingers on my tongue.”

I stabbed it with a fork and took a bite, expecting for the same flavor. Rich, crisped skin. Spicy, garlicky, and a just a bit sour. Delectable. Amazing what you could do with the same ingredients when you had a few seasonings.

Will need to buy some.

Her shoulders eased when she saw my reaction.

For a time, we ate in relative quiet. The tension slowly thawed under the warm food and lighting.

Her gaze drifted to the window, then back to me; calculating again, but softer. “Your Excellency… may I ask why did you call the first encounter between our people a tragedy?” she asked gently.

“Many men died who didn’t have to.”

“At the hands of your men.”

I met her gaze. Steady eyes gazed back.

“We did not provoke them. Count Zock made his own choice. We only defended ourselves.”

“In well-prepared positions.”

I suppressed a smile. The Queen indeed had capable investigators, and wanted me to know.

“It’s not a crime to fortify one’s borders.” I replied.

“Why would the Count attack you?”

“That,” I whispered, “is a discussion only for the Queen’s ears.”

She accepted the answer with a knowing smile.

“If I may,” I asked, “how did a lady of Sindhu manage to become the aide to the Queen of Nanon?”

Her lips curved mischievously, “Ah. that is quite a tale.” She popped a morsel of fish into her mouth, refusing to elaborate.

I stopped myself from sending a glare her way, but a smile managed to escape.

In a different life, we indeed could have been friends, and maybe even more.

In this one, the game was already in motion. The board was set.