Punitive Strike
Many things happened in Korelia after the war. Tending to the wounded was a top priority, followed by burial and mourning. On behalf of the Lord, his retinue had dedicated several places as hospices in town to treat the wounded.
Following yesterday’s battle, Three Hills and Korelia agreed to mend relations. Thus, they were technically at peace. The war had ended.
Despite the grand scale of the fire tactics that scorched the western plains, casualties were surprisingly limited. The majority of those who died directly from the fire were already wounded from the battle or had been injured during the chaotic retreat.
The low casualties were by design. The Lord of Korelia’s strategy was to incite panic and rout, not fire entrapment. From the start, the main goal was to capture or destroy the encampment, particularly its supplies and baggage train. No army could survive without them and would be forced to accept a truce.
As luck would have it, most of the high-ranking members of the Three Hills survived the battle. Many of their nobles and famed Black Knights were captured alive. This favorable situation undoubtedly would pave the way for the two Houses to improve relations.
In the midst of this, the arrival of Nicopolan mercenaries presented an unnecessary political twist to House Lansius.
***
Lansius
Sigmund stood in the hall of the Eastern Mansion, the sun still shining softly as he finished his report. “… They wish to present you three Korimor knights, five South Hill knights, and six squires, as a token of goodwill.”
Not surrendering but pledging allegiance...?
Lansius contemplated while massaging his left arm. His fractured wrist was covered in a wooden splint bandage.
Thirty Nicopolan mercenaries and fifteen horses, small but not insignificant.
While he could attack these Nicopolan and take their horses, chances were he could make better use of them. After all, information and knowledge were paramount.
And information from those who submitted tended to be more reliable, and since they were mercenaries, if Lansius captured them, nobody would pay their ransom.
Sitting at Lansius’ side, Audrey calmly watched her future husband pondering the matter. Only when he snapped out of it did she comment, “If they intend to switch sides, there shouldn’t be a problem.”
Lansius felt slightly at ease with her words. He had no qualms about former opponents joining him; in fact, the art of war suggested: ‘To capture the enemy’s entire army is better than to destroy it; to take intact a regiment, a company, or a squad is better than to destroy them.’
Thankfully, it seemed that even in this world, switching sides after a war wasn’t a big deal. “We need to be certain... Let’s entice them with supplies and the promise of freedom so we can gauge their reaction. After all, they’ve already given us the knights and squires,” Lansius remarked.
Sir Harold, sitting at the next table, chuckled upon hearing that. “Enticing mercenaries with supplies, I’d love to see that,” he said, shaking his head in amusement.
Lansius grinned at his knight’s comment. “It might be pointless, but I need to know just how much loyalty I can expect from them.”
“The loyalty of the Nicopolan free company is to their profit,” Sir Harold commented.
“Profit is something tangible and easy to measure. I can live with that. I doubt anyone here would stay if I couldn’t pay for your upkeep.”
Harold chuckled again. “It hurts my pride a little, but I guess that’s the truth. But, My Lord, don’t lump me in with those Nicopolans.”
“My apologies, I didn’t mean that,” said Lansius without hesitation.
Grinning at the Lord’s sincere reaction, the knight rose and bowed his head slightly. “Please, My Lord, it’s just me and my mouth. You don’t have to.”
Audrey just smiled, enjoying their banter. To her, Sir Harold was a welcome addition to House Lansius, although she wasn’t sure if he was going to stay.
Harold’s knightly values were clear: to perfect his swordsmanship through training and battles. As such, he traveled from one conflict to another, seeking Lords worthy of his service.
Turning her attention to Sigmund, the subordinate who had become an aide, as there were many still recovering from the battle, Audrey asked, “Sigmund, would that be all?”
Sigmund readily replied, “My Lord, the deputy wanted to know whether to let them all in, which he suggested not to, or just inviting a few.”
“Mm, the arrangement,” Lansius murmured. He had no intention of letting them in as it would pose an unnecessary risk. “Allow her in with a retinue. The rest can camp outside the wall. Give them some of our spare tents.”
“Arrange for some guards,” suggested Audrey to Lansius. “I recommend Carla. She had little role in the previous battle.”
Lansius nodded. He knew Carla had guarded Felicity and thus had not been credited much. “Yes, let’s task her.”
“Anything else? Audrey asked Sigmund.
“Just one more thing, My Lord, when do you plan to meet her?”
Audrey looked at Lansius, who decided, “Soon, but not today... What’s her name again?”
“Lady Daniella. The herald informed me that the Lady is the daughter of a nobleman in Nicopola.”
Lansius rubbed his chin. “A nobleman’s daughter turned mercenary?”
“There was a ballad written about a fierce woman mercenary,” Sigmund said, almost too happy to answer.
Lansius was amused. “Can you play that ballad at supper time?” he asked while glancing at his future wife.
“Only if it ends well," she warned as their eyes met.
Sigmund smiled and bowed his head. “Most certainly, My Lord and my lady,” he said and departed from the hall to relay the messages to the Marshal and deputy.
The hall returned to a temporary silence as they waited for lunch. Unlike during a campaign, members of the nobility only dine twice - at lunch and supper. They had a little breakfast in their room, usually leftover from yesterday’s meal.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Thus, during court sessions, an assortment of white bread, meat, and cheese was served on small platters, accompanied by a selection of fruits and beverages. Contrasting with the Great Hall, the mansion’s hall bathed in warm sunlight streaming in through its numerous windows, creating an enjoyable ambiance.
“What do you think about this Lady Daniella?” Lansius asked his knight while in between eating a salty slice of meat with bread, Korelia’s specialty.
Sir Harold took his drink before replying, “Well, she might have been a bastard, disowned, or disinherited. It happens all the time. Also, the Nicopolans have such tendencies to make a free company to live like nobles.”
Lansius recalled the opulent manor of Sabina Rustica. His thoughts then returned to the issue at hand - whether to accept or reject the Nicopolan allegiance. Eager to discuss this matter with his most trusted advisors, he asked, “Have Calub and his men returned?”
“They should be here around midday since they need to finish a patrol and pack up the yurts,” answered Harold.
“Let me know when they arrive, I need to talk to him and Sir Callahan about this.”
Without missing a beat, Sir Harold answered, “Certainly, My Lord.”
They were still keeping the news of Sir Callahan’s death from Lansius. This was also why Cecile was missing from the Lord’s side. Fortunately, the Lord didn’t question her absence, as they were preoccupied with moving from the castle.
Even now, the staff was busy moving necessary goods and furniture to the Eastern Mansion. The reason was more than just to follow the Lord around. It was because the castle’s halls were being used for intensive care. With patients, physicians, and infirmarians running back and forth, the atmosphere was chaotic and gruesome.
Throughout the night, the castle echoed with painful cries, random screams, and sobs. Even with the help of Calub’s stock of painkillers, there wasn’t enough for everyone. Thus, Lansius had agreed to bring the younger staff with him.
However, since the move was abrupt and unplanned, the mansion was still being cleaned and furnished. They occupied a different section from the one occupied by Sir Justin and Hugo.
At this time, the Marshal and Deputy had established their headquarters in the Billet complex. They needed to keep a close eye on the captured men to prevent any issues.
Audrey was peeling a red costard fruit when she recalled an earlier conversation. “My Lord, earlier you wanted to ask about Lord Jorge,” she reminded him.
“Ah, that’s right. Sir Harold, have you met with Lord Jorge’s liaison officer?”
“Yes, I have. I assure you that he’s pleased we provided enough supplies for them to camp out. He also expressed gratitude for returning some of their belongings.”
“What belongings?” inquired Audrey.
“Nothing significant. Just blankets and spare clothes. I think we can treat them that much for the sake of diplomacy,” explained Lansius.
“I see... Well, it’s good to know that the carts I captured are truly useful.” Her voice was laced with sarcasm.
Lansius stifled a laugh. “A blessing in disguise,” he muttered.
Audrey pouted slightly. “Yet you still cut my pay.”
Lansius looked at her and gently said, “Rules are rules. Please don’t do that again.”
She sighed and smiled naughtily. “Only two carts for your dowry then.”
“Eh, but I gave you three?” he argued.
“One is for my savings.”
Lansius chuckled and applauded her. “That’s smart. Good for you.”
“Two baggage carts to marry a Baron,” Sir Harold chuckled. “The skald is going to write a ballad about this.”
“Technically, I’m not yet a Baron,” Lansius quipped, and then to Audrey, he joked, “Please say three and full of silver. Otherwise, you’ll ruin my reputation.”
However, Audrey was taking it seriously. “I told you, being a concubine is better. That way, I don’t have to pay a dowry.”
Sir Harold snorted, trying hard not to laugh. Their conversation was light, and the hall remained calm and serene. Beyond their banter, the only other sounds were the gentle wind and the chirping of birds from the garden outside. Slowly, the heavy memories of yesterday’s battle were fading from their minds.
***
In the Eastern Mansion, lunch was served without much fanfare, as House Lansius' retinues were preoccupied with managing the aftermath of the war. Only Lord Lansius, Audrey, Sir Justin, Margo, and a small team of young staff and servants were present.
The affair felt intimate, almost private. Neither Felicity nor Hannei were present, both were busy with their own business.
As they brought their own cook, the food tasted the same. The atmosphere remained pleasant, almost a bit dull, with only some light banter and discussion. Only after lunch was over, Dietrich, a cavalryman pressed into a temporary aide, entered.
His presence in the hall immediately sparked tension. The Lord gestured for him to approach, and he stepped forward, reporting, “My Lord, Batu’s tribesman has arrived with a report.”
“Bring him in.” Lansius straightened his back in anticipation.
The tribesman, clad in looted armor, jogged to the scene. He admired the hall but quickly reported with a wide smile. “O Great Noyan, overnight, we’ve caught over a thousand men! Right now we’re sending them back to Korelia as you ordered.”
Noyan?
The new title made Lansius chuckle. “I’m pleased with the result. But tell me, since when am I a Noyan?”
The tribesman flashed his teeth. “My Noyan, you commanded at least several thousand people, including us. To us, you are our Noyan.”
Lansius was pleased. More than just an empty title, it was also a bond of honor and loyalty.
Complete victory…
He pondered for a moment before a realization dawned on him. Lansius saw an opportunity to advance his plans. In truth, the war wasn't over for him, and he couldn't help but consider the possibilities.
Meanwhile, Audrey was craving to ask, but her new position made her unable to react as usual, especially not in front of a guest, so she tried to motion Sir Harold.
The knight, ever perceptive, cleared his throat. “Pardon me, but what’s a Noyan?”
“The leader of ten thousand people, our protector, our chief, our lord,” the tribesman proudly announced.
Lansius could only shake his head at the title, while Audrey was smiling proudly.
Taking the opportunity while there was a lull, Sir Harold asked, “Is the hunt continuing?”
“Of course, there are still many stragglers to capture. But... what do you wish to do to them?” the tribesman asked curiously.
Sir Harold looked at Lansius eagerly. He too wished to know. To him, aside from the nobles who could be ransomed, the rest were just extra mouths to feed.
“Free labor,” Lansius mused. “They have to earn their freedom back. I’ll have them work on my building project.”
The messenger chuckled and bowed his head slightly while putting his hand upon his heart. “O Great Noyan, may you and Korelia always be prosperous under the Lowlandia skies.”
Lansius bowed his head a little as a sign of respect.
Audrey chimed in, “Please join us later for dinner.”
“My lady, leader Batu ordered me to return. He needs all his warriors to herd the captured men.”
“Then I shall send you away with baskets of food and drink,” said Lansius.
“That’ll be most welcome. Then, My Noyan, I shall take my leave.”
“A moment,” said Lansius. “What about the northern corridor? How is the condition over there?”
The tribesman happily replied, “Thanks to your great victory over the Nicopolans, the tribes living there can live in peace.”
Lansius nodded. The question seemed out of curiosity for the tribesmen’s well-being, but he had a different idea in mind.
Is it overreaching? But they should be weak, and the path is open...
“Have you ever been to Korimor?” Lansius asked. The innocent question didn’t raise suspicion. Only Audrey seemed to gaze sharply.
“Yes, My Noyan, I’ve seen its castle wall and city.”
“With so many of them attacking Korelia, how many do you think are manning the castle?”
Now, people started to pay attention. Something was brewing. Even the tribesman felt it. “Likely, no more than a hundred warriors.”
“How many days on horse to Korelia using the northern corridor?”
“Fast horses, 4 days. With baggage, 6 days. Carts and carriages around 16 to 20 days.”
Lansius pondered deeply, calculating the state of his troops, their remaining supplies, and what would be needed for a swift campaign to Korimor. He also couldn’t neglect the defense and supplies of Korelia.
The grain trade is yet to happen… Is this logistically feasible?
Lansius was reluctant to accelerate his plans, but he understood that in war, opportunity was king. Whoever failed to seize it was doomed to fail.
Since Baron Omin had struck first, Lansius now had a pretext for war. Nothing prevented him from launching a counterattack, and it would be considered legitimate.
This wasn’t about greed; it was about survival. Two castles, and two baronies – this would make Korelia more resilient.
The two baronies might be separated by distance, but there was little outside challenge since Three Hills was there to shield it. Korimor’s closest neighbors were Three Hills and Orniteia, the barony brought down by Midlandia last year.
“Opportunities multiply as they are seized,” Lansius murmured to himself, reaching a decision. He turned to Sir Harold and asked, “If we were to launch an expeditionary force to Korimor, who do you think should lead it?”
The Lord’s question confirmed everyone’s thoughts. The knight replied without hesitation, “The Marshal is bedridden. Then it should be the Deputy.”
Lansius needed to make sure. “You won’t take command?”
“I can assist, but I’m not familiar with commanding large numbers of men.” Despite his station, Sir Harold was sensible enough to respect the hierarchy of command.
“Very well then. Since opportunity arises...” Lansius addressed the room, “Change of plan! Invite Lady Daniella for supper. Dietrich, please inform Hugo that I wish to see him now. Tribesman, I would ask you to sit and wait a little. We may have a race on our hands.”
“A race, My Noyan?” he asked excitedly.
“Yes, either brother Batu finds Lord Omin first, or Hugo wins the Barony of Korimor. Each would be an equally extraordinary prize.”
***