Chapter 29: The Formation of the Team

Ten days later, Art arrived in the city of Tinetz, swaggering in with a dozen stalwart men clad in uniform black hooded cloaks.

In the Tinetz City Hall, Viscount Pierre stood by the window of his office, watching the border patrol soldiers in their matching black cloaks standing in neat formation in the square below. He turned to Art, who was seated on a wooden stool, and said, "My friend, you are more capable than I imagined. You actually managed to assemble this patrol troop in a single winter. They look even more formidable than the city’s own garrison guards."

Art adjusted his posture and replied to the Viscount, "My Lord, these are soldiers I have hand-picked; they all possess the courage and strength to suppress bandits and outlaws."

Viscount Pierre glanced at Art and then at Rohn, who stood ramrod straight behind him. "Very well. Go to the clerk as soon as possible to register your patrolmen. I will write to the Court Minister of Security to report the establishment of this unit. Furthermore, winter is coming to an end. The fighting between Provence and Lombardy in the south and central regions is still raging. To the east, the fortress of Vierno was recaptured by Duke Vladis last month, only to be seized again by Lombardy at the beginning of this month. Now, the flames of war in the east are spreading north. We will face even greater pressure from refugees, and the southern region of Tinetz will become even more chaotic. You must attend to your duties and use your patrol to maintain order in the southern territory."

Art nodded repeatedly, then tentatively broached the subject of money and supplies. "My Lord, there are over a dozen mouths in the patrol now waiting to be fed. If you would consider..."

Viscount Pierre sat back in his chair, tapping his right hand on the desk to cut Art off. "Enough. I do not want to hear your pleas of poverty, nor will I waste words with you. You have not disappointed me, so I will allocate you another five hundred pounds of grain, twelve hundred pennies for military pay, and three military tents."

Art was overjoyed and was about to express his gratitude when the Viscount continued, "Do not be happy too soon. My money and grain are not free! I need you to do something for me."

"Please, speak," Art said, straightening his posture.

"Last autumn, the fortress of Alsburg on the southeastern border was seized by a gang of bandits from the Bohe Mountains. Had I not caught a thief who escaped from Alsburg in Tinetz last month, I would never have known such a thing occurred. That bastard Antayas dared to hide such a grave matter—the loss of territory—from me. However, I cannot openly send troops to retake Alsburg, as the court and the Marquis would then learn of this failure. Therefore, I need you to act in my stead and help Antayas clean up this mess..."

...

Upon leaving the Viscount’s office, Rohn voiced his confusion regarding the Viscount's behavior. "My Lord, since Viscount Pierre already knows that Alsburg was captured by bandits, why not send his own troops or directly order Baron Antayas to muster soldiers to retake it? Why spend money to have us secretly assist the Baron? Can this really be hidden from the court?"

Art hooked his thumbs into his leather belt as they walked out of the lord's hall. "Viscount Pierre is a shrewd man. Since Baron Antayas did not formally report the matter of Alsburg, he will not take the initiative to inquire. If the court or the Marquis blame him in the future, he can claim that Baron Antayas kept him in the dark and that he was unaware. Even if he is implicated in the loss of territory, it is far better than knowing about it and doing nothing. Moreover, he cannot manage Alsburg right now; it is only nominally under his jurisdiction. The safety of Tinetz is his primary concern, which is why he is paying us to help retake it quietly."

"As for the grain and pay he gave us, he is killing two birds with one stone. The more resources we take from him, the more we must risk our lives for him. He will surely report to the court and Bishop Olof Hannis that the County of Tinetz provided great, selfless support to the patrol officer under extremely difficult circumstances."

"Damn, he’s cunning. These noble lords have guts more twisted than a housewife's loom..." Rohn couldn't help but curse.

"Enough, Rohn. At least we got something out of it. As for helping Antayas retake Alsburg, that was something we intended to do anyway. Being able to get grain and pay from Viscount Pierre for it is a bonus."

"The Viscount requires us to head to Andermatt Fortress before the spring plowing ends. I used the excuse that the new recruits need further training to request a fortnight of stationing in Tinetz. During these two weeks, our food supply will be covered by the city. Go store the supplies we brought ourselves along with those allocated by the county in the warehouse, then notify Odo to arrange for food and lodging."

Rohn went off to carry out the orders...

...

In the Tinetz barracks, inside a military tent meant for three, a few candles were lit. Art sat at the head of the floor mat, while Odo, Rohn, Bath, and Kazak sat below him.

"Have the soldiers been settled?" Art asked.

"My Lord," Rohn replied, "except for the sentries on duty, everyone else is asleep."

"Good. I called you here for this council because I am going to register the unit with the clerk tomorrow. Once registered, our patrol will be officially established. I intend to list you as officers. The court won't care about these so-called 'officers' now, and you won't get any benefits from it—after all, even my own position as Patrol Officer is temporary. But if the court ever grants rewards in the future, you may benefit from being recorded as officers."

"You were the first to follow me. Just this past winter, we brushed against death twice. The patrol is about to be established; from now on, we must be ready to fight bandits and outlaws at any moment. Your heads, like mine, are already hanging on the tip of a spear."

Art paused, then continued, "If we work with our lives on the line, there must be rewards worth dying for. When I grow stronger, I will not treat you poorly. But for now, we are small and weak, so I can only ensure you are fed and paid on time."

Odo and the others listened quietly, knowing Art was about to announce their temporary ranks and pay.

"For now, the patrol will be organized into squads, platoons, and companies. A squad consists of three men; two squads make a platoon; two platoons make a company, which I will command. I will not appoint squad leaders or platoon leaders yet. Including myself, there are fourteen men. Odo, Bath, and Kazak, each of you pick three recruits to train: Odo the first squad, Bath the second, and Kazak the third. The remaining recruit will serve as my guard under Rohn’s command. In two weeks, the four squads will compete, and I will appoint you based on your results and performance. As for pay, the ten recruits will receive ten pennies a week, and you four will receive fifteen. I will adjust the pay after the competition."

"For the next two weeks, focus on three things: personal combat skills, three-man formation tactics, and shield-wall maneuvers. These are the things you trained on in the valley fort all winter. The shield-wall is our primary tactic; you know the essentials. Now, show me if you can teach them to the recruits."

"Odo, besides training, you are in charge of logistics, sentry rotations, and provisions."

"Bath, you are in charge of discipline. Also, without my permission, no one is to enter or leave the camp. Don't provoke the garrison soldiers—they are looking for trouble since we took their quarters. But if anyone tries to force their way in, take them down."

"Does anyone have anything to say?" Art looked around the tent.

Rohn shifted, about to speak, but Art cut him off. "Rohn, I know what you want to say. We only have so many recruits, and you are slightly behind the others in personal combat and formation training. If you can train this recruit well, I will appoint you as a platoon leader just the same."

Hearing this, Rohn swallowed his grievances.

The next day, Art brought the clerk and his assistant to the camp. One by one, the officers and soldiers were registered, signing with a cross or a thumbprint. Art signed his own name at the bottom: Art Wood Wells. Finally, as the clerk stamped the parchment with the copper seal of Viscount Pierre’s ram crest, the Tinetz Border Patrol of the Duchy of Burgundy was officially formed. The document would be sent to the Court Minister of Security along with the Viscount's sealed letter.

For the next while, the sounds of recruits sparring and the thud of Odo and the others beating them with sticks echoed through the barracks. The same sticks that had once been used on them were now being used on the recruits.

Rohn watched Odo and the others training their three-man formations, while the guy in front of him hadn't even mastered holding a spear and shield. He shouted in frustration: "Jason, remember! The round shield must be held in front of your chest! It's to protect your chest and stomach, not to block your head! Keep your eyes on your opponent! The short spear rests on the top-right edge of the shield, held level! Level! Keep it level!"

"Oof!"

Rohn smacked Jason on the shoulder with a stick. Jason panicked, completely forgetting the technique. Rohn had to roar and teach the clumsy fellow, who was a year older than him, all over again...

...

On the first Sunday after the patrol was established, Art paid everyone and gave them a half-day off. Aside from Odo and a sentry, everyone else headed out.

In a shack leaning against the city wall at the Tinetz southeast market, a large clay pot boiled with animal offal and scraps. Four men in black hooded cloaks sat at a rickety wooden table. The tavern keeper served four large bowls of the stew and poured mugs of homemade cider.

A dark-skinned, sturdy fellow drank his cider in one gulp, grabbed a piece of boiled intestine from his bowl, and chewed it loudly. He mumbled to the glum-looking young man next to him: "Jas—Jason, I'd say you're lucky. Officer Rohn doesn't hit that hard."

Across from him, a flushed recruit agreed, "That's right, Jason. You saw how hard Officer Odo hit Tuba and me these past few days. Look at Tuba's arm..." He rolled up Tuba's sleeve, revealing bruises from the wooden sticks.

Jason looked at the black-and-blue marks, then rubbed his own shoulder. Compared to Tuba, his own grievances seemed minor. He relaxed and asked, "Where did the others go?"

The red-faced man grinned mischievously. "Oh, them? They went to the slums in the northeast to have some fun... those busty girls..."

The man spoke with such enthusiasm that Jason blushed.

These were the recruits from the patrol. With prices high in Tinetz, a mug of ale cost half a penny, and a meal could cost four. With their ten-penny weekly wage, they had found this cheap shack, spending less than two and a half pennies each for cider and fatty stew. They were already quite drunk.

While the recruits drank, Art, accompanied by Bath, Rohn, and Kazak, was hosting the Tinetz Arsenal Manager at the "Free Bull" inn.

The portly manager was already red-faced from the constant toasts. He raised his cup and shouted, "No question, Master Art! From now on, any weapons or supplies allocated to you, I will reserve the best for you."

Art clinked his cup against the manager's and whispered in his ear: "Manager Pete, if I were to order weapons and armor from Tinetz's blacksmiths and shops through the arsenal, would it be cheaper?"

The manager looked at Art with glazed eyes. "Master Art, the arsenal's order list is reviewed by Viscount Pierre himself. That... that is a bit difficult." He drained his cup.

Art signaled to Kazak, who filled the manager's cup again. "Who in Tinetz doesn't know Manager Pete's capability? If you want to do it, there's nothing you can't handle."

The manager, pleased by the flattery, took another large gulp. "Haha, you flatter me! But it's true, there really isn't anything in Tinetz I can't handle, provided you can offer a fair price..."

...

That night, the drunken manager didn't go home. Art paid the innkeeper six pennies to have a girl "take good care" of him. Art and his men returned to camp, belching from the wine.