Chapter Thirty-Six: The Expedition to Als (Part One)

With the spring plowing just concluded, Andermatt Fortress on the eastern border of Tynetz County had transformed into a massive military camp. Heraldic banners fluttered from the wooden palisades, and the interior was crowded with military tents and crackling campfires.

Ever since Arls Fortress was forcibly seized by mountain bandits last autumn, Baron Antias had not enjoyed a single peaceful night. The disgrace of losing territory was burden enough, but the loss of a knight’s life had made punishment inevitable. If he could not reclaim Arls Fortress quickly, his tenure as a hereditary baron would be at an end. Thus, as soon as the plowing finished, he summoned all the knights of his fiefdom to gather at Andermatt Fortress with their soldiers.

By now, including the household knight Druid, there were five knights, eight squires, and over sixty peasant soldiers brought by the knights. Additionally, Antias had handpicked fifteen sturdy young farmers from his direct demesne to serve as his own fortress guard.

Merchants and petty liquor vendors from various villages and manorial settlements had also flocked to Andermatt. Naturally, the women who made their living by the flesh were not absent either. The already cramped Andermatt Fortress was now in a state of chaotic congestion. People arriving from all directions were cooking and relieving themselves inside and outside the walls; the fort, which already reeked, had become a giant pigsty.

...

Inside the lord’s hall of the stone fortress, a council of war was underway.

Baron Antias did not waste words, cutting straight to the point: "The reason I have summoned you all is to reclaim Arls Fortress. You all know the situation; it has been nearly half a year since last autumn. Even if those old fools at court were deaf, they would know by now that Arls has been occupied by bandits. We must take it back before the court’s inquiries arrive, or none of us will fare well."

A knight with thick eyebrows and a yellow beard asked, "My Lord, you attempted to take Arls several times last year; why were you unsuccessful?"

Realizing the impropriety of his question, he quickly added, "My Lord, I meant no offense to your dignity."

Antias waved his hand dismissively. "Last year, I intended to reclaim Arls quietly, but I underestimated the combat prowess of those bastards. I was turned back twice at the gates. This time, I have summoned you all to take Arls in one decisive stroke."

Another keen-eyed, middle-aged knight asked in a deep voice, "My Lord, have you ascertained the number of bandits in Arls, and whether they have reinforcements?"

Antias glanced at the knight, whose name was Chloe, and replied, "Before the winter chill arrived last year, I sent scouts. The number of bandits in the fort had increased to about forty, but we do not know if there are more in the bandit nest within the Bore Mountains."

"Forty? And possibly more?" The middle-aged knight frowned. "My Lord, we have a total of only seventy or eighty men, half of whom are farmers who can barely hold a sword, and the rest have not seen battle for years. With this force, attacking such a large and exceptionally brutal group of bandits will be difficult." Having experienced war in his youth, he knew the true capability of this hastily assembled army.

The other knights murmured in agreement.

Antias raised a hand to silence them. "I know the situation is dire, but you are all brave and fearless knights. Protecting the innocent is a holy mission bestowed upon you by God; how can you lose the courage to overcome the devil just because he is strong?"

The men bowed their heads in silence.

Antias knew these noble platitudes were hollow. He looked at them and said in a low voice, "If we can retake Arls, I will waive half of your taxes and corvée labor for this year. Once the fortress is captured, I will distribute half of the spoils as a military reward. Furthermore, I have hired an elite troop to assist in the crusade; they should be on their way to Andermatt already."

Hearing of tangible benefits and additional reinforcements, the knights raised their heads, promising to drill their men diligently and secure victory.

Watching the knights depart, the household knight Druid spat on the floor. "A bunch of money-grubbing bastards."

"Enough, Druid. There is no such thing as a free lunch. If we cannot take back Arls, all the wealth we save now will simply be inherited by the noble who replaces us." As he spoke, he remembered the source of that saying and turned to Druid. "Do you think that Warden will really come to help?"

...

"I'm afraid we can't count on him this year. Look, there's nothing out there but refugees and outlaws; you won't see a single merchant on that road."

On the road to Andermatt, Otto followed Atre, discussing the setting up of toll checkpoints on the southern border. He felt that Baron Pierre’s promise to allow them to collect one year of entry duties on the border was complete nonsense.

"Indeed, it is impossible to collect commercial taxes this year. We will have to wait until next year or the year after. Wars always end, and trade routes will eventually flourish," Atre said.

"But Baron Pierre only authorized us to collect taxes for one year..."

Atre smiled. "Is that so? Then when the time comes, we will stop collecting entry duties and start collecting 'border security taxes.' We don't need the Baron's permission for that—as long as our swords are sharper than those of the merchant guards."

At this moment, Ron rode back from the main road. "My Lord, the path ahead is clear. We are three miles from Andermatt Fortress."

"Good, keep scouting." Atre turned to the border patrol soldiers behind him and ordered, "Halt and rest. We camp at Andermatt tonight."

...

In Andermatt, a rider galloped into the city to report an army approaching from the west. Panic ensued, particularly among the farmers and merchants outside the walls, who assumed the bandits were attacking. They all scrambled into the safety of the fortress.

When the household knight Druid arrived at a hill west of Andermatt with a few cavalrymen, they saw an army in black cloaks led by a rider approaching them. Shortly after, two more riders joined the formation.

"Atre? The Warden."

Recognizing the silhouette, Druid muttered to himself, then told a cavalryman, "Go back and tell the Baron that Warden Atre has arrived with his troops."

Druid then spurred his horse to meet them, welcoming Atre personally.

Atre did not move his patrol into the fortress, opting instead to set up camp in an open field outside. He posted four sentry points around the perimeter—not out of fear of an ambush, but because he did not trust the undisciplined conscripts and farmers.

That evening, Baron Antias hosted a banquet for the leaders of the forces gathered for the crusade, and Atre was invited as the leader of the patrol. Large platters of beef and mutton were served, and tankards of ale and beer flowed freely. The stone hall was filled with boisterous enthusiasm.

A composed-looking middle-aged knight set down his wooden cup, maneuvered past the drunken revelers, and sat next to Atre at the end of the table. "You are the Warden the Baron spoke of?"

Atre set down his cup and looked at the tall, bearded knight. "My Lord, I am Atre Wood Wells, the Southern Border Warden."

"Atre Wood Wells? No title?"

"That is correct. I am merely a civilian official."

"Is that so? Yet, looking at the troops you brought, you do not seem like a commoner without a noble background." The knight was skeptical of how a common official could train such a force, especially one with a surname that sounded noble.

Atre shrugged.

The knight raised his cup. "I am Chloe de Bourbon, from the Pannington Estate."

"You are of the Bourbon family? The Son of the Eagle?" Atre had heard of this illustrious house.

"Oh, yes. I am honored to be a member of this family, though my family certainly does not feel honored by my presence..." There was a hint of resentment in the knight's words.

Atre spoke little during the banquet, sitting quietly at the end of the long table, listening to the knights talk of wild boars hunted, women bedded, battles fought, and crude jokes told. Apart from Baron Antias offering a polite toast, only Sir Chloe approached him. It was not that the knights looked down on Atre, but a matter of noble posturing—a point on which these rough men were always quite meticulous.

Outside the fortress, another banquet was underway.

Baron Antias had generously provided the patrol with several large cuts of pork and a barrel of ale. Otto had the men stew a pot full of onions and pork, and everyone shared in the drink.

When they returned to the camp, the soldiers had already turned in. After checking the sentry posts, Atre gathered Otto and the others for a council.

"Good," Atre said, seeing that his men were not drunk. "You have kept your vigilance. From the moment we left the valley fort, we must maintain the mindset that we could encounter, repel, or attack the enemy at any moment. I allow the soldiers to relax, but I will not tolerate the slightest slack from you officers."

They nodded in affirmation.

Atre produced a rough map of Arls Fortress, drawn based on Lawrence’s description. "Baron Antias has ordered the army to depart Andermatt at sunrise the day after tomorrow."

"Currently, there are six units gathered at Andermatt, totaling about one hundred men. Excluding the garrison guard, this crusade consists of five knights, eight squires (including four archers), twenty fortress guards (including six archers), sixty-two peasant soldiers, and our twenty-one patrolmen. A total of one hundred and fourteen men, including fifteen cavalry. The entire force is under the command of Baron Antias."

"In the order of march, we are the third unit, positioned behind Sir Chloe’s troops."

"If we are to storm the fortress, the Baron’s guards and the knights will be the first wave; we are the main assault force of the second wave. If we meet them in the open field, we will serve as the left flank."

"Now, here is the specific deployment for our patrol..."