Disclaimer: This is not the final version as it will be available from the usual e-book sellers and eventually, bookstores. Rather, it should be seen as an (almost) final draft. If you are interested in becoming a beta reader, or you have any comments, suggestions or thoughts that you feel I should consider before publishing please drop me a line using the contact form.
Sword School
Aubree was less amused to learn about the sword-fighting deal when she eventually found out, later in the evening. Ala would have preferred if Bernard hadn’t mentioned it at all. Aubree understood that the headstrong Ala wasn’t to be put off, even though she couldn’t understand why it was important to her. The two of them were long past the stage where Aubree felt like she had any right to make such decisions for her. Aubree had accepted that Ala was not the same as as a normal human child and that the rules simply shouldn’t be applied as they would be for a human teenager. That understanding always made Ala very happy, even if it regularly caused Aubree some distress. It helped that it was Bernard who was going to be doing the teaching. Aubree seemed to trust him, despite him having been away for decades.
Sword fighting was not something girls were supposed to do as far as Aubree was concerned, but between the soft spots for Bernard and Ala, she made her peace with it quickly. She limited her disapproval to the occasional worried frown. Unlike most of the adults in Thetwick, Aubree actually listened to Ala when she was serious about something. Aubree was the only human in the village who seemed to have some concept of just how many years of experience Ala had compared to the village’s humans and she often deferred to Ala on matters of knowledge or experience.
At the end of the evening Bernard told Ala to be at the Council Hall in the centre of town after breakfast the next day. She went home with Aubree who shared a warm hug with Bernard. It lingered for just a little longer than was strictly necessary, Ala thought and she saw that their hands took even longer to part. Bernard then proceeded to hug Ala, which was a little alarming to her. Other than Aubree and Palady, the people of Thetwick had always avoided touching her. The contact was nice though. Friendly. There were no ulterior motives. It really was just a friendly hug. She liked it. They turned away to walk home. After a few hundred yards, Aubree spoke, as Ala had expected she would.
“So young lady, sword fighting?”
Ala shrugged, “I’m happy I finally found someone who can teach me.”
“Oh… I shouldn’t really be surprised. You’ve always been going on about it, making wooden swords and things. I remember you talking about it even when I was little.”
“I don’t know… it’s just fascinating. I want to learn.”
“Well you’ve learned most everything else we have in Thetwick. Maybe it was inevitable. It’s still very strange to me though. Not proper for a woman. But then… who knows what the women of your people always did, eh? Maybe it’s in your blood and more proper for you to learn it than not to learn it. Beyond my experience, if we’re being honest, isn’t it?”
Ala was always impressed when Aubree took a moment to reflect on her behaviour. She always arrived at more or less the same conclusion. She didn’t feel she was knowledgeable enough to say how a half-elf should behave, so she let Ala follow her whims with only a little grumbling and a bit more confusion.
The next morning, Ala was waiting when Bernard appeared at the Council Hall. She had been there for quite a while, having risen at dawn and grabbed some old bread and cheese that she’d quickly toasted over the fire after she’d coaxed it back to life. She’d eaten it on the way to the council hall. The hall was a long building built out of stone and the local logs with a slate roof and a square stone combined bell and watch tower at the back end. She’d been waiting here since dawn as she didn’t really sleep, not in the way that humans did anyway. It was another of her secrets that she thought it best not to draw attention to. Aubree and Palady had noticed that she rested a little differently from humans of course, but they’d always assumed that half elves just needed a lot less sleep than humans did.
What she did was more meditation than sleeping. Her perception of her surroundings didn’t disappear like it did for humans. She could do it sitting comfortably as well as lying down. She’d never tried standing or riding, but she had an inkling that that might be possible too with a little practice. Staying aware of her surroundings in a way that a sleeping human never could was a useful perk. Meditation was what she’d started calling it since sister Deirdre at the school had explained what that was. She started to get up to walk over to Bernard but he cheerfully gestured for her to stay where she was.
“Just bear with me a moment Ala, we’ll start something in just a bit. Need to get things organised first, it’ll just be a moment.”
Her attention stayed focused on Bernard as he walked right around to the rear of the building and loudly rang the big bell that was installed there. It was only supposed to be used to call the militia, or if there was something truly dangerous like a fire in town. It was really only for emergencies. Ala was shocked. The bell had not only not been rung in alarm for years, ringing it could even be a hanging offence if done without proper reason. Sure enough, she could soon see the Constable come running from the direction of his home within a minute or two. This time he had brought his halberd, which doubled as the second part of his badge of office as Constable. He looked dishevelled, as if he had come straight out of bed.
Ala didn’t expect the villagers to promptly answer the muster call. Some of them would have to come in from the surrounding fields and everyone would need to get their equipment too. To her surprise a few men were coming at a fair run, some of them still pulling on gambesons or other armour as they came. Most of the men just walked though, many without the weapons and armour they were supposed to bring. It was almost like they wanted to see what was happening before they bothered. The villagers slowly filed onto the field in groups. Many were missing their spears, shields or their gambesons or what they were wearing was no longer recognisable as armour. A lot of the metal was rusted, leather was torn and almost everything looked to be in poor condition.
It looked to Ala as if only a few of them bothered to keep their equipment in good order. There were a handful of men that actually turned up with the equipment they were supposed to have at hand. Ala wasn’t completely sure, but she thought everyone was supposed to at least have a gambeson, a spear and a shield as a bare minimum. The men who had a complete panoply were mostly the same ones whose equipment looked well maintained. Some of them had also brought different weapons like swords and crossbows and one young man even had a longbow though he didn’t appear to have brought any arrows. Ala wasn’t exactly sure what the militia charter said about that.
By the time there was a group that might, with some goodwill, be called a muster, the Constable had been arguing with Bernard for some time. The Constable wanted to arrest him, but the men who normally provided his muscle, two bullies, brothers by the names of Jed and Bruce Samsson, were nowhere to be seen. They were of the age that they were obligated to answer the militia’s call, just like everyone else. Ala hadn’t seen them yet, she wondered if they were still trying to gather their equipment.
Ala watched all this going on from the side of the square, keeping well back from the concentrations of villagers. Bernard yelled at the Constable. He was, finally, out of patience.
“Shut up, man! Stop babbling and listen. I called the muster by the Duke’s command.”
Ala was awed. She hadn’t realised Bernard had actually met the Duke himself. That immediately seemed silly to her. He had served for decades. Of course he would have met him.
“You come in here all high and mighty, ‘retired’ from the glorious Duke’s regiment and think you can just do what you want!”
“I do what the Duke has charged me with, cretin.”
“It’s onto the gallows with you! Ringin’ the bell unjustly is a hangin’ offence. I’ll be rid of you right soon!”
The Constable seemed pleased at that and stepped forward. Even Ala could see he was planning to prod Bernard with his halberd. Bernard didn’t even bother to draw his sword. Ala didn’t exactly see what happened next but when the dust had settled the result was that Bernard had the halberd with its spike at the Constable’s throat, who was lying with his back on the ground.
“Now. Like I was saying Constable, you’re one of the Marchmains, aren’t you? Roger, isn’t it? Told you I’d remember eventually.”
The constable just glared at him.
“Well Roger, if you’d just calm down for a moment and go and get our friend the scribe, I have another document for you to peruse. I’ll just hold on to this rusty halberd of yours until you return. Up you get, go on.”
The Constable warily climbed to his feet and left, Bernard watching him in case he tried anything else. By the time the last members of the muster had finally arrived, the village scribe had also been summoned and found his way to the square. Ala wasn’t sure whether it was the Constable’s doing or whether he had just come to see what was going on. A small crowd of women, children and old men had now also gathered to see what all the fuss was about. Jed and Bruce had also turned up with piecemeal equipment and were surveying the scene nervously, shortly followed by the Constable’s return. The man was scowling evilly at Bernard the whole time.
Bernard carefully produced another document, also with an ornate wax seal in the bottom right corner, from his scroll case and handed it to the scribe, who examined it for a minute with the occasional serious faced glance at Bernard.
“It’s probably best if you read it out to everyone, Scribe Theodore.”
Theodore nodded and turned to the assembled villagers. He cleared his throat and read out the scroll in what Ala always thought of as his ‘proclamation voice’.
I, Ivan, Duke of Taladaria, Marchioness of the Westmarch, do hereby order that Bernard Alanson of Thetwick, retired Sergeant-Major-at-Arms of the Regiment that I am charged to maintain by my Lord the King of Iurrak, is commissioned as Captain of the Westmarch Militia. The militia Captain of the Westmarch, henceforth to be referred to as ‘the Captain’, is, as is customary and hereby reaffirmed, senior to the village elders’ and their assigned Lieutenant in all matters related to the defence of the Westmarch, Taladaria and Iurrak.
It has come to my attention that the quality of the Westmarch Militia is in no way sufficient. In order to evaluate and improve the readiness of his militia the Captain is authorised and directed to call the militia by any means and at any frequency he deems necessary, as if by order of the Duke of Taladaria himself. Captain Bernard Alanson is authorised to extend this right to a person or persons of his choosing with or without limitation.
With all possible haste, Captain Bernard will train able bodied inhabitants of the Westmarch, men and women both. He will bring the Militia’s strength up to at least one hundred souls, bearing shields, chain hauberks, padded armour or gambesons, longbows as well as long spears and swords. Archers and cavalry will be outfitted as the Captain sees fit. The strength of the company will be distributed between archers, spear men and cavalry with horses provided by the people of Westmarch when they are needed for action or training as they are obligated to in service of their Lord’s needs. Members of the militia may bear arms during militia practice and in all cases where Captain Bernard deems it necessary in the interests of the Westmarch, the Duchy of Taladaria and the Kingdom of Iurrak.
So it is decreed.
Ivan de Duilhac, second of his name
Duke of Taladaria, Marchioness of the Westmarch, etcetera, etcetera…
Declared upon this first day of Wogekind,
This 944th year of the 19th millennium
When the Scribe had finished reading the proclamation, Bernard glanced over at the Constable, who now stood glaring at a safe distance.
“So, any questions Constable? I believe you are also the town council’s assigned Lieutenant are you not? You’re supposed to be in the muster formation, aren’t you? Better get moving, don’t you think? Where’s your armour? Be sure to have it upon next muster.”
He tossed the halberd back to the Constable, who fumbled catching it.
“Make certain that weapon receives proper care from now on, Lieutenant. I don’t want to see as much as a speck of rust on it, understand?”
The Constable just continued to glare at him. Bernard turned away from him and looked over his messy lines of villagers.
“Westmarch Militia! Attennn-tion!” Bernard roared.
The villagers made an attempt to stand up straight. Bernard continued.
“As you have just heard. I am your Captain,” Bernard roared. “I decide when any member of the militia is, or is not, on duty. When you are given an order, assume you are on duty and follow that order promptly and to the best of your ability!”
Bernard left a long pause to let what he said sink in.
“Make no mistake, fellow Thets, I take my duty to the Duke very seriously. We will become the finest militia company from here to the Castle Peyrepertuse, so help me Wotan! Westmarch! At ease!”
The villagers all sagged a little. Next, Bernard looked the scribe over, his expression thoughtful. He too was a man in his late thirties. Ala could guess what Bernard was thinking.
“Why aren’t you in the muster Scribe Theodore?” The scribe looked shocked.
“Me? Well, I’m a scribe… err… Captain. Scribes aren’t in the muster.”
“You look like a man of fighting age to me. That means you’re in the muster. Trust me, I’ve had reason to re-read the statute.”
The scribe looked worried… “but… I’ve never… I don’t have…”
“Don’t worry Master Theodore, it’s not a problem. We need a literate quartermaster. I need an inventory of weapons and armour, you can get me that by tomorrow morning I think? We will muster again at dawn. Now, isn’t there supposed to be an armoury in the Elders’ Hall? Make sure you inventory its contents as well. Get someone to help you if necessary. Ala reads, if you need someone literate.”
Ala was a little shocked that she was being volunteered for things, but quickly decided it was all fine with her as long as she got to learn about swords.
Once Bernard had found out who was supposedly doing which job in his militia company, he made changes. Most of the men had no idea what their job was meant to be. Next he marched the men off to the drill field, which was a piece of open ground on the outskirts of town that was supposed to be set aside for the Duke. It was directly owned by the Duke and no one was permitted to build or farm on it, other than grazing herds. As they marched off, he called to Ala.
“If our deal’s still on, you’d better form up, Ala.”
She looked at him, open mouthed, then quickly made up her mind and scurried after the formation to walk with the militia. The other villagers looked surprised, exchanging glances, but decided to shut up rather than risk Bernard’s wrath. When they got to the exercise field, which was looking quite overgrown, Bernard started organising into three groups, asking each man a few questions before telling him which group to join. She quickly found Bernard.
“What do you want Ala?” He said gruffly…
“Sorry Bernard, but am I not too young for the militia? Also… I am…”
“A woman? I noticed. We had this chat yesterday. You’re older than any of the men here and the Duke has long since accepted women into his regiments, if they make the grade. I’ll grant that it’s rare, but it’s perfectly legal. Now shut up and get in line. Uhm… you know horses, right?”
She nodded, not really knowing what else to do.
“Go over there, that group. Move it!”
He’d sent her towards the smallest group. It looked to her like Bernard was sending the hunters and other bowmen to one group, the ones who knew horses were the group she was meant to join and all the others were simply lumped in the largest group together.
Most of the villagers in her group looked strangely at her even though she knew most of the horse breeders and their older sons, at least a little. She was on quite good terms with them and she knew she was seen as useful help, especially when dealing with unruly steeds. In the context of the militia, however, it was obviously strange to them for her to be there. Today was a strange day in more ways though, so no one made any comments. She did see some whispers being exchanged among them. When Bernard was finished sorting the groups he stepped into the middle once again.
“Remember your groups. As you heard when the Scribe read the Duke’s order, we are charged with providing Archers…”
He pointed at the group with the hunters.
“…Cavalry…”
That was Ala’s group.
“…and Infantry.” He pointed at the remaining largest group.
“Remember your group. Now, since all of you need to know at least a little about soldiering, we will start with the basics with all groups together.”
Bernard spent two hours running them through basic marching exercises to begin with, which she did as well as she could. The villagers were severely out of practice. After that, the militia was dismissed, with Bernard’s warning to pass the word that anyone who had missed muster this morning, for whatever reason was pardoned, but that he would not be so lenient the next day.
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