Nick had spent the last seven days riding endlessly next to Claudia’s coach.

While he didn’t get the chance often to speak with her privately, she did find time to talk to him at least once every day. Each time she had questions about the life of a villager or peasant. Trying to take in from him as much as she could as quickly as she could.

Her questions were blunt and direct. Without tact or care in any way. Nick found that her style of questioning was great. It also made her incredibly easy to answer.

This was all despite the fact that Claudia’s ladies-in-waiting always looked rather shocked and aghast every single time their mistress spoke with him.

Beyond that, very little happened.

Nick had dinner with the troops, Claudia’s ladies in waiting ate with the house servants of the count, and Claudia supped with her father and brother. Ever onward the small army went toward the meeting point. Training and practicing as they went when they had the ability to do so.

All that changed on the eighth day. The army had only been on the march for an hour after dawn when the main encampment of the allied forces came into view.

They were all spread out on the plain before them. Except they weren’t encamped, they were lined up for battle. Drawn up in lines with their weapons ready.

Reserve forces were pulled up to the rear and there were banners flapping in the wind across the field. There was a small contingent near the back of the whole thing at the center that was watching over the field.

Messengers on horseback were racing up and down the counts column, moving past Nick at full speed. Likely alerting everyone to what was happening and what the expectations of their people were.

“What’s going on?” Claudia asked, pulling back the curtain to the window on the coach. Sitting forward in her seat she looked like she was about to hang out the window to look around.

“Allies forces up ahead,” Nick replied, moving Table closer. “They’re arraigned in what looks like battle formation. It’s possible we could end up in a fight today.

“Just as possible we won’t. Sometimes armies stare at each other for days on end before one or the other finally makes a move. Usually as things change around them.

“Like supplies, supply chain route, other armies incoming.”

“Or reinforcements arriving?” Claudia asked in a timid tone.

“Yeah, that’d be something that could kick off a fight,” murmured Nick. It was extremely possible that the enemy could attack before the count’s forces arrived. Trying to win a victory of sorts before the field was joined by ever more troops. “It’s not a guarantee or anything though, just a possibility.”

Claudia looked certain that she believed there would be a fight today. There would be likely nothing Nick could say that could sway her of that belief either.

“To be fair, Sire, I’m of the opinion that battle will likely commence before we get there, or just after,” said Lucian. “The enemy commander would do well to strike while we’re either trying to get in, or not there. If they give us time to reorganize, our line will get longer, and deeper. Our reserves would increase.

“If it were me, I would strike just as we join the line, or attempt to do so. If they try to put us anywhere other than the ends, they’ll have to disturb everyone. If they strike then, and at that point, it’d be far more likely to succeed.

“If we take a flank, we would be the weakest by virtue of only having just arrived. The soldiers have been marching for a considerable time and will be weaker.

“The best option for us, and the worst for the opponent, is to keep us in the reserve until needed. A reactionary tactic that gives away nothing.”

When we get to the point where we start having to wage wars and the like, you’re in charge of tactics and strategy, Gramps.

“Not a problem. It’s been my role for many of your anc— our family. To be sure, I have more experience than any living creature alive, I imagine,” Lucian said in a much softer tone.

“Okay,” Claudia said and then looked backward, then forward along the column. “Would you please ask someone to prepare my horse and… and my armor?”

She has armor? Huh.

“Of course, Miss,” Nick replied and then rode off. He could leave her be for a few minutes while he tended to her request. It would kill some time before they arrived, as well.

***

Standing at Claudia’s side Nick felt very out of sorts in the company he was in.

All around were full Knights, Magicians, Conjurers Warbows, Clerics, and Snipers. These were all great and admirable people who had almost reached the pinnacle of their classes. They’d surpassed the vast majority of the world and were in the ninetieth percentile.

Standing next to the Duke of Faas there was even an actual Axe-Lord. Someone who had reached their final class promotion. Someone who accounted for less than ten percent of the entire worlds population.

The vast majority of these great personages were body-guards and hired hands. Either through loyalty to their lord or being purchase, it didn’t matter.

As Nick and Claudia finished their approach, he got a better look at the Duke.

The man was past the midpoint of his life. His hair starting to go from light-brown to white. Pale brown eyes that were hard and small. His face was full of wrinkles and worries and likely a life spent in constant struggle.

“— take your troops and move to the left flank and remain in the reserve,” ordered the duke to the count. The latter having only just arrived seconds ago. “I’m ordering you to act as you see fit, so long as you don’t endanger the line that might cause it to collapse or fail.

“Otherwise you’re free to act. Do you have any questions? I also apologize, count, I would have liked to have a normal conversation with you but… as you see… we’re hard pressed already.”

The duke gestured out to the plain beside them even as he spoke.

Nick only had to glance that way to reconfirm what he already knew.

Lucian had been right but also wrong.

The enemy hadn’t waited to find out where the count would end up, they’d just decided to attack. Forcing the duke into a hasty deployment of his new forces while trying to prepare for the oncoming enemy army at the same time.

“I understand, duke. I have no questions, thank you,” the count said and promptly turned around practically before his entourage settled into place.

The nobility around the duke had been eying the count in an odd way when he approached. As if they weren’t quite sure what to make of him as a person.

That look only increased in intensity when the count left to rejoin this troops. Apparently they had never considered remaining with their own troops and thought it was off for the count to do so.

Charles was on the count’s right as they moved back toward their horses. Claudia on his left.

Nick and seven others trailed along behind the trio. All bodyguards in one way or another.

“Father, what unit do I get?” asked Charles in an excited tone.

“None. You get no-one,” said the count after glancing over his shoulder. As if to confirm he could speak freely. “You’ve lost the right after your recent behavior. Your sister will receive a unit where you will not. It’s time for her to start learning how to be a countess.”

“I… what!?” asked Charles in a rising voice. “How dare you—”

Spinning in place count Destis slammed a hand across Charles’ face. Slapping him so hard that the crack of the blow was loud in Nick’s ears.

While the count seemed to want to make sure no one could hear him, apparently he didn’t care if someone saw him slapping his son.

“How dare I?” hissed the count, leaning in close to his son. Grabbing him by his lapel he towered over his son. It was only in this moment that Nick realized that the count was actually closer to his own height. He wasn’t a small man.

“How dare I, the count, tell you what you have earned and haven’t earned from me?” growled the count, leaning so far forward he was practically bending Charles backward. “While I overlooked your misdeeds for a time, I’m afraid that period has come and gone. After the last one, where my honest and true Master Dal rightly cornered you I really looked into it.

“Rape, assault, and theft, is not how the county will be ruled. It is not how a count will hold themselves above his people. Not how someone in the family should and will behave.

“You’re lucky I don’t have you executed outright or completely stripped of your family name. As it is, when we return, you will serve a penance for your crimes. You’ll be placed under the brothers at the monasterium scriptura cloister for instruction. They will return you once they feel you’ve been… curbed… of your evil intentions.

“Your sister will be the next countess after me. I’ve already sent the appropriate paperwork to my liege the duke, as well as the king. There is no changing my mind as the deed is already done.”

Everyone had held their breath as the count spoke.

The man had acted far faster than Nick had even considered possible. Faster than even Lucian had hypothesized.

We underestimated him, perhaps?

“Indeed,” agreed Lucian.

The count shoved Charles backward from himself and then pointed at him.

“See his guards rounded up and placed in the army proper. Replace his bodyguards with people from my own ranks,” commanded the count. “Have him put under guard. Take no orders from him and give him no rights of his rank. If he attempts to leave the field, strike him down.”

“What!?” squealed Charles, moving toward his father.

One of the count’s guards took that as an eminent danger and stepped in front of the count. Putting himself between the now semi-imprisoned one-time heir and his father.

The guard was one Nick had seen previously. A Fencer that had demonstrated their prowess with their rapier at the training ground.

Nick hadn’t been able to do much against them, though he hadn’t walked away entirely beaten. He’d managed a few successful attacks and blows, though few in number. The man had taught Nick more than a few tricks.

“You will keep your distance from the count, Charles,” declared the guard. There was no hesitancy in his tone, nor was there any deference. In one single instant, the count had stripped everything from his son.

Nick eased himself forward in the group to put himself closer to Claudia, and partially between himself and Charles.

The rest of the bodyguards in the area were rapidly rounding up those who were employed, or brought on by, Charles. It really was the end of the line for Charles.

“Take him away,” the count said and then began walking again. “Claudia, to me, please.”

Even as he spoke, the count signaled to his right side, rather than his left. Which would be traditionally where his heir went.

Nick didn’t hesitate and went to Claudia’s right and then several steps behind her. His poleaxe held casually on his shoulder though ready.

Ever since he’d put on the new haft it’d felt a great deal lighter to him. Far more deadly.

“Claudia, I’m giving you a small unit to work with. If we end up in the line, you’ll be part of our reserve. Should the reserve be called up, your unit will asked to go first. Do not go up with the soldiers, remain in a place where you can oversee them and send runners as needed.”

“Y-yes, father,” Claudia said after an initial hesitation.

Here we go.

***

Ahead of Nick, Claudia, and Cynthia, the two lines were shoving at each other with their shields. Swords, spears, pole-arms, and other weapons flashing between those shields. Each side trying to push the other back while also attempting to kill them.

It was a true battle of lines, where armor, stamina, instant-use skills, touch abilities, and hit points were all that mattered. Behind that front line were a number of ranged types of soldiers along with casters. Both those that threw spells, defensive shields, and healed allies alike.

They were waiting with the reserves and watching from a considerable distance.

Much closer than they were was the count and his advisers. Overseeing the battle and the line directly. While there were others who did the same, it was obvious the count had direct experience in this sort of thing.

It hadn’t taken long for the duke to ask the count’s forces to reinforce a failing section of the battle. They were completely engaged except for his own reserves now.

A runner left the count and started running at full tilt straight for Claudia.

“Runner coming,” muttered Nick. “See if you can spot the problem area before he tells us.”

Nick did the same for his own sake and started to scour the count’s line. Nothing stood out of the ordinary from a simple overlook.

Changing his view to the enemy line, Nick saw the issue. It wasn’t that their line was buckling or anything of that nature. In fact it might be the opposite.

The enemy forces were starting to waver and drawing back on the left of the count’s section of the line. Whether legitimate or just a tactic Nick wasn’t sure. All he knew was that the count was likely going to fling Claudia’s unit right there.

Into that space to try and push through and create a hole. Once a hole was created they could work at rolling up one side of the enemy line or the other.

Looking further ahead from there, Nick saw that enemy reinforcements were on their way to try and shore up the issue.

It’s just going to be bodies into the grinder isn’t it.

“Most likely, Sire,” confirmed Lucian. “I’m afraid this is going to be a lesson for you. Not in heroics, or the ability to outwit the enemy.

“But to just sit. Watch. Listen. Gaze on as your people bleed and die for nothing in the moment. Where the only thing that matters is the last ten or so minutes of the fight. That runner will indeed likely ask Claudia’s forces to engage, but that won’t change or do anything.

“It just adds more meat to the butcher’s bill. Thankfully you won’t be part of it. We’re just here to protect the lady. Though I doubt this is over. Not by a long shot.”

“I don’t see it,” complained Claudia. “What do you think it is Ni—”

“Mistress Claudia!” called the runner even while he was still a way out. “Send your unit into the left side and reinforce the soldiers there! We’re going to try and create a gap!”

Claudia raised her hand and waved it at the runner, who turned, slid partially in the grass, and went running back to the count. Runner’s were important and if the message was delivered, his job was done.

He didn’t even confirm it though.

Claudia spun, held her arm up and pointed to the bannerman that held her colors, and the units colors.

“Forward, left side of the line. Reinforce to create a gap,” commanded Claudia. The soldier had clearly heard the orders to and looked to just be waiting for the formal go-ahead.

No sooner than she finished speaking, the man was indeed off at a run to the unit commander, banner in tow.

“We’ll move forward to over-see it, but still further than my father is,” said Claudia, looking to Nick. “We don’t have his type of protections so we’ll need to be a bit more careful.”

“Of course, Miss,” agreed Nick. It was a prudent choice.

And so we go.