Chapter 18

Gerald eyed the approaching rider with anticipation. He'd brought his men to a stop before getting into the range of Black Dog's camp. After that, he'd sent riders from the elite corps to check the enemy's numbers and defense. It was almost dawn and someone was finally bringing him news.

The rider came to a stop before Gerald and saluted. "Your lordship," the young Warrior said. "The bandits have spread their patrols wide around the camp. It would be very difficult for us to draw closer without being noticed."

"What are they alert for?" Gerald muttered to himself. Then he looked at the rider again. "How many are there of them?" he asked him.

"Less than 200, my lord."

"So," Gerald sighed helplessly. "Sneaking up on them isn't possible." If possible, he didn't want a fair battle. He wanted to wipe them out before they knew what hit them, but it seemed too farfetched now. "Less than 200, huh?"

He looked at the one thousand men standing ready behind him. He could just command them to charge the bandits and slaughter them with a five to one advantage, but he had another idea in mind. "Summon the rest of the elite corps, and bring me the captain of this regiment." Ard's army was formed out of four regiments, each having 1000 men and a captain to command them. Gerald had taken over the command for this regiment when they split up with the main force, but the captain would now come into play again.

Soon the captain arrived, a man of similar age to Robard with graying temples. "My lord," the captain saluted. "Command me."

Gerald nodded to the captain. "You'll take command of the regiment again," he said. " I will attack the camp with the elite corps while you will hold your ground. Only your cavalry will move. Have them circle the bandit camp and wipe out the patrols we don't manage to kill."

The captain hesitated for a moment then saluted again. "By your command, my lord."

"If the combat doesn't end quickly and draws on for too long, then you can charge the camp with the rest of the men," Gerald continued. "Other than that, let the elite corps handle it." He'd chosen the easier battlefield but hadn't expected it to be too easy. It presented an opportunity for him, though. He could sharpen the elite corps with this skirmish. He believed that the elite corps was the future of the house. Perhaps someday it could grow into a thousand-man corps. It was said that the Royal Guard of the Maric Kingdom was full of Warriors of the highest quality. Gerald saw in it something else, though. Instead of building a corps to protect the king on the battlefield, he wanted to build a corps that fights on the battlefield. Just like horsemen charge together and infantrymen charge together, the elite corps of Warriors could fight as a single unit, hopefully cutting through regular soldiers like a knife through butter.

"We will be ready to assist you, my lord," the captain said.

"Good," Gerald smiled. "Go prepare the cavalry then."

The captain saluted and rode towards the waiting regiment.

The elite corps had grouped up in front of Gerald by the time he finished talking to the captain. He kept his smiled and raised his hand for attention. "I've named you the elite corps for a reason," he said, his voice mild but loud enough for all thirty of them to hear. "You're the most talented and promising of my men. Tonight you have to earn your name, though. If you want the treatment that is worthy of your name, then show your worth in this battle. The elite corps alone will attack the camp under my leadership. We will clean all the patrols we meet and only leave our horses when we mount the platform on the palisade. This bandit camp falls today."

The young Warriors drew their swords and raised them, withholding their shouts of agreement lest the enemy is alerted. Touching their sense of pride was the right choice, Gerald believed. If you treated a group of people differently because they were better than others, then they'd naturally appreciate it. Nobles were the best testimony to that belief. Giving the young men of the elite corps a hope for improvement now would encourage them enough to go into battle outnumbered, even if there were better choices at hand. They wouldn't look back at the waiting regiment and scorn the idea of attacking on their own. They would embrace it.

Gerald drew his sword and trotted ahead of the thirty riders while they formed up behind him. "Spread out as much as you can. It's better that we sweep as many patrollers as possible.

The Warriors complied and spread their line out with a few yards between each two of them.

"Don't slow down until we reach the palisade. Ready your shields for their arrows," he said, pulling up the shield that was fixed to the side of his horse.

The Warriors straightened themselves and raised their shields.

"Ready yourselves," he breathed in, his mind tranquil. His first battle was coming. "Charge!" Gerald roused his horse into a trot that quickly turned into a galloped, and his thirty elites followed him.

The camp wasn't within eyeshot, but it wasn't far. He gazed at the horizon intently as the sky brightened with the rays of dawn. After a few moments of galloping, the camp was within his sight. Their watch wasn't alerted yet. It wouldn't be long before they were, though.

Gerald saw the first patrol on their path in the distance. They were three men on foot, walking in apparent boredom. Suddenly, they seemed to hear something then turned to look in his direction.

Horror appeared on their faces as they saw the three dozen riders approaching. Gerald heard them yell "enemies!" with reluctant despair on their faces.

The other patrols were alerted, and it seemed that the sentinels at the camp were too. But it didn't matter, Gerald and his men were already upon the patrol. He rode one of them down with a slash of his sword. The bandit lost half of his neck before he could utter a cry. The Warriors following Gerald didn't spare the other two of the patrol.

He looked beside him to see the wide line of the elite corps sweeping several other patrols along their charge. Then he looked ahead at the camp. There was still a considerable distance between them and the palisade. He saw the bandits on the platform and watchtowers readying their arrows. "Shields!" Gerald yelled.

The Warriors of the elite corps seemed to have noticed the enemy archers as well and they readied their shields. It didn't take a moment for the first wave of arrows to fall upon them. Gerald raised his shield and received several arrows. He heard a piercing sound as he looked down at his lightly armored horse. An arrow had pierced the armor near its ribs, but the disciplined horse kept its gallop with a pained neigh. Gerald's subordinates weren't as lucky, though. He saw a few of their horses neighing loudly and slowing down, falling slightly behind the charging line. Then he saw one of the horses falling down and throwing its rider like a catapult. The rider had expected something of the sorts and used the force of the throw to leap ahead, land, then roll a few times. The roll didn't look comfortable, but it kept him running, even if with a grimace of pain.

Gerald looked ahead again. The bandits were readying for another volley. He braced himself before he heard the whistling sound of arrows again. This time most of them fell behind the line of attackers. Only a few arrows lodged themselves in the shields of his Warriors. Gerald breathed a sigh of relief. There was no time for the bandits to loose anymore arrows. Gerald and his men were already a dozen yards away from the palisade.

The line of attackers pulled the reins of their horses abruptly when they reached the palisade, provoking a wave of loud neighs. Some horses reared up but their riders managed to handle them quickly.

Gerald and his Warriors then leveraged the height of their horses to leap over the palisade and onto the platform with their swords ready.

There was a collective yell from the bandits as the agile Warriors unexpectedly went from their horses directly to the platform, then there was the sound of metal clashing with metal. It didn't take more than a few moments for the all bandits on the platform to fall down in pools of blood. Gerald hadn't even met an opponent when he leapt to the platform. His warriors had handled the sparse enemies quickly.

Gerald spotted more bandits coming from below. "Two of you are to handle the ones in the watchtowers. As for the rest, don't let them group up. Kill them as soon as they arrive. Descend!"

The Warriors of the elite corps roared with zeal then climbed down the platform into the grounds of the camp. The approaching bandits weren't in the most organized of formations. They were randomly charging at the sparsely numbered attackers. Perhaps they hadn't realized yet that all of the attackers were Warriors.

Gerald moved forward and met a charging bandit with a parry. The bandit's rusty blade was pushed to the side, then Gerald stepped in and smoothly stabbed him in the heart. As he pulled his sword out of the falling bandit, the sight gave him pause. This was the first man he killed. He'd seen blood before, but he'd never killed before.

At least it was a bandit. They deserve no pity, I think.

He straightened up again and jumped into the fray. The Warriors of the elite corps were grinding down the charging bandits like slaughtering pigs. Only when one of the Warriors was outnumbered would he fall into a stalemate with his opponents before one of his brothers in arms interfered to support him.

Gerald clashed with another bandit. He stabbed the youth in the neck and the boy fell gurgling. He hadn't even exchanged a few swings with him. The boy had awkwardly held his spear and tried to defend in vain.

Gerald eyed the dying boy and something ached in his heart. Then he stepped closer with unsteady hands and released him from his suffering with a stab to the heart. He pulled his sword out weakly, his arm slightly trembling as he watched the boy close his eyes.

Curses, how old was he? Gerald gritted his teeth and turned towards the other bandits. There was no time to slow down. The young were doomed to bleed for the old. He shook his head with a pained expression then looked around the narrow filed of combat. His men were beginning to get pressured. They had probably killed half of the bandits by now, but they were still outnumbered at least two to one. A group of bandits had formed up and charged them together.

Gerald spotted a man among them who seemed to be in command. The man was arranging the bandits into slightly more organized ranks. He saw him mouthing a few yells then joining the front of the battle.

Gerald moved closer, hoping to kill their commander and raze their morale. As soon as Gerald stepped closer, the bandit commander noticed him. The latter seemed to have recognized Gerald as the commander of the attack as well, probably from the sight of the valuable armor on him. Gerald was donning black armor crafted from a mix of steel and leather thick enough to stop an arrow. He'd chosen the mostly leather armor to preserve his agility.

Gerald was bracing himself for a clash with his opponent when he saw a few bandits flanking him, but his Warriors quickly came to his aid from the sides. Though pressured, they didn't forget to support their lord. Gerald eyed the bandit in front of him with a weighing gaze. The latter was too calm and unhurried, keeping a distance between them.

Gerald steeled his resolve to act first. He would have to defeat his adversary as soon as possible. He had to put an end to this melee.