“Third position!”

Arrows screeched into the sky, I nocked another arrow, arms straining from exertion, we had engaged the enemy.

Contrary to my belief, pitched battles were very rare. We avoided confrontations, it seems we had objectives, and went after them exclusively. This time however, the enemy had come too close to pillaging a nearby village. Efforts to scare them off had gone too far, now here we were.

“Fourth position!”

I gritted my teeth, breathing deeply as I staved off overexertion. My stamina would always be below average unless I worked harder than everyone else, a consequence of the nanomachines. Black rain fell onto the enemy infantry, as well as our own, their screams weren’t loud enough to carry over the twang of bowstrings and the screaming of our commanders.

“Stop!” The order finally came, and I lowered my bow. Infantry met infantry with a yell, audible over our now silent group. We’d each shot about fifteen arrows, it was time to conserve, too many arrows shot would be a waste, and we couldn’t shoot without harming our allies.

“Stay standing, and keep your bow ready.” Our squad leader advised, our archer squad so to speak was a group of thirty odd people. The infantry below were pushing against one another, both maintaining their formations, those taken out by arrows replaced from behind.

[Isn’t it rather inefficient to inevitably lose men in every combat situation?]

I suppose that’s why we don’t seek fights. Losing people so often can’t be good for morale.

“We got them right good didn’t we?” Trevor practically crowed. It was true, there were quite a few dead bodies in the wake of their passing. I nodded, they were too far to see, saving me from nausea.

Nothing happened for a very long time save the pushing and pulling of the infantry, some pulled out and were replaced for injury. The main groups of mounted cavalry stayed close at hand, hovering over the fight like hawks, looking for weaknesses, watching for chinks. Another group attempted to probe defences, trying to get to the flank and strike the infantry from behind, as well as strike at the archers. All we could do was watch, while the elite members of our unit moved closer to shoot at the back ranks.

When it happened, it happened quickly, a point in the enemy’s lines faltered, our infantry pushed, and broke their lines. There was no time for screaming, no time for pain, people fell, and the fighting grew fierce. The mounted cavalry took the cue, charging into the crack, our infantry managed to scatter, and the enemy barely realized their new threat as they were engulfed by hooves and blades.

The squad leader motioned us quickly, and we began to run forward. We had been creeping forward slightly throughout the past few hours, and now began to shoot down clumps of retreating foes, guided by our squad leader, many of the enemy had scattered in all directions, and thus many escaped. We stopped after two split volleys, and began to comb the battlefield for living enemies.

Coup de grâce, mercy blow, so often used to clean up a battlefield the misericorde was named for its use in these actions back in my world. I came across a man skewered on two pikes, his shallow breaths laboured and flecks of blood blown onto the leather of his armour with every exhalation. He wasn’t conscious, and spasmed as my dagger slid itself into his brain. I turned away as I withdrew my dagger, and moved on, crushing the nausea and uneasiness I felt within myself.

Some of us threw up after a while, the sight of viscera and death not an easy sight to behold. I think I’d seen enough mutilation and wounds before, and only felt queasy at the more disturbing sights. Alida kept a stiff upper lip, occasionally closing her eyes to the carnage. Some others were unfazed, even jeering at the corpses, I was unsure what to think of that. The veterans seemed inured, but allowed us our time to work through the sights we’d seen.

Then we collected intact weapons and equipment, stripping soldiers of both sides bare, we were checked later, to prevent looting, but little things slipped through the cracks, like charms, amulets, and others. I picked up an amulet, a simple bone charm, carved with sigils in a tongue I knew nothing about. My finger brushed over the surface, feeling the grooves and markings, before dropping the amulet back onto the corpse. It was too bloody for me.

Crows settled around us, other birds as well, digging at flesh. We collected the bodies of our men, stripped of gear, and buried them. The enemy corpses we left for the wolves. We continued our march quickly enough, our target was an enemy fortification, name of Brashfield. We had apparently been agreed upon as support for the siege there many days ago, after negotiations had failed.

We moved two days journey east, tipping slightly in the southern direction. Several enemy scouts must have spotted us during the journey, yet no army appeared to attempt to deter us. It left me on edge. I learned later that a separate army was already at Brashfield, we were there to bolster the ranks in time for an assault.

I practiced my archery during the small breaks we had, when sunlight was still available, during the night I practiced combat with Alida. Alida herself had been chosen to be part of an elite group attached to our unit, a group whose accuracy allowed them to hunt down commanders, as well as be relied upon not to waste our supply of bodkin arrows by missing armoured targets.

This understandably drew her away from our group, me and Trevor saw a little less of her from then on. We spent a little more time among our squad, though I neglected to make any serious friendships. Trevor was a more welcome sight, life of the party, he kept spirits up within the group.

Our arrival was greeted by tired soldiers and little fanfare, we milled about for a time as our orders filtered through. All the siege equipment was already in place, I was intrigued by the planning put in, I’d never really thought of sieges as an enterprise before. The number of battering rams, siege towers and catapults had been very thoroughly calculated, and indeed, positioned, to take advantage of existing flaws.

[Shouldn’t that have been expected? The cost in resources must be tremendous, it’s certain that they would want to optimize their performance.]

I suppose I just never thought of it.

The first phase was slow, as we waited for our siege engines to soften the walls, ballista bolts slammed into the walls, widening existing fractures and breaking down ill-repaired sections. No speech was given on the advent of our assault, only a horn blow to signal the advance. We had prepared our bows early enough on, our squad was only to shoot at will at soldiers we were confident of hitting. This eliminated a few of our number, who had yet to master the bow, I barely qualified.

We lead up behind the infantry, running a harrowing gauntlet of arrows as they squeezed into a gap in the walls, losing men every few seconds. We followed them in, pausing every so often to loose an arrow or two into exposed enemy bodies. The infantry stopped, part of them fortifying their formations as a detachment moved up the stairs of the outer wall to strike at the archers. An enemy group arrived swiftly, taking casualties from us before clashing with the infantry.

The combat was frenetic, and the rest of us as archers had to constantly watch for openings to loose at the foes in the back ranks. I refrained from doing so, my abilities nowhere near capable of doing that, and joined the rest in firing at reinforcements from further back.

The main body of our group arrived soon, and we stepped aside as they used their momentum to pressure our enemies, who upon seeing the group, wavered and broke. We followed behind them, rolling them back to the castle body, unable to draw due to the unwieldy nature of our weapons during movement. All the other groups had routed to the same area as well, and seeing this, they turned back to face us in a panic, charging us.

We were taken aback by this, I’m certain most of us expected a surrender. The infantry met them, our momentum stifled, and those few leading the charge cut down in a frenzy of blood. I tried to stop myself, but inertia pushed me forward into the backs of the infantry, and I bounced off, skidding backwards.

The fighting died down after a while, I stood aside and watched tensely, an arrow nocked in. A few of the infantry snarled expletives and stabbed the corpses a few more times, before we rejoined the main army further ahead.

It had been a hard-won victory, though the opponent’s casualties far outstripped our own. This served to increase the tensions within the army, and our survival snapped much restraint. The inhabitants, roughly 30 or 40, along with castle servants, were gathered outside the town, to witness the deaths of their defence force, executed for refusing to surrender. I watched families burst into tears, shielding the eyes of children as the garrison was killed. Then came the looting.

I stayed outside in our camp, practicing archery and combat as I waited for the looting to subside, groups of soldiers would set out eagerly in the morning and return more subdued at night.

I moved as I shot, shifting myself in a myriad of directions as I loosed arrows into different targets placed throughout the field.

[You’re conflicted.] Statement, not a question, either it was learning my patterns or reading my mind, the latter would be troubling. Nothing I could do about it though, a brain was a delicate thing.

Looting was practically unavoidable in equivalent times from my world, now my world would’ve condemned it as immoral and unjust. I don’t think I have the right to judge, morality has always been a fluid concept.

I hopped sideways, using my left elbow to keep the arrows in my hip quiver in place. Back quivers were for transport and mobility, when you enter combat, your quiver is placed on the hip.

[if it changes all the time, then why is it so important to you?]

I thought about that a while. Morality ultimately protects members of a community, prevents us from self-destructing in a flurry of treachery and continue our lineage. I suppose the only fluid portion is who we use it to protect, who makes up “us” and “them”.

[It’s seems counterproductive to consider your enemies part of your “group”.] I could hear the air-quotes it used, it’d never used that before.

Your enemy today may be your friend tomorrow. I thought back, the full quote was extremely cynical, but that sentence I can use.

I shot my last arrow into a target, and sat down to rest for a moment, reactivating the healing nanomachines as I did so. Loran chose this time to approach. He’d been standing off to the side for a while, watching me. I greeted him with a nod.

“Archery practice can’t really be that interesting can it?” I asked him with a slight smile.

“Some people practice sometimes, but people really like talking about you. Not all of it is nice you know?” He said, gesturing with his hands. “You really need to talk to people more, most people think of you like someone they barely even know.”

“And here I thought it was because I wasn’t participating in group activities.” I replied, bemused, maybe a little sarcastic.

“What?” Loran paused for a moment. “Oh, not everyone does that, some people are playing some games over the other side of the camp. You want to join?”

I laughed slightly. “So long as they don’t mind a player with weak arms. Just let me retrieve those arrows first.”