III. Under the Canopy
The journey to France was far from interesting and I spent much of it slumbering. A few times would one of my men check up on me and I was grateful they did such a thing. But I feared each of them began to understand the weight of the situation bearing down upon us. Fear and trepidation were beginning to set in the further we got from home and tempers began to flare even during simple sparring sessions.
More than once, I had to push myself between an angry pair of men, both of whom were usually young and brash. The fight would end when a stray hit clocked me in the face, yet not once did I lift a finger in retaliation. That was not my way and I would not dare attempt anything that might compromise the loyalty of my chosen.
Though, I must admit, there were times ill thoughts crossed my mind. Perhaps I should strike out and assert myself. I knew I had the experience if nothing else. Oftentimes I wondered how many I could take. Two, maybe three before the rest would overwhelm me. Not the best death, yet a glorious one for someone such as myself. As was his way, Hann forever remained the voice of reason. I was glad for his interventions, more so the morning of the day we made landfall. The wind billowed in the yellowed sails and the boat groaned and creaked as the waters lapped at the wood and I stood at the prow, watching and waiting. The salty air felt good between the folds of my face and it seemed to rejuvenate me in a way I long thought not possible. It was only the sound of Hann’s voice that broke me free of my own mind.
“The first stage of our long journey looms close to its end. He willed us good fortune for us to come as far as we might, but He also provides issues for us to resolve. Speak your thoughts, milord, for I offer His council in the hopes you may find some brief reprieve from the ills that trouble you,” Hann said.
I turned my gaze to him and took a deep breath. “The world is too big for Him to worry about whatever grievances I might carry with me.”
“Humble as ever, milord. But I must insist, for it is my duty as one of His servants. You have your loyalty as a knight, as a lord, as a servant to our King. My piety gives me strength and my devotion to the path gives me patience. Never forget that the pain you feel is one all your men carry with them, and it affects how they perceive this journey.
“I remember a young lad who entered into my parish not six years past. Strong as an ox, he was, but far from the brightest flame in the fire. He came to tell me most other men of the cloth rejected his pleas and his cries for sanctuary. I did not dare turn him away, for the Lord placed me upon this earth to do his bidding and to accept all men as they are, not what they might do in life. Soldiers barged into my parish, demanding the boy. They claimed to serve the crown. Claimed to serve you, milord.
“I refused to give them any form of information. I made a pact with the Lord and I do not renege on my word. I gave my word of sanctuary and I stood my ground. Those mercenaries drew their blades in a place of God of all places. They did not scare me, and I assured them I would not tolerate violence under His roof. The first struck out with the intent to injure me. But the Lord gave me many gifts in this life, and His protection is strong within me. But, as a man of the cloth, I am sworn to not draw the blood of another, so I do not do so. Yet there is some contestation as to His true intention. I carry an immense amount of faith within myself, but I do not believe He would leave his will undefined. If I cannot draw blood, I cannot wield a blade. But He makes no mention of a bludgeon nor a mace.
“Thus, it transpired the two who would dare strike out against me felt the wrath of the Lord. I cracked their ribs. I broke one arm on both of them. My bludgeon connected with their skull, but not once did I draw blood. They fled. And the lad I took in? He follows the path of the righteous now. He speaks for the Lord in my stead. I did not draw information from him, just as I will not draw it from you, milord. Though, I sense fear within you. You radiate it. You hide from it. All I can do is counsel you not to let it consume you,” Hann said.
I sighed. Hann was good at getting under the skin of others, though I appreciated it for it took my mind off the need to worry about my men. And if that involved letting myself out of the shell that I created for myself, then I supposed it was not the worst thing in the world to do. So, I gave a warm nod in Hann’s direction and a slight smile crossed my lips.
“You know I am not like you, Father Hann. I do not possess your level of piety nor do I have your ideologies in my repertoire. But I do know you mean well and indeed I shall share some of my secrets with you, though it goes against the judgement of my moral code. You speak of when you were a young person and you fought for your life, so it makes senses that I must do likewise. When I went on my previous crusade, I had to fight many of my peers. One of them, a lad two or three years younger than I was, he was cocky to say the least. But he was strong headed and steadfast. Almost nothing could dissuade him from his course.
“This lad though… he was brutal in the way he went about it. Almost as if he did not care about the consequences or even recognise the principle behind a practice fight. Every blow he aimed at me had malice behind it. It felt as though he wished to hurt me or even kill me. I knew I had to defend myself. So, I stopped holding myself back. The first free strike I made staggered him. Shock registered on his face, since he did not understand what his next move might be. He reared back and swung again. My steel met his, but my strength overrode his. I broke his blade in twain and severed through his forearm as he recoiled. I will never forget his scream, Father. The way it echoed off the mountains in the distance and how it would have forced our enemy to retreat, had we been fighting in that moment. I saw his other hand reach for the stump where his limb once was. Desperately, he tried to stop the flow of blood, but a wound such as that is fatal. No priest could hope to fix it, even if we had one handy.”
I paused to take a breath and to give myself a chance to judge Hann’s reaction to my words. Yet his expression told me nothing. He seemed to stare off into the distance, the little wind there was blowing the few ragged hairs on his head in all directions. The coldness in his eyes betrayed the warmth behind his words and his actions, but he was not the most approachable figure to most men if he did not wear his cloth. Hann offered me no words, so I sighed and cracked my neck and asked Hann a question I myself did not anticipate.
“Does the feeling ever go away, Father? In my gut, I cannot help but feel anguish every time I think of that moment. Of what I did to that poor lad. The life he could have led had I not savagely ended his life. Such things weigh heavy on my mind, and this call to arms has done nothing but amplify how I feel. So, tell me, Father, what do you believe I should do? Be honest.”
Hann smirked. “It seems to me that your mind believes what you did to be a sin against the Holy Father. For me, however, it seems everything you did was no more than an accident. Accidents occur on a regular basis and it seems in my mind what occurred back then was no different. The Lord is far more forgiving than men believe him to be. All men carry the weight of sin in their veins though most proclaim some variety of innocence or ignorance. God will not punish us for our actions if they are not in excess. It is not His way, for then none of us would reach the promised land beyond the pearly gates. A place of light and beauty. Where men and women can mingle in harmony and peace, for it is a place where neither race nor religion matters in the slightest. Yet here we are, finding ourselves venturing forth in the name of the Lord on a Holy Crusade. I come not for the glory, milord, but to provide counsel. I hope my words help ease you of at least one of your burdens,” Hann said.
I spoke very few words to anyone over the next few days as we made our way across the French countryside and the expansive border of the Holy Roman Empire. I intended for our path to take us through Barbarossa’s lands where I knew we would not be far from supplies. Though that posed a different problem. Bandits and mercenaries were prominent in the Black Forest. Yet, before we were to entire the lands of the Holy Roman Empire, we endeavoured to beef up our supplies wherever we could in France.
I am not ashamed to admit we did not find as much as we hoped, for many of the villages and towns we came across were woefully undermanned. Recruits for the Crusade, no doubt. A consequence of the leaving of the able bodied and patriotic meant few would openly help us. In fact, young children and elder matrons alike would spit in our direction (some loogies made facial contact) whilst those with a slight bit more class would curse under their breath at us. The latter made me consider the hate was not because we were a part of the Crusade, but because we openly wore the insignia of the Lion on our gear.
However, we were eternally grateful to those who offered us help, however little they could muster. But none of us were ever brave enough to note that no matter what gifts we received, they would never be enough. On more than one occasion, I had to interject myself between one of the young hot shots of my party and our humble hosts. Of course, this went down with some of my group better than it did with others. Every time we made camp, arguments would flare up about the actions of the previous day or two. Never would anyone reach a resolution and tensions continued to escalate night after night.
The seventh night of our crossing of France was when everything boiled over. Around our campfire was when Randel, the most outspoken and pig-headed of the group, launched into his usual spiel to decry all those who were not faithful to the Lord. And when he started this night, a wave of groans rolled through the camp. Hann seemed unamused and unimpressed with what Randel tried to do. But from the first word to leave his lips, something felt different. The atmosphere sent a shiver up my spine and I watched as Randel pushed himself to his feet and began pointing around at various people in the camp. But it was not until he positioned himself to glare at me that I began to give him my full attention.
“And you, milord. Such a fitting title for a fat, ageing clod! You would have us mingle with these peasants around us? Blasphemers to our cause? Don’t worry, I’ve heard the tales people say about you. All about how big and strong you are. But I’m yet to see it because I know the Lord does not favour you. You hide behind your title, don’t you?” Randel hissed.
“Watch your tongue, boy,” Noll said.
“I will do no such thing, for I don’t believe that our benevolent leader is capable of leading us to glory. We should be travelling with the main army, yet we must indulge in this farce he wishes us to go along with. Perhaps we should follow someone who will lead us to success. Someone who is not afraid of speaking the truth! Someone the Lord blesses each morning. Perhaps I should lead us to the Holy Land. What say you to that, milord? Oh, right, why would you speak to someone like me? I’m of a lesser station than you. The son of a farmer. Whereas you, milord, what are you? Someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth?”
Randel stepped close to me. I did not flinch nor did I show any kind of intimidation. Randel’s snivelling face creased, and a low growl escaped from his throat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hann stand and move to a spot on the outer edge of the camp. A small cut of wood was in one hand and a carving knife in the other. Hann’s fingers were a blur as he began to whittle the wood. I cleared my throat and looked Randel dead in his eyes.
“You seem to want to challenge me, yes? Am I reading the situation correctly?” I asked.
The slap Randel connected with echoed in the distance and I could feel the blood rush into the broken vessels in my cheek. He stepped back from me with his arms outstretched and a cocky smirk on his face. His inimitable laugh sang out, providing a unique cadence to his next words.
“A challenge? A challenge? Oh yes, that is what I wish, milord. Perhaps then the world will see what a sad excuse for a man you really are.”
With a sigh, I placed a hand on either side of my knees and pushed myself up with a mighty groan. My elbows popped in anticipation and a dull crack came from my aging hips. Randel decided to showcase the speed advantage he believed he possessed as he bounced around the fire and drew his sword. He angled the tip towards me, and his eyes practically begged me to make a move. But I was smarter than that. Instead, I reached for my scabbard and unclasped it from my body.
“Let’s get this over with, then,” I said in a bored tone.
But with speed unbecoming my size and age, I flicked my wrist toward Randel. The simple motion drew the sword Richard gifted me, whilst hurling the empty scabbard at Randel. In his fury, Randel lashed out, desperate to make the first strike. Yet I lazily parried his strike and grasped his collar in my free hand. And with almost casual ease, I launched Randel behind me and listened to his body crunch in the dirt. This served to enrage him further and he charged at me once more.
This time, he did not even swing his blade before my hand clapped around his wrist. I spun around and hurled him away from me again, using my blade to block Elric’s blade. I knew he talked to Randel, and I believe he felt he should help his supposed friend. Rather than toss Elric, I pushed him back and he staggered in next to Randel.
“Should surrender now, milord. Two of us and one of you. Odds don’t seem fair from here,” Randel said.
“Just another arse to kick,” I replied.
Both Elric and Randel charged me and I could see the ferocity in their eyes. As I side stepped Randel’s errant swing, I caught Elric’s weapon with the hilt of mine. In a flash, my head cracked against Randel’s skull, flattening him with a sickening sound. Yet my momentum did not stop as I raised my massive boot to impact Elric’s chest, stunning the young lad for a moment. There was no reprieve for me, though. The others around the fire rose in unison, save for Noll and Hann, who merely shrugged his shoulders.
My sword was a blur as I blocked blows from my left and my right, lashing out with my limbs where I could. I spun around, catching Elric by the neck on my way through, and I sent him careening into Addy. The moment the challenge came my way, I decided to not strike out in an offensive manner with my blade, but the more the other seven fighting me rose to their feet, the more my patience thinned. Even Elric and Randel, bloodied after the first instances of physical contact, continued to throw themselves at me.
Yet until I heard steel impact the armour under my tunic, I did not let myself lose control. The moment I heard that sound, I steeled my eyes, punched Elric in the chest, mule-kicked Addy, and let out a guttural roar as I spun around to cleave Randel’s blade in twain. And within a second, the sounds of fighting stopped. I did not look up from the ground as I spoke.
“There is a bloody good reason I am a fucking knight! Even now, in the twilight of my life, I can still kick all your arses without breaking a sweat. Now, I suggest you get some fucking rest. You will need it tomorrow,” I growled.
I stood upright and everyone save the shocked Randel took three massive steps away from me. Their hands hastily worked on sheathing their weapons and were quick to bid each other a good night as they moved to retire to their tents. I picked up my scabbard and Noll followed me over to where Hann was. We both sat down opposite our chosen priest. Noll went to speak, but I raised my hand and canted my head to Hann.
“Such a beautiful sight, milord. I never doubted you for a second. Your faith shines as an exemplar of His will. Though there is no doubt in my mind you wished for that affair to go in a different direction. You feel remorse for having indulged in your base emotions, but you need not fear. You are older and wiser, so you will not allow the same accident to occur to any of these fine fellows who travel with us,” Hann said.
I glanced over my shoulder to see Randel cradling the pieces of his sword. My heart sank a little, but I did not regret what I had done. Whilst not the intended lesson, the message I got across was more than clear.
“Perhaps now they understand the situation we are walking into. Headstrong and cocksure a few minute ago, and now look at them. Can you see the fear in their eyes, Noll? Do you see how their demeanours have morphed? What do you make of that?” I asked.
Noll sighed. “A tale as old as time. The brash upstarts and the grizzled veterans. They will always underestimate what we are capable of until the moment they see us in action. But you did the right thing, milord. A fire now burns under all their feet and they will be the ones to stoke the flames of war. When the time comes, they will be better for it.”
“There’s a long road ahead of us. Temptation will pull at them from all sides. They have nothing to lose anymore. I fear they will turn on me again,” I said.
“Such is the way of man. A competition and a game to all but those with the intelligence to see otherwise. No doubt they will test your leadership and your strength again, as all men are wont to do. It is a struggle we see in the animals around us. Much as a wolf challenges for leadership of the pack, man will do the same. Yet you carry the Lord’s favour within you. A blessing, so to speak. Whilst your faith shines, you will remain an exemplar of this group and they will follow you. It might not be without question, but they will understand the goal you intend for us to walk toward,” Hann said.
I hoped Hann was right, since I felt the uncertainty begin to build not only in my mind, but in my body. Without the safety of my home or youth, I was vulnerable, and it was showing. Perhaps I made a mistake joining up for this long march. Though, as my eyes began to close and my brain started to shut down parts of my body, those thoughts faded to black. Tomorrow was a new day. A fresh start.
The attitude of the small group of soldiers felt a lot more tense as we continued our trek across the last of the French countryside. We were making good time, but our confrontation in our own camp hung over our heads. It was intriguing to see how the members reacted to our situation. Some hid their feelings quite well, yet they could not disguise the fact the scenario bothered them to no end. Some of the less vocal amongst the group, such as Addy, dragged their feet through the dirt. I held no ill will toward them, for they were only doing what they felt was right. I knew what it was like to be in their shoes. Their position once belonged to me and thoughts of rebellion filled my mind.
Yet there was a strange calmness to the world about us. An aura of emptiness and ominousness. The sun bore down, warming and burning in the same second whilst the total lack of wind caused the world to cantillate in harmonisation with Hann’s humming. A feeling of dread weighed down my stomach, though my mind detoured toward my next meal. I guessed my constant feeling of hunger were a coping mechanism to ease my mind of homesickness and worry. Yet sometimes they were too strong and overwhelmed my senses. Such was the case with this latest bout because, before I could register the change in environment around me, leaves began to whip my face. But they did not break me out of my stupor. If anything, the leaves served to calm me down further and almost lulled me to sleep.
My thoughts went back to the births of my children, and of my first wife. Sure, she was not a great beauty, nor did she command much in the way of respect, but we shared a genuine adoration for each other. We knew we would always come back to each other, despite our numerous and vitriolic arguments that often damaged our estate. The small scars running horizontally along my left temple were proof of our dangerous and brutal nature. And any who asked me where I got them, I dared not lie. For doing so would tarnish my memories of her and all sense of fairness and justice would leave the world. Yet as the years passed me by, her face became more of a blur. A riddle to my mind. A mystery to those closest to my eldest children. An enigma to the world.
Yet one thing was certain and that was that I could never forget her name – Hawise. It spoke of her Norman heritage. I vowed that until the day of my death, I would never let her name leave my mind. Even if the youth of Amice was taking precedence as my favoured vision. How I yearned to embrace either of them in my arms in that moment. I visualised the sensation and a smile almost crossed my lips.
It was a tree branch flicking into my face that broke that stream of consciousness and made me realise the countryside of France was fading into the distance, and was now allowing the Black Forest to begin enrapturing me in the confusing and intricate beauty of even the simplest blade of grass.
“Milord. Might I steal a word from you?” Randel’s voice entered my mind.
“Do not feel you need to give any apology, for you performed no ill deed against me,” I said, still lost in thought.
“I understand that, milord, but I still would not feel right if I did nothing to rectify the situation. I spoke with Hann earlier and he gave me some obscure advice, but the meaning was clear. I should make peace with any demons in my body, and so I need to let you know that my doubting you was out of blindness and arrogance rather than ignorance of our task. You’ve done all this before, and I respect that. I respect what you’ve accomplished because I know you care for us,” Randel said.
My ears twitched at the rustle of some leaves as we continued our march and it brought me further out of my funk. Even if it was nothing more than an animal, I chose to remain wary. My eyes flitted through the shrubbery, wondering, and weighing any place where there might be risks laying in wait.
“Hann seems to have an obsession with me speaking more with others it seems. I suppose he believes it will help me crawl out of this suppose shell I hide inside. But as I mentioned before, you have no need to give me an apology. We all do things we regret in life, yet we should hold onto them and let them drive us forward and pave a clearer path for us. My mentor during my first Crusade imparted such lessons unto me and that duty now falls upon me. I know I can be harsh and unforgiving when push comes to shove, but I do so to make you all better human beings,” I replied.
I continued to track my eyes through the trees as more frantic sounds began to fill my ears. Though my hearing was not what it once was, there was no mistaking the footfalls of bandits. They were lightly armoured given the terrain. It was probable they did not speak the same language I did, though there was one common thread we both would know. Cold steel.
“I appreciate your honesty, milord. What became of your mentor? Though, if it is too much, don’t answer. He must’ve been a great man,” Randel said.
“Many say he was. All of them are liars. The man who taught me was a steaming pile of shit. Not easy to get along with. Much like myself, which is why I think he decided to take me under his wing. Do not confuse my rudeness for cruelty, for he was a knight despite his poor attitude. Always did the right thing, despite what consequences came from it. There was one good aspect about my mentor and I will pass it to you now. Always be ready for a fight. That was my lesson last night. In the wilds, one must be ready for any eventuality. We’re no longer in England, Randel. The laws change as we navigate our way through the world.”
Randel seemed confused as I spoke, though he was quick to figure out I was stalling for time as I slowed my pace. Boomer strode up beside me and I reached out to run my fingers through his fur. A chuff flared his nostrils and I glanced at the hilt of my sword. The whole time, I listened and traced the hidden footsteps as they hurried to their chosen ambush spot.
A twig snapped off the path and Randel’s hand shot to his own sword. I reached out and held him back from drawing his weapon. There was no need to spook the bandits. I figured my men could use a taste of combat, but my knightly instincts all nagged at the back of my mind. Removing this group would make the land a little safer to travel through.
“You see them, milord?” Noll whispered as he stepped up behind me.
“Ahead. Look. What does the land tell you?” I replied.
There were thick trees off to the left of a widened section of the path that could mask potential traps. To the right, two large and conspicuous boulders sat and offered a vantage point to anyone who might want to stage an ambush on the road. More telling was the recently disturbed dirt of the worn path. Noll let out a grunt and I knew he threw up a stealthy hand signal to a couple of the more experienced fighters in the group. They would flank around and nullify whoever was behind those rocks.
“They’ve been watching us for some time, it seems. We could turn their traps against them. Lure them into a false sense of security and strike when they let their guard down,” Noll suggested.
“No,” Randel muttered.
“Whassat, boy?” said Noll.
“These are bandits, right? They won’t fall for those mind games.”
“How do you know that?” Noll asked.
“Lived on the streets all my life. People such as these are pragmatic. They don’t risks, so they’ll string us up and shoot us without getting in range. We need to strike hard and fast. But it’s not my decision.”
Randel glanced up at me and I weighed the options we had. However, I barely had time to consider the good or the bad of either plan before a whooping yell cracked through the air and an arrow whizzed in front of my face. Tarnished helmets and poorly made swords were swift to lunge out of the trees. I could only estimate their numbers, but fifty was a conservative estimate on how many there were. But it did not matter to me. All I did was smile, grip my sword and gave Boomer a hard slap on his flank.
With an echoing whinny, he reared up and surged forward. The metal ring at the top of my scabbard sang as the sword inside slid free of its trappings. An arrow slapped into the front of my shirt and bounced harmlessly off my armour underneath. I took in a deep breath and, at the top of my lungs, I roared unintelligibly and swung my sword at the closest bandit. Our weapons sang as they clashed. My arms wavered a little but I was far stronger than my would be aggressor.
I admit, it took me a few parries for my mindset to enter fight mode. I felt the weight of the sword in my hand and I adjusted my grip with each strike my opponent made. His swordcraft was mediocre at best and his footwork was nothing to cry home about, but he had a lot of spirit about him. Said spirit disappeared the moment I turned the tables on him and broke his flurry of attacks. His face fell when he saw my eyes bearing down on him. My hand shot out to grab him by the neck and with a lazy turn of my body, I tossed the bandit to the ground. His weapon clattered out of his grasp and I delivered a swift kick to his temple before he could react. The blow was not enough to kill him, but it would incapacitate him for long enough.
The closest person to me was Randel. Two sneering bandits moved against him in a coordinated attack, doing all they could to get the upper hand. To his credit, Randel was holding his own, though the effort clearly flustered him. I twirled my sword and closed the gap between me and the nearest of Randel’s foes.
I do not know what caused it, but seeing Randel threatened woke something within me. Perhaps it was because I saw those under my command as part of my kin. Family I needed to protect and guide forward. So, it transpired that the speed I swung my sword at the pale-haired bandit was such that it cleaved through his forearm as though it were parchment. It took a second for the injury to register, but once the bandit saw the blood-spurting stump where part of his arm once was, he unleashed a bloodcurdling scream. All pairs of eyes in the mêlée turned in my direction.
“Positions! Form up!” I bellowed.
Even with minimal practice and training, my soldiers moved in alongside either one or two others, their blades pointed outward. The bandits did not seem to care and the sight of seeing one of their own in such pain drove them into a frenzy. More of them seemed to emerge from the tree line and within seconds, the sound of steel echoed through the forest around us. I listened for any signal that any of my men were in trouble, and I was glad to have Randel watching my back. He fought with a vigour unbecoming of his attitude and I knew he wanted to impress me and prove to himself he deserved to be here.
The most curious pairing of the group were Hann and Noll. I only caught brief glimpses of their partnership, but they seemed to move more in sync than any professional soldiers in a legion did. Noll was a brute of a fighter, his heavy axe ringing against steel and gashing into flesh with ease. Hann was less refined than the bandits, though his bludgeon was more than enough to keep any who challenged him at bay. Though, it could also be the words Hann cried out the entire time, his voice dominating over even the sound of metal on metal.
“May your souls find rest in the afterlife, for you shall receive no mercy from me! The Lord guides my hand and, in this moment, you will know that my hand demands cessation of your hostilities! And yea, He walks amongst us! You shall not come between us and our destination, for He shines His radiance upon our path. Fallen men! That is all you are. Lost children, but I am a shepherd of His flock and I can guide you to the light. You will feel the wrath of the light as imparted by on of His chosen! Lord, may you take mercy on these souls and guide them to a better life should they escape from here with their spirits intact. As for you, my misguided foe who dares draw a weapon against me, you are naught to me. Your blows do no harm to me, for I am beyond your petty attempts to harm me. And now you feel the wrath of the one true weapon of the Lord. Hear my voice, my brothers, and take solace in my words and my deeds, for we are all God’s chosen and none shall hinder us!” Hann said with such a verve in his voice, the bandits visibly recoiled, but they kept up their attack.
Of course, there was an unintended side effect of Hann’s speech and that was I found myself caught up in his words. An axe clashed against the lumbar section of my armour hard enough to mark the skin beneath and stagger me a small amount. I spun around and caught the axe on the second attempt. Randel drove the point of his weapon between the ribs of the bandit and gave a firm nod to me.
“Not bad, milord,” he said.
I could not help but let a smirk fill my lips. Randel had the gall to insult me to my face, but I knew he meant well. We were quick to step back to back, or as close as we could manage, given I towered over pretty much everyone else in the mêlée. The next few minutes were hard as around a dozen bandits tried to overwhelm Randel and myself. Hann and Noll fared little better, though the intensity of Hann’s words and ferocity of Noll’s attacks gave any who approached them pause. The other four groups of my men found their way to each other and attacked with practice beyond their years, even if their footwork was not perfect.
It was with a final roar that I swung my sword with all my might at a trio of encroaching bandits. The first tried to block, but the haft of his hammer splintered against my blade. The bloody tip nicked his trachea and sent forth a spray of viscous blood. My momentum slowed very little as the second bandit in the line tried to block with a small targe. He let out a nightmarish screech of horror as his arm snapped from the impact. My follow through was enough to gash the third bandit from jaw to temple.
The surviving bandits scrambled around and tried to find their feet as they fled from the now-bloodied clearing. Of the three left in front of me, the first collapsed to his knees, grasping at his slashed throat. He tried to articulate words, but only air and a blood foam escaped his mouth. The third merely collapsed and was dead before he hit the ground, his face a ruined and unrecognisable mess. I stepped forward and pressed my boot hard against the chest of the one whose arm I broke. All he did was shake his head and babble on in his native tongue.
“Anyone understand what he is saying?” I asked.
I looked around and my men, all of them winded and some of them wounded, but they shook their heads. With a shrug of my shoulders, I looked down at the bandit, whose entire body now shook uncontrollably. I pressed my sword against his chest next to my boot and pushed into his flesh. He gasped, but after a few seconds, his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
“That’s that then. Doubt those’ll be the last bandits we see,” Noll said, sheathing his sword.
“No, but we will be ready for them when they next pop up. You should all be proud. You fought well,” I said.
I turned as I spoke and made eye contact with everyone in the group. Hann was kneeling in prayer position, muttering what I could only assume were last rites. Elric and Addy sat in silence side by side on a small boulder. Noll kept his eyes focused on the skirts of the forest, wary of any potential stragglers or a second wave of bandits who might emerge like daisies.
Randel was the last person my gaze encountered. He stood there with a contented smile on his lips, his breath coming in heaving waves. But as he went to speak, his knees wobbled, and his legs buckled underneath him. Hann and I rushed to his side. I caught him under the arms before he could collapse further, though Hann’s face told me the whole story. I looked down and saw the blood seeping out from around Randel’s hand and the broken arrow embedded in his belly.
“Seems my luck ran out,” Randel coughed. “Not too bad. Made it half a world away. More than someone of my station deserves.”
I laid Randel down on his back as gentle as I could. The rest of the group, save for Noll who still stood vigilant, gathered in a wide circle as Randel’s breathing quickened. The sun cast a long ray on his face, and it brought a calmness to Randel. Hann took Randel’s free hand and brought it close to his mouth. I lowered my head as Hann spoke.
“May this soul find solace in the world that now awaits him. May the Lord smile down upon you and accept you with open arms, for that is His way. The world will mourn this loss, but we cannot let it define us. Rather, we can drive forward, knowing better what we fight for. Guide this soul to the afterlife he deserves as a servant of you, O Lord. Do not judge him on his past sins, for they do not define him. His burden is no longer his to bear, but ours,” Hann said.
Even before Hann finished speaking, Randel’s breathing slowed to a crawl and the moment Hann’s last word left his lips, Randel’s eyes closed for the last time. His chest would not rise again, but we would not forget him. I took a deep breath and placed a light kiss on Randel’s forehead, to signal to his soul I did not harbour any ill will against him. I opened my own eyes and stared at Hann. We both knew our Crusade now carried a personal element to it.
Fenrir's Lair 
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