C2 2. Brynn

A week later, Ravenor finally set off for Two-river Country. He was upset with Eryn for leaving without any words of farewell. The absence of the young mage was only revealed as the topic went down the chain of command. Master Eriwen had asked Master Raiden the whereabouts of his magical combat skills instructor, and the Lord of Naganor had explained in short that Master Eryn had decided to leave the Guard. Then the fire-mage spread the news to the Fourth Regiment and from there it spread across to the commanders of the other regiments.

Nobody knew exactly what had happened, so the rumours spun wildly. But for the moment the Guard resembled a turbulent anthill, with all the leadership reconfigurations keeping everyone so busy, that Eryn‘s disappearance was forgotten rather quickly. He had simply left Naganor, like so many others in the days that followed.

A short trip through a gate brought Ravenor to Wyvernwall, where he met Sir Askir. The young Orten had left a few days earlier, taking the tunnel stones with him to River‘s Keep. Now, a briefing had been scheduled to determine the next course of action. Prince Raiden had given them amazing freedom in their choices. He had quickly stopped their initial requests and forbade them any further harassments, pointing out that a weekly report would be completely sufficient.

If he‘ll ever read them... Ravenor had his doubts about that.

It was the first time that they were absolutely free in their decision making – with one small drawback: Sir Askir held the command, and of that he was now making generous use.

„Sir Ravenor, you should station your men in Brynn, that makes the most sense strategically and covers a wide area to the north.“ In front of them lay a map of Two-river Country.

Ravenor repeatedly pointed to Luth. „Sir Askir, a small trade route passes through Luth and leads to the north coast of Gelderon. The bridge there should be expanded and I intend to station the main part of my men there. Trade brings people from all over. There are foreigners there, and money. And where there is money, there will certainly be more trouble than in a small farming village like Brynn. That place is of little relevance and lies too far to the north. See for yourself, around there are only dense forests and nothing else. What should we guard there? Or should we call the deer and foxes to order?“

The young Orten could be such a spoilsport, but this was not a new realisation.

„Sir Ravenor, Brynn is more central if you consider the northern part separately. And from there, Luth can easily be reached, as well as the other settlements in the north. In a case of emergency, I will cover the area further south with my men. You‘re right to suggest that Luth is a place of greater importance, but I don‘t recommend stationing Ardeen‘s troops right on the trade route to Gelderon.“

Where else if not there? Ravenor thought angrily, but Askir went on unflinchingly, „Our neighbours might feel provoked by such an act of aggression. Drawing swords right in front of their noses is not a very diplomatic move. That‘s why I am deciding now that you will go to Brynn and build a garrison there. You get two tunnel stones at your disposal. That‘s all for now.“

Ravenor had no choice but to give the official approval, „Yes, Sir Askir.“ Two stones meant only a single connection, because one stone had to stand at each end of the route. Oh, how generous our Sir Askir is, Ravenor thought angrily. It annoyed him that he had lost the small fight with Askir and that Brynn was the final decision.

„Now that everything has been clarified, you can get started immediately. As for me, I have to go back to River‘s Keep to attend another meeting.“

Oh our good Sir Askir is just sooo important.

The usual soldierly customs followed and Sir Askir hurried out of the room. Ravenor rolled up the map and then headed off as well.

Unfortunately, Brynn exceeded even his expectations – in a negative sense. There were a dozen half-ruined huts, inhabited by a handful of peasant families.

A great place, Ravenor thought, as he heard one of his men mutter, ‚What crap‘. It was an attitude he shared quite well, but he was not allowed to show that in public.

„Pull yourself together! We are men of the Guard. We fulfil the tasks assigned to us without personal evaluation and without grumbling. Am I understood!“ „Yes, my Commander.“ Actually, such a reprimand should have been the job of a unit officer, but Ravenor himself was still too fresh in the rank of a commander, to have become familiar with all the new expectations of the position. One of them was: delegate and then wait. Since the Prince’s bastard was a man who also liked to get in and do things himself, initially he struggled with this. „Sir Demon, get the camp established over there. Sir Hartwig, Sir Nortwik and Sir Cerdik, you come with me. We will explore the area.“ Ravenor turned his stallion and the others were following him. Only Nortwik‘s unit was equipped with horses, and, of course, all the officers were mounted. The other two units consisted of infantry. Not to mention the units that did not even exist yet. Forty new recruits certainly won‘t help simplify the situation. A survey of the site did not offer them an optimal location for the new garrison, and, since only officers were present, even Ravenor no longer held back with his true sentiments.

„This area is not at all suitable, but the instructions from above are clear. We will go to the river, upstream from Brynn, then at least the shit of the peasants will not swim towards us. Unfortunately, I do not see any further strategic advantages.“

The officers grinned and expressed their sincere approval. As if to emphasise their assessment of the situation, the skies turned gray and it began to rain. Light and drizzly, but in continued steadily for the next few days. The dark clouds hung lazily over the area, releasing fine droplets from their seemingly inexhaustible supply.

Thirty days had passed since Ravenor had arrived in Brynn, but he felt as if he had already aged thirty years. Problems seemed to be everywhere, and everyone kept bothering him with them. Who else could they go to? At least accommodation for the troops and stables for the horses are

erected now. He went through the list of unfinished buildings. The assembly house, the fortification and the watchtowers were still under construction, along with other buildings such as the infirmary, the forge and the saddlery. At the very thought of how outrageously expensive magical craftsmen were, Ravenor still breathed fire and brimstone. Daily wages of over 150 gold pieces were not uncommon, and the Prince‘s bastard now clearly recognised that Eryn‘s help for 50 gold pieces a day really had been a bargain. At such a horrendous price magical craftsmen were simply unaffordable.

Unfortunately, among Sir Kerven‘s men there were none who had any special skills in the art of magical craftsmanship, which grieved him even more. Battle-mages could be used to cut down trees, and, with a little practice, they managed to saw joists. And that was the extent of the help he got from magical craftsmen. In terms of healing magic, the situation wasn‘t the best either. Only Sir Kerven had any deeper knowledge and two of his men could cure minor wounds and simple colds. To make matters worse, there constantly seemed to be men with injuries or illnesses. And because Sir Kerven was always in the infirmary, his men were unsupervised, which lead to the next disaster. One of the inexperienced aspirants had made a mess of cutting down a tree. The heavy trunk had fallen in the wrong direction and severely injured an unmagical soldier who, in turn, was brought to Sir Kerven‘s infirmary. But even he could do little to help the wounded man, and Ravenor had to order that he be brought back to Naganor, where there were more knowledgeable healers.

So by now Ravenor‘s nerves were on edge. As if I have men left for such things. I have no men to spare! No men and no money, to be precise. Not to mention the inability of my officers. And that was the point that bothered him the most. It almost seemed to Ravenor that the officers were deliberately doing their work badly. Ravenor had appointed Sir Cerdik to take care of the supplies. But that turned out to be a serious mistake. Sir Cerdik completely failed to organise things properly, and then allowed himself to buy wine for the officers from the company‘s already limited funds. After that, Ravenor had relieved Sir Cerdik of his duties and replaced him with Sir Deren, while Sir Cerdik took over a unit of new recruits.

The men came from Falgars Vale because Ravenor deliberately did not want men from the surrounding area in his troop. In his view, it was better to have outsiders than friends or relatives of the local population. But the kind of men that arrived in Brynn downright horrified Ravenor. These were not like the usual hand-picked recruits who found their way into the Prince‘s elite Guard.

The image of the new men when he had first stood before them still haunted him. Dishevelled, crooked, lopsided, devious, weak, dopey... just to name a few of the words that came instantly to Ravenor‘s mind.

Who are these clowns? He later confronted his officers, on how they had ended up with such a mob, and it turned out that Nortwik and Agarat had just taken the first men who had stepped forward. How could they? But Ravenor decided to let it be. That was not exactly a good move, but since they are already here now, we will just have to work with them. With some polishing they will be ready for service. At least that was Ravenor‘s optimistic hope. But not only did he have trouble with Cerdik, Demon and Nortwik, his half brother, Hartwig, also caused problems. The officer kept giving his sibling and commander helpful hints, unasked for and far too often, which irritated Ravenor. He had soon had his fill of it and got rid of Sir Hartwig by sending him on patrol. More specifically, Ravenor had ordered him to travel through the villages in order to register the population and their property. That would keep Sir Hartwig away from the garrison for some time and, moreover, provide some meaningful information. Nobody will talk my ears off anymore! Solving one problem, however, immediately leads to a new one. An escort of ten men accompanied Sir Hartwig – plus the same number of horses. Useful hands which are now missing in the garrison.

As if the problems with the soldiers were not enough, the problems of the decent citizens of Brynn were added to the list. Terrified farmers who did not even dare to look Ravenor in the eye, stuttering their concerns and asking for his help or his judgement. ‚Judgement Day‘ was the most terrifying word to Ravenor‘s ears. Luckily, this dreadful day took place only once a month. But the first of its kind had already shown the young commander the horror, and soon the next day of judgement was due to occur. Still a couple of days left, sighed Ravenor. And he felt like the man being punished, not the one administering the punishment. To make matters worse, wise instructions from Sir Askir kept falling onto Ravenor‘s desk. And far too often at that. In his fancy town, the Lord of River‘s Keep had no idea what was going on deep in the forest. However, he read over Ravenor‘s reports very carefully, making clever comments. For example: “The watchtowers and the fortification wall should be built out of stone.”

Very smart advice, do you mind just sending me the Gray mages for this and some... no, much more money could be of useful too. Or the helpful instruction: “Despite other work, the combat power of the troops should be maintained by doing several hours of exercises each day.” Dear Askir, have you ever performed any heavy physical labour in your noble life, such as carrying tree trunks and digging holes? When thinking of the construction work, Ravenor missed his good friend Eryn painfully. Eryn was diverse in his abilities. From Kerven‘s men only one can perform earth-magic,

and he overdid it in the first few days, causing his brown vein to temporarily dry out. Now he has to wait several weeks before his vein regains its strength. Ravenor‘s thoughts returned to Askir‘s wise advice. Dear Lord Orten, after these men have worked arduously from sunrise to sunset, even I would not take them down and finish them off on the parade ground. Then half of them would report sick the next day and I would have even fewer workers at my disposal. Ravenor drew his new weapon – a pen, dipped it in the ink and began to write an answer to Sir Askir.

Title, title, blah, blah, blah... Sir Askir, In regards to you recent suggestions, they will be put into action - as far as is possible. That is: Not at all. You can be sure that the combat power of the troop is being maintained. Especially the new recruits are being drilled very hard. Because they‘re no good for any kind of work... So I sent them with Sir Cerdik to the parade ground. At least they can‘t cause any damage while they‘re marching up and down. As for enclosing the garrison, the structure will initially be built out of wood. This is due to time constraints, but it will be replaced by a stone enclosure later. Much later, if at all. Here in Brynn such a task makes no sense. Just like your comments, Sir Orten. I actually wonder how you even find the time for such banalities. I can‘t help but assume you are not particularly busy in River‘s Keep. So, here are my concerns: To maintain the equipment, I suggest setting up a blacksmith and a saddlery in Brynn. Well, I am not actually suggesting this as, in wise foresight, I have done it already.

I request for more financial resources to pay for skilled craftsmen. Constant dripping will eventually wear away the stone. Ravenor had already asked for an increase in finances on several occasions, but had always been rejected. And now my lofty titles, blah, blah, blah... below: Sir Ravenor ...and away with it.

Ravenor‘s letter was moved to a small pile of ‚finished documents‘, and the letter from Sir Askir to the file labelled COMMANDS AND INSTRUCTIONS FROM SUPERIORS

– FINISHED. Ravenor pulled the next piece of paper from the pile of ‚unfinished documents‘. This pile was terrifyingly high compared to the one for finished affairs and included requests for material, reports, bills, Hartwig‘s statistics, plans for the coming weeks, etc, etc, etc... At some point Ravenor‘s eyes were burning and his head sank wearily onto the tabletop. I‘ve already had enough and the damn day hasn‘t even started properly. No one was in the room, so Ravenor let down his guard. Being promoted also had some disadvantages and by now he had clearly realised that a commander was no longer a minor officer. Now everything he did was exposed and everyone expected him to present himself in a proper and dignified way.

The rest of the world turned him into a kind of superhuman, who, every minute all day long, had to take care of everyone else‘s needs. The moment of respite did not last long. Someone knocked on the door and Ravenor jerked awake, brushing his hair back with his hands. Then he straightened his shoulders: „Come in.“ The wooden door swung open and the guard entered. „Sir Ravenor, the tax collectors are here.“ Are they here to take away the last bit of my money? Ravenor thought worriedly, but then he remembered. Nonsense, the gentlemen come from River‘s Keep and are here to take the last of the farmer‘s money. I am only responsible for their protection. „Send them in, soldier.“ Five average looking civil servants appeared and crowded into the small office. „Commander, we come from River‘s Keep.“ As if drawing a sword, a skinny, pale member of the group pulled out a letter and held it under Ravenor’s nose. Yes, these are the papers. I do not even have to look at them. Just throw it right onto the pile with the others. „Thank you.“ Ravenor took the envelope, opened it, and skimmed over the page. On it stood the names of his guests and the purpose of their visit. Memorising the first name is sufficient, he decided, the rest... dismissed. Then he looked at his visitors, compelling himself to appear of interested. „Master Savid Gohilm, I am Sir Ravenor, Commander of Brynn.“ A place far too small to be found on the map... The tax master did not show much courtesy, but went straight to his point of concern: „Sir Ravenor, in this area of Two-river Country, a period of two weeks has been scheduled, for the collection of royal taxes.“ Well, didn’t I say it – this place has no name. We are only the surrounding area of River‘s Keep. „Over the last few weeks, one of my officers has been making inquiries regarding the correct land ownership here in this area, and the conclusions are already deviating significantly from the documents which I had available. To visit all these settlements in just two weeks and to evaluate them correctly, that seems to be a very optimistic objective,“ Ravenor opined. But that unbidden assessment scratched at the tax collector‘s honour. „Sir Ravenor, rest assured, we‘ll do our job quickly and correctly, and we‘ll find every last piece of gold that‘s rightfully owed to the King. With the appropriate support of men and steel, the population will quickly be put back on track. And that‘s why every one of us should have an escort of ten men... as it is also said in that letter.“

Damn, that‘s fifty men and all my officers. Absent for a full two weeks. Which means I can completely stop my construction work. Ravenor had completely overlooked that particular passage. But to pick up the letter and re-read it now, would have made him appear pretty unprofessional.

I am sure it‘ll be in there like that. This official throat-cutter certainly doesn‘t lie to me so boldly and I can‘t do anything about it anyway. Ravenor stroked his chin thoughtfully and then reluctantly agreed. „Master Gohilm, I will make the necessary arrangements. If you would like to follow me out, please.“

One hour later, the small garrison had been swept empty. Fifty men had left with the tax collectors and another forty were cutting wood and digging a well. Askir is nagging already. He wants to know when the construction work will finally be completed. Under these conditions, it will certainly be another month. The new men are useless. It really was a mistake to entrust Demon and Nortwik with the recruitment. I should have done that myself.

Just then, his eyes fell to the guard at the gate. The man had set aside his shield, spear, and helmet, and was leaning back against the palisade wall while the gate stood wide open. Ravenor squinted and looked again, but the picture did not change. What kind of fool is he? Hasn’t he learned anything yet, or is he so bold as to let himself go in public? This was no longer the job of a commander, but none of the other officers were around, and so Ravenor decided to take matters into his own hands. He hurried towards the gate and stood tall in front of the man. Now at least, the recruit was trying to stand upright, but what he managed was rather miserable. „What are you doing, Recruit?“ Ravenor snapped. „Um, I‘m guarding the gate, Lord... er... Commander.“ The man was tall and lanky. While speaking, only his stammer revealed that he was nervous while his good-natured face showed no signs of unrest. He is so stupid that he is not even aware of his mistakes. Until now, Ravenor had refused to impose severe penalties, which was also due to the fact that magical punishment was not available. Sir Kerven had convincingly pointed out that he and none of his men were able to work that kind of magic. And since unmagical blows were known to leave real wounds, which would then need healing, that option was out of the question as it would keep the mages busy and further decimate his troop.

It is up to the officers to train and discipline the men. Let‘s hear who has failed so miserably here?

„Name and unit, Recruit!“ Uncomfortably, the man now shifted from one leg to the other. „Rangold, Master. I mean, my name is Rangold and I‘m in the Black Guard now.“ Ravenor closed his eyes for a moment to regain his patience. What an idiot. Then he presented himself extremely calmly and asked, with emphasis, „Who is your officer, Rangold, and by the way it is ‘Sir’, not ‘Master’. You are no longer a civilian.“ But you might be again soon, if I remove you from my troop. „Sorry, Sir Commander. Lord, uh, Sir Cerdik is my officer. Told me to guard the gate.“ „And what do you think ‘guarding the gate’ means?“ Now I would really like to know what‘s going on in that stupid brain and watch this comedy play out until the bitter end. The words, spoken in a nice conversational tone, did not arouse any suspicions, and so Rangold declared honestly:

„Watching, who‘s going in and out, Sir.“ He was very proud that he had said ‚Sir‘ now and not confused the titles. Ravenor fought for self-control and wavered between laughing and raging. „Recruit Rangold, I‘ll explain it to you now and you had better listen, because obviously you did not quite understand the purpose of a guard. First of all, put on your helmet and pick up your shield and spear so you are armed and ready in case of an emergency, and then close the gate and keep it shut.“ One could almost see the cogs turning in Rangold‘s sluggish brain. „But Sir, but if someone comes along now and wants to get in, then the gate is closed?“ Ravenor had shown incredible patience up until now, but this was the final straw. He lost his temper and shouted: „Then you open the gate again. Open – close, open – close. That‘s what you are supposed to do here at the damned gate. Oh and don’t forget to ask people what they want inside the camp. Do you know anything!?” Then Ravenor looked around and wondered. „Shouldn’t there be a second sentry?“ „He had to go for a piss, Sir,“ Rangold answered, then murmured with lowered eyes, „No one has told me anything. If they told me how, then I would do it right.“ „Shut up this instant or I‘ll have you whipped.“ Rangold swallowed and fell silent immediately. An embarrassing silence followed, as the recruit pulled an insulted face and Ravenor fumed. Just then, the second guard came around the corner and understood the situation in an instant. „Sir Ravenor, Regular Orkny returns to duty.“ Orkny was one of Nortwik‘s men, and thus a veteran in the guard. He knew how to make reports, salute, and behave towards a supervisor. That reduced the tension a bit.

„Regular Orkny, in the absence of qualified instructors, you will now explain the most basic fundamentals to Recruit Rangold. And make sure he understands them too. You have the next twenty-four hours, because that is how long you will now do service at the gate without a replacement. Am I understood!?“ „Yes, Sir Ravenor.“ Orkny slammed his heels and presented an impenetrable face. Ravenor was about to leave now when he saw a group of civilians coming down the street. Despite the distance he recognised Trun, the village chief, and other inhabitants of Brynn. Unfortunately, these men were all too familiar to him by now. It never ends. I can almost smell that they want something. There is still time to escape. But the problem, whatever it is, will catch up with me anyway. So I‘ll stay right here. Far too fast for Ravenor‘s liking, the villagers approached the gate and Orkny was exemplarily, stopping them and asking the purpose of their visit. The villagers seemed excited, worried and scared all at the same time, and – who would have guessed – desperately wanted to speak with Sir Ravenor. Orkny kept them bravely out until finally Ravenor ordered resignedly: „Alright, soldier, let the men through.“ I can’t escape anyway. „Yes, Sir Ravenor.“ Orkny stepped aside and Trun led his honour guard of ragged peasants into the courtyard. Then he took a step forward. „Lord, the situation is dire and we need your help.“ Please give me more problems. Hang them over my shoulders. „Explain yourself, good man.“ Trun had taken off his hat and was now kneading it with his hands. „Honourable Commander, the Dunmock has reappeared,” he blurted out hysterically. “For five years there was nothing, but now he‘s back... and my nephew Saporo has disappeared. He went missing two days ago – in the woods. I‘m sure the Dunmock got him. We can’t do anything to stop the Dunmock, but you with all your men and uh... I mean... your reputation as a fighter has spread. Please, save us from the Dunmock!“ Of course! A Dunmock... and what in the devil‘s name is that supposed to be? The man stutters just like this Rangold. Can none of these commoners make coherent sentences? No wonder the nobility considers ordinary people to be stupid as hell. And then an intelligent person like myself is never given a fair chance because the blockheads have messed it up for everyone. „Then first tell me what a Dunmock is and we‘ll see if I can help you.“ Now it became interesting. The villagers all started talking over one another, wildly painting the picture of a terrible monster. But then contradictions began to surface. First the Dunmock was a huge monster – as tall as two men standing on top of each other. Someone claimed his leathery skin was absolutely impenetrable. The next villager, in turn, declared the creature was rather flaky, and another objected immediately, describing the Dunmock as a having a long, shaggy coat and a pointed horn. The next description changed the monster yet again. It had now shrunk to the size of a calf and had two... no, three horns. The Dunmock was incredibly fast and you could barely catch a glimpse of it before it was out of sight again. It was by its penetrating smell that one become aware of the beast‘s presence, long before it could be seen. On that point, at least, there was some agreement. Spitting fire? No, the Dunmock had never been seen doing that. But he tore his prey apart viciously and even crushed their bones with razor-sharp teeth. Hardly a remnant of his victims had ever been found. The Dunmock literally ate them skin, hair and all. His tracks? Three-fingered claws pressed deeply into the ground. The villagers trembled and begged for help until Ravenor finally gave in.

If I help kill the monster, it will gain me favour with the local the population. „Alright, citizens of Brynn, I dedicate myself to the task of killing this Dunmock.“ The description of the creature seems to be grossly exaggerated anyway. What is a Dunmock compared to the monsters of the Nimrod? „Where exactly does this beast commit its misdeeds? I need a guide.“ Once again, wild discussion broke out amongst the villagers. There did not seem to be a single volunteer for the dangerous hunt. Finally, one of the men was pushed forward and Trun said, „Herme knows his way around in the woods quite well. He will accompany you, Sir.“ Herme did not look particularly excited, but he mumbled his approval. Cowards. No wonder they have let themselves be bullied by a monster for years. Well at least this will be a welcome change for me. A far more worthy task than all the administrative stuff here. And the people of Brynn will be grateful if I free them from this oh-so-dangerous Dunmock.

„We leave in half an hour. Get yourself ready, Herme. Ardeen‘s citizens are under my and the rightful King‘s protection. Therefore they can count on the help of the Black Guard.“ At the mention of Ardeen, many faces looked restrained and showed disapproval. These men still feel like people of Gelderon. They will quickly change their minds when the hero of Ardeen releases them from the tyranny of Dunmock. Even before the day‘s work had been done, Ravenor was giving himself plenty of self-praise.

For the past four days, the hunting party had been wandering through the forest. They found the trail only to lose it again after a few hours. Fortunately, they came across it once more and then it disappeared for a second time. In order to find the monster with the help of magic, Ravenor had taken Sir Kerven with him. But fields of unhaer occurred in the forest, well known for their detrimental effect on all kinds of magic. Altogether they were eight men, running through the forest, and none of them was a particularly good tracker. Crap, this Herme can barely follow a trail if it is right in front of him and freshly trampled into the earth. But for that I don’t need a tracker. That I can manage myself. Sadly, Eryn in not here. He would have found the damned beast on the first day, I‘m sure. But he decided to leave – without a single word of farewell. „Traitor,“ he said loudly, and Sir Kerven looked at his commander, dumbfounded. „What do you mean, Sir Ravenor?“ „Oh nothing. Did you find the track again?“ Sir Kerven shook his head and justified himself. „I‘m sorry, Sir, but I can only find the trail if there‘s magic. The unhaer makes it hard for me. I‘m not an unmagical tracker.“ Am I one?! „Of course not. Otherwise we would‘ve found the good Dunmock long ago. And this Herme is no use either,“ Ravenor vented his anger. The villager was a good way ahead and thus out of earshot. „Terrified by the horror stories of Monster-Dunmock, he‘s good for nothing. A damned coward. And those four newcomers I should have better left in the garrison. They are already shitting themselves. If there‘s an emergency, only Corman, you and me are left.“ „I can only agree with you, Sir Ravenor. The new recruits are not particularly... high quality.“ „A nice euphemism for completely unfit. I‘ll have to worry about that when I‘m back.“ A sharp odour penetrated Ravenor‘s nose. „Do you smell that?“ Sir Kerven nodded and looked around magically. „I can’t scan anything,“ he said, then explained, „At least there‘s no living thing around that would fit the description ‚deadly monster‘”. Ravenor was wearing the glove and had the artefact activated, which enabled him to scan on a low level.

„I don’t see anything either, but that doesn’t mean much. As a mage, you know how clever magic can be. If the beast is masking itself? But on one point the villagers all agree. The Dunmock smells severe and that‘s exactly the case here. So summon the men. We will look for the source of this smell.“ Ravenor drew his sword. The Dunmock is fast, and it stinks. Time to be prepared, the creature might be close. As soon as they had gathered, Herme said gloomily: „This awful smell precedes the Dunmock just before he selects his victim and strikes. Too fast and deadly for anyone to defeat him...“ „Stop panicking, Herme!“ Ravenor interrupted harshly. Before my weak newcomers, along with Herme, run away in fear. „I‘m warning you one last time. Another horror story about the Dunmock and it will be my sword that ends your life and not the invincible Dunmock who has been hiding successfully for days now. If he is as powerful as you say, wouldn’t he have attacked us long ago? „ What a miserable game of hide and seek. Monster, show yourself! „Yes, Sir,“ the frightened Herme agreed immediately. His fear was torn between who represented the greater threat to his miserable existence: Sir Ravenor or the Dunmock.

Suddenly there was a rustling in the bushes and one of the recruits jumped aside, startled. Ravenor had to dodge the man, so as not to be knocked over. He stepped on a mossy log and his foot slid out from under him, causing him to stumble backwards into the shrubbery. When he finally found his balance again, his foot landed in very soft mud. The smell was even more disgusting now and Ravenor forgot his dignity as a commander and swore loudly.

„The pox on your ass! Holy shit! What was that?“ But something surprised Ravenor and he wondered, Why is there such slimy soil so far away from any kind of water? So he took a closer look at where he had just stepped. His boot was stuck in a soft, brown, stinking pile of shit. I do not have to be a tracker to know what that is. Eryn and my old man would be sick with laughter if they could see me now. With utmost dignity, Ravenor straightened up. „Gentlemen, I have found the track and it is very fresh. Finally. The Dunmock is nearby. We stay together and when we spot the beast, Regular Corman covers my right flank, and Sir Kerven, you stay to my left. You must also ward off any magical attacks. The rest of you keep in the background and, above all, do not get in my way. From now on no more spoken words. Sir Kerven, telepathize!“ They followed the trail carefully and, after a few metres, Sir Kerven reported: „The tracks are increasing.“ Even Ravenor, with his limited powers from the glove, could see it now. „We are approaching his hideout. Mask our sounds, Sir Kerven, these horned oxen can be heard for miles.“

They reached the edge of a clearing and Sir Ravenor raised a hand to order a halt. Bones of dead animals were strewn everywhere, and above them hung the disgusting smell that had accompanied them since their last stop. Or did the smell come from the residue on Ravenor‘s boots? Now was certainly not the time to answer such questions. Across the clearing lay the dark entrance of a cave which could very well be the hiding place of the Dunmock. They stood hidden behind some bushes and watched as something moved in the shadows of the cave entrance. Then an ugly creature waddled out quietly into the open. It paused and raised its nose, sniffing into the wind. The creature‘s head seemed to be a mix of wolf and pig, with a pointed and sharply serrated horn on its forehead. His scaly back was adorned with a spiky ridge, but the underside of its abdomen was covered in shaggy, and very filthy, fur. Nobody really wanted to know what was sticking in that hair. On short strong legs, the Dunmock now moved a few steps forward, then sniffed again. All in all, he appeared to be a grotesque mix of a variety of animals. „How could he possibly smell anything surrounded by that stench? So that‘s out friend the Dunmock. Half as big as described, but twice as ugly. Sir Kerven, be prepared, I‘ll shoot at him from here and then we‘ll charge.“ „Yes, Sir Ravenor.“

But things went differently than planned. One of the recruits lost his nerve and suddenly ran back into the forest. No sooner had he left the field of Sir Kerven‘s silence charm, when the Dunmock‘s head whipped around at astonishing speed and the beast quickly set off behind the fugitive.

Fool! The Dunmock had not yet discovered the others and obviously thought the man was alone. With a giant leap he jumped onto the man’s back and bit into his neck. The recruit screamed for the last time as the monster tore him to the ground. At that exact moment, Ravenor released a fire-lance and hit hard, cutting off the Dunmock‘s head. The magic fire was so strong that it set a tree ablaze.

Better too much than too little. Hopefully that won‘t burn down the whole forest.

„Sir Kerven, keep an eye on the cave. Maybe the good Dunmock is not alone and a Dunmockess is still hiding in there.“

Then Ravenor walked over to where the dead monster lay beside the fallen man. For the soldier any help came too late. The Dunmock had easily bitten through his iron chest plate and its teeth were still resting deep in the man‘s neck. The monster‘s head had been neatly separated and the scorched corpse was lying beside it. The stench was beastly. Ravenor put his hand over his nose, but that did almost nothing. He left the place quickly and rejoined Sir Kerven and the others, to whom he gave a harsh rebuke.

„Cowardice and thoughtless actions have cost this recruit his life. On top of that, he endangered us all. I hope this is an instructive example for all of you. That is what happens when you do not follow orders.“ Ravenor looked grimly at the embarrassed faces.

„Next we‘ll inspect the cave and you‘ll stay here.“ The ‚we‘ meant Ravenor and Kerven, and none of the others had any objections. „Sir Kerven, send in light and magical eyes.“ They carefully approached the entrance and divided to the left and right. Neither Ravenor nor Kerven saw anything conspicuous with their magical eyes, so they cautiously entered the hiding place. The den was about nine metres squared and was empty... at least as far as other monsters were concerned. But the floor was completely covered with shit and it stank even more dreadfully than outside. Ravenor had to hold his coat over his face to prevent the smell from choking him.

„This is unbearable. Let‘s go.“

Sir Kerven wisely hadn‘t gone too far into the cave and now retreated rather quickly. Outside, Ravenor nearly had to vomit, so cruelly did the stink cling to him. When he had regained control, he ordered:

„Regular Corman, you bring the Dunmock down to the village so everyone can smell that the creature is dead. You can bury our fallen comrade up here. Sir Kerven and I must leave immediately for the garrison, this matter has delayed me too long already. When you are finished here, Herme will show you the way back.“

Corman was not very enthusiastic about his job, but what could he say against it? Being a commander must also have its good sides. Ravenor grinned maliciously then followed Sir Kerven, who had already fled back into the trees. A good distance away from the Dunmock‘s lair the air was filled with the fresh fragrance of the forest, but despite five armour-cleaning spells, the stench of the Dunmock stuck to Ravenor like a burdock.

By the Gods, does this smell never evaporate? „Sir Kerven, can you cast a spell against this stink? Master Eryn knew various spells...“ Sir Kerven, who was currently anxious to stay a few yards from Ravenor, turned around. „Sorry, Sir Ravenor, but I‘m not familiar with such spells. That might be the Circle of White. Unfortunately, I do not know much about it.“ This piece of bad news made Ravenor curse loudly.

The way back was easy to find. They sent magical eyes over the treetops, which gave them the necessary overview. Then they finally hit the river just above the garrison. There was little current so Ravenor waded out in full gear and Sir Kerven did the same.

If I ever want to rid myself of this stench, then this is the way. For some minutes he let the water wash over him and that finally brought the desired relief. „More baths over the next few days will do the rest and my armour must be scrupulously cleaned. How can a being exist in such a stench? He lives in his own shit and it does not bother him at all.“ Sir Kerven was coming ashore. „I can collect flowers magically and make a scented water from them. With that you could mask the smell completely.“ “Then do it. I‘d prefer to smell like the sweet ladies in the brothel than to continue to smell of... oh, you know what.“ While Kerven was diligently gathering, Ravenor kindled a fire and dried his gear. They reached the garrison in the evening. At least the gate is closed properly, Ravenor noticed happily. But when he reached the guards, they immediately told him about the latest incident. Three men had deserted. Probably shortly after Ravenor had left the garrison. But it wasn’t noticed until the evening of the next day, and, because no one really knew what to do in such a case, they had waited for his return. Better to do nothing than to do anything wrong.

There is no point sending a squad after them now. They are long gone. So the encumbered commander let the matter rest. Back in his quarters, Ravenor undressed wearily and handed his armour to a recruit for cleaning. Then he had a bath. By now, probably no one else could smell the Dunmock‘s stink, but Ravenor still had the nauseating aroma in his nose. He leaned back in the tub with a liberating „aaaahhh“ and enjoyed the warmth of the water. But soon his thoughts began to circle around the numerous problems of the garrison. Why did those three fools run off anyway? Apart from the fact that they are good for nothing. So far, not one man has been severely punished or whipped and they all joined the Guard voluntarily. Suddenly Ravenor had a suspicion and he jumped out of the tub. Water flew in all directions and a big puddle landed on the floor next to the tub. But Ravenor did not pay attention to that. Soaking wet he rushed to the company cash box, which he kept locked in his room. He pulled it out of its hiding place and his fear became reality. The lock was broken and the case was empty.

Holy crap. Is this place cursed or what? There was a good 500 gold pieces in there. Money that was not enough anyway. What now? Write a report and receive an unjust rebuke. As usual, Sir Askir will not want to make a decision, and then the matter will go to Lord Boron or Prince Raiden. The Prince – stingy as he is – certainly won‘t give me a single piece of gold in replacement. And what I‘ll get to hear instead, I can well imagine...

‚Sir Ravenor, you should have foreseen that this might happen and taken appropriate precautions. How is it possible that simple thieves could trick you so badly? Now don‘t come whining to me about it. The loss will be replaced with your own money. I won’t stand for your failures...‘

With these prospects I should just keep it to myself and pretend that nothing has happened. I can replace the loss from my funds and nobody will ever find out. His own money he had kept safe somewhere else, so he counted out the stolen amount and put it back in the company cash register. Because he was still naked, he took a new garment from the cupboard and dressed. Then he sat down at the table and began to write a rather factual report of the Dunmock. After that he returned to the agenda, answering one letter after the other. How can such a mountain of paper accumulate in the few days? That remained an unsolved mystery and Ravenor sat behind his desk late into the night. Outside, it was barely dawn when Ravenor was rudely awoken from his dreams. The soldier on guard trampled in and reported hastily:

„Sir, a messenger from Luth. It‘s urgent.“

„I‘ll be ready in a minute,“ Ravenor mumbled to himself as he struggled out of bed.

In the meantime, the soldier had left the room again.

Urgent, what else, Ravenor thought, looking at his face in the mirror. Worse, than if I had been drinking all night. Cold water drove the remains of sleep from his eyes.

Five minutes later, he stepped out into the yard. „Where is the messenger now?“ Close by stood a group of soldiers and now one man broke away from them. Ravenor knew him by sight. He belonged to the Third and was therefore in Sir Demon‘s unit. But Ravenor did not immediately remember his name.

„You come from Sir Demon?“ The man saluted. „Yes, Sir Ravenor. I rode through the night. There has been an unfortunate incident in Luth.“ The man paused and Ravenor looked at him questioningly. Somewhat haltingly, the soldier continued, „While Master Gohilm was trying to do his work, there was an altercation and one of the new recruits was fatally wounded. The culprit was arrested on the spot, but the crowd is very upset and so Sir Demon thought it best to ask you for a decision.”

Luth. I told Askir it would be better to station the force there, not here in the outermost countryside, next to the great village of Brynn and its ragged flock of farmers. Here the biggest concern is a stinking Dunmock... wrong... he was the biggest concern. „This is not good news. I‘ll leave immediately. Twenty men will accompany me.“

„Sir Ravenor,” one soldier interrupted, “there are only ten horses in the stable plus the horses for the officers,“ and the commander corrected himself unceremoniously: „Then ten men and Sir Kerven. As long as I‘m absent, Sir Cerdik takes over the command.“ The night before, Sir Cerdik had returned from his tax mission and, unfortunately, he was the only available officer, while the others were still abroad. Ravenor knew that Cerdik was not up to the task, but he really needed Sir Kerven and his magical skills for the journey to Luth. While Brynn had been settled by farmers, Luth lived from trade and travellers. The city was a run down nest full of rubble. There were a few poor lodgings and some filthy inns inhabited by the correspondingly dodgy clientele. Those carrying goods did so under the protection of an armed escort. In short, the law was widely forgotten in Luth and anything resembling ‚respectable citizens‘ was virtually impossible to find there.

I would not be surprised if I met the three deserters here. But this wish was not fulfilled. In Brynn, Ravenor had scraped together the last remnants of experienced men and taken them with him. Now they were riding in two neat rows along the main street and gloomy looks and scathing remarks followed their arrival. The attitude of the residents was noticeably hostile. I can count on the veterans. But I don‘t want to think about what could happen if one of the greenhorns loses his nerve in such a situation. Things could easily end up like they did in the case of the Dunmock... or worse. If the mob goes wild, it could cost more than one life. In the absence of a town hall, Sir Demon and his men had occupied the town‘s largest inn. There they

kept their prisoner too. The innkeeper was the closest thing to a village chief. A lot of folk had gathered in front of the building, and Ravenor immediately noticed that most of them were armed.

They all look as if they know how to handle their weapons. Hard, dubious faces. But the mob kept calm. They are probably only interested in witnessing the conviction of the accused. Despicable onlookers, present as always. Ravenor dismounted and ordered the men to wait outside while he entered the inn with Sir Kerven. The building was aptly called ‘Local Inn‘, and after the entrance they came straight into the main room. Looking around, Ravenor got a rough idea of the situation. Sir Demon was present with six of his men and ordered the salute to greet their commander. The tax collector was a few steps away from the group of soldiers, and next to him were two other civilians. Probably officials of the town, Ravenor surmised, then he locked gaze with his officer. „Sir Demon, please inform me of the situation here.“ Although the messenger had already described the incident, Ravenor wanted to hear the information first hand. „Yes, Sir Ravenor. We were carrying out a survey of the population on behalf of Master Gohilm, when an argument broke out between Recruit Nathan and a civilian named Lorden.“

From the background, the fat civilian added diligently, „Lorden the Drunk, as he is called here.“

But Sir Demon ignored the interruption and continued steadfastly. „In the ensuing fight, Lorden suddenly drew a knife and stabbed Nathan without hesitation. Any help came too late and all we could do was to arrest the murderer. The man is guarded down in the basement. Metman, the owner of this inn, has kindly made his house available to us until the matter is settled.“ Sir Demon certainly insisted on that, Ravenor speculated. „You represent the citizens of Luth?“ He turned towards the fat man, who bowed profusely.

„Metman is my name, Sir. Since the Gelderon officials left Luth, there have been no proper police officers here. But, if you will, we – Mr Kaldor, the doctor, and I – are the most influential and decent citizens of this city.“ He likes to hear himself talking. In Ardeen, it was common for citizens of a town to elect a council that represented their interests.

This council made decisions regarding many aspects of the city and its citizens. It also had a say on

affairs further afield, though the military commanders of the area always had the final say.

As far as Ravenor could remember, Gelderon regulated its administration by employing officials. But he could not remember the exact rules. Ravenor‘s knowledge of Ardeen‘s laws was somewhat modest too. Honestly, he had shown no interest in law until he had had to hold court days in Brynn. But the farmers there had no idea of the law either, and who there would blame the commander for any mistakes? In Brynn it was all neighbourly disputes and other trifles that he had to deal with, but here the charge was murder. Is that a matter of martial law? Then the trial would be easy. „Is there a judge here in the village? Or at least in the area?“ Metman and Kaldor looked at Ravenor in bewilderment. „Commander, we do not even have a prison here. If such, er... things happen, justice it quickly taken care of. We all work together in such cases.“

Aha, that suits me. But I will hold a public trial anyway. Just to make it clear that Ardeen law has come to this area. I don’t know the exact procedures of such a trial, but they don‘t know it either. So it’s all about good acting. „Very well then, as the military commander of Two-river Country, I will speak justice. The process will take place publicly tomorrow. Until then, I have to occupy this building here in the name of Ardeen. I hope you do not mind, Mister Metman?“

The landlord was overly helpful. „It‘s an honour, Commander. The valued gentlemen may consider themselves my guests. Honestly, I‘m truly glad that law and order has come back to Luth. And you‘re a man I trust without any hesitation.“ Toad. „Reinstalling order in this town is certainly well overdue, Mister Metman.“ Ravenor showed strong confidence, but he also had an ulterior motive. Most importantly, our lodgings are for free. Let the fat man say whatever he likes, as long as I do not have to give him a single coin from my modest means.“Sir Demon and Sir Kerven, please follow me into the next room. I want to discuss how to next proceed.“ But before they could retreat, Master Gohilm stepped forward and addressed Ravenor. „Sir Ravenor, if you could spare a moment, I would like to talk to you.“ But I do not want to talk to you. „You certainly understand that I must first devote myself to this important matter. After that, I will surely find a moment to listen to your concerns. When that time comes, I‘ll let you know. And now please excuse me.“ Good bye. I don‘t want to hear any more whining tirades about the appalling conditions here. And what else can this disgusting administrator-dog have to say?

An area had now been closed off in front of the tavern, using simple wooden posts and ropes. The high court sat with its back to the building and was ready to pass judgement. Strictly speaking, only Ravenor, in his role as judge, and Sir Kerven, who acted as a clerk, were seated. Beside them Sir Demon had lined up with his soldiers and they were all holding sharp blades in their hands. This prevented the numerous spectators from entering the open area. „Let‘s get started. Sir Demon, fetch the prisoner.“

The order was passed on and, shortly after, the criminal Lorden was dragged before Sir Ravenor and forced to his knees. His hands were tied behind his back.

When Sir Demon began to read the charges and the crowd fell silent.

They had worked out the text together the previous day, and Ravenor was anxious to get the matter over with as quickly as possible. During the official introduction and description of the incident, Ravenor watched the prisoner and the gathered mob closely. Lorden was a drunkard and seemed to be no longer of sound mind. This became quite clear when Sir Demon asked for a confession.

„Do you admit to the stabbing of the Recruit Nathan?“

„Butchered him like a pig, the son of a bitch.“ Lorden laughed hoarsely and then bragged, „Has molested me, the Ardeen-dog. Wanted to lay a hand on me but... ha-ha-ha... my knife was faster.“

The crowd was seething, but not because they felt sorry for Lorden. Most of those present saw the soldiers from Ardeen as occupiers, and there were even occasional shouts that revealed their blatant hostility towards Ardeen.

„The accused thus confesses his deed,“ Sir Demon went on unperturbed, and Lorden babbled in between:

„Yes, I killed the mangy dog. Bled like a pig. Ha-ha-ha.“

„The accused only has to speak when he is asked!“ Sir Demon told him, and the soldier beside Lorden hit the culprit on the back with the shaft of his spear to emphasise the words. For a moment, Lorden cried out and then mumbled something incomprehensible to himself, which made him laugh hoarsely again. „As a representative of the laws of Ardeen, Sir Ravenor, Adjutant of the Black Prince and Commander of Brynn, will now speak in the name of the King,“ Sir Demon proclaimed, and Ravenor was given the floor. This creature deserves death, but I will act mildly. „A life has been taken and the question of guilt undoubtedly clarified by a confession. According to the laws of Ardeen, the punishment for this is death. However, mercy can be granted if the accused deeply regrets his deed. Then the sentence is tempered to lifelong work in the mines. I ask the accused Lorden whether he regrets his actions?“ Lorden grinned roguishly at Ravenor and then began to laugh. „Ha-ha. Bloody crap! I will not go to the mines. I‘d prefer to go to heaven immediately. And you, Ardeen-scum, can go to hell – all of you! Give me a knife and I‘ll help you on the way. Ram it into your throat, you fucking Ardeen bastard! Ha-ha.“ Sir Ravenor gave Sir Kerven a signal and the mage silenced Lorden magically. The spectators became even more restless and the atmosphere could change any moment. Now, strength must be demonstrated. „As the accused shows no remorse, I hereby sentence him to death by sword in the name of the King of Ardeen. The punishment is to be carried out immediately. Soldier!“ Next to the convict stood a young soldier, and Sir Ravenor looked at him encouragingly. The man understood what was expected of him, but seemed very uncertain and fumbled awkwardly on the hilt of his sword. The pause became uncomfortably long and there was so much tension in the air that an open revolt could break loose every moment.

Crap, that‘s one of the new recruits. He is too afraid to behead the man. He has probably never sent someone into the afterlife before. If he hesitates any longer, the entire population of Luth will think we are weaklings. Ravenor waved a hand, but the soldier did not move. Ugh, no choice but to do it myself. He stood up to clarify the situation.

„Step aside. To show everyone what happens to those who insult Ardeen or myself, I will carry out the sentence on my own.“

Relief washed over the recruit‘s pale face and he took a step back. With a fluid motion, Ravenor‘s sword slid out of it‘s sheath. Lorden stared challengingly at Ravenor then spat in the sand right at the commander‘s feet. Ravenor swung the blade in a semicircle and with a single blow he cut off Lorden‘s head. The head flew sideways and the decapitated body tipped slowly forwards. Grimly, Ravenor noticed the mood of the crowd change abruptly. A mixture of respect and fear now appeared on their faces, and most of them took their hands off the handles of their weapons. Well, they will hold back now. „The law has been served and the session is over,“ he announced, then turned to his officers and ordered, „Sir Demon, get rid of the corpse, Sir Kerven, please follow me!“ Luth needs my attention, but first I have to fix the problems in Brynn. Ravenor spent another two days in Luth. He wanted to station some of his men in this filthy border town, but lacked both financial resources and the approval of his superiors. Thus he was anxious to seek some allies.

Although Ravenor did not particularly like his host, Mister Metman, together with Kaldor the doctor, had at least shown an interest in restoring order to Luth. The two men knew the people here and had some influence. Ravenor hoped for long-term support of his project.

And then there was Master Gohilm, who had patiently waited for Ravenor to give him an audience. As might be expected, he complained extensively about the unsustainable conditions here in Luth and how disparagingly he, a respected official of His Highness, had been treated here.

What did the fart expect? Ravenor revealed nothing of his true thoughts and expressed his deepest regrets. Secretly, however, he laughed maliciously at the wretch. He who takes well-earned money away from other people, deserves nothing else.

„Master Gohilm I understand your outrage very well, but I myself have too few men to control the whole country. I can only advise you to visit Commander Askir in River‘s Keep and describe to him the drastic situation here. He decides on the deployment of troops and increases in financial resources.” Maybe the good Master Gohilm will soften Askir‘s miserly heart and he‘ll finally grant me more money. Later that day, Ravenor rode back to Brynn. In his absence, nothing in the garrison had progressed, but that did not surprise him anymore. Meanwhile, all the other officers and their units had come back safely and that alone could be considered a success. Ravenor found his diligent officers in the common room of their barracks. They had already seen him approaching through the window, and the wine bottles had quickly disappeared from the table. But, all too well, Ravenor knew the stale smell that hung heavily in the air.

So the gentlemen have once again been enjoying themselves, whilst I am almost suffocated in work. I‘ll make sure you get your share too, but first the troop needs to be sorted out. I‘m just in the mood for major changes.

„Gentlemen, have the new recruits attend outside. I‘ll take a closer look at the men and then send the unfit home.“

„But Sir Ravenor, the Guard has never dismissed soldiers for no reason?“ Sir Nortwik allowed himself to observe. Didn‘t I just give a simple order? „Sir Nortwik, you are quite right. But the usual recruits serving in the Black Guard are carefully selected men. The best of the best. Whereas these new men are mostly useless. Surely you will have noticed that already. Through their own incompetencies, two of them have died in a very short time. And, on top of that, they have endangered the lives of their comrades through their amateurish behaviour. Some men are simply not suitable for service as soldiers and that, Sir Nortwik, is something you should have recognised during the selection process. You and Sir Demon. Now I must urge the unfit recruits to leave the troop at once... and I myself will then look for suitable replacements. Any questions? Ravenor didn‘t expect an answer, but Sir Hartwig, his half-brother, raised concerns. „Ravenor, some of them just need a little more time. You should not decide too hastily.“ Am I being lectured? Unasked for and without being respectfully addressed? Patience, one thing at a time. First the recruits and then this lot here.

He ignored the objection and ordered, „In ten minutes, I expect the entire troop to be outside. I also need a list with the names. Hurry up! Do something for your money, gentlemen, and move.“ „Yes, Sir Ravenor!“ At least his officers were now showing some respect. He left the room in a rather good mood and walked across the courtyard, humming a cheerful tune. The song was a well-known one, ‚Land of joy‘.

„Ardeen, Ardeen, land of light,

Here the sun it shines so bright.

Arvon, Arvon, glorious town,

here I am now on my own.

Ardeen, Ardeen, radiant star,

and my girl is so far...“

The song had an infinite number of stanzas, each of them ringing with praise for Ardeen. And although Ravenor had not even started sorting out the useless recruits, he was already feeling tremendously liberated.

Now I‘m sending you back to the realm of the civilians. You useless, clumsy nobodies. Not everyone can be such a brilliant hero, like me.

Ravenor could hardly believe it when, at the appointed time, the recruits stood before him in rank and file... or close enough to that anyway. Two chairs and a table had been brought into the yard and Ravenor seated himself. The place beside him was taken up by Sir Kerven, who was holding the lists in his hand. Ravenor would have liked to put his feet on the table to make himself even more comfortable, but unfortunately that was definitely not the proper behaviour of a commander. Sir Kerven’s duty was to read out from the list, who was to be discharged. But first Ravenor wanted to inspect the recruits by sight and also in their minds. That‘s why he‘d asked Sir Kerven to spy on the men secretly, and pass their thoughts on to Ravenor.

Too bad that I can‘t read thoughts. That is such a useful ability. „Ready, Sir Kerven?“ „Yes, Sir Ravenor.“ The other officers had lined up beside their commander. That lazy pack can stand to attention for a while. That’s only fair.

„All right, Sir Demon, could you please get started.“

The officer cleared his throat, then he explained to the attended recruits what this was all about, and finally called up the first name. A thin man stepped forward and Sir Demon worked his way through a brief list of questions. The man gave stuttering answers, and Sir Kerven passed on his first piece of classified information. „He is thinking about how he had failed to be taken as a butcher’s apprentice and how he hopes to earn some money here instead.“ So what does he want here, if he can not even butcher a pig? Weak, stupid and useless. The crushing verdict was quickly made. „Dismissed. He is released from the Guard. The next one, please.“ But the weakling did not agree with his dismissal. „Excuse me, Sir Ravenor, may I ask a question?“ Well, a very last question shall be granted. „Speak your mind, civilian.“ „I was told that, once in the Guard, a man can not be dismissed? So I enlisted and should stay. I have done nothing wrong.“

Ravenor put his hands together and grinned devilishly. „You are not entirely wrong. That‘s why you‘ll ask for your dismissal yourself or... if you don’t, I‘ll cross blades with you, personally, and beat you until you‘re truly unfit – or worse. Do you have any further questions, civilian?“ That intimidated the man and he gave in. „No, Sir Ravenor, I ask for my dismissal.“ „Well, then we agree. And now the next, please.“ They followed one after the other. Sometimes Ravenor made a decision after the first few sentences, whereby Sir Kerven‘s information was very helpful. If he was not sure, then he made the men perform with the sword in order to assess their potential better. Hardly anyone could stand up to his harsh judgement, and then came his personal friend – the man named Rangold. Ah, this will be a short pleasure. He still can not stand up straight. „Name!“ „Um, Rangold, Sir.“ „He feels out of place here and wonders if it was all a mistake.“ I absolutely agree. He is as bad a soldier as I am a farmer. „Why did you volunteer?“ „Hmm, I just wanted to do something else and I thought maybe soldiering would be something for me, er, Sir.“ Oh, our good Rangold can think. I am curious what he did before. Sir Kerven was already revealing this information. „He was a cobbler and wants to look for such a job again once he‘s out. He thinks he was a good shoemaker.“ Ravenor ears pricked at the word ‘shoemaker’ and the devastating ‚unfit‘ verdict got stuck in his throat. I certainly don’t need Rangold as a soldier, but I do need someone who can handle leather, and quiet urgently. „Recruit Rangold, what did you do before you came here?“ Ravenor asked airily. „Sir Commander, I was a cobbler. For many years, and did that very well.“ I already know that from my magical spy. „And why didn’t you stick with it?“ „Well.“ Rangold actually managed to scratch his head in embarrassment. „Sir... er, Sir, it‘s an ugly story. I was assistant to a master in Falgars Vale. Me and Brun. The master always praised me for my work and I was the top assistant and soon to become a master myself. But Brun started a love affair with the master’s daughter and then everything turned bad and they denigrated me and talked badly until the master didn’t like me anymore and gave Brun preference. I thought that very unfair and had had enough. So I left the same day. Did not know where to go when the Sirs came along and said they were looking for men. Yes, that‘s how it was.“

A shoemaker and almost a master in this profession. Is he really as good at his job as he claims? I can not imagine that that fellow is good in any profession. On the other hand... Ravenor considered for a moment and then showed himself to be sympathetic. „Bottomless injustice and ugly intrigues. Such can truly take down a decent man. And as a cobbler you are really that good? What did you do in the craft business?“ „Sir, just about everything. Shoes, clothing, straps, saddles. I started out as an apprentice when I was still a child and have been in the business for fifteen years. And I would like to say goodbye to this place and become a cobbler again.“ What a happy coincidence. Fifteen years in the craft business and he has done almost everything... „Rangold, your request is rejected. I have a very special job for you. From now on you will take over the shoemaking here in the garrison. Next!“ And I hope that he is as good as he says he is. A civilian Master would cost me much more.

Rangold was not sure if he had understood correctly, and Sir Demon looked confused as well.

„Uh, Sir, am I still a recruit?“ Rangold asked, bewildered.

„You are, Rangold,“ Ravenor said happily, „with special duties. You will have your own shoe workshop here.” But just to make things clear, Ravenor pointed out, “However, if you leave the troop without permission, that would be desertion and for that you can be severely punished. And now step back into the ranks!“

I will not let him go. And he has also given me an idea of how to save money on specialists. Rangold, I‘m really thankful. Ha, today is a lucky day. At the end of the evaluation, only eleven out of thirty-five men were left. The dismissed had to hand over all their equipment and were allowed to... no, had to leave the garrison the same day. On foot and through the gate, which closed behind them forever.

Meanwhile, Ravenor set off with Sir Kerven. They took the tunnel stone to Wyvernwall and from there they jumped magically to Falgars Vale. „So, Sir Kerven, I will first pay my respects to Sir Ulwen and you can start finding suitable men immediately. But before they‘re allowed to enlist in the troop, I want to check them all myself. And as well as that, I need some extra recruits with special skills: blacksmiths, stonemasons, builders, cobblers, carpenters – these are the preferred professions. If the men meet both requirements, soldier and craftsman, it would be the best. Like me – before my military career I was a blacksmith.“ Kerven nodded. He understood immediately what Ravenor was on about with his ‘special recruits’. On his way to the Commander of Falgars Vale, Ravenor considered the situation. Among my officers, Kerven is the only really useful one. When I‘m back in Brynn, I‘ll have to deal with the others. A reprimand is long overdue. To rebuke my former comrades feels weird. In the past we often drank wine and played cards together. But now I‘m their commander and, the way things are now, can‘t go on. To recruit the new men took more time than Ravenor had initially expected. Even though Sir Ulwen, Demon‘s father, generously gave them his support. First, a loud announcement was made in the marketplace that the Black Guard was looking for men. It was a very lucrative offer, but this time Ravenor was extremely picky and he was also looking for men with special skills.

With more money he could have resolved the situation differently, but the empire of Ardeen was extremely stingy with its financial means, as if it was facing bankruptcy. And what he was doing was not entirely correct either, because soldiers were not supposed to be misappropriated. But what other choice did he have? Finally, Ravenor had his troop together. He had found two blacksmiths, a carpenter‘s apprentice and a carpenter‘s assistant, as well as a stonemason. Although the stonemason was not the right age for recruitment in the Guard, he had a great deal of experience in his profession and had often worked with a builder. Ravenor would have preferred a real builder, but whoever had achieved such a high position was hardly willing to begin as a mere recruit in the army. Building was a respected and extremely lucrative profession. The rest of the men were tough guys who could become decent soldiers. Ravenor brought his ‚loot‘ quickly back through the gates.

Meanwhile, very little had happened in the garrison, but Ravenor had not expected much anyway.

The well and the buildings were still unfinished, waiting for diligent workers to take care of them. But since diligent workers required diligent supervisors, no progress was made. The good officers had a cushy job and did not even consider doing their best. A short drill, keeping watch, the organisation of provisions – that was really important – and with that their day‘s work was done.

At the first sign of a problem with the construction, they immediately and unanimously decided to wait for the commander. Their motto was: Before doing something wrong, better to do nothing. And this attitude gave them a lot of free time for their pleasures. The arrival of the new men led to a day of unpleasant hustle and bustle in Brynn and the officers ran back and forth in the yard, while Ravenor, once again, had to drag himself through an immense pile of paper. When things had settled down and Ravenor had finally finished his work, he noticed that it had long been dark outside. The clock showed eleven already, and, thoughtful, Ravenor went over to the window, where something immediately caught his eye.

There is still light in the officer‘s mess. Obviously they are sitting together comfortably at a game and drinking alcohol. Slowly, I am beginning to really hate them. I struggle away under all the work while they do nothing but the bare necessities and otherwise enjoy life. So... I really am fed up with their attitude now. Despite the late hour, Ravenor decided to take action immediately. His uniform was straightened and, with a highly official air, he set off. With a few steps he crossed the yard and pushed open the door to the mess hall. In truth, the room was only an anteroom to the officer‘s sleeping quarters. But it was quite sufficient as a hang out for all the usual pleasures. Demon and Cerdik sat together playing cards, and a bottle of wine stood on the table with two glasses next to it. When Ravenor came in, Demon glanced up before looking back at his hand. Casually, he remarked, „Hello Ravenor, are you joining the game?“ From Cerdik came a a similar greeting, while he pulled out a card and put it on the table. They still think I‘m their drinking buddy! „Is that a greeting fit for your Commander, gentlemen officers?“ He asked sourly, causing him to gain their attention at least. „Ravenor, what‘s that? I‘m not on duty,“ said Demon, and he was immediately backed up by Cerdik. „Exactly, duty was over three hours ago and will not start until tomorrow morning. Nortwik is on duty. He controls the guards tonight.“

Ravenor put both hands on the table and leant towards Demon.

„Wrong, Demon, when I show up, you‘re always on duty. And, in case it has escaped your attention, I am no longer one of your drinking buddies, but rather your Commander. And now get off your lazy ass!“

Sir Demon‘s expression changed from ‚stunned‘ to ‚what am I going to do now‘ and then ‚he‘s serious and I better play his game‘.

Extremely reluctantly, Sir Demon got up and ordered, „Attention! Salute the Commander.” Whereupon Cerdik too rose to salute.

Well, I‘ve won the first power game. By the way, a wise decision, Demon. Because I would have hit you with my bare fist if you had continued to withhold the due respect. And now for step two.

„Sir Demon, you and the other officers will report to me in my office in five minutes. A few things need to be discussed.“ „Yes, Sir Ravenor.“ Demon stared straight ahead and was obviously offended. On the way back to the office, Ravenor considered how he would punish them next. He sat down behind his desk and waited tensely. They soon arrived. The rumble outside was followed by relatively timid knocking at the door.

They are probably fostering the hope that I‘ll ignore them. „Come in!“

His six officers now entered the room and lined up for a proper greeting. Ravenor, too, had risen to his feet and walked around the table to build himself up in front of the men. Ravenor was a tall and handsome man, and his stature alone made others tremble, especially if he made a grim face. „I have asked you to come, because I am generally dissatisfied with your work and your attitude,“ he came straight to the point, then paused in order to add weight to his words and study their faces.

I do not need to read minds to know the thoughts of these gentlemen. They are somewhere between rebellion and ‚kiss my ass‘. Sir Kerven, stop spying on my thoughts immediately. The mage turned bright red and looked at the floor, embarrassed. Hit and sunk. „You all enjoy yourselves a little too much in my opinion. As soon as I‘m away on a mission, not the slightest bit of progress is made here. You‘ve really made yourselves comfortable out here in the middle of nowhere and are probably quite satisfied with the way things are, aren‘t you?“ A trick question that, wisely, none of the men answered and then Ravenor thundered: „But I am not satisfied! The tasks, assigned to you, you do either badly or not at all. That‘s how it was, but that‘s over now!“ „Sir Ravenor, may I know what exactly you are talking about?“ Sir Demon dared to ask, and in a flowery-soft voice so much like Prince Raiden‘s, the commander replied: „Of course, Sir Demon. Let‘s start with your offences. In Falgars Vale, you and Sir Nortwik picked up the lowliest scum of men and brought them here as new recruits. Three of this useless bunch deserted in no time, two were killed, and the kid in Luth didn‘t follow my order to execute the prisoner. Finally, I had to execute the culprit myself to save the situation, because the mob was on the brink of rebellion – in case you missed that, Sir Demon. But you‘re pretty shallow anyway.“

The Agarat offspring pressed his lips together and said nothing. But Ravenor was not yet done with him, „In the end, I had to dismiss most of those men and look for replacements myself. And looking at your work more closely, I also realise, the buildings are still not finished, the new recruits have learned almost nothing, and, should you ever come to a point where you do not know what to do... which happens all too often... then your decision favours sweet idleness. The usual excuse for that is, you need to wait for my instructions.“ Then he shouted, „Do you really think I‘m that stupid!“

With a more moderate tone, Ravenor continued. „Do you know what I‘m going to do now? I hereby appoint you my deputy. Unofficially of course, and without a salary increase, but with the corresponding responsibilities. In case I can‘t take care of a matter myself, from now on you have to make sure that things work out the way I imagine. And you will answer for it. If the men don‘t obey, you may impose severe punishments. Because I will also impose severe punishments if I continue to dislike the result of your work. Congratulations on the promotion, Sir Demon.“

„Thank you, Sir Ravenor,“ Demon spat before pressing his lips into a thin line. By now, everyone should have realised how serious the situation was. But, quiet astonishingly, another officer dared to open his mouth. „Sir Ravenor, with all due respect, punishing the men with lashes would only make them unfit for duty. That can‘t really be in your interest, can it?“

I would not have thought that Hartwig would choose this very moment for his words of wisdom. Ravenor‘s eyebrows went up in disbelief.

However, this advance of criticism came at just the right time to denounce even more grievances. Ravenor walked down the line and then stopped right in front of his half-brother.

„Sir Hartwig, I can‘t remember asking for your opinion. If I felt it worthy, I‘d ask you. But while that is not the case, I don‘t want to hear any more superfluous teachings from you! And don‘t get any ideas about our relationship. Everyone here plays by the same rules. You in particular should know that blood means nothing at all – nothing but a place in the Guard. Do you understand that!“ That‘s exactly what he explained to me years ago.

Now Hartwig swallowed, for he had not meant to disrespect. But he realised that Ravenor was deadly serious.

„Yes, Sir Ravenor,“ he quickly agreed.

All right. Now for the next one. „Oh, and there‘s something else. Sir Kerven is absolutely capable of handing out magic blows, as Master Eriwen assured me at my latest request. So the men won‘t be made unfit for service – as you were worrying before.“

That invalidated Hartwig‘s argument completely and Sir Kerven‘s face became even redder.

„Which brings me to you, Sir Kerven. In fact, you turned out to be the most useful officer I have here. But there‘s one small offence you‘ve committed. You lie to my face blatantly, just to avoid getting your sensitive mage‘s hands dirty. You seem to have confused the words ‚can‘t‘ with ‚don‘t want to‘.“

Kerven was not a dishonest character. He was, like most mages, of a gentler nature, and had actually just wanted to avoid the nevertheless very unpleasant work of punishment.

„Excuse me, Sir Ravenor. Won‘t happen again,“ he muttered.

„You‘re right, it won‘t. Perhaps you will find one of your men who also has this ability, otherwise you will be responsible for all the magical punishments from now on. Don‘t worry, it‘s not as if you have to cut off anyone‘s head. Besides, it is only for severe reasons that penalties are imposed.“

Sir Kerven gave a further approval and Ravenor let him go.

That leaves Cerdik, Nortwik and Deren. He starred at his prey like a raptor.

„I know exactly the way you think, gentlemen. Admittedly, not so long ago I thought the same way you did. But now I have been given greater responsibility and I do not intend to fail in this task. My goal is now also your goal. I dislike anyone here who hopes to spend his time in comfort and sees his greatest task in successfully avoiding any work.“ Then he looked directly at Cerdik. “The fact that I used to sit with you often...“ his gaze wandered over to Deren, „or even shared a room with you... Well, you can forget about that once and for all. I‘m not your drinking buddy, I‘m your Commander and that at all times of the day and night. That‘s how things will work in the future.“

He let the words settle for a moment, then dismissed them. „You can leave now and think it all over. Tomorrow morning, however, I expect a different attitude from my officers.“

The men saluted and disappeared, leaving Ravenor alone in his study.

Now I have no friends left, he thought wistfully. Then he raised his chin defiantly. But that was necessary to get decent officers.

For the next few days, the relationship between the officers and their commander was very distant. But they worked much more efficiently now, and everything finally began to develop as Ravenor had always imagined.

Only for the miserable state of their finances there was no solution in sight. All funds had to be requested from Sir Askir, and Ravenor sent letters at regular intervals. Begging letters, as he secretly called them. Askir‘s answers, however, always sounded the same. Another such letter had just fallen on Ravenor‘s desk.

Since no further funds are granted from the highest authority, you must manage with what is at your disposal. Set your goals accordingly lower and refrain from expensive building measures, whose meaning and purpose seems questionable to me anyway.

Pah, meaning and purpose questionable. A base must be built in Luth. Ravenor had once again tried to explain the need for such a measure. Unfortunately, Sir Askir saw no such necessity.

Luth is the key point between Aspengate and Gelderon. As he did so often, Ravenor now studied a map of the area. With the appropriate infrastructure, Luth could become a central hub. A road from Aspenway to Luth, via Brynn, that would be something. Damn, I don‘t need soldiers, I need Gray mages. One Company of Gray mages and I could change this country.

He called for the guard and ordered, „Fetch me Sir Kerven and Sir Demon, at once!“ The man went and soon after Sir Kerven entered and saluted. „Sir Kerven, we need Gray mages,“ Ravenor blurted out, and his officer seemed slightly confused. „Sir Ravenor, then you must contact Ragnitor, where Gray mages are trained.“

I know that. „I do not have the means to hire a Gray mage. I was more thinking of normal men, talented in the Circle of Gray, which you then train. Working stones can‘t be that difficult...“ After all, Eryn had managed that too.

Ravenor looked hopefully at his mage, but the expression on Sir Kerven‘s face said it all.

„Uh, Commander, that‘s not so easy. First a man must have a sufficiently strong vein, and then it takes a very long practice period to master the art of magic.“

That was not exactly what Ravenor wanted to hear. „I know that already. Nevertheless, I want you to scan the entire troop to find out whether there might be someone useful among the recruits. First you get yourself an overview of the Circles the men have. Perhaps, surprisingly, we‘ll find a talent among them.“

Sir Kerven did not seem particularly convinced, but he kept his opinion to himself. Then he was dismissed because the guard had already reported Sir Demon’s arrival. The officers brushed past each other as the Agarat sprout entered the room.

„Sir Demon, please, have a seat.“ Ravenor pointed to the empty chair, on which the officer settled himself in the correct military position.

Can‘t they just be a little more relaxed? I only gave them a reprimand, and that with good reason. But they‘ve been pulling offended faces for days now.

„Sir Demon, I will take sixty men with me to Luth and you are to stay here and oversee the training of the new recruits.“

„Yes, Sir Ravenor.“ The words were neither joyous nor pained and Sir Demon did not seem to want to say anything more, so an uncomfortable silence hung in the air.

Wow, seems that all questions have already been answered. Fucking offended faces. At first they can‘t hold their tongues now they say nothing at all. Do I have to play nurse for their wounded souls now too? When I think back on how I was been treated in their position... I was beaten all the time and almost every supervisor picked on me. Ravenor sighed and gave in. Alright, I‘ll talk to him.

„Sir Demon, I am entrusting

you with a great responsibility. We are no longer at Naganor, where the main concern was whether the latrine pits had been emptied or not, and an officer had to take responsibility for nothing but his ridiculous twenty men. Out here, the challenges are far greater and and more varied, and I am a man of ambition. It is not my intention to sit here in Brynn and wait for my dismissal at some point in the distant future. No, I‘m going to change this country. I will restore order here and do my job better than anyone else could. For the first time in my life, I have the opportunity to make a difference. But that will only be possible if you, all of you here, share my attitude. Let me tell you something Sir Demon: You will rise or you will fall with me. Think about it, and finally start identifying yourself with the assigned tasks, not just going through the motions.“

Sir Demon actually seemed thoughtful and Ravenor continued:

„In Falgars Vale, I went to see your dear father and we talked about you too. As a matter of fact, he talked to me about you. He said you don‘t think about the future and only indulge in gambling. He hopes that one day you will become commander yourself, but, on the other hand, he doesn‘t have the confidence in you.“

My old man doesn‘t think much of me either, but that doesn’t matter right now. „It‘s up to you to prove him wrong.“ Ah, he‘s beginning to sense that I‘m not his enemy.

„As long as I‘m in Luth, you‘ll have to take care of everything here. Don‘t worry, I‘ll give you an induction over the next few days. As you know, the company has very limited resources. Almost none. So we have to keep our heads above water on our own.“

Now Demon nodded in agreement and the expression on his face reflected a growing interest.

„In order to reduce the cost of food, we will send out hunting troops and start our own agriculture,“ Ravenor began to go into detail. „The remaining money can then be used to procure tools and raw materials. You‘ll see to it that the blacksmith and the shoemaker‘s shop get going. Without funds, we only have the labour of the men at our disposal, and since we will hardly meet an enemy army in the foreseeable future, the training of the recruits can take a little longer than normal. Most of the time the men will have to do ‚pioneering work‘. Find out who has some talent and assign them accordingly. Let‘s call it ‚garrison construction work‘. This can also be written in the daily reports – in case someone shows any interest in the details later.“ Although, as far as I know Master Werge, he reads everything that finds its way on his desk. I‘ve often wondered, how he can do that in such a short time? So let‘s hope that such unimportant notes get stuck in River‘s Keep with Askir and one day he will light a nice little fire with them.

Ravenor pulled the usual paperwork into the middle of the table and began briefing Sir Demon.

The days flew by and Sir Ravenor had begun to settle into life in Luth. He claimed land in the King‘s name, haggled down prices like a Merett, and combed the streets of shady riff-raff. Luth began to change from a wild border town to a peaceful place. Who would want to mess with fifty men of the Guard anyway? Not to mention Sir Ravenor himself. Since the execution, he had gained a certain reputation.

In Luth, too, there were now shelters for the soldiers and an area had been fortified near the bridge. Those who wanted to cross the river were controlled and – thanks to Ravenor‘s idea – had to pay a fee into the King‘s cash box. In this case, this was the company‘s till, and then the money was immediately used again in the King‘s interest. In such a way, Ravenor saved himself long bureaucratic processes and so far nobody had criticised the procedure. So it was official. Unfortunately, the additional funds were just a drop in the ocean and Ravenor‘s plans were far more ambitious. He dreamed of building a much wider bridge across the river. The present one was too narrow for large wagons and not very stable either. If the river was flooding, the bridge had to be closed due to the possibility of the floods tearing it away. The first inquiries about a new bridge were answered by the otherwise very polite Orten with clear words:

...clear you head of such crazy ideas and avoid pointless waste...

Ravenor read the letter angrily and spent the next few days thinking about how he might still be able to build his bridge. Then a new dispatch fluttered onto his desk.

To Sir Ravenor, Commander of Brynn

His Highness, the Prince of Ardeen and Protector of the North, lets you - Sir Ravenor - know that your esteemed presence is expected in the Palace of Arvon on Goron‘s day.

In order to get a better picture of the overall situation, His Highness would like to be informed first-hand about the current situation in Two-river Country.

In the days following, some events and balls in the name of the King will take place, to which you are also invited. So plan a few more days for your visit in advance.

Regards, Werge

Thoughtfully, Ravenor held the paper in his hand. He has stayed out of everything for an astonishingly long time. I knew this would happen sooner or later. And I can still hear him saying, ‚Don‘t bother me with your problems‘. And now – oh wonder – he wants to know about everything again. As if he could ever leave matters completely in other hands. But he might even support my plans. Sir Askir can‘t and won‘t approve of anything, but Prince Daddy could. And there‘s the good King too, who has always been well disposed to poor Sir Ravenor...