Herald of Steel

When Anoon had at first proposed that they snitch on their commander or even defect to the other side, Ser Robert’s heart had skipped a beat with trepidation. But he did not shout to scold the man or even softly object.

Because he knew from their long correspondence together that saying such things for the man was par for the course.

The guy had a lot of ideas, some even very dangerous ones, which he liked to occasionally share with him.

Such as him arguing that commoners like them were the majority and so they should get a say in how they were governed, not by some illusive divine right to rule.

Which was the highest level of blasphemy as far as the Margraves or the Sybarsians or even the whole known world as a whole was concerned.

And hearing that for the first time, Ser Robert had sworn that he would hang the man himself if he ever said this out aloud again.

So when compared to that, plotting to just defect was very tame.

Ser Robert also soon came to reconcile his heart with the fact that meditation with Lord Bernard was very unlikely. Even if he could live, his close men would be severely punished. The commander would not live with that.

So after a quick few moments of thought, Ser Robert agreed to Anoon’s suggestion with a muted nod, and one of the ships was quickly ordered to go rescue General Achillas, along with a messenger to explain their difficulties to the man.

“General, our ships are full! So we can only take the more important people first. Please take the lead,” The man had courtesy informed the muscular gent of Ser Robert’s decision.

To this, however, instead of being grateful for the Margraves at least extending this lifeline, Achillas let off this snarl in absolute rage, “What! Are you telling me to leave my men up here to die while you Margraves wastes ran? Absolutely not! I am not leaving without my men. If there is not enough space, make it!”

You have to give it to the man, despite his many personal flaws, he was a good, loyal general who looked after his unit. Even though he was scared out of his mind above the ground beneath him giving itself away, he still refused to take the golden parachute and leave his men behind, unlike a certain someone.

Thus letting these words off with great strength, Achillas then went on to order the messenger with great officiousness,

“If you do not have enough space in the ships, then seize more from the enemy! Theirs are all half empty! It should be easy.”

“…..” Towards such a huge command, the low ranking harold found himself producing a blank, fearful look.

What was the point of wringing him out for all this? He was just a mouthpiece, with no authority whatsoever.

So he quickly the only thing he could, nodding and saluting as a show of acknowledgment as soon as Achillas finished, and then quickly ran back to Ser Robert to let him know of the general’s demands.

Demands that were initially outright rejected, as Ser Robert brushed his hands with almost equal fury,

“Bah! Who does he think he is, our master and we are his slaves? Where does he get off being so cocky? To the point that he dares call us waste! Waste! He is the waste!

His fourteen generations are wastes…. to think we are allies!”

It was clear from that last statement that Ser Robert was yet to wake up to the realization that Lord Bernard might have actually had a good reason for wanting Achillas dead, that things were not as peachy with the Heeat family as the simple general had assumed, and that letting the general die might not have been a terrible idea.

However, although Ser Robert was unable to realize his family’s position in the eyes of the Heeat family, his right hand man Anoon was definitely able to quickly grasp it.

But knowing Ser Robert’s simple nature, he did try to make him understand the various political intricacies.

Instead stepping up, he only advised Ser Robert in a cool tone,

“It would not be prudent for us to dismiss General Achillas with such lightness, He is the highest commanding military officer here. As well as our last potential savior. We need his favor.”

This reminder worked to somewhat cool the commander, but at the same, it made him produce a very reticent, sour face, as he grumbled in the tiniest mumble, “You would think he would be a little more grateful for us saving his ass! Fucker! How dare he curse my men! All these fucking nobles are the same!

The last statement was really out of character for the man, as this sort of ‘potentially head losing’ words were usually only reserved for Anoon.

Hence the fact that it was Ser Robert who said it really showed the disgust he had for the order as well as the way he and his men were being treated. And for a moment it even made the general wish for some of Anoon’s ideas to come true.

His adjutant for now though paid little heed to his commander’s ramblings, even though Ser Robert’s cursing the nobles did make the man quite pleased, but for now turned to the messenger to gently instruct him the following,

“Go tell the general to come down and meet us. Say that we are trying to attack the enemy but we do not have many weapons with us. Most of the men left their shields and spears on the bridge when they were trying to escape. So it will take a bit of time for us to get ready.”

That’s right.

In trying to escape as fast as they could, the Margraves had not only left their large shields behind on the bridge just like Alexander, but their long spears as well.

Thus the only armanent they currently had with them was a small curved sword that was closer to a dagger than an actual sword and was only really useful for the most desperate of self defense.

Trying to board the enemy’s fleet with that would be suicide.

But Anoon, being the diplomatic man, did not outright say it would be impossible but gave Achillas enough hope so that the man would get down and meet with them.

Whatever happened once he got his prize on the boat, could happen afterwards.

However this genteel message did not seem to please Achillas at all, who once again launched off into a blazing fury, ordering them the insane task of,

“If you cannot take the enemy ships, then jump into the water and die you! Why are you coming to begging? No matter what, go make space for us. My men are from the Heeat family… not something a mere earl like you can compare!”

The muscular general was very clear to make that discriminatory distinction, even when he was atop a 40 feet bridge that appeared to be wanting to give away any second.

And hearing this, Anoon really was of half the mind to leave the man behind just like his lord wanted.

But he still persevered and was able to at last get the man to agree to come and meet them.

While the Margraves and Heeat were bickering among themselves, Alexander soon began to prepare himself to set sail.

This intention was to move parallel to the bridge in a northeastern direction while hugging Phyrros Island’s shore.

This was intended as a precaution against any attack by the Margraves or any reinforcements sent by the Heeat family, as this way, even if they could not win, they could easily jump ship and swim to the safety of the island, where there still remained a garrison of two hundred men.

However, they had barely started to sail, being perhaps not even a hundred meters away from the Margraves’ ships, when tragedy struck.

One of the servants in one of the ships, suddenly noticed a man in a very flashy black armor descending the steps of a ladder onto an awaiting enemy ship.

And knowing such great armor could only be worn by a lord and high ranking commanders, he instinctively took aim with the crossbow he had on him, which was given due to him only because of the desperation of the times.

Normally this green, unskilled shot could not make a hit like this even if he tired a hundred times.

But perhaps this was his ‘hundred and one’-th try.

Because, *Thud!*

Wouldn’t you know it, by a small miracle, it hit the man on his right side, around his kidneys, piercing his armor and digging deep into him.

The shot was fortunately not fatal for Achillas, as it hit him in a relatively protected and nonvital part of the body.

Furthermore, the great distance the bolt had to travel meant that a lot of its speed and energy was eaten up mid flight, and so the penetration was relatively swallow, maybe a bit over an inch.

This was bad but not life threatening.

But what it certainly was, was very painful, so much so that Achillas yelped out in shock and suddenly lost his grip.

He plummeted, hitting the deck with a giant thud!

Let us say no to piracy! Don’t take part in a crime! Don’t patronize thieves!

Please come Here!

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