Disclaimer: I do not own Bladestorm THYW, but I still hope you enjoy my little spin on this classic tale.
A cold winter wind whistled in the air as the light began to fade from the skies over the French province of Champagne. Early evening was setting in and a thin layer of snow blanketed the ground as three young horsemen made their way up the main road into the small town of Vaucouleurs. Leading the way, Henri Sorel pulled his dark blue cloak a little closer to ward off the chill while shifting uncomfortably in his saddle. Despite the warm clothes that he and his two companions wore underneath, their suits of old battered half-plate armor still absorbed quite a bit of the early January frost and chilled them to the bone. He glanced over and saw that his friend and fellow mercenary soldier Roger Benoit seemed to be thinking the same thing.
"God... I can't wait to reach the tavern," Roger muttered while dusting some snow off his shoulder, "I just want to sit near the fire, have a hot meal, and drink a tall flagon of ale."
To Henri's other side rode Roger's sister Angelique. She took a moment to rub her gloved hands and pat the large coin purse she was carrying at her horse's flank, "Cheer up Roger. Slogging though the woods for two weeks and raiding those supply trains was a good tradeoff. We got paid well for our trouble and hopefully slowed the English down too."
Roger gave a mildly amused snort and turned his green eyes toward his sister, "It's funny Angie. You're always so quick to think about money and even quicker to spend it."
Angie adjusted her winter cap and brushed aside some of her dark hair that fell loose, "We might was well. With the way that the royal armies are retreating, there may not be a France left in a year or two."
Henri listened to his two companions banter and couldn't help but think about the bleak prediction of Angie just now. The kingdoms of France and England had been engaged in bitter warfare for decades now but it had taken its toll on their native country. There were constant threats from the Holy Roman Empire and from the independent duchies surrounding France who aligned themselves with the English. With the help of Flanders and Burgundy, England had continued its push southward driving back the desperate and demoralized forces of King Charles VII ever further.
With the constant fighting and killing, this had been a profitable time to be a mercenary soldier. It was often a dangerous and harsh existence but it offered the greatest opportunity for quick wealth and prestige. By now, hundreds of aspiring knights and nobles had been elevated by both France and England from the survivors of those blood soaked battlefields. Henri's idle thoughts were interrupted as Angie spoke up, "Well? What do you think Henri? If we all don't get killed first, do you think we'll have any place left to call home?"
Henri turned to her and decided to deflect the question by gesturing toward the nearby gate of the French garrison town. "Come on. Let's worry about getting warm and calling this place home for tonight."
As the three friends continued to ride their horses inside and head toward the stables of a familiar tavern, Henri took a moment to savor the warm inviting smells of food and the sounds of music coming from inside. He had been hesitant to answer Angie's question because he was unsure if he shared his companions' pessimism about the future. Of course things looked bleak right now and there had been a time that he had shared the same hopeless attitude. Even to this day, he wasn't quite sure he could explain his own feelings, but it seemed that everything had begun to change several months ago when he had taken a contract to protect the town of Donremy. It was the place where he had seen something miraculous take shape on the battlefield. That was the place where he had met her.
The shrill sounds of horns filled the autumn air along with the ringing sounds of swords and armor clashing against each other. The golden hue of the afternoon sun hung over the woodlands as a band of English raiders engaged in a furious melee against some elements of the French royal army and their hired mercenary allies. Several combatants on both sides lay either dead or wounded and some of the fallen red leaves of the meadow made it hard to tell if patches of the ground were colored by the leaves or by blood.
Amid the thick of the fighting, Henri wheeled his mount around and slashed an enemy spearman across the shoulder with a swing of his sword. Henri kicked his chainmail clad foe aside and spurred his horse forward to aid his other two comrades who were busy fighting nearby. Angie had already pulled her crossbow and fired a bolt taking down an archer who was hiding in the brush while Roger had already dismounted to fight a trio of raiders on foot with his halberd.
"Three on one, eh? Those odds are almost fair for you," Roger quipped as he used his polearm and waded into battle with the three combatants. The brash mercenary deflected the first attacks and hacked his way through using his aggressive fighting style to try and control the fight. As he struggled to force one of them back, he left himself open for a flank attack by the other two. Fortunately another crossbow bolt came whistling by and struck one of the raiders in the throat while Henri thundered by on horseback and cut down the other enemy from behind with his sword.
The sudden shift in momentum startled the last raider causing him to freeze up in shock and drop his guard. That moment of hesitation was all Roger needed to disarm his foe and scythe the raider down with a brutal swing of his poleaxe. Angie shook her head to her brother as she reloaded her crossbow, "Are you insane? Three against one... on foot?"
"Oh, I had them right where I wanted them," he winked as he hefted his weapon.
"You're welcome," Henri joked sardonically before he turned to see the English raiders break ranks and flee. Two of the other mercenary captains named Magnus and Karen waved their swords nearby and wheeled their mounts to give chase.
"You three carry on with the royal forces. We'll take a squad and chase off these raiders," Magnus called in his lilting Irish accent as he and red headed female comrade took off into the woods after the retreating enemy soldiers.
"Looks like we're earning our pay early," Henri mused to himself as he sheathed his sword and removed his open faced sallet helmet. He took a moment to enjoy the cool refreshing autumn air as it touched his short brown hair.
Nearby, Angie had removed her own helmet and did the same thing before dismounting her horse to join her brother. The two had begun picking over the bodies of their dead enemies looking for valuables and loot. By now, the rest of the regulars of the royal army were busy catching their breaths and sorting out their own dead and wounded.
Roger cut a coin purse off a fallen enemy and pocketed it along with a crafted dagger, "For a little skirmish, this was not a bad score at all. I wager when all is said and done, we might end up earning more from our loot than for protecting that little town."
"We'll take what we can here, but we gave our word to help stand guard over Donremy," Henri said as he came over to help gather up some of their loot.
"I guess those poor farmers must be desperate if they were willing to hire people like us for the job," Angie joked as they stowed the rest of their treasures away and got back on their horses. "We could make more if we joined the front lines near Vaucouleurs to the north."
"We also have a much greater chance of getting butchered in that fight," Henri reminded her, "The royal army is desperate for troops and hasn't been shy about using hired swords like us as cannon fodder. With any luck, the English will get turned back at Vaucouleurs and we'll live to fight another day."
"Well when you put it like that..." Roger snorted in amusement as they rejoined a contingent of royal soldiers down the road leading to their destination, "You make it sound like we have nothing else to live for."
"Oh? And here I thought you also live for getting drunk and whoring around," his sister teased him gently. As the convoy rode on, Henri sat in quiet thought while the siblings Roger and Angie began another one of their petty squabbles. Ever since he and his two friends had struck out from their home in Troyes to find their fortunes as mercenaries, Henri had always believed that staying alive and keeping his friends safe was always the number one priority. It hadn't been easy, but over the past couple years they had eked out a modest sum of saved money... armor, equipment, and supplies notwithstanding.
Still, Roger's comment had made him think again because it was a good question. Sure, there was profit to be made in this war but what were they ultimately fighting for? Outside of the thrill of a battle and the promise of payment at the end of the day, did they just live for the ironic chance of losing their lives in war now? What good would their fortunes be if they all got killed in battle anyway? The three of them were no more than twenty years of age and likely had quite a bit of life left to live but what would that even look like with the kingdom of France falling apart around them?
The royal army was barely competent. The King of France was essentially hiding and his enemies were closing in from all sides eating away more and more land by the day. Even though Henri's home province of Champagne had been all but occupied by the English now, the royal forces here were still willing to make a bit of a stand and they were willing to pay anyone desperate enough to join them. A small shadow of a frown crossed the mercenary's features before he quietly reached for the silver ring he kept hanging from a chain around his neck. Perhaps there was another reason to stay alive, but at this point it all felt so long ago and Henri wondered if she even remembered him... much less paid him a passing thought or prayer. For now, it was best to stay focused on the job and worry about those things at another time. There were still bandits and English raiders to worry about and he wasn't about to let some lowly brigands undo everything he and his friends had worked for to this point.
A few hours later, the glare from the late afternoon sun hung over the skies as the small detachment made its way from the rolling wheat fields into the quaint farm village of Domremy. Here and there were villagers and farmers who regarded the arriving soldiers with a mixture of fear, contempt, and awe. These people had been raided by the English before and they knew the fear and hardships that came with it. As glad as they were to see this small troop of royal soldiers, the commoners couldn't help but feel a little a little resentment that the royal army hadn't been there to help before until the village hired some soldiers to stand guard during the clashes further north. As much as the people of Donremy feared the encroaching English army, they also felt a little apprehension, worrying that this small contingent of French soldiers would cause similar troubles while doing their jobs here.
As Henri and his companions arrived in the center of the wide town square lined with modest houses and shops, the sounds of chirping birds filled the air while children came up to gawk at their assembled formation of men-at-arms who were clad in their blue tunics and silver steel armor.
"Hmm... it's a nice little hamlet," Angie remarked as the three friends dismounted and secured their gear, "But it doesn't seem particularly important either. If the English were smart, they'd just avoid this place altogether."
She slung her light crossbow over her shoulder while Roger secured his own halberd weapon. He patted his horse's flank, "It would make this a really easy job. How much do you want to bet the English do exactly that?"
"Better not to bet the money that we don't have yet," Henri reminded him with a smile as he secured his arming sword and turned to greet a middle aged man who was approaching the mercenary contingent of soldiers.
Some ways away, it looked like the captain of the royal army's soldiers was being greeted by the village mayor while a lesser official came to speak with the hired swords. The man in question looked to be a simple plain clothed farmer with a tall strong build and short blonde hair. He had a short well trimmed beard and carried himself with unusual confidence. He extended a friendly hand and nodded, "Welcome to Donremy friends."
"Thank you sir," Henri said politely while shaking the farmer's hand.
"No, thank you for coming. I am Jacques d'Arc, the local doyen. Part of my job is helping to organize the local defenses. I'm guessing you're captain of these mercenaries?"
Henri gave a little shrug, "At the moment, it seems that way. I'm Henri Sorel. These are my two companions Roger and Angie Benoit."
The two mercenaries gave a polite greeting before Jacques nodded, "Good... well, come along. We'll find a place to put you up for the time being. Once you get settled, we can share news over dinner and then start planning for any English raids that might be coming in the next few days."
Before they could adjourn, there was a slight commotion as they heard the distressed sounds of a horse whinnying while pawing the ground. They turned to see Henri's horse Tempeste in a mild state of agitation while a young boy of about thirteen shied away from the beast.
Jacques frowned as he hurried over and pulled the boy clear, "Pierre! What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm sorry father! I just wanted to look at the war horse," the startled boy pleaded in dismay. While Jacques kept hold of his son, everyone continued to watch as a peasant girl who had been with Pierre slowly approached the agitated horse. She was a beautiful young woman in a yellow dress who looked to be about seventeen, with long blonde hair, fair features, and a white lily flower worn over her right ear.
She walked over slowly and began to speak in a gentle soothing manner causing the horse to settle down. She smiled and reached out to gently touch the horse's face and give it a soothing pat, "There now... there's a good boy. Thank you. I'm not going to hurt you."
Angie gave a low whistle while Henri stepped forward and took the reins back with a smile, "Wow... I'm impressed. Tempeste is usually very skittish around new people but you handle him so well."
"I've always been good with my father's horses," the young woman smiled back giving the horse one more little rub, "And I'm sorry if my younger brother caused any trouble just now. He didn't mean any harm."
"No... I'm sure he didn't," Henri agreed giving the boy a reassuring nod before turning back to the girl, "Thank you..."
"Joan," she answered while shaking his hand with a kind smile, "Joan d'Arc. Nice to meet you... Henri, was it?"
"Yes," Henri remarked warmly, "Nice to meet you too."
As he let go of her hand, he turned to Jacques, "This is your daughter and son?"
The farmer and minor town official nodded as he gathered his children, "I'm afraid so. With all this talk about royal soldiers coming into town I guess they wanted to come and see what was going on like everyone else. Joan? Please take your brother back home and make sure you two finish your chores. I'll be along later."
Pierre gave a disappointed huff before his sister took him by the shoulders and began marching him away. Before she did, she gave one last smile and nod of the head toward the mercenaries before she headed home.
"All right, you all can follow me and I'll show you the way to some lodging," Jacques said directing the others off in the other direction to start setting up camp. Henri continued looking off in the direction Joan and Pierre departed before he felt a light clap on his armored shoulder guard.
He turned to see Roger wearing a slightly amused grin before his friend cleared his throat, "Are you coming, Captain? I know I'm not half as good looking, but you might want to follow us instead."
Henri gave him a little shove and rolled his eyes before joining Jacques and the others. Roger was right. It was time to focus. There was still a war to be fought and a contractual job left to be done here.