Strangers no More

I don't own anything to do with Lord of the Rings

Chapter Ten

New Objectives

'Good morning,' my uncle said to the rest of the Council sat around the table. It was the morning after the announcement of Markus's engagement. 'There are several matters to discuss today so let's not take too long.'

'Here, here,' Jason agreed.

'Firstly we've received a complaint from the Midwife Society of all things,' my uncle told them. 'Apparently while our men were training in the courtyard the noise we were making disrupted a meal they were having in their building next door.'

'Let me guess,' Jason started, 'they were distracted by watching our men training.'

'Jason,' my uncle warned him.

'Sorry,' he said with a chuckle.

'I've asked them in future to let us know when they have an event on and we'll ask our men to keep the noise down. Next on the agenda is the Church of Saint Mary. Father Harold has completed the design for the main stained glass window. Can you show us?'

'With pleasure,' he responded as he pushed a large sheet onto the table.

The picture was of Saint Mary with her arms outstretched. Around her head was a halo and on the ground in front of her was the manger holding the Lord as a child. Although there was no colour the drawing did say that she'd be wearing blue and white.

'Very good,' Markus said as he examined it.

'Agreed,' said Robert.

The old priest then moved two more sheets onto the table, one on each side of Saint Mary.

'Around the main window there will be two next to it. These are the designs for them and how they will be arranged.'

The one on Saint Mary's right depicted a group of Shepherds kneeling on the ground and praying to the small form of Jesus while the one on her left stood the three Kings, each one holding their gift and were respectfully bowing their heads.

'I look forward to seeing the church when it's finished,' my uncle said and nodded his head. 'I feel that we all approve of this design?'

The Council agreed and Father Harold took the pictures off the table.

'The next and final item on today's agenda is in regards to the attacks occurring throughout the region of Lossarnarch.'

'Go on,' Robert instructed.

'The numerous Orc attacks there have been traced to a single source, a small forest in the region. However, scouts have reported that the Orc numbers are larger than any of us thought.'

'How many?' Markus asked him nervously.

'Some three thousand strong.'

'Could be worse,' Jason commented.

'His Majesty is assembling as many soldiers as he can as quickly as he can. He has also asked us for support if we are willing to provide it.'

'So there's going to be a fight?' Jason asked him.

'Yes.'

'Then let's get ready!'

'Thirty will go,' my uncle told them. 'No more than that.'

'I'll ask for volunteers,' said Robert. 'I assume that a member of the Council should go to take command of our contingent.'

'Yes. I myself am in no condition to fight in a battle so I can't go,' my uncle said with a little sadness. 'Robert, I would like you to lead our men.'

'It will be my honour.'

'I'll go as well,' Jason volunteered.

'Excellent. Find the volunteers by tomorrow. Is there anything else to bring up?' when no one commented my uncle adjourned the meeting.

...

'Of course I'm volunteering,' I told Rickard as I polished my sword.

My cousin was sitting on his bed putting something in his pipe.

'Me too,' he said. 'We've been sitting around on our arses too long.'

'It's not a massive Orc army like we faced during the war,' I went on as I turned Alaric over in my hand. 'With the forces the king has ready it won't be a hard battle.'

'Since when have you been so cocky?' Rickard asked me.

'I'm not cocky,' I told him.

'If you say so. Are you going to let Sunniva know you're joining up for this?'

'Of course. Did Markus say if he was coming?'

'No, your father decided that it was best for him to stay here. He doesn't want more than two members of the Council away in a battle at one time.'

'That and he wouldn't want his future daughter in law worried,' Rickard reminded me. 'Or his future niece in law.'

'Shut up,' I told him.

'If you insist. So when are we going?'

'In a week.'

'Mathew said he's coming as well,' Rickard told me.

'Good. He's a great fighter. We'll need him.'

'And Edmund's buying him a suit of armour,' Rickard continued.

'Really?' I asked him, surprised.

'Yes. I think he's sort of taken Mathew under his wing a little.'

'Well he lost his brothers in the war. The more friends he has the better.'

'We always go to The Long Sword together. That's a start.'

After that I started writing a letter to Sunniva. It felt so strange to be writing to her as something more than a friend. Actually, strange would be the wrong word. I had never felt so happy to write to someone and I knew that she felt the same. In a way it was liberating but I didn't enjoy telling her I was going off to another battle.

My dearest Sunniva

I know that you will not like what I am about to tell you but I must write it here. There have been Orc attacks in Gondor and I have volunteered to join the force which will fight them. I don't think it will be a hard battle so I will write again as soon as I can.

I do have some happy news though. Markus is getting married to a young woman named Hethnina, it was announced last night at my uncle's birthday. As far as I can tell she is a good person and I think that Markus is happy to be marrying her.

...

For posterity I shall write the names of the thirty volunteers here. Robert of Essex, Jason Bridge, Anthony Barley, Rickard Harris, myself, Mark Arms, Hugh Graham, Arnold Ward, Adam Wilson, Steven Mathewson, Arthur Waters, Simon Wayne, Martin Peters, Calum Thornton, James Thornton, Carl Frankton, Watt Cobbler, Harrison Yarrik, Daniel of Newcastle, Philippe Newman, Felix Clark, Adam Brightman, Gerard Crawford, Raymond Kin, Luke of Northumbria, Benjamin Blunt, Arthur Mason, Normal Hasselrig, Erik Wordsmith and Isaac Turner.

...

The Royal Black Powder Force had its base in the Fourth Level of Minas Tirith. It was a large walled compound which contained a store house for the weapons as well as a larger store room for the large amount of powder that had been made. There were also workshops for the making of the weapons and ammunition. In the centre however was a training yard where the latest batch of Hand Cannons and the soldiers who would use them were being put to the test. My uncle stood there with Hannastog and a few officers as a Captain shouted orders. Fifty new Fire Hands stood in front of my uncle and the others aiming their weapons at the targets set up for them. They stood in two ranks, in a zigzag fashion, nervously gripping their weapons.

'Front rank level,' the Captain ordered and the front rank pointed their weapons at the targets, resting their weapons on their Y shaped poles. 'FIRE!'

They touched their weapons with the matches and the normal crack and cloud of smoke appeared. When they had fired the Captain gave new orders.

'Front rank, reload! Rear rank level. FIRE!'

They followed his orders and let loose a new wave of bolts at the targets. While the rear rank was firing the front rank was reloading. It wasn't a fast process as they had to pour in new powder, place in the bolt and then make sure it was tightly in by pushing it in with a ram rod. It took about thirty seconds altogether but sometimes a little longer. When they were all reloaded they fired their weapons again and so did the second rank. They repeated this cycle until they had each fired five times and then those in attendance clapped their hands, apart from my uncle.

'Well done,' Hannastog congratulated them as he walked through the wall of smoke created by the weapons to inspect the damage done to the targets with my uncle.

What they saw was what they expected. The bolts had hit the targets but they were scattered wildly about the targets, this time they were shields. A few had missed and hit the wall behind it.

'Increasing the numbers of Fire Hands has improved it very much,' Hannastog commented. 'They're still very inaccurate though.'

'That and the smoke,' my uncle said to his friend. 'It's like shooting through fog.'

'Can we do anything to stop it?'

'Stand up wind of the enemy. That should disperse the smoke and drive it onto them. I also heard rumours from merchants far away that there was a type of powder that produced much less smoke. Then again they also spoke of cavalry who used silk as armour so I wouldn't trust them.'

'We just need to remind the men that they have to keep their weapons steady.'

'I know. It's a problem these weapons have always had. We'll just have to deal with it.'

'I'll order the men to keep practising.'

'I do have one other concern though.'

'And that is?'

'All of the Fire Hands have never practiced together so they may reload at their own pace. These weapons can only be used effectively in mass volleys.'

'And we don't have enough space in this courtyard for all of them to practice together,' said Hannastog. 'I'll ask the king for permission to practice in Pelannor again.'

'Good idea.'

'Captain Borson,' Hannastog shouted.

'Sir,' Borson said as he hurried towards them.

'Instruct the men to fire another five volleys and then dismiss them. Sir James and I have matters to discuss.'

'Yes sir,' he responded with a salute and walked back to the men.

My uncle and Hannastog walked to the study, a small building next to the courtyard. The walls were covered with shelves filled with papers, mostly designs for weapons that were yet to be built. There were also orders for the materials needed to make the black powder, some of which were hard to come by; sulphur in particular had to be brought into Gondor from Mordor. There were two desks as well, one for my uncle and the larger one for Hannastog. When they had both sat in their chairs they looked at a few papers for a moment before they started talking.

'I'm glad Hethnina is happy with marrying your son,' Hannastog said to my uncle.

'As am I. She is to talk with Father Harold today about Christianity.'

'Excellent. However, we have important business to deal with.'

'I know. What did the king think when you showed him the Ribault design.'

'He is interested but he won't give permission to build it until the weapons we have already prove effective in a pitched battle.'

'Understandable.'

'And many in the Royal Council are against spending much more money on our weapons. They don't think it's wise to waste money on more weapons just after a war, especially with the kings plans for rebuilding the city.'

'Who led this group?'

'Take a guess.'

'Cyllcoth?'

'How did you guess?

'It wasn't hard. Has the king approved the use of these weapons in the upcoming campaign?'

'He told me that he wants them used just this morning.'

'Perfect. If this won't convince the Royal Council of the worth of these weapons nothing will,' the crack of guns firing outside filled the air. Nostalgically my uncle smiled. 'I remember when my main concern was dealing with the serfs on my land in England. It was easier than leading an order of knights and advising on the use of guns.'

'It must be. Have you been to the lands you were given as a reward yet?'

'I've not had the time. Just too much to do.'

'You're a decade older than I. With your duties as my advisor and as Grand Master of the English Knights I can see why you may be feeling tired about everything.'

'I'm not that old,' my uncle told him. 'I think I have at least a decade left in me.'

'I'd hope so indeed.'

...

'A very interesting tale,' Hethnina said to Father Harold.

They were walking past the construction yard for the church of Saint Mary. He'd been explaining to her the history of Christianity and he felt that it would be best to walk around the busy yard where the wedding would take place later that year.

'After hearing all of that do you agree to become a Christian?'

'I think so,' she agreed. 'As far as I can tell there's nothing wrong with it. After my christening I would be interested to learn more.'

Father Harold chuckled for a moment.

'I think that you and Markus will get on very well.'

'Yes. He did say that he is interested in learning the history of this world. It feels so strange saying that.'

'To be honest I am still not used to saying it.'

'Well I am personally interested in learning about your world, or at least your country which many of you speak so fondly of.'

After thinking for a moment Father Harold responded.

'I may be able to help you there. There was once a learned man named Bede who wrote a history of England. I own a copy of his writings which I could lend you.'

At that a smile spread across Hethnina's face.

'Thank you very much Harol-, I mean Father Harold.'

'I'll let you borrow it the next time I see you.'

AN: Hello. This was a little late but this one is out now. I hope you enjoyed this little chapter. I've set up the next big part of the story which I hope you will all enjoy. What do you think of Hethnina here?

Review Responses:

KiyaNamiel: I take it you found the last chapter funny. As to John and Sunniva, no comment.

ATP: I assume you were referring to the Battle of Castillon. Essentially the French just released volley after volley at the English. However, the English only broke after a French cavalry charge broke the English. This is because at the time guns were only useful when used in combined arms warfare.

I hope that this doesn't count as hidden enemy ex machina.