Soreil, Bretonia
Andy Thrope had added a couple of lines in a face that had held its share of them before. He had done a great lot of travelling through the last weeks, usually on horseback, through a country that was at war and where heat and food were scare. The last couple of days had been better, he had been picked up by a ship, had eaten decently and the joy of his first bath in more than a month had been hard to describe. Now that he was mostly feeling human again he could look what his ex-Underground Railroaders were up to.
He found Jean inside a former barn that had been converted into a makeshift workshop and warehouse. He found the former serf checking on a rifle he did not remember seeing before.
To his credit Jean did place the weapon on the worktop carefully before doing his best imitation of a bearhug on the bigger Englishman. He avoided the kisses he knew Andy hated and instead patted the shoulders.
"Andy, mon ami, it is good to see you again for sure. I heard you made it a week ago but till then you had me worried."
"Me too for a while but I think we sent the assholes back into camp for winter. They`ll be back though but I think we`ll have better toys then, right?"
"Right."
"So what is this thing here, looks a bit strange to me."
"We managed to pick up some Mk1b rifles from a group of Druchii mercenaries who do not need them any more. Single shot but at least modern ammo and good for 500 meters at least. Very basic, easy to learn and maintain. At 500 meters it will put a round through plate at that distance. Problem is that we cannot reload the ammo and so we are limited to what we can buy."
"Well, not bad at all I`d say. Didn`t these mercs tear the Dragon Princes a new one?"
"Oui, so their sales rep said. But they had a lot more of them, they had machine guns and mortars. But they are much better than nothing. And then we Pierre`s pet project, let me show you."
Jean went to another workbench and held up a somewhat crude-looking crossbow. The wooden parts were rather rough and the metal ones looked mismatched.
"What is so special about that for christsake?"
"The bow is made from flat springs for small trucks we got from German junk yards. Compared to what we could make here they are very strong and reliable. The steel cable we can buy in bulk and the windlass is actually sold in many German DIY stores. You can load it three times a minute at least, the bolt will go through plate at 150 meters and we can make all the ammo we want."
"Uh, not bad. Actually sounds better than the old Imperial harquebuses."
"They are actually, the Empire went for firearms because they were mechanically simpler and had greater shock value. These will do till we have better and we can make the ammo ourselves and can drill much more.
"Sounds great for whatever value of great there is. In a few months the biggest army of knights you can imagine is going to come up here and it is supported by a goddess. Peasant revolts rarely succeed and we should really make sure this one does."
"Speaking of goddess, that healer Johanna told me you should go to the groove and bring lots of ammo with you."
"What."
Andy Thorpe did not understand but what Englishman can refuse when asked by a Lady? So he made his way along a snowed-in path, heard nothing but the crunch of snow under his boots and his own breath. He found himself in front of the lake that had been the backdrop to his first and so far only meeting with a being that was the Lady of the Lake, maybe…
Any doubts he might have about the Lady vanished when he reached the Lake`s shore and she stood before him on the waters.
"Welcome Andy Thrope. How did my favourite Englishman fare in my service."
"Was cold a lot, scared some of the time, killed some assholes and got the job done. Was more difficult than it should have been."
"Yes the winds told me as much. You are a rare specimen indeed."
"Why?"
"Because you do not kneel before me. I never ask of it but all of you do it but Andy Thorpe, why?"
"If you were the kind who demands kneeling I would not be here. Isn`t the other Lady that kind?"
"Oh she is very much like me and so very different at the same time. Let`s say she would not stand for a round table, she does not believe in equals."
"Am I allowed a question?"
"You certainly earned that right when you all bought us a winter to prepare Andy Thrope."
"Why are there two of you all of a sudden. Is one of you...real?"
"Oh, we are very much real Andy Thrope, that we are and we are both the Lady in our ways."
"What-err how is that possible."
"Andy Thrope, do you know that these lands were settled long before the Bretoni came into these lands?"
"Yes, the Asur were here before they left for Ulthuan."
"Very good. A very very long time ago Kurnous and Isha had children, twins indeed. Back then we were called Lileath and Leah. We were the ones to look for our people in these lands, we watched that the Chaos from the Gates did not overwhelm them, we guided and protected them."
"Mylady, are we talking about Kurnous and Isha, the Asurian Gods?"
"Yes, we do."
"Maybe I should start practising this kneeling business after all."
"Don`t, it would nit do. Well, when our children had burned themselves up in the war against the Dawi and decided that they had to retreat to Ulthuan I found that I could not. I had been in these lands too long, I could not neglect them whether our people were here or not. Lileath found a way, she looked after those who chose to remain. They became too feral for my tastes and so I remained here. I was amazed when the Bretoni arrived in these lands, they were so much like the Asur and they were not. They were children in a dangerous world, they needed guidance and protection, I needed company. I took one of them under my wing to unite them, the one you know as the Green Knight, Giles de Breton.
We did great things, we united the tribes, we started to give them knowledge, we gave their warriors the chivalric code, we made something worthwhile, something to remember. Lileath was so happy at first and thought about bringing the Asrai up our former glory.
I do not know when she found that the forest around her was not the great power without sentience but a force of his own, one that was not to be denied. She found that the Asrai were not to be the foundation for a new Elven Empire in the Old World but meant to live in symbiosis with Athel Loren and her dreams turned into a nightmare.
She came to me for help and I..I refused. I did not want to give up what I had wrought together with these humans, strange and weak as they might be then. She asked for my help, she appealed to our common ancestry, she begged and then she poisoned me when she saw no other way. She gave me something from the deepest parts of Athel Loren, from the place where even the Asrai do not dare to tread. She took a part of my powers and left me to die.
She returned to Athel Loren and there are stories of a duel, legends of a war in heaven, a fight between her and the forest. She lost and so she might keep her life she had to give her daughter, Ariel, to Athel Loren. She returned here and took my mantle. I had fled by that time, I could not confront her in that state than you could best a storm Andy Thorpe. She had taken so much from me that she was able to take my place with the Bretons, rule them, guide them and profit from them.
I wandered the world and healed, learned and grew. I always thought about returning when I was myself again but such a war would have destroyed so much. I was not going to destroy the lands I love so that she would not have them."
"So what changed your mind."
"She did and these strange humans, the Germans did"
"How so?"
"Oh I wandered through this country of miracles and I learned more in a few years than in centuries before. Not only that the mundane world holds such miracles when you study it, but ideas. When you are as old as me new ideas are hard to come by Andy Thrope and they brought them when they arrived. It was wonderful, it opened my mind in directions I had never imagined.
And Lileath, she went down a different path. 200 years ago, even a mere hundred the Breton nobles would never have treated their serfs like they do now. Some of them even have delved into even deeper darkness than simple oppression, half-heartednesses and greed. But most of all Lileath has plans, plans I do not understand fully but plans that will lead only to madness. When I learned even the smallest part of them I knew I had to do something about them. I contacted Giles and unveiled the truth to him. Ever since then we have built up this rebellion."
"Wow, just wow."
"Thought you`d say that. Presently I`ll ask you for your discretion. I promise you it won`t be for long but now it would not do if my dear sister learns all of this. She suspects, she conjures but she cannot be sure. I like that state of affairs."
"I will keep this secret then till you release me then."
"Very good Andy Thrope. And now place that ammunition before me so I can bless it properly. I would be a shame it you would waste so much of it against the protection that my sister grants her thugs, wouldn`t it."
Bretonia, 40 kilometres from Niederkrüchten,
Yanis, formerly of Grandlup-et-Fey, now just Yanis was tired and exhausted as he had rarely been in life. He was a farmer and a serf farmer at that, he was just too well used to hardship. Still what he and the Grandlup villagers went through in the last weeks had been beyond anything he had experienced before. The wet cold of the winter went through the threadbare clothes owned by the former slaves, sapped their energy and prepared them for infections. Two of the village elders had caught a cold soon after leaving. They had done their best not to slow them down and fought as bravely as any Bretonian knight. It had not been enough and soon they were pulled behind the stronger men on makeshift sledges.
Yvette had just given up during the third night. She had been packed between her family for warmth and when they awoke in the next morning she was as stiff as the trees around them. They had cried, they had heaped stones upon her so she would not feed the animals and they had cried more then they realized that they could not give her soul to the Lady`s care.
They trekked on through a landscape that was covered with the white cloth of snow and death. Francois had been getting quieter and quieter during the day. He tried to march instead of being pulled and failed harder each time he did so. He barely got up when they made their camp, told all that he would take a dump in private, would take his time and never came back. They searched for him but the snow covered all tracks and the few they had found showed he had headed into the forest at his best speed.
The mood was bleak to say the least for the next days and with each passing day the few provisions on the villagers` backs became less and less. The first children began to cough and one of them was running a fever already. They had gone up the road with no real idea where they were, no plan for the future and in so much pain and exhaustion they hardly cared if they had any.
They found that they still cared when the knight and his men-at-arms parted the snow`s veil when they froze in fear for their lives. The men tried to build a ring about their children and to stand up straight when the knight sheathed his sword.
"Hello mes amis, I am Jean-Luc formerly of Saint-Lac. I do not believe that you want to use this nice weather for a stroll so I do believe you are fleeing your former master, am I right? Oh please don`t answer me all at once and please do not worry, I am part of the resistance and the last thing we do is harm former serfs. Can I invite you to some warmth and food perhaps?"
If nothing else convinced Yanis that this strange knight was not lying it was that he lifted Anis on his horse and some of the villagers who were badly off found themselves behind the mounted men-at-arms. What knight would care enough about a common child to hoist her on his charger? They made the last kilometres at a better pace and nearly collapsed when they reached the resistance`s camp. They had been given food, they had been given shelter and medicine and they had been given a choice.
Join the resistance and stay. Accept training, take the oath and fight for their own rights. Or go on as the rebels did not have the means to support them. If Yvette and Francois had still been with them, maybe. They were disheartened, they were not willing to fight for people they did not know, fight for goals they hardly understood and against a Lady they believed in.
When they continued the flight they had been given a sled, provisions and instructions. It still had been hard going and they hardly believed the Germans were willing to take in strangers from a country that hated their guts. They walked through a landscape that was party hidden by snow and seemed totally deserted by man. They walked a road that had obviously bee n travelled by others, they saw enough tracks and hints of that. Sometimes they caught glimpses of others who might march in the same direction but could not be bothered to close with them.
And then there was the river, the Reik they had heard of. It was vast and fast enough so that no ice formed on it but for some floes. They found a magical ship that ran without sails or rudder and on it they found people who offered hot drinks and food the likes they had never tasted before. Their first look at these Germans was tinted by their fears, their exhaustion and all the rumours they had heard about them. They were like what they had heard and they were not. Their clothes were outlandish, colourful and of a cut and fabrics never seen before. The women that helped with dispensing food and hot drinks were certainly not clad like harlots as their lord had insisted they would, but used trousers and certainly not deferred to men at all. That said they were often beautiful to look at, had unearthly healthy teeth and a ready smile to go along with the hot drinks. Practically all of them were a lot taller than the former serfs, often by a full head.
They were brought to the other side of the river where things changed to the point where everybody was confused to the point of paralysis. The roads were seamless, black and without blemishes. The houses were of a totally outlandish design, had windows of a clarity and size that had to be seen to be believed, magically heated and lit. The man and woman in the buildings they were brought to were not unfriendly, spoke heavily accented Breton and were obviously under a lot of stress to get the situation under control. The serfs reacted as always when confronted with so much authority, looking down, trying not to get noticed and talked only when spoken to. Somebody placed them in front of a box, asked some questions and performed a strange ritual with required them to place a blacked finger on parchment. The warmth of the building made them so drowsy that most of them slept through the trip in the magic cart called bus.
Castle Artois, Bretonia
The Castle was an elaborate affair that had been added to through the many centuries of its existence. Tall towers watched over the land, huge walls provided protection in several rings around the keep. There were halls for the craftsmen, barracks, salles, halls, kitchens and a most beautiful chapel to the Lady. A few hundred meters from it was the small town whose only raison de etre was to supply the castle with the many things it needed. The flags of the Artois, of L`Ànguile and of Bretonia hung listlessly in the still winter air. The sky and the walls blended into each other in their greyness, the few people to be seen outside had wrapped shawls around their faces to protect themselves from the cold and hurried wherever they had to go as long as they were outside.
The man who rode into the castle was as unperturbed by the weather as by anything else. His tabard did not display his heraldry but simply a depiction of the grail He brought only two companions with him, both silent and as intimidating in their own way as he was. A crone managed to stay a step behind him when many a young man would have to run and the crooked man at her side swayed a bit but did the same. The Castle`s majordomo tried to greet the trio at the same time as he tried to get their measure and was brushed aside without many words. They made their way through the many gates and several halls without stopping to greet, to change their clothing or engage in anything resembling polite interaction. The doors that barred the great hall were flung open before them as those who guarded them had the distinct feeling that they would be torn apart otherwise.
Only inside the hall did the trio stop and the knight removed his helmet to reveal a scarred face from which eyes seemed to have a light from within. He went on one knee for the briefest of moments but to any observer it was more than clear he did this on his terms and not on those of his host. The voice was deep, reached anybody inside the hall equally and seemed to have an echo as if two people were speaking at the same time.
"Gerald of Artois, thank you for welcoming us into your halls. I am Robert de Grail, let me introduce the Dame Poignard and my aide Gourdin to you. I bring the greetings of King Leoncour and those of the Lady."
"Robert de Grail, this is an unforeseen and unprecedented honour to have somebody of your..station in these halls. May I inquire of your purpose here?"
"You have asked our King for reinforcements Gerald."
"Yes, so I did as our trial is a difficult one."
"And so I heard. We are your reinforcement."
"I do not want to be seen as ungrateful Sir Robert, but I had expected…more."
"Your plight is not one that can be fought with more knights Sir Gerald, we are here to do what is necessary."
"What can you do what we have not tried yet."
"Many things Sir Gerald. As you said yourself your trial is a difficult one as this is a new kind of war. We will play by the new rules. Please grant us the honour of a private audience so we might speak of this in more detail."
"That seems wise."
The study was Gerald of Artois room, full of his honourable ancestor`s portraits, of mementos, trophies and furniture more comfortable than impressive. A fire burned in the chimney, roasting the Baron from the front while his backside was still cold. His visitor did not show any discomfort at all and Gerald found himself waiting for Robert to be seated. He poured two glass of wine and found that the Grail Knight set it down on the small table before him. All of a sudden the room around him seemed tacks, not cosy, the wine a needless distraction and the tight belt conspired with the knight`s steely looks to remind him about his lapsed training schedule.
"So what is the problem that needs such reinforcements Sir Gerald."
"Castle Artois is under siege Sir Robert."
"That seems strange given that I was able to enter the castle unmolested. In fact I did not notice any foes that need fighting."
"This is not the siege we know, it is a different kind. When my knights and men-at-arms go in strength we find no enemies to fight and slay. When my tax collectors go about their business they disappear but for the few which we find killed. This castle has not seen a single bard, neither troubadour nor trader that we did not escort under heavy guard. When we send the knights to the hamlets we find some empty and those who still have our serfs they are empty of provisions. My serfs state that rebels come at night, they steal the produce, they entice the young man to join them and they take what would be our tithe. I have sent my knights and men-at-arms after them. We have managed to corner one such group, only nine men all told. They were easy enough to kill but there are so many others that roam the barony. My holding is a great one with many small hamlets and roads, I do not have neither the knights nor the men-at-arms to guard everything. And so this mighty castle is not under siege by any army but of bandits who run when threatened and who fight when we are not there. My knights are mighty and the men-at-arms loyal but it is like trying to eat a soup and all you have is a knife."
"Then we have to thicken the soup it seems. We have to evict most of your serfs from their current hovels and place them into a few strategically placed ones. Then we have them erect palisades through the winter, they are not doing much anyway. We can then guard the transports from these few villages to the castle and will have to escort all traders we really want.
At the same time I will command a group of your knights and warden and will hunt the rebels wherever they may be."
"But Sir Robert, the villages will not have accommodations for so many people, especially not in the depth of winter. And next spring they will be far from their fields, how can they work them."
"The slackers will have to build their own hovels and clean up after themselves. And if they are a bit from their fields they will simply have to rise a bit earlier in the morning, haven`t they?"
"I I guess so Sir Robert."
"I am happy this is settled then."
"Article in Spiegel"
"Wow, so many stuffed animals." Moritz Heisler stands before a huge pile of all kinds of stuffed animals, small, big, new, loved, they are all there. Moritz Heisler has two jobs, one as a highly paif specialist at a forwarder, one as the main coordinator in Hamburg`s exhibition halls` used clothing center. The bearlike German is one of 30 organizers who coordinate the work of a virtual army of volunteers.
Moritz entered this place the first time six weeks ago when he wanted to donate some used clothing for the Bretonian refugees. Somebody asked him of he could help for an hour or two and he stayed ever since. His employer has allowed him to put his normal 40 hours of work whenever he could and he wraps two full time jobs into his time, being paid for only one. In this hall he is "Moritz from the Orga team" in his other he is Strategic Country Manager Clothes and Fashion". Here he is the master of a huge hall full of racks and cartons, of clothing to no end and of many people who simply want to help and enjoy being part of a team.
"The people who arrive in our country now, they had a life and now they have nothing." says the specialist. Volunteer work in such cases can easily lead to chaos, compounding an already bad problem. So many people wanted to donate that it would have been to easy to have two crisis for the price of one. The expert helped with that, brought structure into chaos. Chalk marks on the floor guide the helpers, racks are marked with cardboard signs, all cartons are neatly labelled.
A dedicated Facebook page tells those who want to donate what is needed most and where a surfeit exists.
"We simply have no need for high heeled shoes, really now."
All around him people engage in one of German`s favourite pastimes, self-optimisation. Practically every day some processes are changed so that they run more smoothly, more efficiently. And while none of the team members have seen each other a couple of weeks ago there is a palatable spirit that is hard to deny.
In one corner of the hall a lot of small compartments are divided by cloth barriers. A small team works in each, giving out clothing to a fugitive. They had to help a great lot, lots of buttons, elasticized fabrics and zippers are not part of what the former serfs had ever experienced. Again and again the volunteers have to explain that this is free of charge and that nobody expects them to work for this. A very few of the volunteers are already Bretons who have fled their country during the last years. Their aid is invaluable to keep things as smooth as possible.
Most of them are at another counter where cardboard boxes with the most needed items of daily life are issued and somebody has to explain the mysteries of items like disposable diaper and tampons.
