White Knight and the Vanadis

by Seoras

Tigre has an elder brother Astolfo, the White Knight of Brune. A man on par with Roland, how will he handle life when his brothers life is snuffed out at the Dinant Plains. how will he negotiate the politics of civil war brune. will he come out unscathed or will he die in the end like all men do.

2. Chapter One: Encounter with a Vanadis

Xxx. Chapter One: Encounter with the Vanadis. xxX

Normally Astolfo would be enjoying a warm hearty breakfast with his brother and as always, he would make Titta join them. After all a maid she may be, but she was practically family. Standing not far from the Manor, Astolfo snorted as he heard Titta's shrill voice carry out one of the open windows.

Turning to Bertrand who was helping him, he was an elderly man and while he was only an attendant to his brother Tigrevurmud, he was always willing and ready to render aide to him the lord of the manor. It was sufficing to say Bertrand served the two brothers equally, as did Titta. Looking at the elder man. "What do you think? Should I get the two engaged?"

"I think it is a grand idea, young master." The elder male said as he finished looking over some papers.

"Lady Titta Vorn." A new voice entered the fray, this one belonged to a young boy. He was thirteen and Astolfo's squire, Reynold. He wasn't anyone special, he was just a boy that Astolfo had seen sword fighting with another young lad. But instead of swords they were using sticks. They caught his interest and each day for a month he would ride out just to make sure the two Alsace country boys continued their 'swordsmanship training.' After that he offered them to become his squires. Of course, the two families of the boys were over the moon at the thought of their laddies becoming knights. "Has a nice ring to it. Goodness knowns the house needs a lady."

Chuckling at the cheek of his young squire. "Go join the men by the main gate Reynold."

The boy nodded a little, his cheeky smile still in place as he dashed off eager to join the men who would march off to fight. Shaking his head at his enthusiasm, he could only wish Tigre was just as eager. Knowing his brother, the idiot most likely forgotten that they were marching out. If he were any other lord, he may have just left him behind. But he wasn't any other lord, he was the sort of lord that was actively involved with his people. Helping till the fields. Harvesting the spring crops. Digging wells and irrigation channels.

Stretching a little Astolfo sighed as he headed in. it was about time, he paid his respects to the family bow. As well as make sure that Tigre was playing nice and wasn't riling his wife... maid up.

Actually, he could imagine the state Titta would be in at this very moment. Face distorted, bright red with anger. But because of how gosh darn adorable she was it was about as threatening as a fluffy bunny. Not the most threatening of girls but, she did have mettle and nerves.

Moving and sitting at the dining table, Astolfo grumbled as his stomach reminded him, he hadn't eaten yet this morning. But as usual, Titta wouldn't serve breakfast until the both of them were seated and Perkunas forbid anyone who tries to serve up the food before she can get Tigre down the stairs. While she may not be threatening, that girl has the lungs of a dragon and cry of a banshee. On top of that she could probably talk the hindquarters off a donkey.

'Soldiers are assembling by the main gate, all one hundred of them. All of them should've been outfitted with a chainmail hauberk, coif, kettle hat helmet, arming sword, spear, shield and a tabard, with the house Vorn coat of arms on the back and front. What else, two wagons of rations, horses. three of those. Bertrand, Tigre and me. The tents and shelter are all accounted for and are in a third wagon along with spears arms and armour. Hopefully Prince Regnas will want to keep me close and act as a bodyguard then Tigre and my men will stay in the rear, far from fighting in the enemy lines.'

It was then his inner musings and thoughts were interrupted when he heard Tigre and Titta in a small alcove room off to his left that held the Vorn Family heirloom a Black Bow. Astolfo himself wasn't much of a bowman compared to Tigre. He was quite happy to allow his younger brother to inherit it. He was content with Light-Bringer and Joyuese. One of the Royal families swords that was gifted to him by King Faran himself.

"About time you woke up, Tigre. If we let you sleep any longer, we might miss the entire war." Astolfo joked light-heartedly as his brother hastily took his seat no doubt just as hungry as himself.

Ignoring his brother's jibe at his habit of sleeping until mid-day, Tigre inhaled the sweet fragrant aroma's that swirled around the room as Titta bought the food in. Ham – the bottomless pit across from him would dive into that. – rye bread, two omelettes, two glasses of milk and a large pot of mushroom soup. 'The soup looks great.'

Astolfo seeing his brother go for the soup smiled. He had always been a light eater compared to himself personally. Reaching out he carved himself a generous portion of the ham that Titta had prepared. Sometimes it was handy having not the most skilled maid and cook in the world. It was simple dishes like these that made everything in the world just right. The right glazing, cooking time, freshness of the cut. Thinking about it Tigre, shot the boar that he was currently eating.

Reaching out for some bread and deciding to start on his omelette. Astolfo had to stifle the snort of amusement. As he watched Titta glare at Tigre when he said he was only having soup. 'you'd think he would figure out by now Titta is incredibly stubborn when it comes to meal time. So cute. Mother would be hopping about with laughter along with father if they saw this.' He thought fondly as he thought of his parents. As always Tigre lost the food battle against Titta.

While to some it may seem like Astolfo was being pushed aside by the two adorable sixteen-year olds, that wasn't the case. Both him and Titta are early risers. She had fussed over him just as much as she is fussing over Tigre now with napkin and hair brush. Now that he had finished his own omelette. The only difference was, that he allowed Titta to re-braid his hair again. As well as fuss about with his clothing making sure he looked presentable. As always, he made sure to leave an imperfection for her to pick up on. he always enjoyed the bright look she gained when she fixed something up for him or Tigre, she truly was family.

He then noted that the firebrand of a girl had gone silent and was looking between them both with sad eyes, her voice becoming soft and weak, lips wobbling and eyes glistening as if she were about to cry. "... Lord Astolfo, Tigre."

"Yes?" he replied gently.

Tigre also replied. "Mmmhmm."

"Why? Why must you both go to war, Lord Astolfo."

Now they got to the crux of the problem at hand. He thought he had sensed something being off about how she had been acting this morning being extra diligent and caring towards them. It was obvious as to what she was implying but answering was another matter entirely. Was it for king and country. Was it for pride, honour, status. This was also to be Tigre and Prince Regnas' maiden battles.

It wasn't like Tigre wasn't accustomed to fight quite the opposite. Hell, when they were younger, they had worked together to kill a young Earth Dragon.

"Titta. We march at his Majesty's beckoning. As the head of the Noble House of Vorn, as well as being Earl Vorn himself, it is only natural I serve the king to the best of my ability, not to mention the Prince asked for me personally to be part of his army for this war." He then looked at Tigre. "Plus, it's only natural for me to want to pick my best fighters. To follow me."

"B-but." Her eyes now were welling with tears. As she tried to find a base from which to argue from. "You were only able to gather a hundred soldiers at such short notice..."

She was right of course. The territory of Alsace was not an easy one to traverse. With it being in the foothills of the Voyes Mountains. Being so far away from anything was very much a double-edged sword. It didn't help that Alsace was considered destitute compared to other areas like Agnes and Territoire. Their family alone was considered modest and simple compared to Ganelon and Thenardier.

But while many nobles would gnash their teeth and do anything to gain fame so as to expand Alsace's finances, both he and his brother were rather happy with their state of affairs as they were currently. No annoying politicking of the capital Nice to annoy them. no other nobles wanting anything to do with them. It was far from grand but that was how they liked it.

"...I've heard the enemy is from Zhcted. Shouldn't that mean you and Tigre should stay here in Alsace, Lord Astolfo. Afterall there is only one mountain between us." Titta finished, Astolfo was pleasantly surprised. She had a point. If the War Maiden or whoever King Viktor of Zhcted sent to fight was ballsy enough they could try and march their army over the Voyes Mountain range. It wasn't impossible, just hard, bothersome and time consuming. For any force that was larger than a few hundred men. But it wasn't like he was leaving Celeste Town or the province undefended. He had called the local militia into action. They themselves numbered a further hundred.

Now that he thought about. Alsace really needed to look at strengthening herself. What was he talking about, Alsace in the eyes of many has no strategic value. That's our greatest strength. If the king knew of the potential that Alsace had, the Dukes Ganelon and Thenardier knew. For now, he would rely on the fact it's so far removed from anything strategy that had worked the last hundred odd years. "That may be true, but this is the countryside. Zhcted has no reason to attack this place."

The perk of being a small noble. Your home never became a battle site. Titta seeing she wasn't going to get anywhere with the elder brother and her current lord, whom she loved just as much as she loved Tigre and Lord Urs their father. Rounded on the youngest Vorn. "So, you will go, even if they tease and insult you for your bow?" she questioned heatedly. Astolfo was a tried and tested knight, she knew he would be fine. Tigre on the other hand had never been in a battle. She would make sure he didn't go.

"It's only because they think it impossible to perform distinguished military service with one." he stated boredly, he knew what Titta was doing it wouldn't work. He promised his brother he would fight by his side and that's what he intended on doing. It was the pact they made when fighting the young Earth Dragon.

"Such things don't matter!" the small girl wailed as she clung to him. Burying her face in his chest. By this point both brothers had stood up. Walking up the two of them, Astolfo wrapped the two in a hug of his own.

"Promise that you both wont be injured and that you'll return safely." She said quietly as she held both brothers.

"We'll look after each other." Astolfo said before grinning a little. "Besides we're going to be in the rear anyway. No chance of Tigre getting any military commendations in this battle."

Titta at that point made mention of Tigre's sleeping habits. Which made Astolfo laugh as he walked to the door. "Don't worry then Titta, he'll sleep through all the fight and will wake up when all is said and done."

"I don't like it when you two gang up on me about my sleeping habits." He then joined Astolfo by the door.

Bowing a little to the little lady, Astolfo smiled. "We shall take our leave now, Titta."

Wiping away some of her tears with her sleeve. Titta nodded and smiled. "Please leave the house to me. please be careful Lord Astolfo, Lord Tigre."

With that said both brothers left the house.

! #$%^&*()

Walking through the town, the two young men with farewells and words of luck as they made their way towards the main gate. It had been quiet for two years now with the last major conflict being then. His first one, right after his fathers death. He was nineteen, commanding one hundred men. Actually, he had the entire militia turn up claiming that they would be their to protect him while out on campaign for the king against Muozinel. The same campaign he was given the title of White Knight, Virtuous Knight of Brune and awarded not only with the blade of the fallen Muozinelian General but also with his second most prized possession Joyuse.

Joyuse, the rainbow sword and one of the three great swords of Brune. Alongside Durandal wielded by his counterpart the Black Knight Roland. So far, the King had been unable to find a wielder worthy of Curtana.

Rumour has it that no one knows what the three blades are made of only that in times gone by, that they were Brune's answer to the seven Zhcted Draconic Weapons. Some smiths claim the swords were birthed in the core of a dying star before they fell from the heavens, others, well those theories were ludicrous as best.

Patting his trusted swords that hung at his side Joyuse and Précieuse. Astolfo glanced at his younger brother as he absentmindedly waved back to his people and thank them for their well wishes and prayers. Tigre was so much like their father it wasn't funny. Never having left Alsace's borders properly, once in his life. Yet he took it all in his stride. Light leather armour, green tunic, matching brown boots as his own and dark trews. Let him not forget the bow slung over his shoulders accompanied by a quiver. Even at sixteen, Astolfo knew his brother had a special talent with a bow. He always had.

Coming to the main gate he couldn't help but smile, this had to be the first time ever that Alsace was putting forth a decently armed force of soldiers for the King. Fully armoured men-at-arms. All beautifully uniformed, he would blame that part of his personality on his mother. Everything had to be just so with her, otherwise you would be facing her ire. Bedroom cleaning days were the worst.

He saw Strider his war horse. He had been a prize, after he won a tournament in the royal capital, Nicé. The actual prize was to pick out a mount from any one of the horses in the Kings herds. While he was doing so, he happened upon Princess Regin. Prince Regnas' younger sister. It truly was a surprise to see her outside of the castle and without guards at that. In the end her reasoning for sneaking away was so she could personally meet the White Knight and see which animal he would choose. In the end, Astolfo would freely admit to allowing the Princess to pick out his horse, who he named Strider.

Sad to say after that chance encounter he never met the princess again. He returned home to Alsace and her to the palace. Getting to beside the large brute of a horse, he ran his hand over the highly decorated leather and chain mail barding that draped over striders rump. His head similarly adorned in leather. The bright blue caparison underneath fluttering lightly in the breeze.

Mounting him, he watched as Tigre and Bertrand mounted as well. They were going to be the only ones riding from Alsace. Normally he would allow Reynold and Guy to ride behind him on their own geldings, but he wanted them to experience what it was like to be a common soldier. Looking over his chainmail and tabard clad soldiers. Many whose faces he couldn't make out thanks to the rim of their helmets shadowing their faces. He was possibly the only lord to personally outfit his soldiers.

"Lord Astolfo, everyone is prepared and accounted for." Bertrand said as he spoke from his spot beside Tigre. The old man may not look it but while he has personally served himself, Tigre and their father. He had served as a common soldier both as a man-at-arms and a militia man during his grandfathers time, when he himself was a young lad. He had seen his fair share of fighting in the past.

Due to that fact, he was third in command technically. Although he had no doubt that should he fall and his position as leader fall to Tigre, then he would probably take over and call a retreat. "Good Work Bertrand." Returning his gaze back to his soldiers and squires who were now all lined up in front of him in two neat lines ready for the march. Reynold holding the banner of Alsace, Guy holding his own personal swallow-tailed pennant; light and dark blue division with a triangle overlay by the pole in white with a light blue sun in the centre of the triangle. He also couldn't forget about the dual flags of the raging red Bayard of the royal family. Those two were being hoisted by Louis and Florent, two of his most veteran men-at-arms.

"You've all gathered. Good." He wasn't one for poncey speeches or riling up the men with promises of glory and fame. "I'm not going to lie, Zhcted are powerful. But so are we Brunish." He began. He noted that his men nodded, agreeing with his words as did many of the other folks who had gathered so they could send their menfolk off in good fashion and throw words of encouragement their way. "synonymous of the fact that our Prince Regnas has amassed an army of twenty-five thousand strong. With more lords and knights flocking to the Bayard banner with every passing day. Ours included."

His words got grunts of approval. His words simple, demeanour kind. He was preparing his people for war and the possible outcomes that would come after. "In response to this large gathered host, I wouldn't be surprised if the Zhcted king sent one of his vaunted War Maidens and their magical weapons."

That statement got a sharp intake of breaths from everyone present including his brother. He wasn't going to sugar coat their situation. He had heard the rumours like everyone else, the War Maidens were army killers plain and simple. The only ones in Brune who even came close to such power and skill were himself, the Black Knight Roland and possibly the Dragon Slayer Martha. "I'm not going to lie, I can't promise that you will all return home alive. But I will give my all to try."

He couldn't help but smile a little as he noted that all his soldiers straightened up, eyes hardening. Faces becoming grim, many of them were veterans from the attempted Muozinel invasion two years past. Against all odds these hundred men were the only survivors from his hundred and fifty man contingent. They would perform their duties of that he had no doubt.

Many of the womenfolk he noted began to make eye contact with their husbands, sons, brothers. "We are family, from me the Lord to the youngest stable boy or milk maid. We stand firm, together in life and death. I would gladly give my life for any one of you."

Any who watched this would scoff what sort of lord would claim such a thing. But it was how Alsace survived, how it worked. There was none of this silly business of him the lord hiding behind high walls and watching as his people suffered. No, he would roll up his sleeves and help till the fields, dig the wells and irrigation trenches. He would help reap the harvests. To his people he wasn't Lord Astolfo, he was Astolfo Vorn. A man of virtue, honour, kindness. He was their knight. And to the rest of the country he didn't give a dam as to how they saw him.

Prince Regnas had once asked him, was he loyal to the king or the country. At the time he answered negatively to both. 'I'm loyal to Alsace my Prince. All I do is for the betterment of Alsace and her people. If that means I am ordered to fight a foreign army then I will fight. If it means that I have to fight a Vanadis and her Vralt then I shall.'

The only reply he got from the prince was a small smile. One that made his eyes twinkle in the sun light. He remembered the princes words vividly after that. 'When I become King. I hope to have the same mindset as you Lord Vorn.'

But there were no outsiders present only friends and family, all of whom were good company. He liked to note that his plain and simple words had bought many to tears along with many of his soldiers, banging their spears against their shields and roaring with approval. "Our destination is the Dinant Plains in the North, we rendezvous with Lord Mashas of Aude halfway there. Move out!" his voice carried as it boomed out. Even little Titta was their waving them off.

"Guy de Lusignan! You stay safe ya hear! I don't wanna hear any stories of foolishness!" A middle-aged woman hollered as they marched by. Seemed his Squires mother was more worried than she looked.

"Give the Zhcted Dogs hell Geoffroy!"

"PAPA! Get me a present!"

That was little Flore Mignard, she was Wilfried's little girl. She was waving and smiling within the tight grip of her mother. Who was putting on a brave face for her daughter.

"Remember your promise! Lord Astolfo, Tigre!"

"De Chatillon! Fields need reaping when ya get back. No getting hurt in battle my boy!" a withered leathery old man yelled out as he waved his cane about. Astolfo noted, the old goat was holding back tears as his son marched past. "You protect the lord! Or I'll have ya guts for garters lad!"

! #$%^&*()

As they were marching through the countryside one of the men cheerfully joked. "Raoul! Should've bought the wife along. The enemy only has five thousand men. She could scare them off with her shouting!"

At that remark the entire column of soldiers erupted in laughter including Bertrand and Astolfo.

"Last I checked your wife was pretty nifty when chasing you swinging that pan of hers bet, she would be able to chastise the whole lot of them!" Raoul retorted, in good humour which gained more laughter.

'Morale is definitely not going to be a problem in the coming days.' Astolfo thought as he laughed along with his soldiers.

Tigre reining in beside his brother looked ahead as he spoke. "Worried?"

"Our two countries haven't crossed blades since I was born twenty years ago. The fact this war is going to be over a border river flooding amazes me. It should never have come to this." He ranted a little, this whole fight was a farce. But he couldn't very well tell the men that. "I'm worried Tigre. This is your first battle, I'm still learning to be a good lord."

Astolfo looked tired for once instead of bursting with energy like he always did, surprising Tigre, who had never seen him look so vulnerable. Even during both their mother and father funerals had he looked so defenceless. "I don't want to fight. There is no need for me and my merry band of soldiers to bother. I've seen enough fighting for one life-time. The invasion two years ago was brutal. Battle after battle. With little reprieve or pause so as to gather ones wits and thoughts. It haunts me you know. The memories. Faces of men that I never knew and killed." Shaking his head. Astolfo had hoped to be able to grow old and doddering in his home in Alsace and not have to worry about fighting over and over again.

He had originally planned to ignore the Kings summons to the Dinant Plains. But then he received a second letter from Princess Regin. She begged and pleaded with him to protect Regnas at Dinant. And who was he to refuse a young maiden. "Awww don't listen to me Tigre. Just focus on the battle ahead and keeping yourself safe." He then reached out and patted him on the shoulder. "Your only priority is yourself and surviving. Understood?"

His gaze was intense. He would not allow his only remaining family member to become a victim in this pointless war. If that meant he had to be a coward and run in the face of the enemy then he would. His pride meant nothing, when his families safety was at stake. "I understand. I'll look after myself. But whose going to look after you? Your not a god. Your skilled, but not even you can beat everyone." The younger Vorn challenged.

"You let me worry about me. I have no intentions of dying this week. If the army runs, I run. If my men retreat, I retreat. If my brother asks me to run, I will run." He finished as he let go of Tigre.

! #$%^&*()

Sitting down at a small campfire, Astolfo was joined by a couple of his own soldiers. As he enjoyed a hot cup of tea and a bowl of stew. He himself had just gotten done speaking with his fellow aristocrat Lord Mashas, who had been a great support for him and Tigre since their fathers passing. The elder lord had just shared with him information regarding the commander of the Zhcted forces. It seemed they were being led by a young girl of sixteen years. The same age as Tigre. That wasn't all, she was a War Maiden. One of the better-known ones and not for her overwhelming power either. More for her hot-headed nature and the fact she was a former mercenary under the command of Vissarion; Eleonora Viltaria. Also known as the Wind Princess of the Silver Flash and the Danseuse of the Sword.

He had to admit it baffled him that such a young girl was capable of wielding such power. But then again. King Viktor was probably an old pervert, who just wanted to end his days surrounded by beautiful young women kneeling and bowing to him. He then snorted as he remembered what Mashas said about her beauty; 'quite the extraordinary beauty, a jewel that will never fade.'

If anything, the old man was probably starved of carnal desire ever since his wife took to the sick bed a few months back. No doubt the old bastard was regaling his little brother now about the beauty of the Vanadis. 'I swear if Tigre comes asking for me to try an arrange something between him and a War Maiden, I'll have Mashas' guts on a silver platter.' The androgynous male grumped to himself.

He shouldn't worry, but something didn't seem right. Everything was going as he hoped, a cushy spot in the rear with literally no chance of fighting in the coming morning when the armies drew up their battle lines. The Prince had all but asked him to be at his side as he watched over the army during the battle. 'Here comes trouble.' He thought as he noted Zion Thenardier approaching his brother. 'Pompous little git is probably going to belittle Tigre for his use of the bow over a sword.'

Some of the soldiers around Astolfo, noted how he had gone silent and wasn't laughing with them or engaging in conversation. Many of them turned to see Zion. That was until they saw Zion go to stomp on Tigre's bow, that some of them went to stand, hands going to sword hilts.

They all halted however, when Astolfo held out his arm. Halting them. 'I want to see how this plays out.' So far Tigre had done well, he had shown the minimum amount of respect required of him when speaking to another noble. That and he made sure Bertrand hadn't tried to go to his defence. If he was to score him, like what their mother used to do with the both of them, he would give him sixty points.

He wanted to defend his brother, truly he had. But people hadn't noticed it, but Tigre had shot him a quick look. That was all he needed to know. Tigre wanted to deal with it himself. He could've picked a better person to bicker with other than Duke Felix Aaron Thenardier's eldest son. But he had to give him props. He held his own admirably. He was proud of him.

"As much as it pains me to interrupt such an eloquent lecture. Their handing out tonight's wine rations. Go fill your goblet and quench the thirst you no doubt worked up." Mashas was a saint at times and while Tigre had asked him to stay out of it, he hadn't asked the elder lord to.

'If I suddenly died, I'm sure I could count on Mashas' to mentor Tigre into becoming a fine lord.' Astolfo thought to himself as he and his men began talking and laughing again. As he did, both he and Tigre shared a smile and a nod between them.

But still while that small interchange between heirs had been a welcome distraction, Astolfo couldn't help but shake the feeling. That something was wrong. What was Zhcted doing? Five thousand and a war maiden against twenty-five thousand Brunish men led by the Prince as well as possessing himself; the white knight and the wielder of Joyuse.

Either the King was confident that the War Maiden was powerful enough to defeat such a large army or the numbers were wrong and another Zhcted host was marching on their position during the dark hours of night. 'she wouldn't risk a night raid, would she? The ground is to wet for that everything below the hill is practically swampy thanks to the rains and the burst river bank. To many factors would be working against her.'

! #$%^&*()

It wasn't too long before dawn during the hour of the Wolf. Astolfo had risen early and was in the process of donning his armour, it was simple, and light compared to many of his fellow lords. But it suited him just fine, there was no need for such a cumbersome load, so long as you were agile enough to evade many of the strikes coming his way. He had already put on his thin plate armour that covered his upper right arm as well as the chain and leather glove for his lower arm.

Guy was finishing tying off the lacing for his five layered plain white leather breast plate that had been boiled as well as having patches of chainmail between each layer over many of the vital spots of his body that would mean an instant death. As Guy was doing that, he was putting on his left arm bracer that was a mixture of white leather with chainmail bands wrapped around it and riveted into place. Going from elbow to fingertip.

Seeing Guy step back, Astolfo dismissed the younger boy who was only fourteen years old. Deciding not to grab Joyuse or Light-Bringer. Astolfo went with tying Précieous to his waist as he walked out of his tent. On this day of battle, both Guy and Reynold would be joining the other squires and guarding the camp. Keeping it fortified and secure in case they were forced to beat a hasty retreat and bunker down on the hill. Walking out his tent he gratefully accepted a coffee from his brother Tigre. Who surprisingly was up before dawn. Then again many of his own men had retired in early and were up early, armoured and ready at a moment's notice.

Softly padding over to Strider, he noted that Reynold had already saddled him as well as put on his barding, most likely with the help of a couple of the other soldiers. Patting his flank, he grabbed the stallions large head and rubbed the white comet star between his eyes, "I'm counting on you today to carry me." he muttered as he rubbed the side of neck just behind his ears.

Mounting up, he looked about and decided to let Strider stretch his legs a little and trotted him to the rear of the camp. His trusted hunting horn he noted was slung across the saddle horn. It was rather helpful to use as a rallying call. Every man of Alsace knew its sound well.

Getting to the rear, he decided to humour one of the guards that was standing by watching the Brunish side of the plains sprawl and stretch out before him. While just off their left the ground dropped down into a steep slope that led into a sparse wooded area. "See anything?"

The guard grunted. "Nothing outta the ordinary, lord. Saw a wolf about an hour ago. Few other creatures have passed us by at a distance."

"Very well then." Astolfo said as he turned Strider anticlockwise allowing him to gaze towards the wooded area. squinting into the morning gloom and slight fog that had settled. Astolfo was straining everyone of his senses. He was sure he saw something move in the treeline.

That was when he heard it. A gentle whinny of a horse, he may have missed it. If it wasn't for Striders ears pricking up and his body visibly tensing.

"Did you hear that?" He whispered harshly to the guardsman next to him.

"Hear what my lord?"

"A horse, just then." He muttered lowly. Before looking about. "Quiet all of you." His order was followed by the other guard whispering the same thing to a nearby group.

Waiting a second, he heard it again. A nickering sound and a snort coming from the trees. "there it goes again." This time he knew something was wrong. Strider was stamping his right hoof now. As well as the hairs on the back of his own neck standing on end something that didn't happen often and one of the more memorable times was when he and Tigre accidentally confronted a young earth dragon.

"I heard it to." This time it was an archer who was close by. He was definitely a hunter.

"Defensive positions. NOW!" Astolfo roared as he pulled his horn to his lips and blew into it.

The sound was deep yet high pitched as he ended the sound. Before sounding it again. Then a third time.

By the third time he noted that his own soldiers, brother, Lord Mashas as well as many other soldiers were streaming to his position. "FORM UP! SPEAR'S TO THE FRONT. ARCHERS BEHIND! SWORDS, AXES AND HAMMERS TO THE FLANKS!" Astolfo bellowed as he wheeled Strider about. He was happy to note his own men by the time they arrived were forming an honour guard about him. Three ranks deep.

His shouts were soon taken up by other lords who had come to join the fray.

! #$%^&*()

At the bottom of the hill, one of the knights cursed lowly as a dead branch fell from a tree before landing near his horse with a dull crack and thud, spooking the war beast. As he was removing the cotton and dull cloth from his mount. The dumb beast had whinnied lowly in surprise at the occurrence which prompted its neighbour to do much the same thing which earnt him a glare from a couple knights that were nearby. This attack would only work if the rear-guard was taken unawares.

Wincing a little as she heard the two quiet brays of the horses. 'I hope they didn't hear that.' The argent haired war maiden mentally hoped. This attack was a gamble, relying solely on the hopes that the Brunish would be comfortable in the knowledge they had superior numbers.

The plan was simple she left Lim in charge of four thousand soldiers a mixture of knights and foot soldiers. While she herself would lead a splinter group of thousand knights and spear men and attack the rear-guards flank in an attempt to kill the prince. She had gone to great lengths to prepare her group large dark cloths covering the horses, cotton wrapped around their hooves. The knights themselves were wearing modified armour that had larger gaps between the plates, so they would clank together.

According to her scout, there was a sentry every fifty meters which was standard protocol for a war time camp. She just hoped that the nickering of her men's horses were confused for their own and no hunters or anyone close by would alert the sentries to her forces presence.

Her fears however were answered as a horn sounded off eerily three times which was accompanied with the sound of shouting and men running about. "Dam! Well we can still salvage this." She muttered to herself. She was actually somewhat pleased that someone was able to figure out what was happening. Mounting up quickly she raised her sword into the air. "I ride to victory, I ride to glory. WHOSE WITH ME!" she shouted as she spurred her white war horse forwards. "CHARGE!"

As she bellowed that her Knights and foot soldiers charged forwards. All caution gone to the wind. The Black Dragon Flag of Zhcted fluttering in the breeze. Her own banner a silver sword on a blue field flutter right beside her countries own.

! #$%^&*()

Astolfo hearing the rumbling of a cavalry charge bellowed. "BRACE YOURSELVES!" he then looked about his personal standard was flying high nearby being held by one of his men-at-arms along with the house Vorn arms. He could also see a Thenardier banner, Ganelon Banner. There were some other minor houses as well; Robillard, Féret and Leblanc to name a few. "We hold here. We do not break. We are the Princes men, for ruin or for glory we stand firm!" he shouted. Over the thundering of hooves that were horrifyingly close.

The knights were all dismounted, many of them with lances standing alongside the common spearmen that each lord bought bolstering the numbers allowing him to have a solid formation of five hundred spears three ranks deep and a hundred and sixty-six files wide. The front-rank hand their spears pointing straight out while the second and third ranks were angled upwards in case the cavalry jumped the front rank. His flanks were being watched by the swordsmen, axemen and hammermen. Many of them were militia. But he could see the odd royal guardsman organising them into units of four men. Gods he was happy some capable men were nearby.

"Where the bloody hell is the Prince and the rest of the army?!" he shouted, hoping someone would answer him.

The enemy cavalry was still fifty Alsin away and closing fast.

Deciding to pep the men up he bellowed again. "I'm the White Knight of Brune. Know that I stand with you! As long as I draw breath victory is close at hand. Everyman here by days end will be heroes. The rear-guard that saved the Crown Prince. You'll all be knighted!" he shouted. Earning laughs from the ranks and files. "If you need a reason to fight then all you need to think about are the women and children. I don't think I'm the only one here that would be upset about five thousand Zhcted dogs running about our countryside pillaging and raping our lands, wives, mothers, aunts and daughters." He called out.

This got growls of approval from all those who heard him.

The enemy were practically on top of them. The initial clash was thunderous. But the spears did their jobs. Many of the horses balked with a few sliding in the gaps between the spears and barrelling into the shield wall only for the second and third rank spears to skewer the rider as the mount burst through the lines knocking men over.

He hadn't needed to order the archers to do naught, as one of the other lords had taken that command. They were directly behind his formation of men-at-arms that surrounded him as he barked out orders. He had given Mashas the left flank. Lord Robillard the right flank, Lord Féret was commanding the Archers while Leblanc was running about spewing words of encouragement and getting in amongst the fighting in the back lines of the spears. Dispatching Zhcted knights who had been thrown by their balking mounts.

Surveying the battle, he was happy to note the men were holding but it wouldn't last, he had less than a thousand men. The Prince was nowhere to be seen, many of his men were a hodgepodge mix from all over Brune and it showed as they lacked cohesion. They would probably be able to hold a few hours at most. "We have twenty-five gods dam thousand men, where the bloody hell is our gods be dammed reinforcements!?" Astolfo yelled out in a burst of frustration as he saw the right begin to buckle before some knights rallied around Robillard and pushed back.

It was then a rider came from the rear. "Who's in charge!" he cried out.

"I AM!" Astolfo yelled back on instinct.

"My Lord, I bring news from the Prince. He is at the front with the rest of the rear-guard and main army fighting the other Zhcted force." The young lad shouted hoarsely. "The Prince wishes to know if you can hold? He is reluctant to send reinforcements." The young rider finished.

"How bloody big is the other host?" Astolfo questioned. "Shouldn't be more than four thousand soldiers. Who the hell is ordering the men over there!" he didn't expect the boy to know. Come to think about it, many of the lords of bigger houses would be vying to control the army.

"Don't know. But there's a lot of them."

Cursing under his breath. "Tell the Prince that if he hears my horn sound twice, the rear is lost, and we were overwhelmed."

"Yes, My lord."

The boy went to ride away before Astolfo spoke again. "Lad, as soon as you deliver that message you go back to where the other squires are and break camp, our exit is likely to be bloody." He said getting a nod from the young man.

"So much for the rear being a soft posting brother." Tigre said lightly as he loosed another arrow at an enemy knight, plucking him out of his saddle.

Astolfo didn't dignify Tigre with an answer at that statement but was rather frowning as he noted that the front line was buckling now under the pressure of being hit again and again by multiple cavalry charges.

The flanks were doing no better either. The Zhcted footmen were doing their job well enough. The Brunish men were barely holding on their. His once straight battle line was a jagged mess.

"Bertrand! Take forty-five men and bolster the right under Lord Robillard." Astolfo ordered as he made his mind up to commit his own hundred men.

"Of course, Lord!" as he said that forty-five men charged off to the right, they didn't have to run far before slamming into the flank of the Zhcted line that was harrying the right.

'If I survive this, I'm going to make sure that I have another hundred men at my command and all of them archers. If only I had more archers.' He then looked at the left. "Gaspard! Take forty-five men and bolster Mashas' position, hit them bloody hard for me!"

"Right!" Gaspard was a barrel of a man wielding a huge war hammer instead of a spear. He was one of the elder members of his retinue of soldiers and a former Merc that had settled down in Alsace, with his wife, three sons and two daughters. He watched as the forty-five did much the same as Bertrand and his forty-five. Although he was pleased to note that Gaspard hit'em hard, if the red mist that splashed up was any indication, he had caved in a man's skull.

Noting some archers had stopped shooting growled before turning to them. "Right you lot on me and get ready to bolster the centre!" he growled as he wheeled Strider about who was snorting and stomping his hooves. Not doubt he was ready for a good fight. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to be the case in this one. dismounting he drew his sword. And was mirrored by Tigre who was still loosing arrows as he had six quivers strapped to his saddle.

Looking at his ten remaining Alsace soldiers he glanced about and noted the archers all fifty of them were joining his makeshift line along with Lord Féret who came to his left. "This is going to be bloody isn't it."

"No doubt." Was Astolfo's immediate reply. "We can only bloody them now at this juncture. There's no chance of victory here." He then looked about at the men. "But we're Kings men."

"All in the name of the King!" Féret said.

"CHARGE THE CENTRE!" Astolfo yelled as he ran forwards with his men, the archers, Lord Féret and Tigre hot on his heels.

A battle cry was taken up by the archers and men of Alsace as they charged forwards a battle cry that was taken up by every Brunish patriot fighting "FOR THE KING!" it was a dam good rallying cry as the Brunish men pushed back.

The effect of their charge was instant. Sixty-three bodies slammed into the rear lines and strengthen the front as they filtered forwards allowing some of the other men a reprieve as they had been fighting the past hour. It was their time.

When you had someone like Astolfo the White Knight joining the fray it was much the same effect as a War Maiden. He ripped through man and beast alike with no distinction between the two.

Looking at the sun in the sky, Astolfo mused for half a second before riposting a blade and attacking a man making sure to keep Tigre in sight. 'Just after the hour of the nightingale.' The battle all things considered was slowing down a little. Which was good. That was when he heard it. The sound of a horn blasting twice.

Pulling back a little and allowing someone to take his spot he looked about and noted that there was a runner "WHITE KNIGHT! WHITE KNIGHT! WHITE KNIGHT!"

Not wasting any time, he waved the runner over. It wasn't hard to distinguish him from the others. He was the only one who looked truly red now thanks to the blood of his enemies drenching him in their gore. "What is it!" Astolfo noted the panicked look on the man's face.

"The Prince has disappeared! The army is in total disarray, one of the lords sounded the retreat." The runner said before sprinting off away from the battle. No doubt wanting to get as far away as possible.

Spying his brother, he ran over to him cutting down another soldier. As far as numbers went it was currently a stalemate. The Brunish while outnumbered had the land advantage and were defending which naturally meant they weren't exerting themselves as fiercely as the Zhcted knights and soldiers. "We're about to pull out!" he called out to Tigre as he watched his brother pull an arrow out of a corpse before shooting it calmly at an enemy knight. Not doing too much damage other than lodging itself in his armour. At this point accuracy wasn't at the forethought of his mind, rather just hitting his target was enough to stagger or slow them down for a Brunish Knight or man-at-arms to cut them down.

"When?!" The boy called back. Moving closer he spoke as he noted a bunch of light cavalry coming out of the forest no doubt having been dispatched from the other Zhcted host that had beaten their main army.

"Soon." Was all Astolfo said as he pushed the back of a man in front of him as the Zhcted line pushed against them. "Probably just before the light cavalry hits us." Astolfo grunted a little as he had the file of men slide back into him again. "hopefully it will stun them and give us a chance of escape."

Just as he was about to say something else. Astolfo watched as a spear was thrown in his direction. By now it wouldn't be a surprise if the enemy had figured out that he was leading this small and stubborn force that had dwindled down to barely four-five hundred men. Ninety-three of them were his own men. It was coming his way, but it seemed that the thrower hadn't allowed for the horses gait, the breeze or weight of the spear.

Watching as the spear skewed away from him, he smirked at the mans attempt. His eyes soon widened in shock, anger, sadness, anguish, hate, rage.

The spear had plunged into Tigre's chest. Before bursting out the other side. Through his spine. This wasn't supposed to happen. That spear was meant to kill him, not Tigre.

Seeing his little brother slumped on the ground, his bow lying on the ground close to his body, arrows spilled messily about him. Astolfo turned his attention back to the battle that was still going on behind him. Seeing the light cavalry rider circling around and getting another spear ready. He roared in anger before charging back into the fray with renewed vigour his horn falling at the feet of Lord Robillard who was bleeding from multiple wounds. Picking up the horn he sounded the retreat.

Everyone heeding the call except for Astolfo who in his grief-stricken madness continued carving his way through the enemy ranks. Man, and beast stood no chance against Précieuse's licking blade as he hacked and slashed at limbs, bodies, heads, hooves.

! #$%^&*()

At some point after killing the man who had killed Tigre. Astolfo locked blades with the War Maiden Eleonora Viltaria. While they fought though many of the surrounding knights and soldiers converged on their position in an attempt to save their leader from the slim chance of losing to the berserk gore drenched warrior fighting her.

It was how, it led to him being surrounded. He alone lost track of how many men he had killed during the morning hours of the owl, just after dawn. He knows for a fact that his forces probably killed a half of the force attacking the rear-guard while he himself, well he didn't know.

Admittedly sometime during the short and brief clashes he had with the War Maiden before it was broken up by common knights and soldiers getting in the way, Astolfo had regained his wits long enough to decide that for Tigre's death a tactical victory would suffice. 'The War Maidens head is mine.' Those were his thoughts. That was however until he could hear the advance of the main Zhcted force. The Black Dragon Banner waving lazily in the breeze.

Any second now he would be surrounded by enemies on all sides. At that point a blue armour-clad knight that looked distinctly female from horse back charged him along with one other. 'perhaps this blue knight is the War Maidens second in command.'

Breaking his sword lock with another man he deftly riposted a lunge before allowing the curved tip of Précieous to lick, rend and carve into the mans neck. Turning he charged the pair of mounted knights. He would go right between the two.

As he did, he ducked the duo of swords aimed to separate his head from his neck. Jamming his blade, he teared the horses midriff open of the accompanying knight. While he drew a dagger and stabbed it into the horse of the blue knights flank, cutting into the joint where the hind leg connected to the body.

Both beasts stumbled and fell. It would be at that moment while he was distracted with killing the blue knight that he would be blind-sided and tackled to the ground by a pair of knights. Struggling he managed to extricate himself from the knights that had tackled him. Only to growl in annoyance at the ring of steel aimed at him. Even while in anger, he hadn't been wholly reckless in his fighting never taking on more than one or two fighters at a time. Constantly moving so he wouldn't be surrounded.

It was then that the ring of soldiers parted slightly allow for the War Maiden to push her mount through and level her sword at him. She herself had been fortunate enough not to gain a single marking on her body.

It was strange. He had seen her in the initial Zhcted charge but after that she seemed to have no impact. The fighting should've been much more abrupt if the vaunted strength of the Vanadis was all it was cracked up to be. While as a brother he was angry at the loss of his brother and heir to the province of Alsace. As a commander and soldier, he was found wanting. 'Had she gone to the front though? While I was concentrating on holding the line. Was she the one who turned the tides for the other host against the twenty-four-thousand-man force.' If that was the case then, he and his men got lucky.

As he gazed sternly and angrily at the War Maiden before him, he couldn't help but notice she was smiling and clearly looked happy. Honestly, he thought she was happy at the fact she was going to be able to execute the man that had ruined her sneak attack and cost her near a fifth of her army of five thousand.

He growled angrily to himself as he found his mind wandering Mashas' words the night before about her unfading beauty. White skin like the snow-capped peaks that were perpetually covered around Alsace. Regal definitions outlining her face, accompanied by crimson eyes that overflowed with energy and power. cursing himself for nearly falling for a young mans dalliance with the War Maiden he almost snapped at the blue clad knight he had unhorsed as she went to retrieve his sword.

"I wish to know the name of the War Maiden I surrender to."

"Eleonora Viltaria. Yours? Sir Knight." He scowled as the stray thought of her voice sounding like the wind and being able to clear the stench of the blood, shit and piss away. Her eyes were a mysterious crimson hue now that he looked properly a few shades lighter than his own plum red hair.

"Earl Astolfo Vorn. I surrender to you, Lady Eleonora Viltaria." When he gave both his title and name, he noted her happy and pleased countenance brightened even more.

He then noted that the Zhcted knight resumed her movements to retrieve his sword. "I don't know how it is done in Zhcted, but when a distinguished noble surrenders, it is the duty of the victorious commander to retrieve the sword not an errand girl. Would you sully my honour further after this defeat?" He questioned as he looked at the War Maiden who had only spoken her name since he had encountered her.

Sheathing her own blade, the War Maiden smiled easily as she halted her mount next to Astolfo and his scimitar Précieuse. Reaching down she picked up his blade. "I wouldn't dream of it."

She then made her horse walk backwards showing her skill as a rider off a little before gazing fondly at Astolfo; his plum red hair pulled back in a braid. Piercing blue eyes that reminded her of a predator. Muscular androgynous build. Admittedly when she first glimpsed this white knight cutting down her own knights like harvest wheat, she believed for a short moment that he was truly a female. But upon further investigation and hearing various reports, one being from a soldier of hers now missing an arm. Stated that the white knight was a highly skilled man that had been wreaking havoc for their army for the past three hours. In that time, he had killed more men than the entirety of the Brunish Army combined she had to guess, but then again while the small rear-guard through up a hasty defence they had held admirably.

Admittedly she was upset that she had lost near one thousand men in total with nearly a hundred of them being inflicted by Astolfo himself. But his skill alone and the fact she had been able to capture this dragon of a man alive was reward enough. Now all she had to do, was entice him into joining Zhcted. "Very well, Earl Vorn."

Now that she thought about it, compared to many knights he was rather lightly armoured and to an untrained eye his armour looked shabby and of low-quality. That wasn't the case at all. Dare she say that his armour was possibly made by a royal armourer or by someone with equal skill. His armour alone was beautiful, probably worth more than four sets of her knights own armour. A literal king's ransom.

Smiling at the man softly. She couldn't begin to understand the shame of being captured or the toll of this battle in general. "You belong to me now."

He was somewhat surprised when, that's an understatement he was wholly surprised when Eleonora called for her men to stand down. "Lim take Earl Vorn, he's my captive now. Be sure not to be too rough with him."

Seeing the blue knight walk over to him he allowed her to take hold of his arm willingly as she escorted him away. There wasn't much point in putting up to much of a fight now anyways. He did not however that her grip was far tighter than it needed to be, he would allow it. She was obviously ashamed of being unhorsed by a man with a dagger and sword. That was evident when she was mounted, on a fresh horse that was bought to her. "Get on."

Just by her terse tone he could tell she was peeved with having to escort him personally. Swinging himself onto the horses rump, of which nickered in annoyance at the extra weight of its rider. "This would be a whole lot easier if you allowed me my own horse." He said as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

'I knew there was something wrong with this battle. Prince Regnas disappearing, Tigre dead, our entire army routed and scattered to the wind. It couldn't have been a more one-sided victory for Zhcted if they hadn't tried. I hate to think of the death toll on our side. At least a thousand Zhcted soldiers died. But with the element of surprise being on their side, our casualties will be far higher.' Astolfo though gravely as he swayed with the horse using his legs to hold on more than his hand resting on Lim's shoulder.

What would imprisonment hold for Earl Astolfo Vorn of Alsace.

! #$%^&*()

It had taken week at least for the men of Alsace to regroup, return to the battlefield, retrieve their dead and return home. It was a sad week indeed. All told the men of Alsace were fortunate, out of the hundred and four that marched from Celeste Town's front gate two weeks ago, seven were now dead and one captured by the enemy;

Tigrevurmud Vorn

René

Lucas

Fabien

Richard

Pierre

And Émile; all of them had families waiting for them to return home. Gaspard and Bertrand were grim as they marched at the head of the column they were leading. Each dead man was being stretchered by four others.

The twenty-eight that were acting as carriers rotated with a few other men that weren't wounded. But that wasn't many. Of the ninety-six that remained alive, thirty were carrying various wounds and being cared for by the thirty-eight other men who were only sporting minor scratches and bruises. "We need to get Lord Astolfo back. Bertrand, we'll have to pay the ransom somehow." Gaspard whispered lowly as the gates of Celeste came into view. Strider had been walking just ahead of them, the whole way home. Never leaving their sight.

"I know, but we haven't received word yet. Knowing Lord Astolfo he will advise that the Ransom note be sent to Lord Mashas who will come to inform us." The elder man said as he tried to remain strong. He had been desolate since he carried Tigre's body away from the battlefield during the hasty and organised retreat.

The rotund hammerman nodded as he stomped along next to the lither man. It was then Bertrand turned and began to walk backwards so he could address everyone he was in charge of now, now that both their lord and his brother were unable to lead. "We carry the bodies straight to the temple, don't stop for anyone. They mourn in the proper place."

! #$%^&*()

Today was the day. Titta thought excitedly as she waited by the main gate of Celeste, along with everyone else. She could see them now, trudging along. Tired and weary from fighting and marching. If she knew her lord like she did, then in a couple of days he would throw a feast for everyone in the town to attend.

She was giddy, it had been so lonely in the Vorn Manor. Without Tigre or Astolfo, the town itself lost some of its lustre without the lord being present in his house. Judging by the excited and nervous whispers of the people around her she was sure they were of the same mind as her.

It didn't take long for her hopes to be dashed, along with the feeling of trepidation to flood the crowd of towns people, as Strider their lords beloved War Horse pranced through the gate snorting and stomping his feet in a fierce fashion, making man, woman and child scatter out of his path. Strider was a brute with Astolfo riding him, he was wild when left to his own devices. 'Where's Astolfo?!' where her alarmed thoughts as she watched Strider clop along one of the many streets of Celeste no doubt one of the more experienced stable hands would be off to fetch the brute soon.

That was when she heard the first wails of anguish reach her ears making her turn. That was when she saw Bertrand and Gaspard. Gaspard was staunch, grim and stoic, refusing to look anywhere but where he was walking. Not even once glancing towards his wife and children.

Bertrand on the other hand made eye contact with her for but a second before settling his gaze on the cobblestones. "Bertrand!" She called her voice full of hope. "Where's Astolfo and Ti...gre." Titta began to say before she saw what, rather whom the standard bearers Louis, Florent were bearing along with Geoffroy and Wilfried. Bringing her hands to her mouth her eyes began to instantly water, before a flood of tears burst forth. She wanted to scream but no sound would come. She was struck dumb.

Tigre lying limply, hands folded over his chest. His favoured bow resting atop his body along with a pair of arrows. His hands placed so they were trying in vein to cover the gaping hole in his chest. His skin pale and ashen. Hair lacking its bouncy quality. Eyes closed. He looked so peaceful.

She stiffly walked towards the stretcher, following it only a few paces away. It had to be a dream, a terrible joke. Tomorrow she would wake and have to wake him for breakfast as she always did. It was then her mother appeared and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She was a shrine maiden and one of the main carers for the temple in Celeste. And as much as her duties demanded she help care for the bodies of the fallen men before their burial, she was also a mother. She had to be their for her daughter who was experiencing loss for the first time. It just so happened to be the boy she loved.

'Titta.' The shrine maiden silently said as she guided her grief-stricken daughter to the temple.

Many other families were much the same as Titta, but much more vocal. Screaming it couldn't be true. The wounded were soon being fussed over by the able-bodied members of the town.

Guy and Reynold were swamped by their parents who were looking for any sign of harm. It was then that Reynold looked at his father tears in his eyes. "You can have my guts for garters old man. I failed. the lord he was taken, he held back a thousand enemies as we made our escape. We failed. We failed." the boy broke down in tears.

Choking on his own tears of joy at seeing his son alive and well. Tightened his hold on his son. "You came home safe. Its what the lord would've wanted. You did good boy."

! #$%^&*()

It wasn't long later. Guy was sitting by a wall in the only tavern in all of Celeste. Before he suddenly slammed his fist against the wall. Surprising many of the people present. "What's the matter lad." One of the elder men questioned, he was a soldier that had gotten away from Dinant without to much in the form of injuries. Clovis if he remembered correctly.

"What's the matter!" the boy of thirteen shouted. "I'll tell you what's the matter. Our lord is being held prisoner! What are we doing sitting here twiddling our thumbs we should be trying to figure out a way to break him out. Not drinking!" he said as he knocked Clovis' cup out of his hands spilling it all over the floor.

"Why you!" Clovis growled as he went for his sword.

"ENOUGH!" a voice boomed accompanied with the thump of a lump of iron hitting the ground. Gaspard having heard and seen what was happening as he entered the tavern sighed. Bertrand was at the Vorn house seeing to things, him standing in while Lord Vorn was held in captivity. He on the other hand was sent to make sure spats like this didn't happen between the many hotheads that Lord Astolfo commanded. "Guy go cool your head, I'll deal with you in a minute."

Watching the boy leave the room he walked over to Clovis and belted him in the gut with his free fist. "Are you calm now Clovis?" Gaspard questioned before continuing when he saw the man try to pick himself off the floor only to have the weight of his hammer rested upon it. "is this how Astolfo would want to see his men behaving. Guy is young, eager and angry like all kids his age. A few more fights will break that. As for the rest of you. Don't get to deep in your cups. I want you fit to fight at a moments notice. Who knows what sort of vultures circle Alsace at a time like this."

He then turned around stomped his way out the tavern intent on finding the hot-blooded squire.

Clovis was soon helped up by another man. "Shouldn't have gone for the sword." He chided smugly as he placed another mug in front of the bruised man.

"Sod off Ignace."

! #$%^&*()