2 days later…
"Hansa, we failed."
"Yes, I know. I watched that traitor walk alongside Percival of the Round Table the other day. But it matters little in the grand scheme of things. We have what we need."
After a long period of laying low and avoiding the Roman guards by staying in different areas of the city. Hansa gathered his men for a meeting. They hadn't seen each other since the murder attempt. They scattered like leaves in the wind. He and his band of Saxons were at the far end of the refugee camps near the Northwest walls. The guards rarely patrol this part of the camp due to the sheer insignificance of the refugees in the grand scheme of things. Perfect for hiding from the Romans.
"I didn't expect you to succeed anyways. I only ordered you to cause a distraction long and loud enough for me to enact my real plan." Hansa said as he opened his bag.
"Then what was your plan? And what are you saying? Are you serious with what you said? Was killing that fucking traitor not worth it to you?" Asked Eardwulf. He was secretly mad at his leader because Hansa didn't see the value in killing Corvus - the one who had betrayed his own brothers for money. Eardwulf wanted to have the pleasure of sinking his blade into Corvus' chest. He even wanted to ask Hansa if he could try the assassination attempt again. But with how Hansa is acting right now, it appears that he wouldn't get the chance.
"Not compared to what I have taken from him." Hansa said as he brought out the ledger.
"A damn book?" Ahlmund asked. Unknowingly voicing out the thoughts of the Saxon men around him.
"Not just a 'damn book'. This is the only valuable thing Corvus had in his disposal. With this in our hands, he's nothing." Hansa explained. This was a huge win for the Saxons, he thought. Because this ledger is the only one of its kind. Countless stores of Horsa's spoils of war would've been lost to either the Camelotians or Romans if he hadn't thought of taking it back from Corvus' room.
"How did you know where he even stayed?" Eardwulf blurted out.
"I followed him. The drunken ramblings of a Saxon man are very hard to ignore. Once I found where he stayed, I waited for him to leave. It was around the time when he entered the bar did I order Ahlmund to lead you and the others to try and kill Corvus." Hansa answered in a matter-of-factly tone.
"And now that you have that book, what else do we need to do before we leave? That murder attempt did not go unnoticed. The next two days brought increased security in the city. If there was any better time to leave, it would be now." Ahlmund asked. To his lack of surprise, the Saxons behind him murmured in agreement. They were becoming anxious about the knowledge that they would have to spend more time in this place than originally planned.
Hansa meanwhile, looked at them with a calm and collected look. But his eyes shone with authority. Causing the rest of them to straighten up as they felt that what he was about to say was very important.
"You are right Ahlmund. But before that, let me tell you all the information we have gathered. Combined into a single report.
We accomplished our mission: find a weakness in the walls. Somewhere that is easy to infiltrate and take advantage of. From all of your efforts, here are two areas in the walls that I have marked as potential sites for our needs." Hansa then brought out a sketch of what looks to be his version of the city. It was crude and ill made compared to the finer work Archer had given to Regulus.
"This is unreliable, but it will do the job I made it for." Hansa briefly said as he placed it on the ground. The map had 2 circles that indicate certain places near the walls of the city.
"Now, Chelmsford is a city 3/4s surrounded by two Rivers. The River Can flows from the West to the South while the River Chelmer flows from the North of the city to the Southwest. It is with these rivers in mind that the enemy built their walls. They are using the rivers as an impassable line that amplifies the strength of the city defence. However, like all things, there are weaknesses in their defences. The first location I found is proof of that. It is a meadow that lies in between those Rivers. The citizens called it 'Meadowland'."
"But the land there is softened by the river. Making it hard for our siege weaponry to do anything. The enemy also built the walls in suitable high ground that would be hard for the men to overcome." Ahlmund countered. He knew that he wasn't exactly the smartest soldier ever, but he ain't stupid. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.
"Not until you consider that by the time the battle starts, winter would have properly set in. Making the ground solid and the river frozen for our men to forge through. That is one of the major reasons why Lord Hengist has not ordered the attack yet. For the advantage the Romans had were the rivers. Once that is taken care of, all that would be left are wooden walls and a peasant army who haven't fought a single battle. Much less witnessed one." Hansa explained before heading to his second point.
"The second point I found is near the Northeast gate. The width of the river Chelmer there is greater - thereby getting the army through that area is harder. But from what I gathered from the others," Hansa then looked towards the men behind Ahlmund, "there is a passageway leading to a secret bridge that unsanctioned hunting guilds and criminals use to get in and out of the city while the city gates are closed. We will use that not only as an escape route once our mission is done. But also as a means to get our men inside the walls and wreak havoc amongst the populace."
"Speaking of escape. Hansa, we've already finished the mission. Did we not? We found the weakpoints. We took the ledger. All before that demon Drecken arrived. What else do we have to do?" Eardwulf asked. Leading to the others to converse amongst themselves the uselessness of staying any longer than needed.
"I know that, Eardwulf. We'll do it tonight. An hour after midnight. When the guards are unaware and too tired to see what is going on.
But we cannot avoid Drecken. One way or another, we will have to speak with him. What that conversation will entail, I don't know. What matters now is getting home." Hansa answered as he wrapped his things up.
"But we will not go quietly." Hansa said as he rose from the ground. A strange glint in his eyes as his confused subordinates looked on.
"We will need to make a distraction that will divert the enemy's attention. once the plan is set in motion. Something very hard to ignore. Any ideas?" Hansa asked his team. After a few seconds, it was Ahlmund who broke the silence.
"...I think I have an idea."
—-
The barracks… hours later…
Archer had had an exhausting two days. He was tasked with leading the watchmen stationed at the walls. Meaning he would have to pick up the slack since the men under his command weren't exactly the best archers in the world. Day in and night out, he mercilessly eliminated everything and anything that constituted a flying object. A bird, if you will.
He also had the displeasure of teaching the watchmen how to "not fucking suck ass" when it came to archery. All due to the constant complaints from citizens, fellow soldiers, and most recently Mordred. They all complained that the watchmen were more likely to hit them rather than the birds.
"I guess that's why Percival made me the man for the job… He probably guessed that I would make them better as time went on." Archer mused as he looked on to see 50 men arranged into 5 columns standing in formation. All of them were listening to the reason why he was there.
"Alright! I've never been the nicest Knight in the Round Table, and I ain't changing my ways for you sorry sons of bitches." Mordred shouted. Causing Archer to look at her in amusement. Is this how training was like in Camelot?
"The 7th Reserve Platoon… When I looked at you all the day I first signed up as your instructor, I already knew what you all were. Farmers, hunters, masons, and all other shit in between. I'll be damned, my expectations were low … but holy shit. You lot are the WORST I've ever had to train." Mordred then walked in between the 3rd and 4th column. Glaring at the men who started to develop a cold sweat from the sheer presence of the Red Knight.
"You! Aridius, was it?" Mordred pointed at a 'random' trainee.
"Y-yes sir!" Aridius shouted with a panicked expression.
"Take out your sword and strike me down." Mordred challenged. Archer looked on, impressed with what the Red Knight just said. He figured out the plan his friend had in mind. But the question is: would Aridius get it as well?
"H-huh?" Aridius dumbly said. Nevertheless, he obeyed.
With the stance drilled into his head after his training in the barracks, he smoothly unsheathed his sword and unclasped his shield from his back. With a breath, he then charged at Mordred. Intending to stab the Knight rather than slash. Aridius then blinked in surprise at the quick yet smooth movement Mordred had done to avoid the attack. His instincts then kicked in. Aridius raised his shield towards his front and used his sword arm to support his defense.
BANG! Came Mordred's attack. Aridius felt his boots digging into the dirt. He was amazed at how far that kick pushed him back. His eyes wide at the long marks on the ground. But now's not the time to stand in awe. Aridius then roared fiercely as he renewed his onslaught. With every slash, Aridius felt confident. With every block, he felt brave. Because for some odd reason, he was gaining ground against THE Mordred of the Round! This was huge!
And apparently, so thought the others who trained with him. They formed a circle around the Red Knight and Aridius. Watching with great interest. With some of them cheering for Aridius. It looked like he was winning! Look at him go. Mordred of the Round could only move backwards as an answer to Aridius' strikes. Holy shit, he just bashed Sir Mordred with his shield!
"Get 'em Aridius!"
"Show 'em who's boss!"
"Spank 'em in the chest!"
Aridius meanwhile, was about to consider that last part before Mordred surprised him with a punch to the face. With a fist that had metal glove on it. Aridius staggered a few steps back. Trying to recover from the hit. He had a literal, bloody, broken nose. But it was fine. He got to show Sir Mordted that he and his fellow trainees weren't-
"'A bunch of sorry sons of bitches'. Glad to see I'm wrong." Mordred said as she clapped her hands for Aridius. "Right! Starting this day forward, Aridius will be your leader. He has earned the rank of Sargeant and will pick 5 of you to become Corporals."
"I-what?" Aridius said with surprise. He cringed at the sudden shouts of praise and yelped as he was hoisted up into the air by his comrades. They were shouting his name like he had done something amazing. Which he did. He fought Sir Mordred into a standstill. A draw, even.
Meanwhile, with Mordred…
"Nice work you did there." Archer said as the Red Knight approached him in a silent manner.
"Shut up. He earned that win." Mordred said as she stood beside Archer. Both of them were watching the recruits parade Aridius adound like he was their champion or something.
"It wouldn't be noticed by anyone else, but I know you were holding back. You gave him that win to galvanise the others." Archer said. Thereby sharing his observations concerning this whole event.
"It's hard to respect someone higher than you in rank unless you know they earned their titles. I just made it easy for Aridius to earn that respect." Mordred nonchalantly said. Archer looked at the Red Knight with renewed interest.
"What?" Mordred asked with suspicion.
"I remember you doing something like this with Levi. You gave him beer too." Archer said suggestively. But the tone of his voice flew over the Red Knight's head. For an idea sprung into her head.
"Speaking of beer…" Mordred then loudly banged her chestplate with her gloved fist. Causing the men of the 7th Reserve to stop and return to formation. With a few of them slightly shoving Aridius to the forefront of the formation with care so as to not offend the man. A sign that they acknowledged his new rank and therefore respect him as their leader.
"Right! Now that you lot are all done prancing around like idiots, I have one thing to say: all of you follow me to the bar, drinks on me! I've been dying for something strong, anyways." Mordred exclaimed.
"YEAHHHHH!" Exclaimed the men of the 7th Reserve. They then began marching to the city tavern. Joyously singing about how wasted they'll become soon.
"Good grief, Mordred could be such a softie sometimes." Archer muttered to himself.
"The fuck did you just say?" Mordred growled as she looked towards the bowman's eyes. Challenging him to say it again.
"N-nothing. I was just trying to tell you that I was hear to fetch you." Archer said as he raised his hands as if surrendering. Knowingly changing the process
"Huh? Is it another meeting?" Scowled Mordred as she crossed her arms.
"Yes." Archer briefly answered.
"Fucking finally! I had enough of having to spend time with Gawain." Mordred huffed as she walked towards the tavern. Where the soldiers of the 7th Reserve were heading to.
"Mordred, the direction of the church is-" Archer started but was interrupted by Mordred.
"I know, I know. But I'll be damned if I don't get a drink. Don't follow me and just head there yourself! I'll see you there!" And so, Mordred took a right and left Archer's sight.
Archer just stared for a few seconds before shrugging to himself. He then made his way to the church.
—-
"So then there we were, Archer and I. Right there in the middle of 10 bandits or some shit. I didn't know what the hell their deal was, and I didn't care then. We fought like hell against them. Eh, he did good then. But I'm clearly better than him…"
"...Archer's such a lady's man but he doesn't know it. Fucking playboy. There was this one time when he was cooking in the town hall and talked to these girls like he was flirting with them…"
"...His food is really good! Definitely way better than whatever potato shit you've done, Gawain…"
"...He's had my back since day one, so I can't not trust the guy. He's surprisingly dependable…"
"Son of a bitch! Archer, if you don't straighten up those watchmen's shots, I'm gonna tear you a new pisshole! They fucking suck ass!"
"Sir Gawain. Is there a problem?" Heard the Sun Knight as he looked towards a certain redhead bearing gold-like eyes.
"No, not at all. Sir Archer." Gawain replied calmly. Hiding the real emotions he's feeling deep inside. When he asked Mordred about anything that had to do with Sir Archer, he could not help but notice that Mordred couldn't stop talking about the man, be it negative or positive. And that Maybe (just Maybe), the redhead had made more than just a good impression on the Red Knight. But the question that remained in his head:
How? How did Archer do that? No one's ever done that.
"I was just… reminiscing on some old memories, you see." Gawain elaborated. Technically speaking, he was right. His memories of his conversations with Mordred were two days old.
"Oh? Anything nice?" Archer inquired as he took a seat beside him. They were at the same meeting table they had used two days ago. A table that was slowly filling up as time went on.
"It is… of the sort. I was just remembering the time I had met certain Knights of the Round." Gawain replied. Steering the conversation towards something familiar. Something both of them could give their inputs on.
"I see…" Archer briefly offered. Silently goading the Knight beside him to go on. Because with how this conversation was going, it felt like Gawain wanted to hear about something from him. But what?
"I was mostly remembering the time King Arthur had met Sir Mordred. For it was at that same moment in time that I encountered him for the first time." Gawain spoke. Unknowingly drawing in some prying ears who were curious about anything that had to do with Camelot's King.
"I wager that it was an interesting event." Archer offered. Not getting what the Sun Knight was plotting still.
"It was. But not as captivating as the story of you two. From what Sir Mordred is telling me these past two days, it appears that you have somehow placed yourself within his good graces. A very rare feat since the only notable person to ever accomplish that is the King himself." Gawain said. Subtly adding an undertone to his voice that Archer found not quite pleasing to his ears.
"Please, surely that is not true. I am but one of Sir Mordred's comrades. Our relationship is nothing but cordial." Archer said coolly. Knowingly diminishing himself so that he wouldn't have to experience the pain that was being in the spotlight.
"I find that hard to believe." Gawain insisted. His thoughts return to Mordred's tales regarding Archer.
"Well… let us agree to disagree then. Though I do intend to continue this in the future. But, now is not the time for such a conversation." Archer said in an attempt to move the conversation in a different direction.. He did NOT want to be the subject of scrutiny of any kind. Much less talk about whatever Gawain wants to know.
"...Alright then. Let's set this aside for now and focus on other matters at hand." Gawain acquiesced. He didn't wanna be too pushy with the redhead. But he did want to know more about the man. So he just let it go. For now.
"I'm here! What'd I miss?" Mordred shouted as she slammed the door to the room. She almost tripped a bit on the cracks that came from Percival's spear.
"We haven't started yet, Mordred." Archer replied as he watched the Red Knight gracelessly slump onto the seat beside him. Her armour stunk of beer and alcohol. Like she got hit by a mug full of the stuff and didn't bother to clean up.
"Oh okay. Now, what's it going to be this time?" Mordred asked as she propped her arms on the table. She was talking about the meeting.
"We will be discussing the removal of Lord Regulus' orders. We've found no trace of the Saxons during these past two weeks and the people are increasing their complaints to the point that it is hard to ignore." Gawain replied. He remembered that one time the people voiced their fears for the laws and felt sympathy for them. It was a good thing that it will all end once this meeting is over.
"We are just waiting for Lord Regulus." Continued Gawain, "Once he arrives, we-"
"MURDER! MURDER IN THE CAPITAL! KING ARTHUR DEAD IN THE IMPERATRIX'S PALACE! CAMELOT DECLARES WAR AGAINST LONDINIUM!"
"What!" Shouted the Camelotians in the room. All of them rising up to see where that news came from. It came from a soldier wearing the garbs of a recruit. It was Aridius.
"Aridius! What the hell did you just say?!" Mordred shouted. Causing the man to shiver in fear before repeating what he said.
"King Arthur was found dead in his room. The weapon used to kill him belonged to Imperatrix Nero. The news came just now from a messenger bird. Here! Look at it." Aridius then jogged towards the Red Knight and then gave the letter. It was sealed with a black seal that had no imprints on it. Mordred didn't take long to read its contents before giving it to Gawain.
"This can't be… The King cannot be…" Gawain then passed it onto Archer. Whose eyes are sharp and focused. Something isn't right…
"We cannot allow the news to spread. Not until we verify its origin." Archer said as he read the contents. It was a terribly written dispatch. Crude and barely legible. No way would this be an official letter with how bad it is.
"I think that's the least of our problems, Archer." Mordred said as she turned around to see the Roman commanders argue with their Camelotian counterparts. Some of them were drawing their swords and equipping their shields. Like an all out brawl was about to happen.
"Curse my luck…" Archer bemoaned before he watched Gawain diffuse the situation.