Capítulo 7: Chapter 7
Day 3 of the 12th month.
Dawn has come to the fortress of Perma, though the sun hasn't come out yet, the darkness is slowly fading giving way to light, which is accompanied by slight fog in the gloomy horizon.
Sir. Grenn arrived on the battlements above the main gate, which is also a circular bastion. The fortress has 5 bastions, the biggest is the main gate on the north side, while the other four are at the corner making a square.
He was awake all night going around making sure necessary personnels are on standby and alert.
After not hearing anything from his patrols, he was sure something was out there.
In response he released several carrier pigeons and sent a couple of riders to Kaznadr to the west, and to the nearest lords from the south, mainly a barony and an earldom, expecting reinforcement.
Grenn anticipates a sufficient force to siege their fortifications, thus he suspects that his men of less than 2 thousand might be inadequate.
Though he's confident that they'll be able to hold out for at most a couple of days to a week if somehow his men found the courage in-themselves to fight fiercely, since it is human nature to give up when facing certain loss.
….
An hour has passed, the fog from earlier has now dissipated, instead is replaced by dark thick clouds blocking the sun. Nevertheless, sir Grenn now has a good view of the enemy.
"Is that they're whole army?" A soldier next to Grenn wearing an open-faced bascinet helmet, pauldron and chestplate with dark-brown gameson and chausses, spoke.
Grenn turned to look at the soldier, this person was his personal guard who just blurted out exactly what's in his mind.
'Maybe there's more?' Grenn thought doubtfully.
He turned to look back at the enemy who are now busy setting their formation.
Based on the intelligence their people had gathered during Norstedt's previous campaigns, the enemy military would usually field an army of around 20 to 30 thousand, and it is said that they're divided into 4 to 6 divisions, meaning a division is around 5 thousand men.
'Around just one division?'
Several assumptions came to mind, one is that another division is lurking around and is about to show themselves. Another guess is that they are confident that they'll be able to take the fortress on their own.
For now he is leaning, probably hoping more to the latter idea, considering that currently there is no clear benefit in hiding against a smaller defending army.
Also, thinking that it might work in their favour if it did so..
….
In an expansive oak woodland, a fatally wounded Bosilian soldier clad in rough brown brigandine armour over a mail, wearing a conical shaped nasal helmet, leaned his backside to a thick tree trunk before finally sliding down to sit on the ground.
The soldier with a thick dirty-blonde beard has cuts, and bruises, all over his body and is now clutching a gunshot wound on his right torso with his left hand.
Using his right hand, the Bosilian soldier grabbed the axe next to him, then glanced at his round shield a few metres away from him for a second before finally staring fiercely back at a number of figures in front of him.
"Come!" The dying soldier bellowed.
In spite of that, his adversaries did not launch any more assault and instead stood still waiting.
After coughing up blood several times, the soldier arms falls limp, yet still glaring at his enemies with lifeless but determined eyes.
….
"Hahaha!"
"What a tough bastard." As Unker laughed loudly with a sense of relief, he later dropped his hammer, and collapsed on the ground.
The burly man had suffered a string of non-fatal cuts.
Whilst, Lou the long-haired man with the slightly arched back dropped to his knees silently groaning in pain, and tightly clenching his broken left elbow.
It didn't take long before a man with a long flintlock rifle strapped on his back presented himself and walked down a small hill. After a couple of seconds two others emerged from the same position with several rifles in hand.
While on his way towards the deceased bosilian knight, Adam spotted their supposed captain who was nowhere to be found during the whole show.
Isak appeared from a thicket 15 metres away on top of his horse sluggishly moving towards the dead knight coming in an opposite direction from Adam.
They continued moving until they finally met at the tree where the corpse of the Bosiliain knight is.
Isak brought his mount to a stop then gave his injured men an unconcerned look before returning his attention to the man with well-kept short dark-brown hair and impenetrable flat countenance.
Isak tilted his head looking lazily at the scene in front of him while Adam stood in front of the dead Bosilian knight inspecting the body of its wounds, he fired several shots at this person but only landed 2.
'Another up-coming monster.' Isak thought, looking at their team's marksman who is going through his handy work, re-examining it.
"If that guy resolved himself to end one of them from the start, one or even both of them could have died." Isak lightly stated yet still with the look of indifference as if it doesn't involve him at all.
"…." Adam had no response, and continued on.
No one objected when he excluded himself from the fight, being that no one expected to face a full-knight being sent as a messenger. He remained at a distance observing the scene, and even after the team discovered the full extent of their enemy's capacity, he stayed.
Initially during the engagement, the knight pressed on trying to escape, even leaving his team to be annihilated, only taking the skirmish seriously when realising that he had to fight his way through.
By then he was already enduring a gunshot wound busting his knee. Still he was able to repel and counter a chain of attacks, yet at certain crucial instances Adam prevented Unker and Lou from receiving fatal attacks, and even delivered a fatal shot.
Isak is certainly the boss, but it is mostly Adam, the marksman who tows the team around. He had successfully predicted the messengers route then had their unit wait for them in an advantageous location ready to strike.
Adam pointed at a mark on the dead soldier's cheek.
"The mark of the Cussars."
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