Book 4, Chapter 15: A Lesson in Weapons Inspection
The last time I toured the troops, their practice, it was with Carlisele. I still needed to explain to the man what he would be acquiring along with the duchy. A very sophisticated, for this technology level, weapons production facility. Two weapon smithies, streamlined with factory concepts, putting out sarissa quickly and two armor smithies putting out full plate suits as fast as they were able.
For me, it was quaint, ancient history. But here, these were the latest in military tech and, I hoped against hope, they would prove so on the battlefield. The armor, at least, skipped several centuries of technological sophistication back where I came from, but the weaponry, not so much.
Sarissa were just a step ahead of pikes, crossbows were developed early on in warfare, though stirrups and lances only made their debut with heavier armor. In a sense, it was all coming together. And a shame I’d have to leave it all behind.
If only I could work out a deal with Hafthon. Leaving this to Carlisele was like handing a flat earther an education. ‘Here you go! Try not to mess it up.’
The snow crunched beneath my feet as I walked down the hill toward the phalanx, mid-training. They were marching in formation, sarissa held slightly forward, with the first three rows dipping even more. A volley of arrows launched from a group of archers a hundred or so yards in front of them, blunted, training ammunition, and fell into their ranks. Plunking sounds when the missiles collided with the upright shafts, but most of them missed their mark.
Gun was overseeing their training and bowed when I reached him, saying, “Your Highness, a pleasure.”
“Defensive training today?”
He smiled, “Defensive for the phalanx, target practice for the archers.”
“Ah. How does it go for the phalanx?”
“It’s different than with the shorter pikes. These are higher, so they deflect more arrows, but the troops have smaller shields, which means a few get through to their helmets and armor. But those don’t cause too many problems until the archers are very close.”
“Oh?”
As we talked, a volley came down on the phalanx. As Gun said, many arrows were deflected by the sarissa, falling away uselessly to the ground or bouncing off the helmets of soldiers, making me almost laugh at the silliness. My mind immediately translated that to science: the sarissa had more mass and absorbed the arrow’s force easily.
Still, a few soldiers got directly hit, shrugged it off and kept walking.
“See?” Gun said, “It’s bothersome, but not all that deadly.”
“Well, these are blunted arrows.”
“Even in real combat, volleys do little but annoy us. If you have enough arrows, that’s actually the main purpose of the archers, to cause confusion in the enemy. To do real harm, archers need direct fire. It’s the cavalry’s job to see that they never get close enough.”
“That makes sense.”
Another volley dropped into them. One of the sarissa fell as a soldier screamed. In the formation, I couldn’t see what happened, only the long staff hitting the ground, bouncing up, then laying still.
“Halt practice!” shouted Gun and jogged over. In a few moments, he was standing over a fallen soldier, four lines deep from the front, holding his face. I couldn’t hear what was said, but Gun smacked him on the side of the head – an injured man! – and that’s when I realized he wasn’t wearing a helmet. Then, the major dragged him to his feet and out of the formation, yelling, “Nurse Echo!”
A man, wearing loose, grey clothing, ran over. Echo, the other nurse with healing magic. First time I’d seen him. They put the soldier on the ground, on his back, and adjusted something on his face that I couldn’t quite see.
Gun, shaking his head, walked back over to me. “The idiot didn’t see fit to bring his helmet today. One of the new recruits.”
“New recruits?”
“After the commoners heard about you offering nobility to soldiers, we’ve had our ranks swell. Some of them perform acceptably, but few have experience, and this is one of the duller ones. Arrow to the eye.”
“Damn. That sounds awful.”
“Yes, even blunted they’re dangerous. A lucky shot is all, hit him straight in the eye and popped it right out.”
Horrified, I looked over. The soldier’s back was arched, his face serene, almost like he was having sex, Echo’s hands gently against his head. I quickly looked away out of shame and guilt, for I knew that feeling. The healer’s heroin, intense pleasure as the magic courses through your cells, knitting them together. It made me wonder, so I asked, “Gun, do people ever, do they get injured on purpose?”
“That’d be foolish, my lady.”
“Have you felt the healing magic?” Trust me, I thought, guiltily, you’d want to feel it again if you had.
He looked at the ground, kicked a stone, “Of course.”
I felt dumb. “Yeah, sorry, your position in the army.”
“Men try. Yes, sometimes they try. I’ll have to watch this one after. I’m sure it’s his first time being healed, you should see his broken teeth. Probably kicked in the face by a mule or beaten or something. He might try again. But the healer’s not always around or capable of dealing with all injuries. And if the healer catches on, sees the same man time and time again, well, they’re either getting the opposite or not getting healed.”
“What do you mean, the opposite?”
“My lady, what can cause pleasure,” his eyes briefly dropped down below my neck to my chest, then back up, “can cause suffering.”
It took a while for me to take my eyes off Gun’s face, back to the soldier lying on the ground, content. The implications were monstrous. Reese’s magic could be used for torture? The thought never occurred to me that a healer would do such a thing. I couldn’t imagine Reese being such a person, she was too dedicated to her job, wearing herself out all the time, only to make men whole again.
It made me wonder about Bechalle’s healer, though. She fled this castle very quickly after his death.
“One thing my father said to me, something I can’t forget, is to stay away from them. The mage-healers. Never marry one, don’t have relationships with them.”
“Oh?”
“Yes,” he took me by the arm, leading me away, “I met such a widower once. Hollow look in his eyes, even while drinking. I don’t think he ever left that pub.”
“Oh. Wow.” The more I thought about that, the worse it became. “But the head nurse, Reese, she seems so nice.”
“I’m sure.”
“Some nobles must-”
“Oh, yes. Quickest way to lose an earldom.”
I had no response.
“The cavalry, my lady,” Gun held out his arm, pointing across the field, “General Morrentz is training his troops with their new, ah, pikes. Riding pikes.”
“Lances.”
“Lances, thank you.”
“Even without stirrups? The saddle makers, one more thing I have to deal with soon.”
“He insisted. Toughen them up, he said.”
“Huh. Hey, I have a question.”
“I hope I have an answer for you.”
“Something the Seclazrin archbishop said has been bothering me. No one’s brought it up, though. In our war councils, I mean.”
“Did he threaten you, my lady?”
“Oh, plenty of times, but that’s not what I’m talking about. He said their faith would stop our mages. Or something like that.” My memory was actually a little fuzzy about that afternoon, since I nearly turned into a raging tornado of energy. “Do you know anything about that?”
“I’ve seen it done by them, but never fought against them before. When the priests come we don’t have to fear mages as much. No fire from the sky to kill us all. At least, unless you can eliminate the priests. Then the mages unleash their power and hopefully they’re on your side.”
“Why don’t we always use priests, then?”
“You’d have to ask the Seclazrin church for that. The Barclays field them when attacked, though.”
“And here I am, making enemies of all the churches. I’m an idiot. I wonder how many other forms of magic there are.”
“Magic? They call it faith.”
“Right, yes. Gun, thank you for, uhm, letting me observe your practice. I’ll let you get back to it.”
He bowed, “Ma’am,” and headed back to his troops, shouting for the new soldier to get off the ground and return to formation.
Gun wasn’t sullen, but he was more formal than usual. That was good, perhaps he got the message from last time. I looked back at him once more, standing there, strong and handsome, directing his troops, before heading across the cold ground, back to the cold castle.
Good. Yeah.
I shook my head, wondering what other horrors this world had to teach me.
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