--- Roric

The mercenaries who camped along the walls of Sinen were ordered to build shelters and wooden cabins to fight back the cold. It was obvious that they would be staying for a long time and Roric felt honestly relieved when he heard that the trip had finally reached its end, despite hearing that the winter was much harsher in the northern region.

He had spotted the commander coming back from the castle in the early afternoon. Since then, he and his lieutenants had spent most of their time shut inside the main pavilion, probably discussing and organizing their defenses. The first instructions, that same evening, were to assemble scouting teams and ride through the woodlands up to the border with Ekhar, looking for any sign of enemy movement. In an extreme effort to increase the available men, Ugrin suddenly decided to make Frauli and Demios fully fledged soldiers, reducing the recruits to just three. The older boys were really happy about the captain's choice, but it was pretty clear that he didn't deem them ready for the frontlines and they still had to prove themselves.

Yet, as they cheered, Roric was reminded of Frauli's words a couple of days before.

We won't be around to guard your back forever, kid.

***

The next morning, before lunch, Lowan's sister visited the camp.

A woman in her early fifties, countess Leanna walked through the amazed soldiers in a dignified way, her head covered by a red silken veil, while being escorted by several of her own men. The Lady of Sinen took a couple of hours wandering left and right, stopping every now and then for a quick chat with some random lucky mercenary, while her brother followed her around like a guard dog.

Now that he could see Leanna with his own eyes, Roric had to admit that there was definitely something wrong with her attitude. At some point he overheard some of her words, praising the defenders of her castle, and he couldn't help but think that they didn't seem honest in the slightest. Nobody dared to look upset however, because even if someone had noticed it Lowan's presence was more than sufficient to keep their mouths shut.

When Leanna's piercing gaze stopped on him, the little orphan kept cutting the wood he had been ordered to prepare for the town's carpenters. He sincerely hoped to avoid any unnecessary attention, yet the woman came towards him with a very excited look, like a kid who had just found a new toy to play with. A shiver ran through Roric's spine, as he braced for the impact.

"What do we have here, my dear brother?" asked the countess, with a sugary voice. "A one-night stand gone too far?"

"Roric is just a recruit, my Lady," answered Lowan, seemingly a bit embarrassed. "He is the youngest, here in the company."

"Oh, is that so?" went on the woman, still analyzing the child in a disturbing way. "How old are you, my dear? A mercenary band is not the place for a small kid like you, don't you know?"

Her expectant attitude instantly got on Roric's nerves. Just a couple of months before, he would have thought her to be nothing more than a weirdly nice lady, but now that he knew the commander's story he was well aware of how dangerous she could be. After all, as Tolwin had told him, keeping her in check was hard even for her brother.

She is a noble. A noble! I'd better show that I respect her, or the commander will get mad.

So, he just bowed and answered without looking away from the ground.

"I... I am ten, my Lady," he babbled. "I chose to join these men on my own."

Leanna burst into laughter. "Oh, Lowan! Another one of the freaks you love to collect on your voyages. I have to admit, I'm impressed by your dedication in rallying all these wretches from around the world."

What the... Did she make all this scene just to anger him?

"The ones you call wretches," stated the man, sharply. "Are all here to protect your valuable castle. Try not to forget it."

The countess however strolled away, her attention already captured by someone else, leaving him there with his noticeable anger. Lowan huffed, patting Roric's shoulder, and marched behind her towards the other end of the camp.

What a menacing person.

The story didn't do justice to her. She was way creepier than what Tolwin had said.

***

During the next two weeks, the scouts provided some good information about the enemy movements. The Ekhar clans, like it was believed, didn't seem ready for a war yet and were clearly holding back any attack for the following spring. Word quickly spread about a private meeting, in which the commander of Sinen's army advanced the idea of a preemptive strike, but commander Lowan stubbornly refused saying that once across the river, their men would surely be at a disadvantage and it was better to wait and get the region prepared for the fight instead. That led to a lively dispute right in the center of the camp, after which the men sent by the countess returned to their Lady with their tails between their legs.

Meanwhile, the training of the few recruits became even harder. Roric only had Meran or Rata as his sparring partners, and both of them were very harsh opponents for him. The son of Ekhar had increased his finesse to the point that laying a finger on him was starting to get impossible, and the Guhrien boy... Well, he was clearly dissatisfied with his non-fighting status and took every chance to dump all his rage on poor Roric.

Despite all the effort, the child was still the weakest and slowest among them, but he became so focused on the training that one night he came to a realization.

During the fights he had always thought that the others were moving slower, to give him a small chance to show his skill, without even considering the possibility that he was the one with exceptional reflexes. He suddenly became able to spot the trajectory of Meran's fast swings, dodging a couple of them at the very last moment. In a real battle he would have died anyway, being to slow to make use of that gift, yet he was inspired to push his training even further. After all, becoming a harder target for that arrogant bully was a stimulating thought.

As he attended to his regular duties, Roric began to pay attention to the smallest details, realizing that he could distinguish unnoticeable movements in water and fire. It wasn't much, but it made him feel a little less miserable.

The child also spent a good part of that autumn hunting with Rata. Both of them being kind of loners, they shared a certain degree of chemistry and the quiet boy from Ekhar started showing some glimpses of friendship towards him. When Roric took down his first wild hog, for example, his companion even went as far as complimenting him with a nice shot, kid. Maybe it wasn't life-changing, but knowing that guy it must have meant something for sure.

Frauli and Demios, on the other hand, only dropped by when they weren't training for their new roles. The blonde bearded mercenary, due to his strong build, had joined one of the squads that fought in a line with heavy shields. Their practice was noisy, but the way they moved like a single man when captain Wals ordered them around was incredible. Each day he rode back and forth for hours, with his green helmet plume dancing in the wind, as his men turned and switched their formation to face him with unsuspected speed and efficiency. That man, Roric was told, was responsible for the company's youngest infantry members and taught them how they were supposed to act together.

Demios, who knew how, had managed to earn some respect and sympathy between the Red Lances and was training with them for mounted combat in order to join the light cavalry. He often described the sensation of riding with a mixture of pride and vanity, and overall seemed very satisfied with his choice despite saying that he also wanted to be an officer one day. Even his friend Frauli, with all his frequent suggestions about a supposedly obscene relationship with the horse he loved so much, couldn't avoid showing that he was happy for him.

The company went on to face the winter with nothing exciting happening. Lowan's predictions about their opponents were more than right and nobody dared to cross the Rien from the North since they started guarding its fords. As spring got nearer, more reinforcements sent by the allies of Lady Leanna and the old friends of the commander came to Sinen, bringing the army of the defenders to a total of more than three thousand men. The defenses, so weak and unorganized on the day of their arrival, were finally ready to face the enemy assault.

It was on the first days of March that Ekhar began moving. Small, fast groups of warriors, in their usual fashion, went across the river night after night and spread out throughout the region, in order to keep their numbers as hidden as possible and then converged on their targets all together. The first victim of the attacks was the village of Mublas, that lay many miles North-East of the fortress.

Nonetheless, the invaders found wooden palisades, watch towers and dug trenches full of spiky poles, guarded by experienced republican archers who were just waiting to give them a warm welcome. After a mere week of humbling losses Ekhar retreated, but it was as clear as the sky that the vengeful clans were just warming up and a full scale assault was a matter of time.

Roric managed to keep himself informed on what was happening by hearing conversations between the soldiers or by asking Tolwin, who was sometimes forced to leave the camp and help with the wounded in the nearby settlements. Sadly, the child still had to focus on his training and going with him was out of the question, no matter how much he desired it. He had finally become strong enough to lift and swing an iron sword, with great difficulty and effort, and the intensive practice put an extreme strain on his body. Yet, he endured.

Ugrin, as always, wasn't satisfied. He had refused to force Rata and Meran to use wooden weapons in the sparring just in order to let Roric join them and had told him to simply train more. The blades however were still heavier than he could bear, so even a few minutes of exercises were enough to drain every drop of the kid's stamina. The instructor obviously complained a lot about it.

***

"Get up, you slacker!" yelled Ugrin. "You'd be dead a hundred times if Meran was seriously trying to kill you."

Roric had been knocked down countless times, that day. He was starting to think that he wasn't completely cut for that kind of life.

How long will it take? Why do I have to be this weak?

Tolwin and his friends had reassured him in the past, saying that he would have gotten stronger while growing up, but the child felt the pressure rising with every day. He was so eager to reach the same level as the others that he put all he had into the training without thinking about anything else, going as far as reducing his time helping the priest in order to achieve some sort of result. Still, he was always forced to come to terms with the limits of his young age. Ugrin, in his usual bursts of rage, had let him know that he had never met a worse recruit than him. While he knew that it was the instructor's way of encouraging him, Roric ended up spending almost every night sleepless, tormented by his own inferiority.

Meran stepped forward, to kick him before he could get up, but the little orphan was used to his timing and rolled away. The other boy huffed and gave him his back.

"Ugrin is right. If you don't want to show some spine you'd better just go away."

Roric was consumed by frustration and anger, and nearing the limit of what he could take. Was there really a reason not to give up at that point?

"I'm sick of this!" he thundered. "Do you think that I can wake up tomorrow and kick ass like Frauli or Demios! I'm one feet shorter than you, dammit!"

Shut up, you idiot!

Those words had come out almost on their own, or so the child wanted to believe. Meran glanced at him, apparently startled by his sudden reaction.

"I've been nothing but a dead weight," cried Roric, punching the ground. "I asked for this, and joined because I wanted to get stronger. But there is no way I can match the others. Not when they started way before me. It's stupid. It's cruel."

Ugrin frowned, kneeling beside him in a less menacing way than usual. Nonetheless, his tone was severe enough.

"In a battle, you win or you die," he said. "Meran is stronger, and you'll never beat him if you don't try with all you have. Stop making up excuses, Roric, and get desperate. It's doable."

"More desperate than this?" whined the kid. "I can see how he moves. I can keep up with the others as well. If only I wasn't... So little and slow I could do it. If only I-"

"You'd just be a bigger, faster idiot!" yelled the captain. "If you know where's your limit, work harder and overcome it. That's the whole point of this challenge, you dumbass."

Wait... The whole point was that?

"Captain," stepped in Rata. "He may be too young. Can't match our level. Will there be new recruits?"

Ugrin pulled himself together, and shook his head: "Lowan said we'll stay here for a long time. Soon, we'll face the enemy and my expertise will be required somewhere else. We can't afford training more kids right now, and I don't think this brat deserves any special treatment anyway. If he can't make it on his own, he isn't fit for fighting with us."

Roric felt his heart sinking.

This is unfair. The others had... More time. More help. More everything.

"At this point," chuckled Meran. "We don't need you anymore, you weakling. Start looking for another place to-"

"That's not for you to decide, jester," grumbled the instructor, slapping the boy on his nape. "Enough for now. Roric, I will give you a couple of months to catch up, but nothing else. If you really believe in what you just said, come back and show me that I was wrong. It's that simple."

They all turned away, and began walking back to the camp. Before leaving, Rata looked back, looking strangely sad. Meanwhile, the child clenched his fists and cried.

I'll show them. Oh, I'll show them for sure!