Book 1: Ch 13

We arrived at the designated camp which was a recently harvested farmland that looked to be planting wheat and barley. The three somehow managed to ask the owners a permission to use their farmland for a night. He was middle aged man living with his wife and kid and they offered their barn for the horses to sleep in, for a price of course. Hearing this, I took it up to the boss and she agreed, coughing up about four silver coins for the rent.

The wagons were arranged in a circle to serve as a makeshift wall for the tents that was also set up in a circle, thus making the camp look like two concentric circles with the main fire in the center.

The three of us, along with the help of Cyril, was setting up our canvass tents when our three scouts arrived from their duty. Seeing us working, they tried to help in the setting up but we firmly declined, telling them that they should tell us about what happened on their end instead.

With that, the three sat down and recounted what happened on their day which mostly consisted only with walking slowly in the forest around the road and looking for any tracks suggesting anyone hiding on the roadside. They didn't have much else to do so Sydell thought that they should practice the maneuvers we taught them.

We then finished and sat on a circle outside our tents as we waited for the dinner to cook. We told them what happened on our end which I consider to be just as uneventful as theirs and much more boring as trees went by slower than walking speed and one person would run out of anything to talk about after a few hours.

“What about you Cyril? Did you find out anything new?” Ron asked as our dinner was brought to us.

The food given was a pot of stew and I noticed that it was a tad smaller than what was given on the other groups. It is human nature to group together based on similarities or roles, and like in this caravan, there are two main groups; the drivers and the guards. We weren’t part of any since we are outsiders, thus we get treated less. It didn’t bother us much as long as they will keep to themselves and us to ours.

Of course, we couldn’t count on that so, we have already set up a nightly watch to deter anyone trying to get smart and try to steal some of our stuff. If they do, that would earn them a buttplate to the side of the head and maybe even a dose of high-speed lead poisoning.

“The others didn’t talk to me much but they did talk to each other in my presence. They think of me as insignificant, which is exactly how you thought would happen.” Cyril said nodding at us in respect, “From what I heard; the reason The Lady Marshall came along is a proof of the Lord Marshall’s commitment to Turin’s defense, this leads us to her bodyguard, Lady Malon. They say that there is no one else the Lord Marshall trusts in protecting her daughter more than her and that she is very capable.” he said.

“More capable than your brother?” I asked playfully.

“No, of course not. I bet he’d be able to take on both Ilya and Notus while he’s at it.”

“Hey!” Ilya yelled in mock outrage, we all chuckled.

“Good job, Cyril. I might be wrong, but I think we just found your knack. Keep doing what you're doing since we don't know what else might turn up.” I said and patted his shoulder. Cyril gave thanks with big smile and nodded.

“Alright, let’s all go to sleep. We got a big day tomorrow.” I declared as I went to my tent and crashed in my sleeping bag, with the comfort of sleep falling over me just as I closed my eyes.

The next morning, I was woken up by the camp’s morning ritual of preparing for the road. Horses whined and people walked to and fro as they went about their preparations. The food served was thin soup and a pretty stale bread and we set out just as we could barely see the road.

The plan was to take the rest of the twenty-five mile journey in a single day since spending another day outside the wall of Turin might would risk the capture of our cargo. On the other side of that coin, we could get ourselves caught out in the open with teams of tired horses with an army in pursuit. We’ll hope it doesn’t come to that.

The caravan trundled on, and with it rose a mixture of emotions. Somehow, deep down inside my being, all buried under that fear and apprehension, I found myself looking forward for what is to come. I look forward to stand beside my friends and face our enemies, stop them, kill them. It’s weird. Now I could see why veterans find it hard to share the horrors of the wars they’ve fought to someone who didn’t share the same experience. Because, deep down, even with the horrors and devastation brought by war, there are some things people get to like about it, and most people just don't understand.

Now, I think I kind of understand what my old sawdog uncle who served in the army for twenty years babbled on while we sat back at our grandfather’s porch. Funny how it took a few years and a trip to another world just to understand an inkling of what he said.

I head the dry snap of a twig in the distance and I immediately took a knee while I thrust a balled fist up in the air. I was the lead scout for today since there is a bigger chance of us encountering the enemy. And if we do, we would have to act as the main force to try to breach through any blockade between us and the town.

In the corner of my eye, I could see Ron slowly creep up behind a tree and look through the scope. He scanned the surrounding for a while and came up with ‘all clear’ signal. We then crept on ever slower forward.

The caravan is about a mile behind us, traveling at a measly pace of man’s stroll. We left Nick there as The Lady’s personal bodyguard along with Cyril whose orders are to keep close with their wagon while trying his best to gather intelligence, eavesdropping on casual conversations and gossip.

We now have about five miles left to travel to get to Turin, which means that we now reached closer and closer to the place of battle.

Half a mile later, we came upon a figure mounted atop something resembling a horse. His head was swiveling from side to side, as if looking for something. He was a hundred fifty yards away when we spotted him, and both me and Ron crept closer to see what was up.

“This guy don’t look like a knight.” Ron sent through the radio. He about fifty yards to the left of me and is currently looking through his rifle’s scope. His camo pattern made him blend in his surroundings well and I would expect myself of doing the same. “Just one guy.”

“Can you take it?” I asked. The guy was in the middle of the road and it would be very easy for him to detect the incoming caravan.

“I’m going to take the horse first, then the guy.” Ron said. I could take the shot myself but rifle unfortunately didn’t have a barrel threading installed on it which would allow the weapon to have a suppressor installed. Ron had it in his own though, which is good.

About a couple of seconds later, the horse fell without a sound as if its string have just been cut, its legs folding under it and the rider yelled in surprise as his horse fell under him which was then cut by another distant snapping sound. The sound came from Ron’s rifle as the suppressor could only muffle the rifle’s report, but not the bullet's snap as it traveled at speeds faster than sound.

“All clear.” he said and I waived for Notus to follow me and we crept in a forward position in case someone else had heard the shot and come to investigate. No one did and we continued on our job of screening the forest for any hostiles.

Later, I estimated that we only had a little bit over an hour of daylight left just as we are about a mile away from Turin and by that time, we managed to take out about three more horsemen posted along the road we were traveling. From the dip we hid the carts, the caravan must travel about half a mile winding forest road while the other half would be an open ground. Partially grown with weeds, what used to be a lush farmland planted with acres of grain is now a burnt black field to deny the besiegers of the food supply.

We were letting the horses rest for a bit as we planned our approach. “We should drive the caravan to its best speed, it is only a mile anyway. The faster we could cross that deathland, the better.” The head of the guards suggested, he was a grizzled old man, probably a veteran of his work, he wore a chainmail shirt that reach far down to his knees, under it is what looked to be a thick padded tunic designed to fit under the chainmail to provide the needed padding. On his shoulder hung a Mosin and I could see in his belt hung a bayonet for the rifle.

“NO!” The head of the drivers hissed, “What happens if we happen to lame one of the horses carrying the cargo? Will you carry it? We’ve already pushed the horses hard all day, doing it at this critical moment could spell disaster.” he looked to be a man half the guard’s age, he was wearing the typical tunic and trousers but in his belt hung a bunch of tools that looked to be designed for the care of the horses.

The two continued to bicker against each other and as I gave a glance to Boss. We were standing in a circle with the five of us while Nick was about twenty paces away, scanning the surrounding. She looked to be in deep thought only to come out of it as the female bodyguard whispered on her ears.

“I’ve decided,” The Lady Marshall declared, her voice low. It carried the distinct authority only reserved for the ones accustomed to it. At the mention of this, the two men bickering immediately shut up and listened. “A mile of road lies between us and the safety of the town. We will only take the essentials with us and use the cover of the forest to use the best safe speed the horses would allow. But when we do reach the clearing around the town, we would have to push the horses to their limits forget the threat to their lives or the carts. If one dies of exhaustion or a cart breaks an axle, the caravan will move on, we will not stop.” she then looked at me. “Mr. Adrian, I trust your men that they would be able to screen our path clean of enemies? If they do manage to do it well resulting to all of our cargo reaching the town, I will make sure that my father will know every detail of it and that he would look at you and your men very favorably.” she said.

I smiled, “you got it. But we would have to borrow the riding horses you have. We have about two people able to ride horseback and being on a horse would quicken their response times, more importantly, not tire them out unnecessarily.” I said.

She nodded, “Fine, I’ll let you borrow two of our outrider’s horses. Make sure to bring them back.”

“Of course.”

Setting out, I knew this would be the longest mile long trek I’ll ever experience. Mounted atop one of the caravan’s horses, Ron and I kept a two hundred yard distance from the caravan and about a hundred from the front. I could barely see the figures of Sydell, Notus and Ilya as they moved around in the forest floor, scanning, covering and moving.

The looked to have taken our lessons at heart and I could feel my heart warming up to that. I would feel happy if it wouldn’t for the fact that some of them, or even all of them may not be able to see the next day.

I could see it now, the reason why Ron did all of this. He knew I was one of the people who couldn't just stand there and do nothing when I had the ability to do something. And in this world, he knew it could get me killed.

He was always beside me whenever I would rush towards disaster ridden areas, with my truck full of food, he would follow with his own. He would comfort sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, as I do my best to patch up their loved ones behind curtains and tents.

I looked to my right and saw the same person who was always by my side. He was also mounted on our borrowed horse and was holding his rifle with the barrel pointed up the sky, on one hand and the horse’s reigns on the other. “Hey Ron.” I called.

“What? Trouble?”

“Thank you.” I said.

“For what?”

“For everything.”

That took him away from scanning the horizon and looked at me, “You’re not planning to fucking die are you?”

“No, of course not.” I said, shaking my head.

“Good. Now get your head off your ass and keep it on a swivel. What you're fucking doing could people killed.” he said and went back to scanning the forest.

Yeah, I guess I should. I thought to myself as I went back to doing the same. The height advantage being on horseback gave a bit of advantage and we could see a little further than the people on the ground, and I could only see forest greens among a background of forest greens.

A shot then rang out in front, then another, and another. It then rose to a staccato of shots as the three would time their reloads right to have at least one rifle online while the other two are out reloading.

“Sydell. Report!” I yelled through the radio just as the firing had subsided.

“Mounted scouts, I think they saw the column and came closer to see it. They didn’t see us and we shot when they tried turning back. One escaped, wounded. I’m sorry.” he said.

“Shit” I muttered, that would complicate things. As we still have about a two thirds of a mile left. “Fall back and rejoin the column. Make sure to reload you magazines and clips.”

I sighed. I wish we had more men, one of the things I’ve come to realize. We need more men under us sharing the same ideals and morals if we would ever come close to making a difference. And judging by the looks of everything, we could make a whole lot of difference, ones that matter, ones that count.

“Roger.” Sydell replied through the radio. “We will stay in position and will rejoin the caravan when they reach us.”

“Roger that.” I replied, nodding. It’s good to have someone loyal for you, better if they take initiatives themselves.

“Let’s go past them then.” Ron said, laying his rifle on his lap. “We have the horses and maybe we could even serve as a distraction for them. We also have the firepower so I think we can take care of some.”

I looked at his rifle and to mine, Ron had already unscrewed the suppressor on his rifle and replaced with muzzle break it almost looked identical to mine. What was different this time though, is that it had a 75 round drum magazine on it instead of the usual of thirty. He had two of them and the other went to me.

That means we have more than double the firepower from the standard assault rifle and if that would buy us more time, the better. I nodded and we trotted on.

We were about two hundred yards ahead of the column and we reached the end of the clearing. All what left is the half mile of open area that we have to cross in order to reach to the town of Turin. From where we are I could see mounted black figures trotting towards our direction about three hundred yards away and would reach us in about a minute. The caravan would take about two minutes for them to reach us. They numbered about a hundred, and there is just the two of us to stop them in time. Shit.

We then quickly dismounted and tied the horses on a low branch so they won’t run away. I then laid stomach and raised my rifle to my shoulder to have the most accurate position to fire. We were lucky we caught the cavalry in the open, else we would have been cut down.

My heart was beating fast as I aimed at the first in the mass of mounted horsemen coming towards us, my target looked to be the biggest in the group and I fired. I saw my target flinch and a puff of dust appeared on his chest only to be blown away as he slowly fell off his horse. Luckily, the mass stopped. Probably confused of why one of them fell, they looked around for a bit only to have another fall down, then another, and another.

The mass of horsemen stopping was the best thing that could have happened to us, with a stable position, a good sight picture, a stable heartbeat, and an enemy stopped in the middle of a field, we went ham.

*POP* *POP* *POP* *POP*

I was pulling the trigger as fast as I could, trying to shoot at the motionless targets before they realize what was happening and try to haul ass. One of them then looked over our direction and yelled as he pointed at us and turned his horse towards our direction in a gallop, he probably saw the dust puff that rose caused by our shots. Everyone then followed and I could feel my heart race at the sight of about seventy men barreling towards us with about ten more following on foot.

The two hundred yards between us shrunk as seconds pass by, as the horses increased their momentum making it harder and harder for any line of men to stop the charge. But for us, this came to us both as a blessing and a curse. Every stride the horses took, it would make them two yards ever closer to us but the speed at which they were travelling made it very easy to just shoot the horse and have it fall over then the one behind it wouldn’t have the chance to avoid it causing a pileup of screaming beasts and men alike.

The closer they are, the easier it also is to hit them and I was having a field day with my AK. I then pulled the trigger and what only came was the crisp click of an empty chamber, it was the loudest quiet sound I’ve ever heard. Shit. I immediately reached into my vest and fished out an AK banana magazine, pressed the magazine catch with the magazine itself, slotted the magazine in and reached over the top of the rifle to charge the bolt, and fired again. Sending another batch of painpills to the ones who need it.

They were about a few seconds away from us now and I could see their number have dwindled to about ten. I then singled out the closest horseman to me and shot his horse straight in the chest but this time instead of the horse collapsing and go to a tumble, I saw sparks fly off its chest. I then fired another and another, only to have the desired effect when it was just right in front of me, its front hooves then collapsed and slid. Its forwards momentum made it tumble ass over head and the rider was thrown off the back and landed far behind me.

I rolled on my back and dodged the thousand pound beast as it slid past. I followed by immediately getting up and saw the rider slowly trying to get on its feet. Closer, I could see the individual plates of his armor shine in a nonmetallic glow and it bled orange blood between the gaps of its armor as it struggled to stand. His legs then buckled under it and no more attempts of getting up followed.

Shots then rang behind me followed by Ron yelling, “ADRIAN!! Shoot those fuckers!!”

I then turned around and saw the survivors of the horse and human pile-up were trying their best effort of running towards us in a limp and were about a hundred yards away from us and closing. Ron was frantically shooting at them and every shot he took, one figure would then fall down and drop out of the race towards us.

Each banana bag would have about thirty rounds fully loaded and there sure more than a thirty of them. I then raised my rifle and pulled the trigger only for it to sound with another click.

Motherfucker.

I then took off the magazine and put in the dump pouch hanging on my left hip and fished for another, slapped it home and charged it. We then continued to clean up the rest of the enemies as they charged at us on foot.

That done, I picked up the drum mag that I dropped in my rush to reload and examined the horse of how it managed to deflect my shots. I looked at its chest and I could see the small hole of which the round entered but I could not find any material in the horse’s chest that could theoretically deflect a bullet. What’s weird though is that its not a horse, and the best way I could explain it is that it looked to be an insect doing a very bad imitation of a horse. Pincers replaced hooves and a set of mandibles is where the mouth would be. Goosebumps ran all over me and I sent another shot to it just to make sure it’s dead.

Seeing as there was nothing that could answer my questions here, I went to the spot where person that rode the horse landed. He was lying on the grass unmoving but I could hear his rasp breathing which obviously told me that he was very much alive. And the only relief that I could give it right now is a bullet to the head.

I walked over to its lying figure and I immediately knew that this person was in no way, a human being, not even the goblins I’ve seen could compare to the thing in front of me. What I thought to be its armor was actually an exoskeleton, and the orange blood I thought I imagined was not a trick of the eye. I could see mandibles right where the bottom of the jaw would be and a multitude of dark eyes looked at me. It was an insect in a humanoid form.

I then heard a distinct shutter sound and I looked up to see Ron with his phone in his hand, he then took another picture and nodded to me. I nodded back and raised my barrel to point on the creature’s head and squeezed the trigger, making its head snap back and spill a mass of orange goo off the back of his head.

I then searched the area around us and noticed the panic whines of our tethered horses, they were really freaked out probably by the gunshots which made me very thankful that we dismounted first before firing. We probably would have fallen off our horses and broke something if we didn’t.

The sound of the caravan trundling on the dirt road then reached us along with the sound of people running coming ever closer. I looked behind me and saw Sydell along with the other two trailing behind, they scanned the forest and swept their rifles from side to side. Ilya and Notus then approached the horses and calmed them down while Sydell came to my side. He looked at the dirt covering our clothes then to the carnage by the field, he then shook his head and whispered something I didn’t catch.

Now that wave reached the clearing, the caravan doesn’t need lead scouts anymore. So we rejoined the caravan and integrated ourselves with the guards. The guards finally stopped sending us their pointed glares as the sight of the pile of the demons and their beasts is not something to be easily ignored and is not something to be scoffed at. The change of pace felt good, seeing as I was starting to find their glares annoying.

We then reloaded our magazines as we traveled down the burnt field that surrounded the town and in the distance, I could see people standing on their walls waving at us and we waved back just as the sun finally dipped below the horizon.

All of a sudden, trumpets blared and the caravan picked up its pace. In the distance, I could see another mass of horsemen trotting straight to our direction, this time I estimated their number to be about five hundred. Rifles then popped along the walls, as they tried to dissuade the cavalry from continuing on their course and I could see dust puffs forming among the mass. Some figures fell while the others trotted on, “Ready your weapons” I yelled as I changed my usual 30 round magazine back to the 75 round drum in preparation for our new guests.

Luckily, someone in there must’ve realized that they won’t be able to make it as the mass changed course, taking it in a direction away from us. The studded wooden gate then opened and we finally entered the besieged town.

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