Five months have passed. May 1517. The village of Vivaro.

Marzio was standing on the bank of a mountain river. At this point, the two streams that came from the Alps merged into a single one. A breath of fresh river wind ruffled his hair. For five months now, Marzio has been a full-fledged member of the Visconti squad. At first it was difficult, but now he has fully joined the team. Everyone treated him kindly, even the eternally gloomy Teodoro trained Marzio in certain skills. Now he is completely his own in their squad. After the first task, several months passed, spring came, and now it was already ending. During this time, the young man managed to visit Croatia, Slovenia, as well as the Alpine Mountains. The magistrate sent them everywhere: first it was necessary to clean out the demons' lair in the forest, then to catch a group of deserters, then to deal with a gang of robbers, but today they were sent to the village of Vivaro, where children disappeared. As it turned out, the kids were swimming in a local river, where amphibious demons were found. They caused the disappearance of several children. But now the threat has been eliminated, and the detachment was going to spend the night in the village to go on a new mission in the morning. Right now, Marzio was admiring the surrounding expanses: the sun had already set over the horizon, but a pale pink haze was still floating above the ground. Sparse clouds glided across the sky, and the south wind shook the crowns of the trees. There was a real idyll in the neighborhood. The young man stood in his full combat uniform: he held his helmet in his right hand, and held the hilt of his sword with his left. The peasants were not allowed to show firearms, so on such tasks they hid it from prying eyes and used only cold. Against most creatures, a good blade and skills are quite sufficient, but there have been some that you just can't take. Marzio was just sorting through his memories, analyzing the last half a year. So many things have changed: he is a full-fledged knight brother, even if he is not very experienced yet, but also not a rookie, as he was last winter. Marzio thought, "How many have I killed in all this time?" he remembered the three guards he had shot on the walls of the fort, then he remembered the bandits from the robber gang, but he could not remember further. Too much has happened lately. He suddenly felt sad, but not because so many people had fallen by his hand, the reason was different. He hadn't seen his father for a long time, he missed his mother. To his surprise, he was worried about Lily, who lived in his stepmother's castle. And he also thought about Madame Fermo herself periodically, and about his half-sister. "And how are the guys from the academy doing there?" he suddenly remembered those friends with whom he studied. Then he thought about Faina, that flighty girl from the junior ranks of the order. He hadn't seen her since he'd gone north with the caravan. Beatrice's voice interrupted his thoughts:

"Marzio!" the young man turned around. Beatrice Flora was walking towards him from the village and waving her hand.

"It's getting late – Bernardo is calling." Taking a last look at the water surface, the young man went to the village.

The local headman cordially sheltered the knights in his house. He never tired of thanking them for saving their children and offered all kinds of amenities. Bernardo politely refused, but the old man insisted. Then Uberto and Fabio were the first to break down. These two friends gladly accepted all the dishes that the headman offered and did not refuse wine either. The others were more restrained. They were allocated a large room with a fireplace, where they dragged several single beds. This was more than enough for the knights, but the old man did not let up, trying in every possible way to serve the Hospitallers. However, towards night Visconti was finally able to politely send the headman away, and then the knights were left alone.

Next to the fire of the burning fireplace, all the members of the squad were sitting on their beds, waiting for the commander to start talking. Bernardo was as calm as ever. He was sitting in his seat with his legs crossed and his palms on his knees. Everyone was silent. After a minute Visconti took a deep breath and began:

"Friends, we have received news from the magistrate."

"Ooooh..." Fabio drawled in a dissatisfied tone.

"I see! You don't have to continue, Bernardo."

"Are we being driven to a new mission again at night looking?" Beatrice asked.

"No." Visconti replied shortly. Everyone froze in anticipation.

"The war." a thick silence hung in the room. Marzio froze, because he expected anything but this. But the silence didn't last long.

"What!?" exclaimed Uberto.

"With who, when!?"

"Who attacked us!?" Beatrice asked.

"Or did we attack?!" Fabio said. Then the hubbub began.

"Silence." Bernardo said quietly enough. Everyone fell silent.

"The magistrate informs that today the Pope of Corsica excommunicated Liechtenstein, as well as all his subjects. Then the kingdoms of Genoa and Pisa declared war on Liechtenstein, as well as Veneto and Slovenia. The Pope blessed them, and then Papal Corsica and Sardinia also declared war on us. They were also supported by the counties of Bologna and Lombardy. Our enemy is the whole of western Italy."

"Yeah." Fabio drawled.

"What should we do, Commander?" Uberto asked.

"Pack up – we are going to Venice immediately."

"Nice rest we've had, what can I say..." Sergio muttered.

In the night, the knights went to the capital. They had less than a day to get to the capital, but Visconti received orders to get to Venice as soon as possible. Driving the horses, making short passes, the knights reached by the night of the next day. All this time, Marzio was in a strange state: it was an inner silence, which, although disturbed by external sounds, was so thick that nothing could break it. The word "war" scared him, because it did not bode well. Besides, Marzio is a knight, which means that he will very soon find himself in the midst of events. It was just this feeling of approaching an imminent fate, which promised only pain, and introduced Marzio into such a state.

They were given a rest in Veneto. More and more people were arriving at the barracks of the order. The magistrate announced the gathering of all unused detachments. But not only the brothers and sister knights were summoned, ordinary soldiers of the order were also gathered in the capital. Mobilization was announced across the country. The day after Marzio arrived in Veneto, he and the other knights were brought up to date. The troops of Genoa, Pisa, Papal Corsica-Sardinia, with the support of Lombardy and Bologna, invaded Veneto. They crossed the Po River, and after that, long battles ensued along the entire border. However, the attacking forces are large, so the first line of defense will fall in a few days. Therefore, the troops are urgently pulling together to defensive positions in the interior of the country. There is also information about the first naval collisions. Now the advanced detachments are formed into companies, which consisted of "copies". The "spear" usually consisted of 6 people: one cavalryman armed with a spear and five auxiliary mounted warriors to jointly represent a combat unit – a Ban (banner) and recruited from direct vassals, the contingent included more units of archers and infantry. After distribution, these groups will be sent to various points in the country.

Detachments were formed in the citadel of the order. All firearms were placed in warehouses so that they would not fall into the hands of the enemy and the civilian population. In addition, there is a rule according to which it is forbidden to use firearms in wars. It remained only with a few advanced veteran detachments, who were supposed to control the safety of the rear from demons, actually doing the work of half of the order. In the capital, Marzio met his friends from the academy. After the examinations, he approached them:

"Oh, look, it's Marzio!" Maddalena exclaimed when she saw him. Surprisingly, all of Marzio's friends were standing together, thus forming a kind of company.

"Hello everyone!" he greeted them.

"Look, he's still alive." Batista grinned.

"I see you are fine too." Marzio answered him immediately.

"Livelier than all the living!" Pelagatti said proudly.

"Well, Marzio, tell me how are you?" Maddalena continued.

"There's nothing important about me, you'd better tell me why have you all gathered together?"

"We were assigned to the same regiment." Valentino replied.

"So we will serve together."

"That's how it is" said Marzio.

"So, how are you, Marzio?" Carla asked.

"I'm perfectly fine. We've been with the squad for five months from point to point. There were so many things, and not to tell at once."

"Alive. That's great, otherwise there are already several corpses in our issue."

"Corpses?"

"Yes, a couple of people died on missions."

"But with such prospects, soon it will no longer be a couple of people." Valentino added here.

"Indeed. This war is completely unexpected for us" Maddalena said.

"Huh, a trifle! Batista intervened."

"I am ready to kill both demons and people."

"Yeah, but there are hundreds of times more people, don't forget." Carla said.

"That's even better. More trophies, more glory!"

"I see you have a fighting spirit." Marzio said.

"Of course! I can't wait to be sent into battle."

"What company are you assigned to, Marzio?" Carla asked.

"Here is everyone who is in the 3rd cavalry squadron."

"Really?! Well, then it turns out that we will fight together." Maddalena was delighted.

"Most likely, not all together, since we can be distributed to different locations." Marzio remarked.

Then he was hailed. It was Visconti, calling Marzio to follow him.

"Okay, guys, I have to run."

"Wow, are you in the Visconti squad?" Maddalena was surprised.

"Yes, why?"

"I heard that this is one of the veterans of the order. The rest of his squad probably consists only of experienced ones."

"Why didn't you tell us about this, Marzio?" Valentino asked.

"Somehow there was no time, especially since we immediately left after training. Okay, I got to go. Good luck!"

"Good luck, Marzio!" Maddalena and Carla answered him. When the young man moved away, Guerra spoke out:

"He's lucky to be in such a squad."

"Yes, they probably keep him there as an errand boy." Batista suggested gloatingly.

"You're just jealous of him." Carla grinned.

"Who!? Me!? Yes, I will never envy such a wheezer in my life!"

"Well, why are you staring like that?"

"I'm not looking at anything! But now you will have nothing to do it with."

"Well, well, let's attack!" Carla was being sarcastic.

"Stop it!" Maddalena intervened.

"You are knights after all!"

As Marzio had said, they ended up together in the same cavalry squadron, only in different companies. Now they had to move into position. The magistrate was in no hurry to send the still inexperienced knights into battle, so he sent them to the city of Padua, where they will hold the defense. Now the forces of western Italy, or, as they called themselves, the "Holy Alliance", were besieging the cities of Verona, Legnago, Rovigo, Tillo di Po and Adria. The forces were not equal, so soon these cities will fall, and the enemy will head to Padua, Vicenza, Trento and Chioggia. There is a direct route from Padua to Venice, so control over this city was of enormous importance. But the enemy used mobile tactics: the main armies besieged the fortresses, and at this time less numerous groups of troops advanced into the depths. Now the magistrate was forming military groups and distributing them along the offensive line.

It took a week to assemble the troops. All this time, Marzio did absolutely nothing, since he was of little use in the organization, and it remained only to wait for orders. In his free time, Marzio strolled around the capital with his friends and members of the squad. On one of these days at the market, when the young man was looking at the counter, a heavy blow fell on him from behind quite unexpectedly. Marzio was extremely surprised and grabbed the injured head.

"Oh, you scoundrel!" a shrill female voice shouted.

"How could you disappear like that!" Marzio turned around, rubbing the bruised place, and saw Faina. As the months passed, she did not change in any way.

"I couldn't find a place for myself, and you're hanging around here!" the angry expression on his face, as always, was formidable, but a vulnerable girl peeked out from under this mask. Although her frowning brows were angry, but her eyes were shining.

"You! How could he leave like that and not send a message!? What the hell are you doing here anyway!?" Faina exuded a mixture of hysteria and joy. Marzio could not find the words to her attacks, but then Visconti suddenly appeared.

"Lieutenant!" Bernardo began.

"You would be more careful with a knight of noble blood." Faina looked at Visconti in surprise, and then turned her gaze to Marzio.

"Noble what? A knight?" the girl's lips were trembling.

"Really? You?" she started laughing nervously. Marzio just nodded, smiling guiltily.

"A noble knight?" In the Order of the Hospitallers? she giggled.

"You don't even hold a sword in your hands properly!" she continued to laugh nervously.

"Well, that's right..." Marzio answered her.

"I'm holding an av in my hands," Visconti interrupted him abruptly.

"Mr. Marzio Variatle," he was telling her.

"A full-fledged brother-knight of the Order of the Hospitallers, besides, he is the eldest son of the respected General Hugo Von Fermo!" Faina lowered her gaze, again shifting it from Visconti to Marzio, and then stopped laughing.

"Is it true?" the girl asked.

"Yep..." said the young man. Faina immediately changed her face - she clearly did not expect anything like this.

"Come on, Marzio." Bernardo intervened again.

"We have to go."the young man nodded and turned back to Faina.

"It was nice to see you, sorry, but I have to go." the young man went, leaving the puzzled girl alone. Faina stood for a while in prostration.

"I must have confused something. This can't be happening..."

A week has passed. While our troops were gaining strength, the enemy was advancing into the interior of the country. Marzio's squadron was sent to the outskirts of Padua to restrain the enemy on the flanks. The city itself was already fully preparing for the upcoming siege. Marzio and his detachment, consisting of one company, were moving in a cavalry formation towards the city. After half a day of travel, they found themselves at the place where they were stationed, waiting for further orders. Marzio was overcome with nostalgia, as he had not been to this city for a long time. However, the next morning new instructions came: the enemy army was advancing between the cities of Vicenza and Padua – they intended to wedge into the depths of our territory and surround two strategic cities, then to reach the capital with impunity. This had to be prevented. Then, urgently, the 3rd squadron of Hospitallers, with the assistance of the Veneto army, moved towards the village of Creola, where the enemy army was now. The enemy was preparing to cross the Bacchiglione River, so the Venetians had a small amount of time. Half a day later, the army was in place.

The disposition was as follows: the Bacchiglione River is winding and deep, and it was necessary to organize a crossing to force it. Since the enemy's army was large, it took a lot of time. Now the enemy was based in the village of Creola, which was located at the bend of the river, and it was there that the most successful place for crossing was. The Venetian army was located east of the Creole in the village of La Montecia, and between them was the village of Saccolongo surrounded by fields and meadows to the south and the river to the north. It was planned to impose a fight on the enemy in that place.

The command decided to go into battle in the following order: heavy mercenary infantry will be located on the right flank and will occupy a hill near Saccolongo. The main part, consisting of the local militia, will stand in the first line in order to exhaust the enemy, the regular army will be in the second, and crossbowmen and archers will line up in front of the infantry and meet the enemy with flat fire. Marzio and the bulk of the cavalry will occupy Belinaro, which was located to the south of Saccolongo, and will meet the enemy cavalry in the meadows on the southern flank. Veneto had about one and a half thousand soldiers: half of them were mercenaries armed with heavy swords, halberds and crossbows, they were motley detachments that fought together and against each other more than once. Five hundred militia men, mostly using shaft weapons and bows. Three hundred knights of the order, as well as a regular army consisting of spearmen and swordsmen with sufficient training. The enemy had about two thousand people, of which a thousand militia engaged in the construction of the crossing, about four hundred cavalrymen, inferior to the Hospitallers in quality. And a regular army of 600 swordsmen. The Pisan General Giuseppe Saltaformaggio commanded the enemy army.

The day after arrival, the battle began. The Veneto army was lined up according to a preliminary plan, the Pisa army put the militia in the first line, followed by rifle detachments, and distributed the swordsmen along the front, giving preference to the center and south, while the cavalry was located symmetrically to the order bearers. According to the plan, the Veneto army strikes the first blow at the enemy with the forces of the Order, starting a battle with enemy cavalry and annoying on the left flank, after which it pulls the enemy forces on itself, exposing those to the fire of its crossbowmen, then the armies converge, and the first lines in close combat collide with each other in a fierce onslaught, while The Veneto riflemen are retreating behind the infantry formation. After the first lines have exhausted their strength, heavy mercenary infantry enters the battle, bypassing the enemy from the right flank, and regular troops replace the militia. That was the plan.

Marzio sat in the saddle, nervously waiting. The cavalry had already formed up, waiting for the order. In his hand he clutched the spear more and more tightly, with his left hand he pressed a light shield to himself. A brand-new crossbow hung on his back, and a quiver with bolts and a sword were placed on his belt. The horse under the saddle also clacked its hooves nervously. There was tension in the air. The cloudless sky was literally crushing, and the sun was baking. Nature seemed to freeze. On the field near the village of Saccolongo, two armies looked at each other from a distance. Negotiations, commands and other sounds were heard everywhere. Marzio tried to control his breathing and heart. At the academy, of course, he was taught maneuvers on horseback, and he was already holding up well in the saddle, but this was his first attack. His companions, dressed in black knight's robes, were waiting around. They were also given other helmets without a walkie-talkie and other devices. In principle, it was understandable – what if expensive and rare equipment gets damaged or falls into the hands of the enemy? Therefore, we had to limit ourselves to primitive methods. Here Marzio chuckled to himself: "I would like to give a turn at the enemy infantry with a Teodoro machine gun. Then the battle would have ended before it started." But this could not be done – strict rules of warfare. The honor that all worthy rulers and warriors cherished. Although, Marzio would have been much calmer if he had held his UMP in his hands. Or at least his old crossbow, which he lost that ill-fated night. But he was afraid of something else: after all, he was not an ideal rider, and he could not cope with a horse, besides, it was necessary to first strike a knight's blow at the riders, and only then move away and start shooting with a crossbow.

A bugle sounded, the signal to attack. My heart was pounding wildly. The cavalry slowly moved from their seats. Marzio was on the right side of the building of the wall of spears – closer to the edge. The horsemen began to accelerate gradually. They had already left their infantry behind, as a cloud of dust began to rise in front, and enemy cavalrymen appeared from it. The formation switched to a trot: the sound of hooves on the ground beat a strange, fascinating rhythm, which began to pulse in unison with the heart. Marzio's blood began to boil, the fear slowly evaporated. The riders were getting closer and closer to each other. You can already see their silhouettes of the enemy's first line and the banners of Pisa. To the right of Marzio was a village, and near it the enemy army was dark. A new signal sounded, and the riders broke into a gallop. The horses were rushing with all their might, representing a terrible force. Marzio lost track of time – the horsemen were about to collide. Somewhere in his head a hurricane rose, but only then did he realize that these were the battle cries of the warriors. One second. Two. Three. Hit.

From surprise, Marzio did not have time to grab the stirrup tighter, and therefore he hit his back on the ground with all his might. He was disoriented for a second. Only after a couple of minutes he realized that he was lying on the grass, and his horse, like the rest of the formation, galloped on. Gathering his strength, he tried to get up. The body ached wildly, the lungs seemed to curl up, and it was impossible to breathe through the helmet. Bolts spilled out of the quiver. Having finally managed to get to his feet, the young man realized that the horsemen had ridden far away, and he himself was caught between two armies. Marzio began to think nervously about what he should do next: the army of Pisa was coming after him, and a squad of skirmishers was leaving it. It was still far enough to his own, so it was not possible to run alone. Collecting as many fallen bolts as possible, Marzio adjusted the shield on his back and joined the squad of crossbowmen. The archers looked at the overthrown knight with bewilderment, but said nothing. Probably because they were followed by over a thousand armed soldiers. Now Marzio was running along with the rest of the crossbowmen, thinking: "I was a mounted rifleman – I became a pedestrian, what's the difference." Together with the rest of the retreating riflemen, Marzio ran towards his infantry. In the first line of the Venetian army there were militias, also from Pisa, and it should be taken into account that there were more enemies, and regular units followed them. During the retreat. Marzio tried to look around the battlefield: a whole army was on their heels, and groups of horsemen were still visible on the right. The fight was just beginning.

Having reached their infantrymen, the crossbowmen began to make their way through the allied formation. The militia was armed in a motley way, and their composition itself was not a pleasant people. Passing through their formation, Marzio was pushed and elbowed, throwing unfriendly glances. The young man could not see how he looked in his knight's uniform against the background of the militia. Perhaps illiterate commoners considered him to be the commander of hired crossbowmen, and they had a biased attitude towards mercenaries. Once behind them, the crossbowmen with Marzio formed up again. But the young man did not know how and where to get up, so he huddled on the side. One of the mercenaries paid attention to him:

"Hey, you dropout!" he shouted to him.

"Come here!" he beckoned him over. Marzio had no choice but to join them.

"Did something throw you off your horse, you little bugger?" asked a mercenary aged and with gray stubble.

"Something like that." Marzio replied wearily.

"Ha-ha! It also happens. Be glad you didn't get trampled. I see you're the shooter? So, stay close to us, okay?" Marzio nodded.

At this time, enemy infantry was approaching them. The militia frowned and got into position, commands were given. The footsteps of hundreds of people could be heard rattling their armor and weapons. That sound kept coming and coming.

"Get ready!" suddenly someone shouted. The mercenaries raised their crossbows. Marzio followed their example.

"Fire!" a swarm of bolts with a wild whistle went over the heads of the militia. Marzio had never fired in such a formation before. For a moment, he was enthusiastic. The whistling of the bolts gave him confidence.

"Charge it!" the same voice continued. Then the crossbowmen fired a number of volleys. At that time, the two armies finally met face to face.

A fierce battle was brewing in front of Marzio. One by one, he took out the bolt and sent it into the invisible crowd. Marzio didn't know if he was hitting or not, but the power represented by the swarm of bolts evoked a sense of steadfastness. The confrontation lasted for several long minutes, but then the front line of infantrymen began to thin out. But suddenly there was a wild neighing in front of them. And the Pisan banners soared over the heads of the militia. A second later, the knights themselves appeared, cutting through the thinned formation of the militia. Stunned, Marzio wanted to retreat, but he was prevented by the mercenaries standing behind him. They did not move from their place, continuing to fire. Marzio reloaded the crossbow, realizing that there were too few bolts left in the quiver. At least half of it was lost in the fall. Aiming at one of the riders, who famously wielded his sword, the young man fired a shot. But the bolt hit the knight's shield. The rider paid attention to this and cast a glance in the direction of the mercenaries. Then he made a sign to the rest of the soldiers, and the horsemen began to break through the formation with greater force. The militia could no longer withstand such an onslaught, so the Pisan infantrymen were already showing up. The cavalry made another push and broke out of the ranks of the infantry. A second later, they were already in the ranks of the shooters.

Several horsemen were rushing straight at Marzio. The commander of the crossbowmen ordered to retreat, and the rear ranks began to go behind the regular Veneto swordsmen, who were already impatient to rush into battle. Right now, all Marzio had to do was not die when his turn came to his front row. At the same time, the chances were decreasing with every second – there were almost no militia left ahead. The mercenaries drew their swords and met the cavalry as best they could. Marzio had no choice but to drop the crossbow and draw his sword. Placing his light shield in his left hand, the young man prepared to meet the enemy. The horsemen could not hit the shooters with an organized fist, as the formation of the Venetian militia turned into a human mess. Single riders burst out of it, stained in blood, with swords on their heads, and steam is pouring out of their horses' nostrils. The horses carried people on their way, rearing up, kicking the infantrymen. The horsemen struck furiously. This terrible force demolished the first formation of crossbowmen from the left flank, but the triumph of the cavalry ended there. The horsemen were surrounded and if they could not hit a man, then the mercenaries, without ceremony, cut down the horses. After a couple of seconds, a couple of knights were on the ground, where they were finished off by several people at once. But there were also some riders who could not be taken just like that. The animals did not let the soldiers get close to them, kicking and fighting back, and the horseman himself skillfully wielded his sword. Marzio was waiting for an opponent to be next to him, but it didn't take long. Another rider broke out of the crowd: he crashed into the mercenaries standing next to him and began to fight back. The head of one of the mercenaries flew off under the feet of the young man – this served as a kind of signal. Marzio rushed into battle, straight to the rider. Hiding behind his shield, he swung his sword, aiming at the rider's arm, but the rider managed to react and blocked him. The swords met and made a ringing sound. The arm was slightly numb from the strong blow. Marzio met his gaze, the rider's eyes glittered through the slit of his helmet, and they identified themselves as rivals. They began to exchange blows, each contact of the swords was blocked by Marzio with great effort, and his arm became increasingly numb. Dodging the prick, he pulled the rider behind him and threw him off the horse. But the knight did not lose his head and, rolling over, stood up, raising dust into the air. Marzio took up a stance and struck from the bottom to the left. The swordsman retreated and immediately made a lunge, which Marzio took with his sword to the right and hit the swordsman with a gauntlet. After they broke the distance, and Marzio made an injection, ducking from an enemy horizontal blow, piercing his armor. Blood spurted from the horseman's helmet, and he fell to his knees in front of Marzio. A scarlet trickle began to pour on the metal, and the young man struck the last blow. The knight went limp and collapsed on the grass. Taking a deep breath, the young man shook his bloody blade.

Before he knew it, Marzio heard the sound of hooves approaching. Having managed to turn around, he saw a rider galloping at him. The young man managed to duck, and the enemy's sword whistled over his head. Instinctively, he thrust his sword towards the horse and horizontally cut its legs. The animal was knocked down and, flying by inertia a few meters, she fell to the ground. Marzio wanted to run up and finish off the knight, but the mercenaries did it for him, who broke the formation under enemy pressure. At this time, the Venetian militia completely thinned out and began to retreat chaotically. Their place was taken by the Pisan infantry, which supported its cavalry. The mercenaries had already lost enough men and without any formation began to retreat behind the advancing Venetian swordsmen. Marzio was again caught between two fires: on one side a wall of Venetian infantry, crossbowmen fighting off cavalry in the middle, and a crowd of Pisan infantrymen moving towards them. The young man wanted to retreat, but then he was called out:

"Hey, you peasant!" a stocky horseman with a mace, clad in heavy armor decorated with the family coat of arms, was seen in front of him.

"Baron Massa deigned to speak to you, fight or die!"

After that, Massa attacked Marzio. The young man left in a roll from the Baron laughing on a horse, who was waving his mace. Not having time to get up, Variatla had to roll on the ground again like a snake on a frying pan, avoiding the blows of the rider. At one point, the knight stopped his horse and shouted:

"Fight!"

Marzio took advantage of the hitch and obediently stood up. After that, he was forced to duck again from the heavy piece of iron that was wagging at his head. Even if you block it with a shield, it will break a couple of bones. What can we say about getting into the head. The Baron wanted to turn her into jelly. After a couple of blows past, the knight got tired of waving his weapon. and Marzio managed to strike. But despite not being blocked, the sword only slid across the armor. Marzio decided to risk a counterattack: every second baron did not block, either relying on his armor, or simply could not do it, because he did not have a shield. At this rate, it was only possible to blunt the sword. Marzio had no choice but to switch to a horse. He mentally apologized to the poor animal and wanted to stick a sword in her neck, but she just wouldn't give in. Together with its owner, the animal tried to trample the young man, splashing saliva and expelling hot steam. But Marzio was quicker than them and managed to plunge the blade into an unprotected place. The horse neighed and reared up. The Baron barked and fell down with his mare. Getting up and groaning, the baron looked at Marzio through his decorated helmet with eyes full of malice and threw his whole weight on the young man. Marzio tried to dodge, but he was crushed by a carcass. Thank God he didn't hit with a mace. Rolling over, he left the baron's weight and jumped up, staggering a little. His body did not leave such a blow unanswered.

"You scoundrel!" The baron shouted.

"How low to kill a horse!"

They clashed again, but the enthusiastic opponents did not notice how the distance between the two lines of infantry was shrinking with every second. The horsemen, realizing that they would find themselves between two lines, decided to hastily retreat. Marzio and the knight continued the duel.

"At least name yourself, little one!" said the Baron.

"My name is Marzio Variatle, the son of sir Fermo!" with these words, the young man rushed to the attack.

Striking with all his might, Marzio pressed the baron into the ground. Then he quickly rolled over and stood up.

"Fermo you say?" The baron asked.

But Marzio wasn't listening. He leaned on him again. The baron blocked the blow with a mace and decided to catch the youngster during such recklessness, but he had already slipped behind him, and the mace only slashed the air. Turning to the left, the baron struck a horizontal blow, and Marzio jumped away from him. The young man tried to pierce the knight's throat, but he turned his torso and covered the gap. Marzio did not despair and continued. He tried to break through at least some gaps, but each time the baron skillfully dodged and covered his weaknesses. Staggering and panting, Marzio desperately hit the enemy tirelessly. Finally, he hit the leg. The baron switched to one heat and drove off Marzio with a mace. Trying to get up, he lost his balance, and Marzio stabbed him in the neck. The Baron froze for a second, and then slowly fell. Marzio remained on his feet, breathing heavily. My heart was pounding wildly, and sweat flooded my eyes in my helmet. But he was not allowed to relax. Two infantry formations have almost clashed.

He alone was forced to fight two swordsmen at once. There was no time to retreat. He deflected a shot that aimed to hit his head from the left and hit his opponent's shield. At that time, the second one wanted to take advantage of the situation and came up, slashing from top to bottom, but Marzio managed to take a step to the side without slowing down the pressure on the shield. Having missed the enemy from the side, he kicked him in pursuit and blocked the sword under his arm, tore out the shield, then plunged his blade into the first one. At that time, the second one had already stood up and was forced to immediately dodge Marzio's attack. Rolling his heavy sword, the clumsy opponent lost his former speed after the battle with the infantry. Therefore, after a couple of blows, Marzio was able to find a gap in his defense and cut his leg, then his arm and, after a few episodes, the enemy fell lifeless.

Then Marzio felt the pressure from behind – it turned out to be regular infantry. Looking around, the young man realized that all this time, virtually alone, he was covering the retreating allies. There were also some selfless mercenaries with him, but they had long since retreated behind the backs of the swordsmen. If it weren't for the pesky Pisan baron, then Marzio would already be in the rear. Realizing that he clearly could not survive in such a thick of events, the young man began to step back. Hiding behind his shield, he took steps back until he joined the ranks of the swordsmen. Then a bugle sounded from the front, and the two armies rushed at each other with a wild shout. Here Marzio could not stand it anymore and, headlong, rushed back against the stream. He had had enough.

Finally getting out of the crowd of people, Marzio found himself again in front of a line of mercenaries. They were shooting at the enemy again, but there were an order of magnitude fewer of them. Covered in sweat, dirt and blood, with a bloody and blunted, battered shield, Marzio stepped out into the empty space. His eyes were drenched in sweat and he couldn't see how the crossbowmen looked at him with respect. Dragging his feet, he again approached the formation. Trying to catch his breath, Marzio took off his helmet. The fresh air immediately cooled his ardent head. His hair stuck to his skin, and the young man could feel the fragrance he exuded from himself.

"And the kid is not a blunder." someone in the crowd said. But Marzio didn't pay attention to it he was trying to come to his senses.

After catching his breath for a minute, the young man began to think: what's what. He didn't have a crossbow anymore, so it didn't work out. There was no reason to join the battle again – now regular swordsmen took up the task. Marzio decided to rest for a few more minutes, and then think about what to do. He wanted to fall wildly, but the knight's pride would not allow it, so he just sat down on the grass. My temples were pounding, and my clothes were sticking to my body. I desperately wanted to wash up. It is not known how much time passed until the young man was called.

"Marzio, hey Marzio!" Beatrice was galloping towards him. She was cheerful enough.

"What are you doing here?" the girl asked. Marzio stood up, looked around and spoke.

"I'm a crossbowman here." the girl stared at the dirty young man.

"Did you shoot a lot?" she asked, pointing to the curved sword.

"I don't know... I threw the crossbow there when the cavalry attacked us, and I almost lost all the bolts in the field when I, or rather, my horse lost me." The girl looked at Marzio in bewilderment, and then answered.

"Go to the garrison, otherwise we've lost you" with these words Beatrice galloped back without even offering a lift.

Marzio just sighed heavily, picked up his helmet, put the helmet in the scabbard, and hung the shield on his back, and walked east towards the camp. He was so tired that the scorching midday sun no longer made him uncomfortable. As he walked slowly through the ranks of soldiers, he caught glances at himself. Indeed, an exhausted knight wandering alone from the battlefield aroused interest and respect. Marzio even felt that he had done his job for today, and if they were thrown into the attack again, he would lie that his ribs were broken, or maybe he wouldn't even lie.

When he reached the camp where the hospital and headquarters were located, Marzio immediately found his mounted detachment. Only the horses looked tired of them. Visconti immediately drove up to him:

"Well, where have you been hanging around? he asked.

"There..." Marzio waved vaguely in the direction of the battle.

"Huh, well done! I knew nothing would happen to you." with these words, he galloped back.

Climbing the hill where there was a hospital and headquarters, Marzio noticed a stump, on which he immediately fell. In front of him was a view of the battlefield: there was a full battle going on, somewhere behind the first rows crossbowmen were shooting back. "If I hadn't lost the crossbow, I probably would have stayed." thought Marzio. Then he heard footsteps approaching. He turned around – it was a beautiful young girl in the uniform of the Order of St. Lazarus. She was running to him.

"Are you wounded, Brother Knight?" she asked in a gentle voice.

"Eh?" the young man replied. The girl approached him and began to examine him.

"Where did it happen to you?" the girl continued, wiping Marzio's dirty face with a wet rag.

"Yes, over there." Marzio pointed to the center of the battle.

"But the Hospitallers did not participate in a foot battle, did they? They returned to their positions a couple of hours ago."

"And I was dropped..." said Marzio sadly.

"Oh, God!" the girl surprised.

"Did you have to fight off infantry on foot?"

"No, I'm a crossbowman." the young man continued, being in prostration.

"I fought off the cavalry."

After a few minutes, Marzio was more or less put in order. As it turned out, he had no serious injuries, except for a lot of bruises, bruises and general exhaustion. Marzio learned that after the attack, the cavalry successfully retreated from the battlefield. The knights fought with the enemy cavalry for some time, and the crossbowmen retreated after the first successful attack. There were minor losses among the horsemen, and Marzio's company came out of the battle in full force. He was the only one missing, but no one saw him killed, so several people went in search of him. Two hours later, Beatrice found him. They thought that the young man immediately retreated to the headquarters, no one expected that he would be in the epicenter. As a result, Marzio was the only one of the Hospitallers who participated in the battle actually from start to finish in the hottest spot. The battle ended half an hour after Marzio returned to headquarters.

The cavalry of the Hospitallers completed their task, the infantry suffered heavy losses, the same can be said about the shooters. The enemies lost most of the infantry and the enthusiasm of the cavalry. They won't survive another meeting with the Hospitallers. Pisa's general Giuseppe Saltaformaggio suffered a minor defeat and was forced to withdraw to the south and gained a foothold in the mountain range near Rovolona. The battle can be considered won.

After the battle, Marzio was back in his squadron. After listening to the praise and approval from colleagues for selfless, but unnecessary heroism, Marzio talked with Visconti.

"You're doing great, Marzio." he was saying.

"In such a situation, not everyone can control themselves, but you could. I wasn't wrong about you when I invited you to join my squad."

"Thank you, Commander." the young man replied in a still tired voice.

"Is it really over?" Visconti wanted to say something, but then an exclamation sounded behind them.

"Attention, attention!" the horseman screamed heart–rendingly. He looked like a messenger.

"An urgent report to the General!"

"What's going on there?" Visconti muttered.

"Padua has been attacked! Demons have entered the city!"

"Demons. That would be the last straw." thought Marzio.

"It's over, you say..." Bernardo said.

"No, Marzio. The problems have just begun."