Daiman had been patrolling the ramparts of the keep for an hour now. Just watching him had made Stryder dizzy.
The hired metals were going to arrive soon and Daiman had been too paranoid just to let them enter without scaring them a bit.
The ward or as the men called it, the death yard was full of men drilling and arrow targets, many mottes and baileys had been upraised around the castle. Still, the castle of Sal Veor was large enough to spare some space all around. The castle was guarded by a cliff drop on one side and the protected forests on one side.
The only residents were in the western valley which spread for leagues before merging with the Dawn Ranges.
Since his men had stormed the tax centres at Attarock, most of the Stonian men in the Northern Deserts had not been brave enough to guard others. The ones who fled for their lives had left a lot of Aureates. The gold however, was not enough to solve all their problems and gold could not buy food in times of war.
All of the Northern Deserts had been rid of tax collection centres and gold had been distributed throughout them.All of the power that could be gathered was marched towards Sal Veor or left to guard Stryder’s homeland
“Brother! Daiman!” Stryder shouted to get his brother’s attention as he descended to the lower ward. Daiman’s curly hair fell upon his shoulders and bounced back as he strode towards Stryder. Even in the dusk, his red eyes pierced souls wherever he went. “Tell me how did you persuade Quirina to get all the defensive structures on keeps and towers?” Stryder asked with his hands behind his back.
“It is important, brother.” Daiman pushed his hair backwards against the wind. “For all we know the hired metals might come into the castle and not leave it.”
“No doubt they would. After all there are only twenty five hundred men to guard it, ten and three thousand camped outside and fifteen hundred men who would descend any day if their administrators are threatened.” Stryder then dropped his sarcastic tone, “I do not think the Companies would be dumb enough to attack Sal Veor, little brother. Specially considering that there are only six hundred of them combined.”
Daiman shrugged. “Meh, The Jesters, The Whistlers and the Silent Ones are all about presentation, about time someone gave them a dose of their own medicine.” he turned his head for a full inspection of the castle. “They will see it, probably. Wonderful idea! Thank you brother, purple flares would really scare them a bit.”
Stryder looked at his brother quizzically.
“Just giving you a bit of credit, Stryder, after all a King will use his brain.” Daiman whispered.
It was a bit of a time before the Three Companies were in the ward. Most of the men were mounted and some on horseback. The Companies too had their fair share of artillery and long ranged weapons.
Riding the farthest out with only his standard bearer was a man surely of the Ranges with salt spotted hair and the unmistakable skin of a man from the coast.
He was looking every man in the eye and frowning in dissaproval even on being greeted with contempt from half of them. Even Daiman had shied away and most of the men had dropped practice to look at probably the most rugged face in the Realm.
Stryder knew that the only man to fit this description was the outlaw Mistingritis Ceruleo of High Coast.
It was said that there was no man who had soared as high as Mistingritis after falling. He had a ram horned bascinet clutched between his right arm and his waist, an axe occupied the other one.
Stryder felt strange that the Companies were in no scarcity of weapons, but only a few sported protective gear. Not a lot of men had the guts to come armed but not armored into a strange castle.
This only made Stryder admire the mercenary more.
Although, Stryder did not firmly believe in archetypes, he would definitely project Mistingritis as one for what people would call a perfect commander
The hired metals were going to arrive soon and Daiman had been too paranoid just to let them enter without scaring them a bit.
The ward or as the men called it, the death yard was full of men drilling and arrow targets, many mottes and baileys had been upraised around the castle. Still, the castle of Sal Veor was large enough to spare some space all around. The castle was guarded by a cliff drop on one side and the protected forests on one side.
The only residents were in the western valley which spread for leagues before merging with the Dawn Ranges.
Since his men had stormed the tax centres at Attarock, most of the Stonian men in the Northern Deserts had not been brave enough to guard others. The ones who fled for their lives had left a lot of Aureates. The gold however, was not enough to solve all their problems and gold could not buy food in times of war.
All of the Northern Deserts had been rid of tax collection centres and gold had been distributed throughout them.All of the power that could be gathered was marched towards Sal Veor or left to guard Stryder’s homeland
“Brother! Daiman!” Stryder shouted to get his brother’s attention as he descended to the lower ward. Daiman’s curly hair fell upon his shoulders and bounced back as he strode towards Stryder. Even in the dusk, his red eyes pierced souls wherever he went. “Tell me how did you persuade Quirina to get all the defensive structures on keeps and towers?” Stryder asked with his hands behind his back.
“It is important, brother.” Daiman pushed his hair backwards against the wind. “For all we know the hired metals might come into the castle and not leave it.”
“No doubt they would. After all there are only twenty five hundred men to guard it, ten and three thousand camped outside and fifteen hundred men who would descend any day if their administrators are threatened.” Stryder then dropped his sarcastic tone, “I do not think the Companies would be dumb enough to attack Sal Veor, little brother. Specially considering that there are only six hundred of them combined.”
Daiman shrugged. “Meh, The Jesters, The Whistlers and the Silent Ones are all about presentation, about time someone gave them a dose of their own medicine.” he turned his head for a full inspection of the castle. “They will see it, probably. Wonderful idea! Thank you brother, purple flares would really scare them a bit.”
Stryder looked at his brother quizzically.
“Just giving you a bit of credit, Stryder, after all a King will use his brain.” Daiman whispered.
It was a bit of a time before the Three Companies were in the ward. Most of the men were mounted and some on horseback. The Companies too had their fair share of artillery and long ranged weapons.
Riding the farthest out with only his standard bearer was a man surely of the Ranges with salt spotted hair and the unmistakable skin of a man from the coast.
He was looking every man in the eye and frowning in dissaproval even on being greeted with contempt from half of them. Even Daiman had shied away and most of the men had dropped practice to look at probably the most rugged face in the Realm.
Stryder knew that the only man to fit this description was the outlaw Mistingritis Ceruleo of High Coast.
It was said that there was no man who had soared as high as Mistingritis after falling. He had a ram horned bascinet clutched between his right arm and his waist, an axe occupied the other one.
Stryder felt strange that the Companies were in no scarcity of weapons, but only a few sported protective gear. Not a lot of men had the guts to come armed but not armored into a strange castle.
This only made Stryder admire the mercenary more.
Although, Stryder did not firmly believe in archetypes, he would definitely project Mistingritis as one for what people would call a perfect commander
