Chapter 19 : Lupulus

Chapter 19

Lupulus

The sun had not yet turned orange when the Arvenians finally secured the battlefield. Anci had already returned and sent a few riders out on patrol. Hugo took charge of the captured men for interrogation, while the others stripped the dead of better gear and whatever trinkets they could find. Anything of real value was handed over to Thomas for safekeeping.

Seated atop a large rock, Lansius busied himself tending both hands. Something had struck his right thumb during the fighting and crushed the nail inward. He wrapped it tightly to ease the throbbing pain. At least that one he could deal with. His left palm was worse. A splinter of wood had gone in deep.

Darn it! Wish I had a tweezer, even a flimsy one.

Done with the interrogation, Hugo met up with Lansius and gathered the rest. “Bogdan, the caretaker of the place, is amongst the dead," he reported.

A wave of relief was on everyone’s face. They felt victory was within grasp. Naturally, all agreed to storm the compound. Despite the risk, the fear that the slavers might retaliate against their loved ones drove them to attack.

Lansius knew that Anci and Hugo would storm the manor regardless of his decision, for the two were looking for a far more important prize, the future Lord of Arvena. This made him wary. “Thomas, get the wounded somewhere cool and safe. Start a fire and boil some water. Treat their wounds if you could.”

Old Thomas nodded readily. He cared for the men and was happy to oblige.

Next, Lansius looked at Calub. “Can I ask you to go with Thomas?”

“I need to warn you that my knowledge of medicine is limited,” Calub said.

“We have no one else. I’m only asking for a bit of cheap wine to clean the wounds, clean linen to wrap them, and some honey for treatment.”

Lansius’s explanation caught Felis’s and Hugo’s attention. They were familiar with the treatment, but Lansius’s confidence was rather unusual.

Calub snorted sharply and asked, “So you’re also well read in medicine?”

“Just a bit . . . oh, and promise me, no bloodletting. Even if they have a fever, don’t draw blood,” Lansius warned sternly.

The alchemist’s shrugged. “I’m not a barber-surgeon. Anything else?”

Lansius offered his hand. “Just wishing you a good luck.”

The two clasped hands. “You too, stay safe," Calub said. Afterward, he departed with Thomas.

Anci, who had stood there patiently, finally stepped forward. “Are we done with the preparation?”

“Pretty much,” Lansius answered.

“So, what’s next?” Hugo asked in anticipation.

Lansius looked him in the eye. “The men are well rested, yes?”

Hugo, Anci, and Felis exchanged glances. “I think the men are ready,” Felis answered.

Lansius lowered his gaze for a moment. The men looked worn, bloodied, and tired, but none of them wavered. He gave a small nod. “Then we move for the summit and take what we came for.”

Anci chuckled and signaled his riders to saddle up. Beside him, Hugo turned to his men and raised his voice. “Gentlemen, time to free your sons and daughters. Move out!”

Only twenty-three Arvenians were still fit to fight, but their answering cry still rang fierce.

***

Manor House

Taunts, shouts, and screams echoed across the courtyard of Sabina Rustica. In their assault, the Arvenians had cleverly used a cart and slanted wooden poles as makeshift ladders. The defenders rushed to contain the breach, throwing their hardiest fighters into the gap.

Leaderless or not, the slavers fought with desperate zeal and might well have held the place, had they not been undone by their own disunity. For all their stubborn resistance, too many had already slipped out through a hidden back door with their gold and silver. That loss of men finally turned the fight in the Arvenians’ favor. The fighting broke apart, then quickly died down as the surviving slavers fled into the manor proper, the last stronghold still standing.

The manor’s usually clean courtyard was now strewn with blood and gore. The last few kept fighting inside the main hall and storage area. Only when they had nowhere left to run did the remaining four yield. The thud of their swords striking the wooden floor marked the end of the slavers’ resistance.

But there was still a different party to reckon with.

“Drop the sword,” Anci demanded, standing tall in blood-stained armor, his broadsword still dripping. They were on the manor’s second floor, facing three guards.

“Easy, we’re not with the slavers,” one of the men in red brigandine said, trying to distance himself from the men in the manor.

Despite the claim, the Arvenians and the three guards continued to stare at one another, each measuring the other in case the standoff turned into a fight.

“Tch—” Anci spat to the side. He glanced around for any other threats before turning to his men. “Someone get Hugo. We’ve got different company here.”

At his order, one of the men rushed downstairs. He passed on the call, and not long after, hurried footsteps echoed through the stone stairwell.

Hugo appeared on the second floor a moment later, his face and hair smeared with blood.

Anci looked at him and snorted. “Someone got you good.”

“Fuck off. ’Tis just a scratch,” Hugo shot back, then turned his gaze to the guards in red.

The one who looked to be the most senior of the guards spoke first. “I know you’re looking for Arvenians, and we understand that. We won’t fight unless you threaten our master.”

“Who’s your liege, and what are you doing here?” Hugo asked.

“Our master is the Baronet of Brunna. He is a visitor, not part of this establishment.”

The name caught Hugo’s attention. “Tough luck. Seems we caught your master with his breeches down.”

“I’m sure we can—”

“It’s a short walk to the gallows for slavers and those who buy from them. Not a road you should take,” Anci cut in.

The three men looked strained and said nothing, but they held their ground in front of the guest chamber.

At last, Hugo gestured for his men to lower their weapons. Then he made his offer to the three guards. “Yield, and we’ll guarantee the safety of both you and your master.”

“Will you hold us for ransom?” the guard asked.

“Nothing too dear for you three. Two goats, or one if you’re poor,” Hugo quipped.

Two of the guards snorted. The joke had come out of nowhere.

“What about my master?” the senior guard asked.

“I can’t decide the fate of a baronet,” Hugo said. “That will be for the nobles to judge.”

The three guards looked at one another, then lowered their swords. “Fair enough,” the senior guard said. He stepped forward and offered his sword to Hugo hilt-first. “We yield on the condition that no harm comes to our lord or to the three of us.”

“I, Squire Hugo, on behalf of Sir Peter, accept." Hugo took the sword.

That exchange marked the end of the fighting in Sabina Rustica. With the matter settled, Hugo and Anci set the men to search the second floor, hoping to find their greatest prize, Arte of Arvena, whose whereabouts were still unknown.

But after a stretch of hard searching, they came up empty.

Amid the Arvenians’ sweep through the manor, Anci, fresh from the master chamber, ran into Hugo again. “Nothing there but signs of looting. You sure there’s no hidden cell downstairs?”

Hugo let out a sharp breath, pressing a clean linen cloth he had found to his forehead. “There’s nothing in the cellar or the storage rooms... Must be outside. There are several suspicious buildings—”

“No, the most suspicious one is the guest chamber,” Anci said, already marching off.

Hugo hurried after him at once, unwilling to go back on his promise to the three guards. “I gave my word.”

“We’ll only check,” Anci reassured him.

When they returned to the guest chamber, they found the guards in red still knocking and calling for their master, to no avail.

“No answer?” Hugo asked from behind Anci.

The senior guard shook his head. “No luck. We explained it’s safe to get out, but . . . ”

Anci snickered. “Is he dead?”

Despite the crude remark, the guard merely sighed and lowered his voice. “I hope not. I have a family to feed.”

Hearing the admission, Anci turned to his men and said, “You. Get me an axe.”

“Umm . . . how about a poleaxe?” A rather young-looking man offered his weapon.

Anci grabbed the poleaxe and found it solid. He smirked. “This will do.”

***

Guest Chamber

Inside the chamber on the second floor, things remained calm. The room had seen better days, but the plaster on the wall still retained its bright color. A cool breeze rushed from a fully opened decorated glass window on the far side. Lacquered furniture completed the fancy look.

Nowadays, guests rarely used the chamber anymore. Decades ago, a potential customer would need to travel to see the wares , but nowadays the slavers had bribed enough officials of the land that they could smuggle their wares directly to the customers. Thus, there was seldom a reason for a visit this manor.

However, three days earlier, a valued customer had arrived on a whim, no less than a baronet. He had brought new company with him, an effeminate wandering bard by the look of him. They had wanted to inspect the wares before deciding on a purchase, and the host had been only too glad to oblige. But now their visit had come to an abrupt end.

A muffled roar from outside, followed by a violent blow, shook the room. The oaken door creaked as splinters flew from it. A dozen more heavy strikes followed, until the edges of the frame began to give way. But the door still held, helped by its rusted hinges.

“Jam it into the gap—”

“We need a chisel!”

“Stand back! Yeaaarrggh!”

The hinges finally burst, and the iron lock tore loose.

Outside stood Anci, the one who had brute-forced the door. He sneezed loudly as wood and plaster dust swirled around him. The room was too quiet to his liking, but that did not stop him. “Yield,” he demanded, casting aside the poleaxe as he drew his stained broadsword.

“You’re too loud,” came the answer.

The tone and the sight dumbfounded Anci.

An effeminate young man sat naked on the bed. His shoulder-length light brown hair swayed by the wind as he filed his fingernails calmly. To his side, a grotesque man lay exposed in an awkward position with mouth foaming.

“Oi, what happened?” Hugo asked from behind. He impatiently shoved Anci aside and saw the young lad. “Who’re you?”

“I’m just a guest here. You must be looking for this big arse?” The naked lad gestured his hand at the grotesque man. “He’s a slave buyer all right, but not the owner.”

The heightened tension and heat caused blood on Hugo’s head to start dripping again. He wiped it off as he approached the bed. Suddenly, his eyes went wide. “That’s the baronet of Brunna.”

“A baronet?” the naked lad asked.

Hugo nodded while ascertaining that the baronet still drew breath.

“Oh, to be taken advantage of by a baronet,” the lad said as if in a play. “I thought he was at least a baron in disguise.”

“Brunna is a wealthy estate. He’s as powerful as a baron.” Hugo felt compelled to explain while he took a piece of cloth and dabbed the reddened sweat from his eyebrows.

“You better get that checked—” The lad's voice was cut off by the appearance of a lady at the door.

Felis held her crossbow in her arms as she went inside. “Oh, my.” She noticed the naked lad and gawked at the beautiful yet masculine body.

“Please pardon my uncouthness, my lady.” The lad jumped from the bed after he had noticed the blonde and made a gentlemanly bow, all without trying to cover his groin. “A most unfortunate circumstance just befell me.”

“Not at all. Please, I’m not a noble,” Felis corrected him. “But . . . you’re Archie, right?” She saw through the heavy makeup.

The name forced Hugo and Anci to do a double-take. As mere squires, they rarely saw Lord Maurice’s son in person. Only now, they began to see the resemblances.

“Ah . . .” The lad’s surprise turned to smile. “You’re the lady from three days ago. Such a good fortune to be blessed with your presence again. But tell me, for what purpose, my lady, are you here in such an unpleasant place, and are these your men?”

Felis nearly grinned. Before they could interact further, someone intruded from outside. “What’s happening? Is my master all right?”

“Oh, he’s fine. Just a bit drunk.” Anci blocked the way and passionately guided the guard out. “Listen, there’s personal stuff happening, totally unrelated to your master. So, grunts like us, we better wait outside.”

Hugo breathed a sigh of relief at Anci’s quick thinking. Afterward, he approached the naked lad and took a knee. “My Lord, I’m Hugo, Sir Peter’s squire. We have come to rescue you.”

“My, to be found by my own retinue. ’Tis is so unexpected.” The lad, no other than Arte of Arvena, stood taller as he straightened his back like a seasoned fighter that he was.

To their side, Felis gathered the scattered clothes and offered them to Arte.

“Gratitude, my lady. And pardon for the sight.”

“Not at all, my lord. I heard it’s a sign of nobility when one isn’t ashamed of their own body.”

Arte chuckled at Felis’s flattering while Hugo readily assisted him to don his clothes.

“Squire, tell me about your master.”

“My master is Sir Ian’s firstborn son.”

“Ah, the old baronet. It seems that the Ancients’ light has not forsaken me.” Arte closed his eyes to gather his thoughts. “I’m indebted to you and your master, but for now, let’s drop the formality. I’m in a poor state, and there are likely assassins coming after me . . . Until I can stand on my two feet, call me Archie, a knight from Arvena.”

Hugo bowed his head and then asked, “Sir Archie, may we ask what happened and why you’re here?”

“It’s a long story. Maybe for some other time.” Archie looked at the man in the bed. “You only need to know that I used this poor excuse of a man to hide from my pursuer. Unknowingly, he kept me safe. But there’s always a catch . . .”

Hugo nodded diligently. Outwardly, he appeared content to serve his newfound lord, but inside, he knew the story didn’t add up. However, there was no reason for a lowly squire like him to pry further.

“So, what did you do to him, Sir Archie?” Felis innocently asked.

“Well, how should I explain . . . this sorry man enjoyed my company, so it’s only prudent to return the favor, no?” Archie let out an innocent smile.

Felis unexpectedly giggled. Meanwhile, Hugo found it hard to digest. “He’s passed out from that?”

Archie laughed but didn’t offer an explanation. “More importantly, now you’ve rescued me. What is your plan?”

Hugo’s back tensed. He should have sought out the black-haired clerk first, but this chance was too good to share. “Sir, I think it’s best we head out at first light tomorrow.”

***

If you find any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.