'Bite their ankles off!'

Celebrated motto of the Gallant Dogs mercenary company -one of many, usually attributed to the mercenary officer known as 'El Capitan'. The latter, a typical style moniker within the brotherhood of soldiers of fortune, given to those members, who managed –or survived long enough, to rise up the officers' ranks and in this case, eventually lead the whole outfit.

Cornelius Wilde

The Recruit

Part I

-The right choice-

-

Winter,

The second month of 196 NC,

An hour after Midnight,

'Operation Main Market' -first day,

The freezing and flooded Chinos River south shores.

Issir forces land under the overhang facing the North Tower, right between Kaltha's Capital's docks at the North Gates and the barricaded Naval Yards at the canal feeding the central moat.

"THERE!" Someone yelled, sounding the alarm.

Never a good thing, if you're trying to infiltrate a big castle of sorts.

The alert guard flung the lit torch over the parapet as soon as he spotted them and the darn thing bounced off of the lid of a closed barrel then splashed inside an open one. It caused the grease-filled barrel to detonate with a prolonged hiss. Huge flames soared high and placed nearby barrels cracked, sending burning oil to splatter against the walls of the vast warehouse.

Turned the dark night into day.

TWANG!

One of the two installed Scorpios rotated and shot at the group rounding the corner of the blazing structure, accompanied by several Khanate archers, while the crossbow-wielding members of the Gold Contract unleashed bolts in quick succession towards the parapets, and the Desert Crows charged at the base of the walls with their ladders. Cornelius, soaked and chilled to the bone, could hear the Old Dogs already clashing with the soldiers stationed at the Docks, and soon their comrades would have had to confront more enemies approaching from the North Gates.

"NOW! Gods damn it! Huibert, you slug! Get moving!" bellowed the officer from Lesia, Sergeant Masin, brandishing his blade to urge everyone to follow the Desert Crows. More torches were thrown towards them, followed by arrows and the much larger bolts from the Scorpios. Projectiles rained down on the poorly lit ground. "YOU CUCKS HAVE ONE PLAGUING CHANCE!"

Well, then we're fucked because that chance has come and gone!

"Shit. I knew the big bonus came wit baggage. Let's go, mate," his friend Brody Hoovers urged as they both leaped out of cover to sprint towards the towering walls, just as a bolt whizzed over their heads. It struck the corner of the building behind them, sending mortar, bricks, and shattered beams raining down on them. A nearby mercenary caught fire and bolted back towards the river, his screams cutting through the chaos stirred by the awakening guards.

Cornelius jumped over a mercenary bleeding out, hesitating to check whether he was dead, but Brody shoved him forward and raised his shield over both their heads. Arrows clattered all about them, men shrieked in pain and Cornelius decided that having that second beer had been a colossal mistake.

Nah, the beer was fine.

It was that fucking shot of whiskey that had messed him up.

"Fuck this. I'm out," a mercenary swore and he retreated, only to be struck in the face by an arrow, his dented helm flying back and clattering to the snow-covered ground.

"We need to climb the ladders!" Cornelius yelled and rushed near the Desert Crows, who had already started ascending the walls. "It's safer up there," he added through his teeth and the first Issir that reached the hanging crenelated parapets was speared through the neck by a Khanate guard and dropped silently from the top, his body crashing two meters from the two young friends.

The sound of body parts crushing and turned into an amorphous pulp, forced both mercenaries to leap for the busy ladders, right after the Desert Crows.

-

Several months back,

Last month of summer,

Colle

Cornelius Wilde sighed and walked out of his father's smithy. Well, the workshop was a ruin, the roof burned and collapsed, along two of the walls. What was left had been thoroughly looted by friends and foes of various ethnicities. His father had died in 193 saddened by his mother's passing of the White Fever the previous year. The old man had left the business to Cornelius and his longtime business partner, but while the young man was on his way to Riverdor, the Khan's army had landed, Joseph had been killed and the family workshop got destroyed in the battles that had followed.

"Anything?" Brody asked, holding a straw barrel's round lid over his head, in order to protect himself from the sun. "What is that?"

"A sword," Cornelius replied climbing over the debris to the workshop's yard to reach near his friend. "Whatever is left of it that is."

"Any sign of Joseph?" Brody queried examining the blackened blade. "Eh, obviously not."

"They killed him in the street," Cornelius replied with a grimace. "I need to give this to Agnes."

"Does it worth anything? We are low on coin ourselves and Agnes found work at the Miller's."

"We've got no coin," Cornelius grunted in frustration. "How did that job go?" He had given Brody all he had the previous week. Searching for a job inside the devastated Colle had proven futile.

"Yeah, about that," Brody replied crooking his mouth. "It didn't go well."

"Brody," Cornelius said warningly.

"We need to leave," his friend elucidated. "Is what I'm saying."

Cornelius stood on the street to watch the people trying to extract anything of value from the ruins. Several houses had started renovations though and the market started working fully after Schalk's marines had arrived.

"Why?" Cornelius asked tiredly, still affected by the devastation he'd witnessed. "Where?"

"Ole Olaf Kvist wants his money back," Brody said with another grimace. "Even standing here, is dangerous."

"Didn't you pay him?" They had borrowed a sum some years back in order to journey to Riverdor.

"I took a risk," Brody sighed. "It seemed like a good deal. Obviously it wasn't. Let's start walking."

A frustrated Cornelius followed after the half-sprinting Brody through the streets. "Where are we going?"

"Ahm… there's a rich merchant caravan leaving in about an hour. The word on the streets is Desmond Boss freed Jaw Castle and promised Baron Sigurd Bach work for all destitute Colle citizens. We are in the latter category… ehem," Brody told him after clearing his throat twice. Once at the beginning and once at the end of his words.

They had exited the town near the coastline's north-heading road and slowed down after the several wagons gathered there. They were headed towards Jaw Castle, with thrice that number flooding the middle road out of the 3Roads junction prepared to head out towards the capital.

"What kind of work? Boss treats his employees brutally," Cornelius grunted and Brody turned around to stare into his face.

"You wield a sword skillfully, and I know my way around a bow," Brody stated, raising his hands to silence Cornelius when the latter attempted to argue against the ridiculousness of his claim, whilst still gripping that charred blade. "Now I know, no honorable knight could be swayed in Riverdor, and the First Foot expelled us, but the Adventurers Guild seemed more welcoming, as did the mercenaries. Two meals we had there… for free!"

"Brody, the former merely seek individuals to pay their high membership dues and don't give a shit whether you perish hunting a Cockatrice or a wild old-chicken, while the latter have a far worse reputation!" Cornelius retorted, lowering his voice to avoid drawing attention and further risking their safety from Kvist's roaming thugs.

"Don't be so cynical," Brody counselled him.

"I'm not being cynical," Cornelius shot back. "I've lost my family and my home in just two years!"

"You've always dreamed of traveling and exploring the realm," Brody countered.

"Not like this, you fool!" Cornelius growled.

"Claus Sondergaard & Sons," Brody said with a serious tone. "The merchant family. He's in need of a few strong men skilled with weapons to protect his mules. He'll make a stop at Jaw Castle, and we can check in with Desmond Boss there before heading to Eagleport."

"There are Khanate soldiers in Eagleport!" Cornelius reminded him, his face twisted in frustration.

"Pfft. The armies shall drive them out," Brody reassured him. "The Khan is done."

"Done," Cornelius retorted standing back and Brody nodded slowly, his round Issir face a picture of pure sureness. It was how Brody had gotten him to agree with the loan from Kvist. The motherfucker was too-believable in his bullshit.

Cornelius should have known given his old friend's poor track record, nothing was further from the truth.

A month later,

Eagleport,

Desmond Boss' second camp outside the walled port.

Castalor army's supply trains gathering area and road market.

"There's no dislodging them," Kevin Koovert assured them, the Castalor Sergeant-at-arms resting at the camp after a 'minor accident'. "Timor is playing hide and seek with Sir Cramer over Eagle's Bridge and 'el Jefe major'," Sergeant Kevin paused to look at Cornelius, then added. "Mister Desmond Boss."

"Right," Cornelius murmured as he'd understood the moniker. The mercenaries had a tendency to over-inflate their titles and there were people that actually bought into their bullshit. "I noticed, he's rather well-established here. Built a whole village outside the port and all."

"Absolutely. They won't be able to dislodge Mister Boss also," Kevin agreed and combed his goatee with three fingers. "But taking the port won't happen without local naval supremacy and not before the winter is over. Boss told us that we may not penetrate too far into the port, but he'll defend like hell every single meter of ground."

They both stared at the falling rain that had flooded the street for a long silent moment, interrupted by a laden donkey protesting in the middle of it.

"He doesn't need more men you say," Cornelius finally noted and Sergeant Koovert nodded.

"You need to find a tent though, unless you lads follow the road and head to the other bridge, near Scaldingport's lines. They might need men there given the losses they've taken."

"I don't like the sound of that," Cornelius grunted and moved his right leg to allow the water to drip down his pants easier. "Nor favor working under a Crow."

"The new Duke is alright," Kevin assured him.

"Not what I heard," Cornelius retorted.

"Well, I was trying to lift your spirits," the sergeant-at-arms snickered. "You lads look alright. If you can stay a couple of days, I'll take you along near Sir Cramer. A Crow, but a Desert Crow. Tough, but he has served with Castalor lads afore like Mads Struder."

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"We're from Colle," the returning near them Brody corrected him and Kevin nodded, as if it made little difference.

"Sondergaard is moving his wares to Reinut's Bridge," Brody explained ten minutes later whilst they were wandering in the muddy roads of the market. Boss controlled half the city, but Mutobo's marines kept receiving supplies from the Khanate fleet that dominated the river Delta and the gulf's waters. "Agreed to let us tag along for no pay."

"Are you serious?" Cornelius protested. "He barely paid us in the first place! For crying out loud!"

"Nothing happened on the road Lee. Safe passage, he said," Brody expounded, using the childish moniker of their youth.

"That's not how caravan guards are paid, you fool!" Cornelius roared as he'd gotten hungrier under the steady downpour of the last couple of hours.

"He'll provide horses for the journey," Brody insisted and stared in Cornelius eyes all-serious. "One meal per day."

"Two and a beer."

"Forget about it," Brody retorted with a grimace. "We might have to walk."

"Fine," the drained Cornelius gave in with a weary sigh.

-

Ten days later

Corn Fields settlement

Issir's Eagle

The rain had ceased, and Cornelius emerged from the sheltered pavilion, observing as the soldiers maneuvered the enormous trebuchet back into position. Moving the machine was no simple feat, nor was operating it, requiring the efforts of at least twenty men alongside the engineers.

He looked about for Brody, who had gone to scour the growing market surrounding the camps for info 'and job opportunities', and spotted his disheveled friend return. After many weeks on the road and despite getting soaked frequently from the seasonal rains, they both stunk like wayward dogs and looked more like beggars than hired-blades when they arrived at the capital's grounds. Cornelius wanted to use his last coin to get a room in the 'tavern' erected near the market stands, but apparently he'd only enough 'for a shave' and no bath, according to the dour Issir owner, a Mister Slager.

Cornelius had taken the offer, shaved his face inside the latrine cabin and cleaned up his body as best he could, before the tavern maid came in and took the bucket of foul water from him. Now he wasn't as dirty, but still wore dirty clothes and was cold on top.

"Why are you smiling?" Cornelius asked Brody, when the latter reached him. Brody had his father's bow over the right shoulder, but no arrows in the old quiver. Not that Brody was any good with the darn thing, and still carried Cornelius ruined sword at his hip, 'because it's better than nothing.'

"I met a girl," Brody said quickly. "She'll be at the tavern."

"That was no plaguing tavern!" Cornelius grunted irate. "You were supposed to look for work damn it."

"She'll pay us."

"For what? Is she rich?" A stunned Cornelius retorted.

"A Cofol lass. You haven't seen the likes," Brody made a face and Cornelius went to slap the stupid grin off of it. "Hey, you philistine! She must be rich. Them slant-eyed lasses are merchants and shit."

"She might just be a spy for the Khanate too," Cornelius grunted.

"Why does it matter to you?" Brody shot back, then let out a sigh. "Obviously, we care and remember what happened to Agnes' father, but a bastard's coin is still a coin."

"The saying goes, coin has no father!" Cornelius growled.

"Green tomato, red tomato… whatever," Brody shrugged nonchalantly, again murdering the common expression.

"Are you really sure she's not a whore?"

"Well, you still have a bit of coin left—"

"Not anymore!" Cornelius exploded, puffing out his chest, then stood back ravaged by a shiver. "Damn it, this breeze is chilling me to the bone! Where are you going?" He cursed as he watched Brody saunter down the market stalls.

"The tavern?" Brody elucidated patiently. "Pretty girls, wit arousing accents don't live on trees!"

Grow on trees you blasted buffoon!

"That's the wrong fucking way," Cornelius snapped in frustration, then turned around to head back to Mister Slager's wooden structure.

The Cofol girl wore a lovely hemp dress, her hair neatly styled in a bun beneath a large straw hat, and she had boots on her feet. Her exotic features were adorned with makeup, though not as heavily as her friend, the second Cofol girl standing outside the tavern, who appeared several years older.

The looks from the tavern's patrons ranging from dirty to outright hostile for the odd pair of females.

"I'm Nita O' Ola-Saab. Most call me Nita Ola. It means strong wood in my tongue," the exotic dame greeted them with an embarrassingly deep curtsy, mimicked by her friend. Cornelius kicked Brody's leg, the manically grinning at Nita's comment young Issir was about to speak, in order to shut him up before they made fools of themselves. "Mister Brody," she continued with a blink at Brody's abrupt howl of pain and turned to Cornelius.

"Cornelius Wilde. It's a family name," he told her with a grimace. She was disturbingly pretty for sure, but also the opposite of soft. This petite girl was tough as nails.

"Are men in your family wild, Mister Cornelius?" She probed –making a quip out of his name- but Cornelius' blank stare forced her to change subject. "We could talk in the tavern. Over a beer."

"Better to speak here," the freshly penniless Cornelius mumbled with a blush. At nineteen years, he hadn't exactly known too-many pretty women and those at Riverdor, were ranging from difficult to approach for a country boy to outright dangerous.

"What for? I was going to have a beverage and pay for a meal," Nita insisted.

"We could use a meal," the recovered Brody said and glanced at Cornelius knowingly.

"Of course. On me then?" Nita asked teasingly, or it was her accent that made everything sound weird. Cornelius went to refuse, as it was rather embarrassing to whore themselves out for a plate of food. He was certain this was where the meeting was going. Eplas folk were depraved to the bone. "Pork chops and decent beer, is the best you'll do around here," she added and Cornelius stomach growled in protest, defeating his embarrassment.

"We'll sample what Slager has to offer," he managed to say and the reeking Brody pushed past him to shamelessly follow the far nicer-smelling Cofol females inside the tavern.

For fuck's sake!

Slager wasn't happy to see him again. The tavern owner watched them take one of the tables, slightly standing on uneven legs on the dirt floor and approached when they sat down. "Miss Nita," the tavern owner said, before he addressed the second very-silent female. "Sati."

"We'll have a plate with pork cuts, Master Slager," Nita said. "And three large goblets of beer."

"Uhm," Slager murmured looking at Cornelius unsure.

"Put it on our tab," Nita added with a smile and the Issir nodded with a crook of his mouth.

"Alright then. Pork on coal coming up," he said and went towards the open kitchen area, located at the back of the structure.

"Isn't she going to have anything?" Cornelius asked Nita looking at Sati. "Or sit down?"

"No. She won't of course," she replied and removed her hat carefully. "For Sati is used to standing."

"Aha," Cornelius grimaced.

"I understand you are roaming warriors," Nita said breaking the uncomfortable silence after she gave the straw hat to Sati to hold. "Seeking employment."

"You run a caravan?" Cornelius queried and she chuckled, pausing for a moment to allow Slager to place the large foam-covered goblets on the table.

"You are good with a sword, Cornelius?" Nita asked and Brody put down his goblet, foam covering his mouth, in order to reply.

"He's good with it."

"Not really," Cornelius argued with a glare at his friend.

"Good enough to fight for the Duke?" Nita probed.

"The pay is lousy," Cornelius retorted trying not to appear too-desperate. "And they can't support more soldiers at this point. Folk are sleeping in the mud in them fields."

"Would you take a job for more than double the pay?" Nita asked. "And a warm tent, beyond the big bridge?"

"For sure," Brody blurted out afore Cornelius had the time to think about it. Not that he opposed to the notion, but the situation was weird, even if the beer was decent. Slager came at this point with a large platter of sizzling in its fats pork and placed it in the middle of their table.

"Let's eat first," Nita offered, with a teasing smile. "Talk business later."

"So," Cornelius began, enthusiastically chewing on the incredibly salty meat –not that he was complaining. "What exactly is this well-paying job?"

"It's the same as the job the Duke is offering," Nita answered. "Better pay, housing included, plus weapons, travel expenses, and a solid pension after two terms."

"Ha! That sounds great! Arglh..." Brody laughed mid-swallow, nearly choking himself and erupting into a violent cough, before downing the rest of his beer down in order to clear his throat.

"How much is the pay?" Cornelius inquired.

"One gold per week," Nita clarified. "Another beer?"

No.

"Yeah," Brody croaked from his seat, and Cornelius yielded with a contemplating nod.

"Another round of beers and three shots of whiskey, Mister Slager," Nita ordered confidently.

"You are talking mercenary work," Cornelius noted and she opened her black, nicely painted eyes wide.

"Of course," she agreed, yet again using her favorite word. "With the most famed of all companies. The Gallant Dogs."

"Eh?" Brody mumbled and then burped. "I heard of them."

Cornelius wasn't as familiar with the outfit. "From where?"

"The Queen brought them with her from Eplas. I heard about them back in Colle. They fought at Even Fork," Brody explained, already feeling the effects of the strong beer. Slager brought the shots and smacked them on the table.

"How does a mercenary company know the Queen of Kaltha?" Cornelius asked and Nita raised her small glass with a coy smile.

"Perhaps the Queen visited a similar tavern. Bottom's up, Mister Cornelius," she said and downed the shot of whiskey, prompting them to do the same. "It warms up the body. Does it not?" Nita queried with an elegant cough and smiled yet again.

It burned your throat it did, Cornelius thought and blinked trying not to be affected by the Cofol girl's blatant flirting manners.

"What is it to you?" He croaked, trying to wash his mouth with more beer. "How long is a spell?"

"Five years," Nita replied and signaled for Sati to give her the hat back, the buzz of the tavern dull in Cornelius' ears, who felt the soothing effects of alcohol and warm food already. "Will you show me your sword, Cornelius?" She probed teasingly.

"Not at this moment," he replied with a blink.

"Are you nuts?" Brody guffawed and slapped his back. "He will. We are in agreement, Nita."

"No, we are not," Cornelius argued and a rough voice cut through the noise of the tavern.

"What is this malarkey, I'm witnessing?" The man barked from the entrance and a tall, tanned Northman approached their table. "What are you two rascals doing with my slaves?"

"Johnny," Nita said standing while the two Issirs turned to face the newcomer.

"Hey," Brody grunted standing up as well. "That wasn't very polite Johnny." Cornelius stood up as well, immediately noticing the angry man was armed. He'd a sword strapped at his waist.

"Who is this foul-smelling clown?" Johnny barked irate and shoved Brody back. The slightly-inebriated man all but crashed on their table. "Fucking with a man's slaves is a serious offence you sons of bitches!" He added with a warning glare at Cornelius, who had attempted to grab him.

"We were having a meal," Cornelius started, with Johnny interrupting him abruptly.

"Did you pay for it?"

"Well, no we didn't," Cornelius mumbled and the patrons chuckled at the scene.

"What am I to make of this then?" The angry Northman growled.

"They just joined the company, Johnny," Nita explained sweetly.

"You expect me to believe this drivel, you vile Termagant?"

What?

"We did!" Brody croaked stumbling to his feet.

"Aha! He admits it. It's a deal!" Johnny grunted and stood back pleased.

"No we didn't. He's drunk," Cornelius argued and the Northman glared his way annoyed. "What does that mean?"

"I worship the Moon," Nita explained coyly.

"You are eager to see the real realm then, eh?" Johnny asked, now completely calm and jovial.

Is this a blasted ploy? Cornelius wondered with a grimace of worry. "As I said," he started, with the Northman cutting him off abruptly.

"Let's take this outside," Johnny said and grabbed both younger men by the shoulders to lead them out of the tavern. "Slager, you'll get paid at the end of the month!"

"You made the right choice," the now much friendlier Johnny said, placing his hands on their shoulders. "Most men your age don't, ha-ha! They know how to fight, sneaky harlot?" He checked with Nita, who had followed them outside alongside the silent Sati.

"Of course," Nita responded with a graceful curtsy.

Cornelius opened his mouth to protest, but a rough-looking figure emerged from a group of miserable men blocking the road. He was better-armored, wielding a sword, and bore the marks of battle with a nasty cut across his face whilst missing a piece of his ear.

"Hardwood got damn it!" the newcomer grunted, his expression as furious as the Northman's had been moments earlier. "We've been searching for you!"

"I'm working, Masin," Johnny shot back, attempting to keep the atmosphere friendly.

"In the plaguing tavern?" Masin bellowed. Cornelius noted that the stout Lorian had a peculiar accent and quickly realized he wasn't from Regia.

"Got some new recruits," Hardwood explained, with a reassuring look at the two friends watching the exchange.

"Get them in line then!" Masin barked thoroughly unimpressed.

"We did it," Brody told the grimacing Cornelius.

Cornelius didn't like any of this.

"Come on mate, we're in!" Brody insisted seeing his sour expression.

"Shut up!" Masin growled at his smiling friend. "Get in with them others, you smelly cretin! The Queen is visiting and they'll cut off the road back to camp! We might have to sleep on the road by the time she moves out."

"Eh, start marching," Hardwood retorted with a shrug. "The Queen is already past the bridge. The road is open again."

"The Queen is here?" Brody asked the still numb at the development Cornelius and greeted one of the recruits standing in the sixth and final row with them. "Hello mate, I'm Brody."

"Hey there," the young Issir replied in a friendly manner. "I'm Huibert from Eagleport."

"Nobody cares! Get yer pansy arses moving! Blasted rain is starting again, damn it!" An irate Masin barked and they started marching down the road, made a turn to join the main route out of the market and this brought the walls of the capital in view for them.

The still stunned at the turn of events Cornelius, took a moment to gaze at the enormous siege engine, which appeared minuscule against the towering walls at the summit of the gentle slope. Beyond the army's formation in the field, a grand entourage could be seen, proudly displaying the purple and silver Eagle banners.

"The Queen," someone remarked as if he could see the Queen from that far, but still his clearly awed exclamation, caused their marching procession to come to a standstill. Naturally, this development did not please the irritable Sergeant Masin, and Cornelius seized the moment, thinking it might be a good chance to escape their dire situation. Despite what Johnny Hardwood, Nita Ola, or even Brody seemed to believe, Cornelius wasn't as convinced this was the right life-choice for them. So he decided to air his grievances again given the opportunity and sort the mess out.

As it happened, he didn't.

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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