Harold decided that going back to the village on foot was for the best. Using Atlas as both his riding horse and his war mount was already pushing it, riding him now after battle would make Harold a slave driver. With how close some of the troll's attacks came to hitting them, it was an incredible feat of loyalty (and bloodlust) for Atlas to not bolt on him. He'd make sure to handsomely reward the stallion later, especially so now that he finally had a few coin to his name. Maybe he'd even get a bonus.
He was looking forward to having some spiced wine. No, he was not feeling all giddy to be able to afford something as simple as drinks again. It was merely an after battle high is all, nothing unnatural for any warrior.
A flare of pain in his shoulder snaps him out of his bright mood, he'd probably have to rest it for at least a week before he could take on another contract. A shame too, he felt like he could take on an ant nest by himself. But there was a thin line between pride and utter foolishness, and going into battle injured was clearly the latter.
Now that his thoughts weren't caught up with sharing wine with a pretty girl, his attention is pulled by the jingling of metal in his satchel. He was taught to respect the fallen, and he was able to recover some items that could be used for a burial. Mostly metal and wooden carvings bearing intricate designs likely belonging to mercenary bands and semi-noble houses. He counted 9 in total. He wasn't kind enough to weep for them, but at least he could allow their families to do so and hoped someone would do the same should he be the one to fall in the future.
He suddenly remembers that among the carvings is his own ring that he's been trying his best to ignore for the last month. He brings it out to twirl in his hands as he walks. It was a masterful piece of jewelry. A silver body decorated by gold trimmings depicting the Lyon coat-of-arms made up its base while a brilliant red ruby was encrusted on top. He's been too afraid to put it on. The ruby shined only for the honored members of house Lyon. If his father went through on his threat of disinheriting him, it would shine for him no longer.
His somber mood lasts until his arrival at the village, the news of his victory is met with as much cheer and celebration that such a small community could reasonably muster, that being a big hearty meal and some drinks to go along with it. Truthfully, Harold found the food to be somewhat bland, but that was to be expected, and the cheers of the villagers more than made up for it.
The humble celebration continued until evening, when Harold decided to head home despite the people's invitation to stay the night; his new cabin was too close to warrant a stay. He also wished to collect his reward as soon as possible, and he did so on the way back.
He received his promised 5 gold along with a bonus 1 after he reported the irregular nature of the troll. He decided to leave the carvings of the fallen with a council official at the guild for them to be identified. The man smiled and promised to pray for his safety.
It was almost dark by the time he arrived at the farmstead; the homes of the farmers were lit with soft glows of candlelight and the occasional sounds of laughter filled the fields between them. He could also see that some buildings were without light or sound, even if there were clear signs of them once being lived in, his own cabin among them.
Thomas was unsaddling his horse when Harold came to the stables, the old knight had his harness on. "Good evening, Sir Thomas. I'm surprised you're out in your armor so late. I had assumed that you were retired."
Thomas slightly bows his head in greeting. "Sir Harold. Your assumption wouldn't be wrong, I retired years ago. I don my harness and circle the area every evening before sunset as a show of force to bandits, to remind them that challenging the knight of Speyer is a grave mistake that hundreds have made but never had the chance to repeat. It's also good for Charlotte to get some exercise in, old as she may be. A good warhorse shouldn't wither away in the stables"
Harold also unsaddles Atlas as they speak, after which he begins to groom him. The stallion deserved at least that much for fighting so hard today. He made sure to buy plenty of treats, he didn't know what Atlas liked so he decided to buy one of everything.
"Does it not get tiring? To patrol your territory everyday, that is"
"Sometimes, but I'm barely into my fifties. I'll find a squire eventually, but until then? A little exercise won't kill me."
"Don't most knights find a squire in their thirties?"
"They do, but I wasn't always a knight. I first joined the reserve as a scout. I was merely a sixteen-year-old stableboy somewhat capable of riding and that was apparently enough for the recruiter. I was only granted knighthood after reaching forty, when I retired from the reserve"
Harold's eyes widened in surprise "Do all reserve soldiers retire that early?" he asked
"All cavalry except higher ranking officers do. Council organized exterminations are a brutal affair, especially so for heavy cavalry. Taking on an ant nest in its entirety is near impossible, we simply kill its queens before retreating, the rest of the swarm will be gone within a few years. Such operations require an unprecedented amount of reconnaissance and secrecy, to prevent the swarm at large from converging in defense of its nest, meaning the cavalry has to make sure not a single scouting party reaches the main body of the army"
Harold considers the older man's words for a moment. An extermination army would number in the tens of thousands at a minimum, such a massive force along with its supply lines would be easily noticed by any scouting party heading in the general direction of the army. Even if you were to arm every man capable of riding in the Arlon frontier region the cavalry would still be stretched thin trying to keep the fog of war up.
"But shouldn't that incentivize the council to have as many capable riders as possible? Isn't letting cavalrymen retire so early counterproductive to that?"
"Heh, being retired from the reserve just means not participating in daily drills or skirmishes. If an extermination is being organized, I wouldn't truly have the option of backing out. I could still be called upon at any moment, until the age of 65 retirement is merely the council's way of avoiding paying your salary" Thomas said.
"Frontier politics may have far less intrigue in comparison to inner region courts, but it's ten times as decisive and a hundred times as deadly to make up for it"
Thomas makes a grim face with a haunted look in his eye "Tens if not hundreds of thousands of soldiers could be sent to their death at the snap decision of a garrison general. Joachim is proof enough of that, the elven clans may not have been officially a part of the garrison but they were integral to the history and defense of the entirety of the Altena frontier. Then there is the purge of bureaucrats that happened merely a year before the massacre, what could drive someone to such madness I don't know, but considering Joachim is still breathing its clear politics had something to do with it."
Harold ponders to himself once more. 'It seems just about everyone is in agreement that Joachim needs to be executed'. The more he heard about the Arlon general the more he was shocked by the fact that the man hasn't been replaced yet. He was taught that the council had very little corruption, the militaristic nature of the entire governing body meant that any sign of bribery was met with brutal crackdowns, and it was difficult to take advantage of the common man when the majority of the people in question were career soldiers.
Thomas seems to have noticed his contemplative expression. "Well, don't bother yourself too much with it. There's not much we could do either way. You should go rest that arm as soon as possible, I can tell you've injured it. I'm surprised you're fighting anything that could get through enchanted plate, you fought a drake or something?".
"It was a troll"
"A troll? Ha, must've been one hell of a troll to catch someone off guard like that. Are you sure you didn't just trip?"
Harold was somewhat annoyed by the teasing, "Shouldn't you go rest old man? You might not be able to get up tomorrow if you don't get out of that armor soon"
Thomas grins as he turns to leave "Watch your tongue brat, little children shouldn't be saying such things to their elders". He's gone before Harold could get one final comment in.
Harold sighs in exasperation. It seemed like there's something about frontier veterans and snark. He hoped he wouldn't join their ranks in a few decades.
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Harold got up at the first sign of light the next day, he had much to do now that he had a few gold pieces to work with. He dug through his belongings to find a set of clean clothes just to remember that he didn't own any, he's been living in his harness for nearly a month. Maybe Vannols' comment on him being a golem had some merit after all.
Surprisingly enough, both Thomas and Evelin were also up and outside. He supposed that rural folk worked with very different clocks than those from the city. "Good morning, Sir Thomas, Lady Evelin".
"Good morning!" Evelin replied with a bright smile on her face.
"Good morning, I know you said you don't get tired walking around in your armor all day. But do you really need to have it on before breakfast? Surely you aren't heading out to slay anymore trolls at this time of day" Thomas said with utter exasperation. Harold responds with an awkward laugh.
"Trust me, I'm working on it"
The veteran eyes him skeptically for a moment before sighing and heading towards the other tenants' cabins, likely to get them up for the day of work ahead.
"Lady Evelin, do you have anything planned for the day ahead?" he asked.
She seemed surprised by the question "Not particularly, why?"
"I was planning to head into Alanfer today, I was just wondering if you would be willing to show me around"
She responds the moment he finishes "I'd love to! I'll go ask father for permission" Evelin runs off faster than Atlas to catch up with Thomas.
With how far away he was Harold couldn't hear what was actually being said, but he could tell the general progress of the conversation. Denial from Thomas, Evelin gets angry… Now she appears to be begging… Thomas glares in his direction before finally relenting.
Evelin runs back with a huge smile on her face. "It took the puppy eyes but father finally bent the knee. He said we could take the wagon and the workhorses there."
"Quite gracious of him, hopefully I didn't cause too much conflict. It wouldn't do for family to argue because of my selfish request" The hypocrisy of his statement wasn't lost on him.
"Don't worry about it, father is being overprotective is all. We needed to make a supply trip to the city anyway, I can show you around the markets while we're there"
"Thank you, Lady Evelin"
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It was the first time Harold was driving a wagon; it was somewhat awkward to control two work horses at once. War horses were temperamental, they were trained to kick and bite on command but riding them often meant a constant struggle for control.
Riding horses were much calmer and were always an absolute joy to ride. To an experienced rider like Harold it sometimes felt as though some horses were trained to be entertainers.
From his very limited experience of driving a wagon, work horses appeared to be stoic, reliable and obedient. He'd say they'd make excellent war mounts, but they were a little slow due to their size and he didn't fancy doing the splits while fighting.
Atlas on the other hand was the perfect mount. He was calm while travelling yet unflinching in battle, obedient to a fault and had a near endless well of stamina. Even if Atlas was much smaller than work horses, he knew he'd put his money on Atlas being stronger (No, he totally wasn't biased). Harold had to thank God for blessing him with such a mount when he had simply grabbed the first horse saw in the stables while running from home.
'Heh, look at me thinking about horses while a comely flower sits next to me. I suppose the frontier has a way of changing people'
"Lady Evelin, I realize now that I know very little of you. Would you be willing to enlighten me?"
A thoughtful look crossed her face. "About myself? Truth be told, I don't know if there's much to share. Unlike you and father I've hardly ever travelled, I've spent my entire life cooped up in the farmstead with the occasional trip to Alanfer. Father's always been very protective of me"
"May I ask if there's a reason why he seems so reluctant to let you out? You're seventeen right? That means you reached adulthood a year ago" As a third son he's always been let off easier in comparison to his older brothers. He was sent off to live and learn by himself upon reaching fifteen and he's been free to travel through the dukedom of his family as he pleases even since.
"It didn't used to be as bad, he once promised to take me on an adventure and show me the world when I reached fifteen but… my mother was killed in a bandit raid four years ago and…" She goes quite soon after, unable to finish her sentence.
"I'm sorry, it was insensitive of me to ask"
"No, don't worry about it. It was a long time ago. What about you? Your family I mean."
"Both of my parents are alive, I have two older brothers and a younger sister but… I never really got to spend time with them. Both of my brothers were personal wards of my father while my sister was personally tutored by my mother as the only daughter. I was free to do whatever I wanted and I was rarely included in courtly matters. I'd say I was neglected but… I guess in many ways I was the one to push away my siblings. I was never a good brother, now that I think about it… I ran from home, a month ago" Harold expected Evelin to be angry. It would be completely reasonable. She had lost her mother to tragedy, and here he was running away from the very thing that was taken away from her by force.
The rage he was waiting for never arrives. Instead, Evelin looks at him with a smile, yet her eyes undoubtedly hold a deep sadness within. "You should go back someday. We don't get to pick who we were born to, but the family we're given is the only one we'll ever have"
Silence falls after that, until Harold responds with a resolute nod. He thought he could see the slightest bit of happiness shine through Evelin's sad eyes at his response. The girl he was sitting next to was truly a saint.
After a long moment spent pondering, Harold finally builds up the courage to take out the ring of his house. He puts it on with bated breath and…
A soft red glow can be seen. The edges of Harolds' mouth turn ever so slightly upwards to form a small smile.