Chapter 140 Sortie
Dawn had barely broken over Ashridge when Lucien left the manor.
Exchanging nods with the guards at the entrance, he made his way toward the northern palisade through a village that had yet to fully wake. It was a far cry from the tension that had gripped the village yesterday.
Sera had spent the night near the eastern fields again, along the riverbank overlooking the signal fire. The hunter likely would have chosen to sleep there every day if not for Alicia's fussing and Cora's current condition.
At Cora's pleading look, the hunter had settled for camping out every other day instead.
Passing through the sleepy village, he couldn't help but note that more people were walking the same path as him. They were likely relatives of the men chosen, judging by the worried looks on their faces.
Lucien adjusted his cloak idly as he neared the northern gate, where a group of men and horses had already gathered. Even from afar, he could tell there was a sense of nervousness in their motions as they checked their gear.
There were thirteen Ashridge guards, all chosen from those who had performed best with the lever crossbows, along with Marcus, whose horse had a bow and quiver strapped to the saddle.
The household guard looked almost relaxed as he waited for the other men to finish their preparations.
Dorian stood before them, his gaze passing over each man and horse as though searching for anything that might fail once they rode out.
On each horse, a lever crossbow had been slung across the saddle, its dark wooden stock still rough from Harlon's workshop.
The carpenter had been almost reluctant to declare them ready, though Lucien suspected that after the orcs had been dealt with, most of the crossbows would likely make their way back into his hands.
A small crowd had gathered near the northern gate by the time Lucien arrived.
Wives adjusted straps that had already been checked twice. Mothers pressed small bundles of food into reluctant hands. A few children clung to their fathers' legs until older siblings or tired-looking relatives gently pulled them back.
The goodbyes were quiet, spoken in low voices. A woman smoothed the front of her husband's padded coat, her fingers lingering for a moment over the leather ties before she forced herself to step back.
One of the younger guards laughed at something a man beside him said, but the sound came out too thin to be convincing.
It was Dorian who noticed Lucien's approach first. Not wanting to disturb their farewells, Lucien made his way to stand beside the captain without declaring his presence.
Without looking away from the men, Dorian dipped his head. "My Lord."
Lucien returned the gesture. "They seem nervous."
"They are, My Lord. Most of them have only been guards for less than a year," the captain replied, glancing at him. "If not for your reputation, I suspect they would've been far more reluctant to take part in this...especially equipped so poorly."
Lucien folded his arms behind him. "Their armor will just slow them down, though I can't blame them for being hesitant to face orcs with so little protection."
"But if they have to draw their weapons in melee, then something has gone very wrong. Without all that weight dragging them down, they stand a better chance of getting away."
Slowly, Dorian inclined his head. "As you instructed, I chose the ones who were the most balanced. There were a few who had better aim but they fell behind when it came to the riding and reloading drills."
He exhaled faintly. "Henric was disappointed that he could not go despite how well he handled the lever crossbow...I suspect the man had been training in secret at night."
At the mention of the zealous guard, Lucien shook his head. "This plan was meant for Ashridge's guards, Dorian. I can't risk two household guards for this, and Marcus being the only one allows a clear chain of command in the field."
Said household guard glanced in their direction, then gave Lucien an overly theatrical bow, causing Dorian's brow to crease.
Over the last few weeks, Lucien had worked closely with Marcus, and ever since he had told the guard to forgo formalities unless necessary, the man had all but abandoned them, much to the captain's annoyance.
Marcus cleared his throat loudly, and the gathered men paused, noticing Lucien immediately. As their families moved off to the side, the guards turned to give him a salute, their postures stiffening.
Walking closer to them, Lucien raised his hand. "At ease, men. You have a long day ahead of you."
At his words, the men lowered their salutes, though the tension in their shoulders didn't fully leave them. A horse shifted near the end of the line, its rider tightening the reins before it could step too far out of place.
Lucien looked over the line of men. "All of you have been briefed on what to do. Follow Marcus's orders as though they were my own."
He gestured to one of the lever crossbows. "Remember. Your task today isn't to kill any orcs. Do not chase them if they retreat, and if you find yourself separated from the group, follow the smoke trails back toward the village."
Lucien waited for his words to sink in before his eyes met each of them in turn.
"The success of this mission depends on all of you returning without casualties."
Off to the side, several of the villagers had gone still. One woman lowered the hand she had been holding against her mouth, while a young boy clutched at the side of his mother's skirt without understanding why.
"And so, this is my only order for you. Come back alive at all costs. Is that understood?"
The men straightened as one.
"By your command, My Lord!"
As they began mounting their horses, Marcus met Lucien's eyes and gave a small nod while patting one of the saddlebags. Then he swung himself up with an ease that made the motion look almost careless.
Once seated, however, his usual levity faded. He counted the riders once before turning toward the gate.
Dorian gave the gathered riders one final look.
"Open the gates."
The heavy bar was lifted, wood groaning faintly as the guards on duty pulled it inward. Beyond the gap, the road stretched toward the pale morning mist and the darker line of trees beyond it.
As soon as the gates were fully opened, Marcus clicked his tongue softly, guiding his horse forward.
One by one, the riders followed.
Hooves struck the packed earth beneath the gate, then softened as they passed onto the road outside Ashridge. None of the men looked back immediately, though Lucien saw one hand lift briefly from the reins before lowering again.
Behind him, someone let out a breath that sounded almost like a prayer.
Lucien stood where he was, watching as the fourteen figures moved farther from the wall. Only when the last horse had passed beyond the gate did Dorian speak.
"Close it."
The guards pulled the gate shut, then lowered the heavy bar back into place.
Once the sound of the riders' hooves faded, Dorian turned to him.
"The rest of the men will have to be ready as well, My Lord. How much time we have will depend on today's results...and whether Marcus succeeds in his task."
Lucien gave a slow nod. "As long as they aren't all gathered together, he shouldn't have a problem finding an isolated foraging group."
He watched the villagers begin to disperse, returning a few greetings to those who passed by. Even with their loved ones off on a dangerous task, work could not wait.
The captain remained silent when he did so, only speaking after everyone had left. "That sort of potion...Lady Talia must have considerable connections to procure such a thing, My Lord."
At those words, Lucien rubbed his temple. "I didn't even ask her for it. As soon as she learned of the orc threats, she went ahead and bought them...at my expense."
Dorian was about to speak when he stopped himself, his eyes moving to something behind Lucien.
His junior's voice rang out from some distance behind him.
"Lord Lucien! Have they left already?"
Turning around, he saw Talia walking up to him, a small smile on her face.
Coming to a stop near them, she stretched out her hands. "I am surprised you got up in time, Lord Lucien. We stayed up pretty late last night!"
At her words, Dorian coughed into his hand before he spoke. "...I will leave you two to it, My Lord."
Immediately after, the captain moved toward the eastern gate at a noticeably quicker pace than usual.
He was tempted to chase the captain down to tell him it wasn't like that. Instead, he turned to Talia, his brow twitching.
"I take it Dorian's one of those people who doesn't know the truth about the rumors?"
Looking utterly unrepentant, Talia gave a light shrug. "I don't know. Your captain doesn't talk much and isn't really prone to gossiping. And half the village probably has something to say about him too."
Lucien glanced at the armor-clad figure walking away, noticing the wide berth most of the villagers seemed to give the man.
"...I can see that."
Talia followed the direction of his gaze, her eyes softening. "Worried about him, Senior?"
"Yes. Dorian might be hard to approach...but he's a good man," Lucien replied, before shooting his junior a dry look. "And one who should know the truth as my guard captain."
"Hey! It's true that we were up all night!"
Lucien rubbed the bridge of his nose. "To make sure our calculations were right. Harlon and Joren will need them as soon as they finish the scorpion prototype."
At his words, his junior let out a groan. "Ughhh, don't remind me. I haven't done geometry since high school, without a calculator too!"
She shook her head. "Anyways! Once Marcus gets back, we can see how effective the coating is. It's not exactly the best, but it should still have some effect on them."
Turning back to the gate, Lucien rubbed his chin. "It is one of this world's ways of dealing with orcs. With how strong they are, it makes sense that humans would have come up with various methods."
"Though I didn't expect you to be able to procure poisons made by an alchemist, if they are legitimate, that is."
Talia exhaled faintly. "I used my family's name to get it, so they shouldn't be bold enough to outright cheat me. The Mervaine name is pretty influential among those who trade in potions and alchemical supplies."
"Actual alchemists are pretty rare though, so the ones I got might've been brewed by an apprentice looking to make extra coin..." Her words trailed off before she perked up.
"Oh, speaking of which! Did you know alchemy is considered a newly discovered branch of the Higher Arts in this world?"
The way his junior phrased it caused Lucien to glance at her, brow raised. "They are considered mages?"
She shrugged lightly. "That's what I could glean from how people in Helvarn talk about them. Seems like it was only included in the Higher Arts recently."
Talia grimaced, sticking her tongue out slightly before she spoke. "Ugh...are the mages of this world a pretentious sort? Who calls their work higher of all things?"
Lucien let out a faint breath. "People tend to view their work as more important than everything else. I would imagine the rare few who can use magic would be even more so."
She gave a chuckle before gesturing. "Come on, Sera should be back by now and I am hungry. Depending on how things go, they'll be back sooner rather than later."
As they made their way back to the manor, Lucien's thoughts were already on the next task ahead. He would have to send word to Lord Vaelric soon.
Lucien rolled the parchment and set it aside for a messenger to pick up later that day. Near the window, Sera was doing her usual maintenance on her bow while occasionally looking out beyond the village.
The hours had crawled by since he had sent the men out, and while he kept himself busy, he couldn't help feeling restless throughout the day.
Last night, the signal fire had not been destroyed again, and Sera had reported that the orcs hadn't approached the treeline close to the riverbank.
He disliked the lack of pattern in the orcs' behavior. Some nights, they simply watched. On others, they destroyed the signal fire before withdrawing, only to return the next night and do the same again.
Either the variant was testing them just as much as he was, or he was placing too much thought on the actions of beasts.
Dorian believed it was the variant, but Lucien wondered how much of that belief was the captain's own hatred for the beasts clouding his judgment.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when Sera's head jerked up.
For a long moment, she remained still in the posture he had come to recognize whenever the hunter was listening intently.
Then she turned to him and gave a nod.
When they left the manor, the distant commotion near the northern gate told him the riders had returned.