Chapter 83: Mud, Blood, and Traitors
It was the last thing that Simon wanted to spend his time doing, but there was no denying that it needed to be done. It seemed that once the King was dead, war was inevitable, no matter how much he might try to prevent that. So, since he had no way to keep the King breathing, and he’d definitely had a hand in creating this mess, he figured that he might as well travel with his favorite family to go avenge the death of the dead man’s son. Along the way, he did his best to help Gregor and his younger brother prepare for everything that was going to happen next.
He’d thought that the difficulties in keeping both of them and their father safe, even in fancy plate mail, would be the worst part, but that turned out to be fine. In skirmish after skirmish, they managed to distinguish themselves as the growing army pushed toward the capital.
No, the real problems turned out to be the weather and the company. Not the soldiers, of course; Simon had spent enough time around their sort over the last few lives that, with the exception of the Corwin boys, he found he preferred it. There was a steady rhythm to their jokes and comfort to be found around a fire with men whom you’d fought beside.
It was their Lords that were the real problem.
First, it was Earl Greyden. He’d joined them short of the crossroads after the first major battle that Baron Corwin’s men faced, where they crossed swords with the Earl of Dunnin’s men over a river crossing. The Earl’s men had relied on the river and several ranks of longbowmen for their defense. So, when a few volleys of arrows did less than nothing thanks to a little whispered force magic, they were forced to retreat, and Baron Corwin took the field.
The Earl of Greyden, the Baron’s direct Lord, arrived immediately after the fighting was done. To Simon it was almost suspicious how quickly the man had arrived, and he couldn’t decide if it was because he wanted Baron Corwin to lose so he could swoop in and take the credit or if the Earl would have joined his neighbor on the winning side and slaughtered his own bannerman for his lands.
Either way, Simon had not forgotten what the man’s assassins had done to him with their crossbows, and for a few days, he considered taking him out on principle were it not for one of the nobles that joined them as their ever-growing army approached the villages on the outskirts of Liepzen.
Until then, they’d been joined by a number of nobles who were outraged by what the Duke had done to the Prince under his care. Basically, the whole of the southern counties had risen up against the north, which remained largely loyal to Duke Brin.
Then Baron Raithewait and his army showed up. The man was at least twenty years younger than the last time Simon had seen him, but it was unmistakably him. He still had the same calculating eyes and aquiline nose.