Book 3 Chapter 41: Put Some Hair on Your Chest
A soldier in gray sat in the mud as he watched the cannons get loaded. He’d seen plenty of guns on the farm, but cannons were new to him. Massive hunks of metal that needed to be dragged by several draft horses or made weightless by magic just to move them into position. He felt his teeth buzz a bit as one of the mages cast some kind of spell on the cannonball before it was dropped in, his hands glowed with intense blue light for a moment, then faded, and he moved to the next cannon where they loaded it again.
“Get the fuck up mudboot,” yelled the sergeant making him jump to his feet, barely managing to bring his spear with him to avoid a flogging.
“Yes boss, er yes sir!”
The sergeant spat on the ground.
“You’re in luck. We’ve been ordered to start burning down all the structures between us and the wall. Any valuables you find are yours to keep, any man or woman you can bring back you get a bonus for. They’re dousing torches up on the front, go get one and get ready. They’ll probably take potshots from the walls, but there’s plenty of cover… at least until we’re done.”
He nodded his head and quickly began moving for the front, putting his helmet on and strapping it under his chin as he moved. The armor was cheap, but he was grateful for it. Some of the other men had decided not to spend any of their commission on it, but he wanted to make it back. If he was lucky, he’d earn enough to buy a slave.
He met up with the rest of his squad, a ten man gang of primarily degens and city dwellers that hadn’t worked a field a day in their lives. Only two others had opted for armor, the rest only wore their gray uniforms and carried their spears and torches.
Dym handed him his torch.
“I’ve heard there’s still a few people in the houses and stuff in there,” he licked his lips, “you reckon there’s any women?”