Chapter 9
A Warm Welcome
Hellebard, Konge Province, Titan
"Much of my life, I did not have much of a sense of community. Raised on a small farm beyond the outskirts of town, cooped up in the library as a scribe... It was not until I assumed lordship that I came to understand that sense of belonging, and the responsibility that went with it. It is a man's nature to think first of himself and to seek after his own benefit, but there is little a man can do alone. That is, of course, why communities are built and so, a man's nature is transformed. He thinks of the community and seeks the community's benefit. A man is no longer one but many. The good of this community becomes his good and the strength of the community his strength."
-Excerpt from the assorted writings of Mark the Guardian
Two days after passing the Vale of Asgard, the Gladians got their first sight of civilization. Intact civilization, that is. The ruined abbey and a number of burnt-out farmsteads along the way did not speak to civilization in the land but rather a lack thereof. The twin cities of Hellebard and Stridoks were situated on the east and west banks of the River Titan, just south of river delta valley where the river split into fourteen forks before spilling out into the sea.
Mark decided it would be prudent to have the company wait outside the city while he first conferred with the ruling lord. With the Gladians coming as allies to answer the Titians call for aid, it would be expected that every courtesy would be extended to them, but this was a land racked with disorder and they did not need to add unduly to the burdens the people were already bearing.
Mark selected a party of ten including Sir Emerich and Squire Halfdan. The rest of the company he entrusted to Sonia. He figured she would not be too interested in treating with the local rulers and honestly he worried about how she would react if they received a chilly reception. Sir Emerich alone would be problem enough, surely.
The city was encompassed by a wooden palisade. It did not seem like there was much stone construction to be found. Unlike the Gladians, the Titians did not seem to quarry stone from the mountains, but they also did not have their cities built by men of old Roman stock with their love of stonework.
Simple watchtowers were positioned along the palisades every 300 paces or so. A somewhat more robust tower stood watch at the main gate leading into the city. When the Gladian company came into the watchmen’s view, they sounded the alarm and so when Mark and his entourage approached, rows of chevaux-de-frise blocked the way. At least the guards did not shut the gate on them.
When one of the guards called out to challenge them, Mark told Squire Halfdan, "Tell them who we are and what our business is, and that I would like to speak to the lord of this city."
"Yes, milord," Squire Halfdan replied before speaking to the guard. After a brief exchange, he then told Mark, "They say His Lordship the Duke is dining in the King's hall."
"The King's hall... Castle Titan then?"
"I would assume so, milord."
"Surely the Duke let a deputy to act in his stead. I will speak with him then."
Squire Halfdan spoke to the guard again.
"They say to wait here, milord," Squire Halfdan said.
"Then we wait," Mark replied.
And so they were kept waiting for some time until several guards came out to move the chevaux-de-frise so that a small party could come out to meet them. There were four men-at-arms kitted out as well as the mutinous hirdmen of the Blood Eagles, much unlike the more modestly equipped guards at the gate. They were as much a symbol of status as they were protection for the entourage. The leader of the group was dressed finely, but it was not immediately clear if he was a nobleman himself.
The leader bowed and introduced himself, which Squire Halfdan then relayed to Mark.
"He's Thorvald Helmutson, steward of Bard Jarl—er, that is, Lord Bard—, deputy of Duke Callicrates, the lord of the city. He welcomes us to Hellebard."
"We greet him and his lord in the name of our liege King Edric," Mark said. "I trust Sir Thorvald knows of our business in this land. We seek lodgings and provisions for our company."
Squire Halfdan translated Mark's words, then told him Thorvald's reply.
"He asks how many are in our company, milord."
"Twelve thousand three and fifty souls and three hundred and fourteen beasts," Mark said. He then glanced to Sir Emerich and asked, "That is the most recent tally, correct?"
"Three hundred and thirteen beasts, milord," Sir Emerich said. "There was a nag that stumbled and broke its leg this morning and had to be put down."
"Three hundred and thirteen beasts then," Mark said.
Thorvald maintained a pleasant facade, but it was plain to see there was something less pleasant going on behind the mask. Squire Halfdan looked awkward as he translated.
"He says that the men of rank in our company are welcome in the hall of his lord, but there isn't room enough for all of us. Also, he says food is scarce and there is little to spare."
Mark frowned. He was not expecting any luxury, but he was at least hoping he could offer the men a roof over their heads and a decent meal. Apparently that was hoping too much.
"Tell him that I appreciate his lord's offer of hospitality, but I cannot accept the warmth of another man's hearth while my men are left to huddle in tents. We will set camp outside the city walls and we will continue on in the morning. We would welcome an escort so that our passage causes no distress to the townsfolk. Also, we will be grateful for whatever food and provender you can spare."
Squire Halfdan translated what Mark said. Thorvald appeared discomfitted when he heard this. Mark guessed what he said before Squire Halfdan translated it.
"He asks you to reconsider, milord, for the sake of his lord's honor."
Mark motioned to their encampment in the distance and said, "Unless he can find room for all of them, I cannot accept."
To Thorvald's credit, it seemed that he was at least trying to work out some sort of solution in his head, but he did not exert too much effort before giving up.
"He says it is unfortunate," Squire Halfdan translated for him. "He prays you will give no ill report of his lord when you go to the King's hall."
"That will depend on what your lord can do for my men," Mark said. "He will have his reward in full."
"He says he will do what he can, milord," Squire Halfdan replied.
Thorvald and his fellow servants made a display of repeatedly bowing to Mark as they withdrew.
Once he thought Thorvald's party was out of earshot, Squire Halfdan asked Mark, "Are you sure about this, milord? This will be taken for insult."
"If it is taken, then it is only because it was first given," Mark replied.
"Surely no offense was meant, Master," Sir Pelagius said. "No doubt these people are in dire straits in these lawless times."
"Ought the shepherd attend a feast while his flock yet wanders in the wilderness?" Mark asked.
"No, Master."
"The shepherd is a hireling," Sir Emerich said. "He ought not harm his master's name for the sake of beasts."
"Is that what you think, Sir Emerich," Mark asked, "that I've done hurt to the King's name?"
"I mislike the chill of this Lord Bard's hospitality, but His Majesty will not be pleased if you make enemies when you have been sent as a friend."
"The men of rank were to be provided for," Sir Martinus of the Corinthian levy said. "Is that not enough?"
"Only if you'd like to see the men of rank stand alone on the battlefield, Sir Martinus," Mark replied.
Unimpressed, Sir Martinus said, "You may win fame among the rabbits, my lord, but it will not avail you when the wolves come a-ravishing."
Someone with a looser tongue like Sonia would have taken the bait to remark on the 'wolves' Sir Martinus spoke of, but there was nothing to be gained from it and so Mark held his peace.
"Let's get back," Mark said. "Pray we find warmer welcome in the next town."
"I wouldn't expect much warmth in this accursed land," Sir Wulfrich of Stormtree grumbled.
Mark had to hope that the cool reception would not lead to flared tempers. He had to consider that they might receive more of the same treatment all the way until they met the Archduke, maybe even after that point. He thought on the worst case, of the disgruntled conscripts falling to mutiny and banditry. Not indulging in any luxuries for himself was one way he hoped to ward off the risk of mutiny, but if the men were strained to their limits by the privations of the march, how would they stand up to the ravages of the battlefield? The true test had not even begun.