Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Chapter 110  Dawn of a new day

Two weeks had passed since the fall of Thegolontia. The city, once proud and defiant, now layd in the hands of Prince Maesinius. His banner flew high over its battered walls, and a garrison of 300 men had been left behind to secure the streets and maintain order. Yet, Maesinius knew the city itself was not the ultimate prize—it was the battle yet to come that would decide the fate of the province.

The prince, flanked by his commanders, led an army of 7,300 soldiers, marching steadily through the open countryside beyond Thegolontia. His men moved with a disciplined pace, their morale high by recent victory and the following loot but aware of the enemy force advancing toward them. Scouts had been sent in all directions, scouring the land for signs of the opposing army, while Maesinius himself studied the terrain. He sought not just to meet his enemies but to meet them on the ground of his own choosing. This was to be his first battle , yet it seemed that he had no qualms with it and instead behaved as if he had spent half his life there.

The lands the prince had personally scouted as he had waited for his enemy to come were varied—rolling hills that stretched into flat plains, thick patches of forest that could either be a boon for ambush or a hazard for retreat. Maesinius's sharp eyes scanned the horizon as he rode ahead of a bunch of men. Finally he seemed to have arrived at the ground where the battle would be given .

As Prince Maesinius dismounted from his horse, brushing the dust from his leather gauntlets, he was approached by the Lord of North's Bane. The man was grizzled and broad-shouldered, with streaks of gray in his beard and the hard eyes of a veteran. He was also the father of the woman Maesinius intended to marry—though he still did not know that.

"Well?" Harold asked, his voice gruff "Have you found it?"

Maesinius smiled, a slow, confident smile, and nodded. "Yes. I believe this is the ground."

The land stretched wide and open before them, mostly flat with tall, waving grass that reached up to a man's waist. To the right, a deep river carved its way through the landscape, its waters dark and swift.

Harold's eyes swept over the tall grass, the gently undulating land, and the river, which served as a natural boundary to the right. The plain seemed endless, but Maesinius had chosen it for a reason. It wasn't as open as it seemed.

Murth, Lord of Greenplain, approached them next, his arm cast in bandages and hung to his shoulder,a kindness left by a soldier during the siege of the city. In itself , lord Murth was a cautious man,especially for a northerner who mostly had been tempered by nature to be as savages as beasts.

"Why this place?" he finally asked "It looks... too exposed. We could be caught in a cavalry charge with no high ground to defend."

Maesinius mounted his horse again, his movements steady. He glanced at the man.

"Tell me, Lord Murth," Maesinius began, "what do you think we lack most in this battle?"

Murth did not hesitate a moment before he answered, "Cavalry. We're short on riders that's plain for everyone to see.To me , to you even to the goats"

Maesinius gave an approving nod. "Exactly. Which is why this terrain works in our favor."

He pointed toward the deep river on the right. " First of all there's the river. It cuts off their flanking maneuvers to one flank. They'll be forced to come at us from the front, every commander knows that charging directly into a infatry formation, is a nice way to decimate your horses. And since they will have no way to hit our flanks , the only reasonable choice is one ...concentrating all the cavalry on the left. If we manage to make our preparation for that , then we can even the odds. "

Harold grunted in approval, eyeing the river and the grassy plains. "Aye, that's clever.Except even then we have nothing to stop them...."

Elenoir,meanwhile rode up alongside Maesinius. Her brow was furrowed in thought, and with a voice calm but questioning she poke. "What happens if High Marshal Conte decides not to give battle here?"

Maesinius turned toward Elenoir, and for a moment, he laughed—heartily, as if it were a joke. His deep voice echoed across the plain, surprising some of the men nearby. After a few seconds, he quieted, fixing Elenoir with a confident smile.

"Conte has no choice," Maesinius said with certainty. "The fall of Thelogontia has already shattered his reputation. His vassals see him as weak, some may even point their finger at him, accusing their lord of deliberately slowing the army to allow the enemy take care of one of his strongest vassal for him. His once unshakeable authority is probably already starting to crumble. If they sense even a moment of hesitation, they'll begin questioning him even further , maybe even consider breaking off."

Elenoir nodded slowly, processing the prince's words, though there was still a trace of doubt on his face. "You're certain he'll commit to battle here, though? What makes you think he won't try to outmaneuver us?"

He paused for effect, making sure Elenoir and the others understood the reasoning "Conte knows this better than anyone. He can't afford to seem indecisive. His only option is to fight—and soon. His prestige is hanging by a thread. If he runs now, his own lords will turn against him."

Elenoir nodded slowly, processing the prince's words, though there was still a trace of doubt on his face. "You're certain he'll commit to battle here, though? What makes you think he won't try to outmaneuver us?" @@novelbin@@

Maesinius grinned, glancing over the open plain again before answering. "He will give us battle—especially when he hears that we lack cavalry. Conte's pride won't let him resist what he thinks is a golden opportunity. He'll come charging in, thinking our weakness will make us easy prey. We just need to send an envoy to set the day of the battle , at which point Conte will be forced to accept this as our battleground unless he wants to be deemed craven by his own sworn lords.''

Maesinius turned his gaze toward Uther, the towering figure known as "the Giant" among the men. Uther was a hulking presence, easily standing five heads taller than anyone else in the camp, with broad shoulders that seemed capable of carrying the weight of the world. A smile crept onto Maesinius's face as he looked at Uther, and the giant noticed. Raising a brow in confusion, Uther glanced around, as if to check if something else had caught the prince's attention.

"Why are you smiling at me like that?" Uther rumbled,

Maesinius chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with a knowing look. "Because, my dear Uther," he said, his tone both playful and serious, "you're going to have the biggest role in the battle.And trust me you will love it. You will be our axe."

Uther's lips widened, and he gave a low, approving growl. "I like the sound of that."

Maesinius waved his hand dismissively at Uther's growing excitement. "I'll explain the details later," he said, his tone shifting back to one of seriousness "For now, we have other matters to attend to."

He turned to the rest of the company, his expression sharp and focused. "We should make camp here," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for debate as he turned to his lords. "This land is where we will meet Conte, and where we will break his forces.This is where we decide whether we will come victorious or deem our people to death. Remember how far we advanced and what we have left behind.This is where everythign will be decided, in one way or another."

Lord Harold and the others exchanged brief glances, nodding in agreement. They had gone too far to let doubt linger in them. Harold stood a few paces behind the prince, his eyes narrowed in deep thought as he observed Maesinius closely. There was an intensity in his stare, as if he were seeing the young man in a new light, noticing something that hadn't been obvious before. His usually stern face softened slightly, but his expression remained unreadable to most.

Elenoir, his daughter, who had been standing by his side, glanced up at him curiously. "Father?" she asked quietly, her voice carrying just a hint of concern. "What is it? You're staring , and hard at that."

Harold didn't answer immediately. His lips curled into a small smile, and he finally tore his gaze from the prince to look at his daughter. "It seems our prince has taken more from his father than he's let on. He is more wolf than sheep, even though he thinks himself the opposite " he said in a low voice, one filled with a mix of amusement and respect.

Elenoir raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You think so?"

Harold nodded slowly, his eyes flickering back to Maesinius, who was now giving more orders to the men, his commanding presence undeniable. "There's a cunning in him, that I did not know he possessed, and he is able to win people's hearts quite easily.Perhaps our plans with him will be much easier than we thought it would be.''