5. Two forts
Many people whispered about the pagan lord and his two towns and two villages. A man who had started with two borrowed retainers now had a 150 man mercenary army, cobbled together with looted silver coins. He was already preparing another sortie much to the shock of everyone. He did not feel the cold, perhaps that was an ancillary benefit of his ice powers, he nonetheless wore a linen jacket, and warm boots, saluting his mercenary army who looked at him like a living god.
“Glory to the ice goddess!” A large man with a glaive saluted Morganius.
“Oh? Are you being serious stranger?” Morganius asked.
“I wish to be in your bodyguard, the troubadour tales of you are young, but you are quite the figure, a UU, but nonetheless it is all the more impressive that you have your own personal army,” the large man said.
“Morganius,” Morganius introduced himself, “what should I call you?”
“Myrddin,” the man rumbled, “you are?”
“Zaras, bodyguard to Morganius,” he began, “we are all trying our best.”
“I have heard of your exploits,” Myrddin said, “the man who became a UU, I was from a Kena family, but perhaps the goddess of ice is worth following. It turned a nobody into a baron of the east.”
“A baron of the east indeed,” Zaras said, “so you wish to join the bodyguard unit.”
“A devotee to the new man of the east, what is it you wish of us captain?”
“My next target are the nearby fortresses,” Morganius said, “it is still winter I know, but I need small teams to assist me in sundering and capturing these forts.”
“Capturing?” Myrddin said most amazed.
“We must wrest control of all Turanian possessions here, I must make my job easier for the spring.”
“You destroyed a 2000 man army not that long, did you not?” Myrddin questioned, “is there any particular reason you are so crazy.”
The large man had a large nose, was two metres tall to Morganius’s 1.8 metres, Zaras was likewise a similar height to Morganius a giant with a glaive.
“There is a question mark over whether I have to use all 150 men and go over there? Or whether I should divide them stationing some here as a garrison,”
“You can be defeated in detail like that,” Zaras warned, “the men here could get annihilated or run off or something.”
“True, but then we will have a much smaller profile,” Myrddin said, “we are much less likely to be spotted.”
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“Oh you agree with the lunatic strategy?” Zaras said.
“Winter campaigning is already a lunatic strategy,” Myrddin quipped. He put his hand on his face, “it’s not totally without merit, it could work.”
“There are two forts nearby here, if I sit tight here, they will be reinforced and be used as staging grounds,” Morganius said, “I must take them before the spring.”
“I wonder how the ice demon does sieges,”
I also wonder. Zaras thought but did not say.
Morganius had spent two days stocking supplies, gathering mercenaries. There they all stood with the Mikel flag fluttering in the background.
“I wonder what I should have as a flag of my fiefs?” He wondered aloud.
“Perhaps something to do with ice?” Myrdinn said, “you decided what to do.”
“I am taking the new recruits along,” Morganius said.
He took 100 mercenaries in the cold morning air, to the fort. The weather was hardly snowing, but it was not warm enough to warrant short sleeves or trousers, nonetheless Morganius did not feel the cold, approaching the Turanian fortress in the early hours of the morning. The intrepid adventurer immediately took out the guards lazily sitting on the wall, as his men began picking off the garrison. Morganius hailed icicles that took out what should have been pretty well defended walls. Myrddin stared in amazement and his new recruits likewise cheered as the icicles hit the targets and cleared the wall. A garrison of 500, when some 100 men tried to sally out and stop the barrages, were annihilated in record time. He shot icicles at the people manning gate, the gate unable to be shut as he barraged the gate. Defenders panicked and tried to close it, but Morganius’s mercenary men were already rushing the defence. Hail of ice hit the men up top and stopped the closing of the gate. Morganius stood back, Myrddin rushed forward, leading the charge of the mercenaries. Myrddin was big, strong and remarkably quick, claiming the gate, and soon slicing the defenders who promptly surrendered. 340 defenders surrendered their arms and armour, and all their valuables. Morganius leaving some 20 of his own men in the fort.
“If you kill them there will be hell to pay,” some mercenaries said, “it is not good practice.”
“Take their equipment and let them go,” Morganius said, “be thankful that the ‘ice demon’ is kind. Pagan spared your life! Don’t you forget it!”
The men were half wailing as they left the fort. Morganius had to divide his army, sending 50 to haul the loot to the town of Zolsa, tasking the mercenaries to employ local citizens in the task.
“I don’t care if they pocket some coins, but I need some money for my mercenary army, and hell maybe some men,” he said.
He promptly headed off with 50 men for the other fortress nearby, a fort with likewise 500 men defending it. It was a small thing, extending perhaps some 50 metres, it was a supply station, a point of intimidation for the locals and a defence point. The other fort had a Mikel flag hoisted on the top and would at least for a little while hold off attackers.
“Our best preparation for the spring is we take the other one!” Morganius said, “rush them and they won’t know what hit them.”
“I’m pretty sure they will,” Zaras whispered sardonically.
The fortress was on a hill, and little to Morganius’s knowledge it actually was due to be reinforced. He pelted the fort, killing the infuriated guards who attempted to sally out and end the barrage only to be even more brutally destroyed. His 50 crossbowmen and Morganius himself promptly stormed the gatehouse brutally butchering the garrison who attempted to resist. His men promptly shut the fort, and found there were 3000 Turanians outside the fort. The army was intended to relieve Zolsa and end the menace, and now it too was being showered with ice pieces.
“Up here!” One Turanian soldier shouted.
The man was shot with a crossbow but it was too late. The Mikel flag was hoisted on the roof, but the whole endeavour was a bit foolish.
“Well we did it,” Zaras said, more than a bit concerned, “well done I guess?”
The Turanians still occupied parts of the fort, and Morganius killed parts of them, his men shooting at them when they could, but the Turanians outside were much more terrifying. The afternoon sun gave a semblance of summer, but the wind was icy and cold. Morganius smelled future blood.
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