Chapter 9: Fire
The next day, early in the morning.
Ser Pyle and his Scouting Corps had already set out in secret. The dozen or so nearby Wildling tribes had nearly emptied their camps to gather for battle, leaving mostly the old and weak behind. These were precisely their targets.
The members of the Scouting Corps were the best hunters in the Crabbe domain. It would naturally be easy for them to attack these tribes of old and weak, but the dozen or so camps were scattered in different locations, each with its own territory and varying in size.
Three of these tribes were the largest, with populations of several hundred people each.
The combat mission Glyn had given the Scouting Corps was to target these three large tribes. They were to take down at least two of them today.
Therefore, the key to the Scouting Corps' operation today was speed.
The experienced Ser Pyle understood this point well. Because the path forward was rugged and unsuitable for horses, he had not even worn his bright silver plate armor, which he never took off in times of war, so as not to affect their pace. Instead, he had donned a simplified breastplate "invented" by Lord Glyn over his chainmail.
Ser Pyle felt that Lord Glyn's words were incredibly insightful. As long as you ensure you are always facing the enemy, why protect your back?
Thinking back, Ser Pyle felt this was how he had always been on the battlefield.
Although Glyn had not said it explicitly, Ser Pyle felt that Glyn was, in fact, indirectly praising his courage. *The Lord understands me!*
Ser Pyle was ambitious. This was the first battle since the Lord had inherited House Crabbe, and it had to be not just a victory, but a brilliant one, to solidify his position as the most loyal and valiant Knight of The Whispers.
With proper command and timing, all three major tribes, defended only by the old and weak, could be dealt with today.
Once the three large tribes were taken care of, the remaining smaller ones would be scared witless. They would be easy to handle, likely not even daring to resist.
...
The sky began to brighten.
Glyn, dressed in black armor embroidered with the golden marsh-flower of his house, stood on high ground, silently watching the assembling soldiers.
The entire square was a clamor, a cacophony of various sounds rising and falling.
Glyn quickly discovered that the newly established Thorn Legion was, contrary to expectations, the fastest to assemble. After they had formed up, Aempa began to inspect the soldiers' equipment.
Glyn knew that nothing could be perfected overnight. He had simply sorted through some training methods and pre-battle precautions he felt were suitable for the moment and given a few simple instructions to Aempa.
Aempa carried out every order with meticulous care. One had to admit, this too was a kind of talent—or rather, the talent Glyn most hoped for in his commanders at this moment.
Glyn was very fond of Aempa's character; he could entrust her with more responsibility in the future.
...
Reina, with her silver hair tied in a high ponytail, stood out in the crowd.
After accompanying Aempa to inspect the equipment of the Thorn Legion, Reina glanced at Glyn in the distance, exchanged a few more words with Aempa, and then jogged in Glyn's direction.
Glyn noticed Reina jogging towards him.
The lively Reina even skipped a few times as she ran, and Glyn couldn't help but smile.
Glyn waved for his guards to stand down. Reina stopped a few paces away and bowed. "Forgive my intrusion, my Lord."
This was an etiquette she had just learned from Aempa.
Facing the Lord for the first time, Reina seemed very excited. Her voice was clear and pleasant.
A smile touched Glyn's lips. "You are Reina, deputy to Thorn Legion Commander Aempa."
"Oh! I haven't even introduced myself, and you already know my name? My Lord, you really do know everything, just like the rumors say! And also, the leather gloves you prepared for us are amazing! I tried them out, and my fingers feel so much better after shooting. The girls are all very confident about performing rapid volleys. We promise to complete the mission!"
There was a great deal of soft leather in the storehouse. Glyn knew that continuous longbow shooting was extremely hard on the fingers, so right after finishing the "new breastplates," he arranged for leather gloves for the archers.
Reina chattered on, even hopping with excitement.
It was still early, and Glyn was very patient with the soldier who was about to march out with him. He wore a warm smile, not interrupting, and waited for Reina to finish.
"Mm. It was a rush job, so the gloves might be too big or too small for some. In the future, you will all have gloves that fit properly."
"It's no problem, no problem at all! Look!"
As she spoke, Reina held out her right hand, showing off the glove that fit her palm perfectly. "I modified it last night. It was very simple! All the girls whose gloves didn't fit followed my lead and fixed theirs too!"
"Well done. Go back now, and assist Aempa. Remember, unity is strength."
"Yes, my Lord! Unity is strength!"
...
...
The location for the arranged battle with the mountain Wildlings was a relatively flat area about twenty miles east of The Whispers.
At daybreak, Glyn led his troops to the designated battleground.
Glyn spotted the Wildlings gathering a few hundred meters away, a black, pressing mass of figures.
Knight Ma dismounted and bellowed, "Armor up!"
With a rough voice, Knight Ma strode through the shifting crowd, occasionally lashing out with a kick.
"Shieldmen, assemble! Assemble!"
"Lazy bastards, form your ranks! Quick, quick!"
"What's the panic! Get over there, move it!"
"If you don't want your woman rolling in another man's bed tonight, check your gear one more time!"
"Dammit, shoulder to shoulder! Shoulder to shoulder!"
...
Glyn sat on his horse, beside him the already-assembled Thorn Legion.
Glyn once again lamented this duel-like style of combat on Crackclaw Point. It seemed vastly different from the methods of warfare he remembered from the world of Ice and Fire.
If his army were disciplined and well-trained, he would have ordered them to form up and push forward while the enemy was still in disarray.
Just as Glyn's side finished forming their lines, the Wildlings opposite them suddenly let out all sorts of strange howls. Their voices grew more unified, louder and louder.
The Wildlings, who in Glyn's eyes had no formation whatsoever, began to press toward his lines like a chaotic tide.
"Ranging arrow!"
"Yes! Ranging arrow!"
The Wildlings closed in on the conspicuous ranging arrow.
"Fire!"
(end of chapter)