Stories Thread

[Cecil XIX]

Provence, 1020 A.D.

It was a cold day, unusual for the mild weather of the Mediterranean. Raymond's father Charles had suddenly insisted that he and his older brother Roland go out for a ride with him. It was an odd command, but they naturally complied. They followed their father, who was moving with an unusual amount of speed and deliberation, to the top of a nearby hill some distance away from their castle.

Raymond's eyes widened at what lay below them. It was an honest-to-the-Lord battle, which he recognized as being fought between two of his father's vassals. This was as close as he had every been to battle before, he could see the two forces forming a line of battle and advancing.

"Father," Roland spoke. "What is this? Why are the lords of Nice and Forcalqueir engaged in battle?"

"Their reasons are not your concern." Their father said flatly.

"But why do you not act? Surely as their liege you could-"

"You are wrong." Charles cut him off sharply. "I am their liege, but I am not their master. My vassals are free men, and it is not my place to dictate how they interact with each other."

Roland harumphed. "This is about Moustiers-Sainte-Marie, isn't it? To think that lords of our realm would enage their fellow frenchmen in such a pointless batt-"

"You are wrong!" Charles interrupted again, this time more forcibly. "There is no such thing as pointless battle. Shut up and watch."

And so Roland did, and they watched the battle. In his later years Raymond learned that it was not anything special, but at the time it was all so new and exciting. On both sides the knights immediately advanced ahead of the foot soldiers, and sought each other out as the most suitable foes. They fought for a while, then when one side tired or was losing too badly they would withdraw behind the infantry. This repeated as the infantry closed in, archers firing at everything they could.

"Look at the men who are fighting. What do you see, Roland?"

"Knights and peasants."

"Not who they are. What are they doing? What does that tell you?"

"...They're just fighting. It's their duty."

"It's more than that. Regardless of what has lead them there, on the battlefield each man operates in the same fundamental way. To go to war is a momentous, unsure thing. As a result they are all marching with their hopes, their dreams and their fears. With their lives on the line, they have no choice but to put their immortal souls into their actions. By throwing themselves whole-heartedly in battle, they reveal who they are through their open actions. It is in battle that a man finds himself, and can be recognized."

Roland was silent, and Raymond remembered thinking that his brother didn't quite believe what their father was telling them. Thus it was Raymond who spoke up, even knowing that this outing was primarily for his brother's sake.

"But father, what of the people who die in battle? It seems like a terrible shame for them to be tempered in such a way, only to perish."

Their father allowed himself a bit of a smile at Raymond's question.

"That's true. In war, one's real enemies are those who raise and command the armies that stand in opposition to you. The vast majority of the men you see before you are not enemies to either side. In any war, there will be men who stand opposed to you as a result of their virtues, such as loyalty and duty. It is a terrible shame when such men die, and it should be avoided. Make sure you save your wrath for your true enemies, those you oppose you out of greed and sin."

They were mostly silent for the rest of the battle, and afterwards Raymond took the lesson to heart better than Roland. Perhaps that is why Roland left Provence to seek his fortune elsewhere, and Raymond finds himself where he is today...