On Campaign
Prince Louis, heir to the throne of France, leaned back in his saddle so that he had room to reach into his breeches and adjust himself. Riding down out of the Pyrenees was giving him quite a case of chafing, and the new saddle he'd been presented as a consolation prize after his failure at the Tournament was no small part of the cause. Almost he suspected Constance had arranged that somehow, but it was surely far too subtle a gambit for the girl. No, more likely it was the castle grooms at Paris wreaking their revenge for all his little games. They'll pay when I ride back, he thought, oh how they'll pay.
Raynaud de Xaintrailles rode on up ahead of the Prince, constantly checking for signs of ambush and advance warning of any enemy activity. Unlike some of his fellows of Aquitaine, his mind was focused solely on the task at hand. Nobody on the trip could remember him saying anything that wasn't strictly related to the campaign.
No matter the discomfort the Prince thought it was glorious to be out on campaign again. Prancing through the countryside south of Toulouse had been wonderful, and the late summer weather had held back it's cool promise of rain most days. Best of all several of the vineyards they'd passed were holding stocks for the Prince, having heard (Because he sent messengers ahead, of course) that he would be passing, so the baggage train seemed to grow daily.
Even word from his father that negotiations had begun with the Spanish over a marriage alliance hadn't dampened his mood. What matter if some court girl were given to him, when all these lovely peasant lasses out in the countryside were so welcoming?
One of the scouts returned to report smoke rising above the trees a few miles ahead in their direct line of march. Louis personally instructed him to make a cautious approach, and at a gesture ordered the column to a halt. If the Prince's latest page had any sense he was already on his way back from the baggage train with a carafe of wine.
While waiting Louis' thoughts turned to his sworn vassals,
Raynaud de Xaintrailles seems a very intense chap. Dedicated to his goals, which happen to match well with my own. A valuable asset and a well spoken nobleman, above reproach even. Have to think up a good nickname for him, 'Ray' is a rather too common name for a man of such bearing and Sir de Xaintrailles is not something I look forward to shouting across a battlefield. I expect he'd object to being called 'Abbot,' but I might just pin it on him anyway.
Christophe de Perronne is more of my own heart and spirit. Ready to engage in a spot of fun where ever it can be found, but there's a core of steel in him which suggests he won't lack the will for dark work when it's needed either. A man with clear ambitions, vocal and visible loyalty, and by all accounts a reliable commander of soldiers. Think I'll try out 'Hawk' as a nick for the lad, he seems like a hunter, though perhaps not of small game.
Gontran de Linars is a reliable type. At my side throughout the Tournament. Attentive in the Council, always ready with a suggestion, but he volunteered to stay behind from the campaign. Has to make a man wonder. Still, he's right, he is a good match to run things in Toulouse and he has, frankly, a better head for administration than I do. Maybe I'll call him 'Scholar.'
Yvon Lacaze has been quiet, but reports peg him a man of good taste when it comes to wine and women. Follows orders without complaint so far, and if he was a bit tardy on the march he's made it up since. Yvon, now there's a name I can roar across a battlefield easily, but he'll need another all the same. Suppose I'll wait 'til after I've seen him in action. P'raps he'll impress me at the walls of Zaragosa.
And then there's my fifth. Hard to know what to make of him except that he's been absolutely reliable thus far. Loyalty like that will command a high price in due course, but is surely worth it all the same. Too bad he couldn't join us on the road south, but that would've been a touch too obvious and I'm sure his own campaign will carry through just as well. I think I'll call him 'Elephant.'
The scout had returned now, and he reported that there was a sturdy looking stone inn ahead at the edge of a pretty little Spanish village. Louis smiled and licked his lips. A roof over his head, a chance to buy some wine and not deplete his good French stores, and a gaggle of peasant girls to impress, most of whom hopefully spoke nary a word of French. Louis thought merrily, God is good, God is great, now let's all go celebrate!
Aloud he said,
"Forward the column! Lodgings for the captains tonight! The rest of the lads will put their tents up on the south end of town, it'll make a better impression for us if they march through 'fore they set up, yes?"
Well behind the main force, bringing along the spearmen, Yvon had a grin on his face, staring out at the beautiful Spanish countryside. He looked back to the rows upon rows of mercenaries riding behind his back, all of there faces a mixture of greed, joy, and fear.
They were a mixed lot, thought Yvon, here almost to the man simply for money. Among them Yvon's retinue lurked, keeping order and making sure they stayed in line on the trip to rejoin Prince Louis down at Zaragosa, where word had reached him the siege had begun. It was an important job, and Yvon was glad Louis had looked past his….. uhhhhh…. unexpected tardiness on the trail and given it to him. He was happy to do it, of that there was no doubt. The girls were pretty and the wine, when he could find any that is for it seemed his lord had already taken quite a good bit of the local stores, was good. His lord had fine tastes, that was for sure.
He hoped he would reach Zaragosa soon, as the spearmen would be quite necessary in the upcoming siege…..
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