Forged in Battle Read Online Free PDF

branches to stop wild animals from
digging the bodies up again.
     
    The merchants’ belongings consisted of some wooden crates and
heavy packs.
    “Get these men’s bags!” Osric shouted but no one volunteered.
“Come on! Freidel! Elias! You two!” he shouted, meaning Schwartz, a stable lad
before he joined up, and Kann—a quiet man who had been friends with the man
they had just buried. “Pick this stuff up!”
    Baltzer started to chuckle as Freidel lifted one of the
satchels onto his shoulders. Elias lifted a case, but as he did so he felt a
stabbing pain in his arm and dropped the crate.
    “Careful!” Gunter cursed, but when Elias tried to lift it
again his arm refused to take the weight.
    “He’s wounded!” Freidel called out and the men gathered round
and saw the slash on the underside of Elias’ jacket: the spreading stain of
blood.
    Gunter hurried over to inspect his new lad. The cut was not
too deep, but it was bleeding freely. “Freidel—bind this up!”
    Freidel took a dirty strip of cloth and bound it around
Elias’ arm. Elias could barely feel the pain. He could still feel his heart
racing.
    Freidel tied a knot in the cloth and Elias dropped his arm to
his side. “Is it bad?”
    Freidel told him, “Don’t worry, you’ll live.”
     
    Once they had walked a little way along the road Edmunt began
to get a sense of their bearings. They were higher up the valley than he had
thought. It was only a few miles down the road to Gruff Spennsweich’s farm.
    They paused to pass the merchants’ belongings around, and as
soon as the loads were redistributed Sigmund was off again, with Edmunt at the
front.
    Elias felt the blood on his cheeks drying to a scab. He put
his hand to his face and looked at the blood on his fingertips. It was red, just
like human blood.
    He swallowed. He was disappointed with his first battle. He’d
been terrified. The thought of being in combat again made him start to sweat.
    “Come on, wounded soldier,” Gaston encouraged and Elias
forced a smile and went in front of him.
     
    Sigmund led them down the road towards Farmer Spennsweich’s
farm. Osric’s company led, Gunter’s followed. Even though it was dark, the men’s
legs swung freely now, and they made good going.
    The trees pressed in on either side, dark and silent. The men
strained their eyes in case one of the shadows should leap out in ambush—but
nothing moved and this time no alarms were given.
    The road dipped down and forded a stream. They splashed
through the water and climbed up a gentle rise. The closer to the top they came
the stronger was the faint smell of wood smoke and cooking. Many of the men
expected to find the place devastated, like the farm they had seen earlier that
day—so when they saw the lights inside the shutters and the thread of pale
grey smoke hanging over the cabin, there was a noticeable wave of relief. The
soldiers laughed and joked and Baltzer suggested Freidel ask how much Gruff’s
daughters were for the night.
     
    Gruff Spennsweich sat by the door, a piece of straw in his
mouth and the loaded blunderbuss across his knees. He had chewed the end down to
a sodden mess of fibres and spat it onto the floor.
    Valina didn’t like him spitting in the house, but he was too
preoccupied to notice her frown.
    When they heard the tramp of many footsteps Beatrine gasped.
“What’s that?”
    Gruff Spennsweich had worked all these years to raise his
family and now savage animals—animals with just enough intelligence to
understand hatred and vengeance and cruelty—were coming to kill all his pretty
daughters. He stood holding the blunderbuss, both hands shaking as he checked
the bolts on the doorway, then opened the shutters on the window and thrust the
gun out.
    “Get off my land!” he bellowed. “Or I’ll blow you back to
your damned pits!”
    Osric saw the gun first and ducked and then all the
halberdiers started to run for cover.
    “Farmer Spennsweich!”