A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Lombard's eyebrows shot up in surprise at that, and Beam saw him nodding. "There is a ring of truth to that… Your master sounds an interesting man – though I am still not convinced he is who you say he is."

"I thought you said you trust me," Beam said.

"To a degree – at the very least, I do not think you all that skilled at deceit," Lombard said. "Though the presence of this master behind you, the type of figure needed for this to make sense. No logical name comes to mind," Lombard told him.

"Then why ask me to work for you? Couldn't this all be part of my master's grand plan to stab you in the back?" Beam said.

"The benefits outweigh the dangers, is what I am thinking," Lombard said. "Though that remains to be seen. Are you prepared to fight?"

"I am," Beam said.

"Good," Lombard replied with a grin. "My soldiers that you detest so much will be watching. I hope that you will give us all a good show."

With those words, Lombard led Beam out of the tent and through the encampment, where everyone was hard at work. Beam saw the village smith with a tent of his own, hurriedly working steel on a grindstone, with sweat on his forehead, as a handful of soldiers were gathered around him, trying to get him to take care of their things as well.

Amidst the tents, Beam also began to see the wounded, groaning inside darkened rooms. Men on crutches, men with bandages around their heads. Men that looked like they wouldn't be able to fight again for quite a while. There were far more of them than Beam would have expected. He saw nearly ten just on his short work, which left him thinking that there were likely a lot more.

Past the soldiers, there were also some villager men moving through, with logs on their shoulders, as they carried freshly chopped wood from the forest towards the perimeter of the camp, where it would be cut down and used as part of the defences.

The defences themselves were indeed beginning to take shape. Of course it wasn't a grand wall or anything of the like, but that did not mean they were any less effective. Instead, they were viciously sharpened wooden stakes, the length of a man, driven into the ground at regular intervals, with the beginnings of a trench cut in front of them.

It didn't look like much, but it would certainly stop the brunch of a Yarmdon – or even monster – charge.

It was towards the wood where Lombard was guiding him, where Beam saw smoke rise into the air. He heard the fighting before he saw it, men shouting orders, and others crying out as they made their attacks. He heard the familiar goblin screams amidst it all as well.

As he drew nearer, Beam saw the source of the smoke. A fire upon which monster corpses were slowly burning, acting as a lure to keep the beasts in one place. Beam had wondered why they had not all streamed in toward a weaker point in the soldier's defence – for the men were by and large concentrated nearly completely at their camp by now – but now he had his answer.

Lombard saw his gaze. "The corpses that aren't burning are covered in oil," he explained. "No monster is going to be able to make use of them, and if they try, they'll be setting their digestive tracts on fire."

The oil made Beam a little envious. If he'd had that the night before, then perhaps he wouldn't have ended up in so much trouble. He wondered if that was merely one of the many benefits of being an official army – that you had such resources you could play around with.

They were nearing the edge of the forest by now, the camp was a little distance away, replaced by clear plains of grass, and the looming dark shadow of fur trees up ahead.

The soldier's line – eight squadrons of five men – were set up just a few steps away from the forest, enough that they could see into the tree, but so the branches and the like wouldn't get in the way.

The men were already hard at battle, with their spears lowered.

Beam saw a group of goblins chattering amongst the trees as they debated the best time to attack, whilst a lone Konbreaker was surrounded by two squadrons, as one drew its attention, whilst the other aimed to attack its undefended back.

There were three Gorebeasts as well, being handled by the other parties… and then there was Tolsey, amidst it all, giving orders to the sergeants of three squadrons, and taking their place on the line.

His own foe was a Gorebreaker and two more lesser goblins on top of it. He drew his sword, and stood in a stiff battle stance.

The Gorebreaker charged at him, and lithely, with a speed that Beam had never seen in any other man than Dominus, he sidestepped the Gorebreakers attack, and used the moment to cut down one of the goblins.

His strikes were stiff and precise, as though he had practised the same stroke thousands of times over, as part of a formal style.

The Gorebreaker growled at his lack of attention, and came lunging in at him from the back. Tolsey calmly dodged once more, this time landing a strike on the beast's side as it came streaming past.

"He's strong," Beam said, surprised.

"He's a knight of the Second Boundary," Lombard said, as though it was obvious that he would be strong.

Tolsey was aware of their presence, and hearing their words filled him with pride. He had to fight to keep the smile off his face, as he concentrated on the battle, keen to end the battle swiftly, and make a good impression on the Captain.

The wounded Gorebreaker was more hesitant to charge in now. It stopped looking to attack Tolsey directly, and more seemed to want to run around him, towards the scent of the monster corpses, and the promise of untapped power.