The God King's Legacy (God King Chronicles Book 1) by Richard Nell

Author:Richard Nell [Nell, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-09T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

It took three days to gather the men and put them in some semblance of marching order. Kurt didn’t concern himself with the camp followers, knowing many would load up their lives and keep on the army’s heels regardless, no real knowledge or interest of where they were going. Or of what a shit and blood filled disaster it might be.

He sighed and squinted at the swiftly rising sun. A thin, grey layer of cloud had rolled in from the East, and the smell of moisture filled the air already with the promise of a wet, miserable day.

“We could always wait.”

Torsten sat mounted next to him in full military kit, expressionless. Kurt still sensed the man’s amusement and glared.

“Haw.” He spurred his charger, and the huge roan snorted and sped to a trot.

Kurt wiped all trace of annoyance from his face and mind, winking at a few of the recruits as he rode down the line. The spitting rain didn’t bother him, or the damn camp women weeping their goodbyes, not now, not while they were actually bloody moving.

“We march till noon, gentlemen. Follow your captains, do what they tell you. We’ll be out of Keevland before sunset.”

He made the gesture to proceed, the two standard bearers waved their faded flags, and the army drummer beat a quick, steady march.

“Fine day for a walk, Colonel,” Harmon called as Kurt rode by him.

“Aye, and go fuck yourself, soldier!” Kurt called pleasantly back. The men around him laughed.

Marching was tough business even without the rain. Nearly every soldier in the Eastern army carried a musket or pike and sword, as well as an iron helm and cuirass. Those with full kit carried an ammo pouch, a kettle, blanket, leather tools, hatchet, and a few days of water and rations. In total their equipment weighed over sixty pounds.

Kurt’s precious horses, in comparison, carried very little. They held more or less the same gear as the infantry, plus their rider, but to the strong beasts this was a lesser load. Fighting against tribesmen meant small skirmishes and scout-battles, and so Kurt expected his cavalry would do most of the fighting. He wanted them light and fresh, and didn’t much care how anyone felt about it. Anyway, by now the veterans knew the deal well enough.

All day the men and horses marched. Despite an intermittent light drizzling from the clouds, the weather turned out to be less unpleasant than Kurt feared. The infantry sang marching songs, talked and joked, and for the most part seemed sleek and healthy save for a few of the skinnier recruits. The rough dirt road before them curved for several miles, and what remained of the East Army left the edge of empire.

Kurt’s horse took the first step beyond into tall, yellow grass. The land East of Keevland was composed mostly of flat or rolling plain, though beyond that they’d find woods and valleys with rivers more like arteries than veins. Entering tribal territory brought a subtle but clear shift in mood for the men.

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