Temple Sword

Chapter 122 The Scavenger

1321th of St. John's Month (June), 6

Topolcany, Hungary

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The trebuchet fell silent, as did the clang of weapons and the din of battle.This sudden silence woke up Miklos Gutkled who was resting in the tent.

He had on his clothes and boots, and the blood was streaming down to his feet.After breaking his back in a torrential rain two hours earlier, he just took off his helmet, gloves and belt to sleep and put them on the chair next to him, at arm's length so he could reach for them instantly if needed.

"What's the matter?" he asked, sitting up in bed, to the servant who had appeared in the tent. "Why so quiet, James?"

Behind the boy, his attendants and captains entered the tent and interrupted excitedly:
"castle……"

"...on fire, my lord!"

"The city gate is also on fire!"

"It won't last long! We can attack!"

Miklos sprang to his feet in alarm, and his servants fastened his girdle on which hung his sword, dagger, and mace, his squires put on his helmet, and he himself thrust his hands into Dirt glove.

A servant handed him a glass of wine, which he drank in one gulp, and the attendant handed a large and heavy shield to Miklos' outstretched left hand.

The shield was originally decorated in his family's colors, but the red background and the silver wedges representing the fangs had by this time been worn beyond recognition from the wear and tear of many blows and parries.

In the blink of an eye, Miklos Gutkleder was physically and mentally ready to fight.On the way out, he picked up a one-handed ax decorated with lilies, tapped his shield twice, flexed his limbs, and nodded.

"let's go."

When he walked out of the pitch-black tent, the sun hurt his eyes instantly.He squinted at the crowd swarming in front of him: hundreds awaiting his orders, dirty, bloody, tattered, smoky-black.

He raised his lily-axe aloft, and roared like a lion, and those who waited outside roared with him.

The shield in his hand also vibrated amidst the roar, not only the hundreds of people crowded in front of him, but also thousands of people farther and farther behind also roared with him, like a monster that destroyed the world.

Miklos looked up at the castle behind his soldiers, several places were burning, and he looked back at the soldiers, they looked fearless.

Without needing words, he walked in silence, and his whole army moved with him.It had been almost a quarter of a year, two full moons, since their march north in April.

They besieged castle after castle without fail, muddy footprints at every step.Miklos set a tough pace for the campaign, he didn't allow his men to slack off, never lingering for a moment where it wasn't necessary, but at the same time he didn't allow himself to be more comfortable than his fighters.

He fought at their side, and when his servants prepared him a lord's feast after their capture of Bojnice, he merely shook his head, sharing food and wine with his men.

The army has not been home for a long time, they live in the siege camp, facing death every day.They were getting more and more ragged and worn out, and it was evident from their clothes, to their tents, to their eyes.

During this time and innumerable battles, the soldiers were united as one, and Miklos Gutkleder was not only the commander of the Siege of Taborchani, but also their father, their heart Beat in unison with him.

Miklos put down his hand and continued walking with firm steps.The people parted in front of Moses like the Red Sea in front of him, and then gathered around him in a tight formation, swiftly and neatly, without any signal or order, thousands of soldiers became orderly rows, columns and phalanx.

It was a treat, as long as it wasn't viewed from the battlements of a besieged castle.

Miklos and his soldiers stopped after walking for a while, knelt down, and bowed their heads to receive the blessing of the chaplain.He didn't pay attention to the priest's Latin greetings, he had his own prayer style and language, which he always did before every battle.

Oh God, look down on me!God, please speak to me!He murmured a secret prayer that no one else could hear.Ancient God, show your power, let me see your terrifying power!

"The flames are dying!" someone shouted. "The fire at the door is almost gone!"

"We must break in now!" said another voice. "Battering ram!"

Under the wooden roof covered with animal skins, a dozen people stood waiting for the commander's order. "Come!" Miklos shouted, leading his troops close behind the battering ram. "attack!"

As they approached, the noise grew louder: the crackling of devouring gates, the screams of defenders from the walls, the crash of arrows, spears, and stones falling from above, all intertwined into a hellish din .

It was the music of war, the only harsh music that really existed for Miklos as much as life.

"Fear not!" He held his shield high against the attack from above, trying to instill courage in the hearts of his warriors. "Don't be afraid, we'll be in soon! Go! Run, damn it, and shove the battering ram! Come on! For the king!"

"For the king!!" The soldiers in front responded and quickened their pace.The terribly heavy log swung on its wheels, rushing irresistibly towards its goal.

The gates of Taborciani Castle yielded at the first impact.The old and dry wooden structure was shattered, and the battering ram rushed directly into it.Miklos and his immediate guard charged into the city gate, and together they pushed the battering ram, smashing it into the enemy, the wall cracked, and Miklos threw himself on the defenders.

His heart was beating wildly and his stomach was constricting.The savage music in his ears grew further and further away, replaced by an eerie hum.

With a swing of the battle ax in his right hand, he drove into a soldier's shoulder.Miklos shuddered at the sensation of carving the weapon into living flesh, for him it was forbidden fruit.

If he couldn't be a soldier and lead a campaign in the name of the king, he might go mad, or become a criminal.He was an artist of killing and maiming, a true craftsman whose skill was unrivaled.

His ax must have been lodged in a bone, Miklos was unable to free it from the soldier's shoulder, so he let go of the handle and decapitated the screaming foe with the lower edge of his shield .

He had to do it because thousands were pushing behind him and he couldn't stop.Miklos quickly reached for the mace dangling beside his sword, parried an axe blow, and swung his right hand again, shattering a face he had never seen in his life.

Then he rushed up again, others were pushing him, and he was also pushing forward, constantly taking lives, and the strong smell of blood made his back numb.

"For God!" he cried, not even recognizing his own voice, "for Jesus Christ!"

Before Miklos could list all the names, a farmer's knife slashed from the opposite direction.Before he could defend himself, his right arm was cut, several links of his chain mail were broken, and his mace fell to the ground and disappeared under the feet of the crowd.

Miklos drew his dagger and swooped down before his opponent struck again with a farmer's knife, stabbing the weapon in his eye, killing him instantly.He also did not draw his dagger, but drew his sword, and continued to attack the phalanx of the defenders.

He could barely feel his new wounds, and he couldn't see the city walls. He kept looking at the environment in front of him, who was with him, and who wanted to take his life.

Progress slowed, the crowd began to thin out, and the ground became slippery with blood, feces, urine, and vomit.

Miklos was covered in blood, but he couldn't tell which was his own and which was someone else's.Metallic moisture seeps into his mouth, but he doesn't mind, as long as he's moving, alive, and killing, it's fine.

Finally, with more space around him, and being able to wield his weapon more freely, he dropped his shield, grasped the double-edged longsword with both hands, and formed a half-bladed circle with swift movements, drawing the sword that came before him. Man cut to pieces.

The number of resisters dwindled, and more and more fled or raised their hands in surrender.The besiegers had already begun storming towers, halls, and other buildings, and began looting.Slowly, Miklos' hearing became clear, his breathing slowed as his heartbeat slowed, and the new wound began to ache.

These are telling him that everything is over.

He was a little disappointed, because he thought there would be a longer and more difficult battle, so he didn't order the army to stop immediately, but asked his men to kill a few more people who had surrendered, and he walked among the dead, collecting them weapons.

Miklos wiped the stowed weapon on his clothes, tidied it up, and fastened it on his belt again.

By the time he reached the door, found his lily ax and drew it from the corpse's shoulder, Topolchani's castle had fallen into relative silence.

All he could hear were the cheers of his men and the screams of some women, those who had been unable or unwilling to flee the castle before the siege were now the prey of the besiegers.

"Well done," Miklos Guttklaed smiled, waving to his captains, "We've won again."

Some of them started to cheer, but the commander waved them off.

"Don't waste time celebrating, we still have things to do." He subconsciously wiped his forehead with his gauntleted hand, only to realize that there was no way to wipe off the blood on his head.

Miklos did not give the order until the most important men had gathered around him.

"Lajos, Paul, organize the removal of the dead immediately! George, take care of the wounded! Lotus, Timothy, Stephen, you stop the looters at once, this is now the king's castle, no stealing is allowed, I will chop Under their hands, tell everyone!

Sandor, put out those fires that are still burning!Andrei, take care of the prisoners with your servants and don't let anyone slip away from me.what else?Oh yes... Jack! "

"Here I am, my lord," said the man who had been standing just behind him.

"Ah, okay!" Miklos turned around, the excitement of the previous battle still remained on his body. "You have to write a letter to the king and have the fastest rider send it to Timisoara.

Tell them that we have managed to capture the second important town of Mate Chak after Aponi, Uglotz, Privej and Bojnice.

Now the road to Levice and Trenčín is clear.See if this is enough for His Majesty to finally join us in the north with his army..."

An hour later, a courier put a sealed letter in his saddle bag and galloped out of the castle gate of Topolchani on a fast horse. The early summer wind blew the red and white of the Anjou family above the castle. Banner with stripes and golden lilies on a blue background.

Two weeks later, on the ninth day of No. 20 of the month of St. John, the king's army left Timisoara for the highlands.

(End of this chapter)