The Manticore Hunter

II

Stepping precariously through the muddied ground of the temporary military camp, set up by Sir Vermund and Sir Searmundr, Ethelston remembered why he disliked spending time in them. The stale smell of body odour and horse manure was in stark contrast to that of the brothel he had spent the night before.

Silk dresses and feather beds were now replaced by weeks in leather armour and beds of straw. The thought made him shudder; hopefully, the pay would be worth the sacrifice.

As he entered the camp, Ethelston studied the twenty troops practising various drills in preparation for their engagement against the mythical beast, the Manticore.

He watched as they thrust their two-metre-long spears in between their tightly knit shield walls. They lowered their shields after an intense drill and Ethelston felt some regret knowing that most of these men, the oldest only around twenty winters, would not be returning home. He could not question their abilities as foot soldiers it was apparent they were trained for fighting in a battle, but their disciplined structure, excellent timing and coordinated efforts would be useless against the unpredictability of the beast known as the Manticore.

Dismounting from his horse, he guided it towards the biggest tent in the centre of the camp. Ethelston then studied the six other mercenaries Mutt had managed to unearth. Despite them all being hired to work together, even at a distance their tremendous levels of distrust and resentment were evident. These types of mercenaries were always capable of functioning as individuals, rarely as an effective cohort.

One or two of them noticed Ethelston casually walking past. He could feel their glaring eyes studying him, trying to work out his strengths and weaknesses and whether he was a man to stick close to or the very definition of Manticore fodder. As he returned their gaze, Ethelston knew that by the end of the day, he would undoubtedly have some allies and some enemies.

Among the group sat two archers. One held a composite bow, rarely seen in the Isovine or Ruvian Empires, the archer must have travelled from the east, close to the Sea of Sorrows. He had heard rumours of some of the archers from that region, how they could sit on horseback and easily hit targets from one hundred yards away. Her smooth muscular olive-tanned toned body made her look like a goddess and extremely valuable within a fight, yet her dark mysterious eyes drew Ethelston's attention instantly toward them.

Whether he wanted to investigate her personally or not, was irrelevant, she looked like an efficient killer, and for that reason, Ethelston knew that she was essential to being an ally.

All thoughts of the dark-skinned Artemis flitted away as soon as he reached the tent and spotted the bright curly hair of the enthusiastic Mutt. Now that the day was much brighter than the tavern and Ethelston was proceeding further into a state of soberness, he only just noticed how freckled the young squire was. As his smile lit up his face, the darkened spots pronounced themselves like tiny little islands on a sea of pale flesh.

"Ethelston, you came!" Mutt bounced as he watched Ethelston tie up his horse on the fence rail. "I wasn't sure if you'd remember our conversation."

"Bianca has ways of making you remember things," Ethelston chuckled.

Mutt guided Ethelston past two sentries and into the tent where the two knights stood discussing tactics and examining maps. Neither stirred as Mutt and Ethelston stood waiting to be spoken to.

This wasn't Ethelston's first encounter with nobles; they were deliberately making them wait as a way to solidify their need to establish superiority.

While they discussed among themselves it gave Ethelston a chance to study them.

Smells of lavender and lemon strongly scented the tent, designed to mask the fragrant smells within the rest of the camp.

The tent was well laid out, with servants attending to their tasks throughout the room. There was no jewellery or coins on display, but carefully hidden in the back of the room, at least two large oak chests were barely visible. They were indeed not short of wealth, and this trip, if successful, would likely be very lucrative.