Harry Potter and the Berserker

Chapter 12

Disclaimer- Harry Potter is owned b J.K. Rowling, and Berserk is owned by Kentaro Miura. I own nothing.

Doldrey. Midland's strongest fortress, now currently in the hands of Chuder forces and current destination for The Band of the Hawks. It was Midland's easternmost stronghold, built in a very arid climate and into the side of a mountain. Supposedly, it was impenetrable.

But that wasn't what concerned Harry, it was Griffith. For some reason, Griffith had denied any additional troops of Midland's royal army and insisted that the numbers the Hawks possessed would be enough. He spoke like he had a personal stake in the matter that went beyond any promotion or a new title.

After a brief talk with Casca, Harry found out why. "We weren't always this large in numbers. To build a mercenary band, you need funding. A lord named Gennon offered if Griffith agreed to his terms." She left the next part unspoken, and Harry picked up on the hidden meaning. He knew enough to know that things like that happened to women all the time in Midland, but to boys and men too... it was disgusting! Would something like that happen to him if they lost a battle?

"You think he just wants to get revenge?" Harry had inquired.

Casca looked ahead to where Griffith rode. "I don't know. All I can say is that he seems rather eager to take Doldrey, that's it."

"But he has a plan," Harry reminded. "He always does."

"I know," Casca said. "Speaking of which, we should get ready to break away from the main force before we cross to the plain outside of Doldrey," Casca shouted a command to her men, who in turn rode away from the ensemble to carry out their part of Griffith's plan. Harry was about to do the same, but he heard Griffith calling to him from the front of the host.

Wondering what Griffith wanted of him; Harry went to ride next to the young man. "Riding out with Casca I see."

"Yeah. Do you need me somewhere else?" Harry asked.

"No," Griffith answered, his voice lacked its playful edge but kept a hint of mischievousness. "I just had something that might come in handy." He opened a satchel on his saddle and pulled out an average garden snake. "I took it from the gardens in Windham before we rode off."

"Okay," Harry said as Griffith handed him the serpent, which seemed more comfortable in Harry's grasp. "How is this snake supposed to come in handy?"

"Yours and Casca's force is going to be the infiltration unit while the rest of us draw Chuder's forces out of Doldrey," Griffith recited the battle plan. "But sending your division in essentially blind would do neither of us any good. However, this little serpent would be dismissed without a second thought."

Harry looked at the snake which curled around his hand and back to Griffith whose blue eyes held a glint of brilliance. "You want me to- tell it to spy for us?" Harry whispered the last part.

"You have a unique gift," was Griffith's answer. "Use it."

The sight before General Boscogn was a disgrace of a knight. Sir Adon Corbowitz, a knight only due to his family name had little right to brag. Even with the support of a hundred men, Adon had been inept to kill two soldiers in a forest. Chuder was renowned for its military history; the capture of Doldrey, the fortress they now stood in was a prime example. For the century-long war that had been fought with Midland, thousands of Chuder soldiers had given their lives for the expansion of the empire, they had been the ones to die with honor.

And then there was Adon.

Adon. The misogynist blowhard coward that was so inept a warrior he relied more on his name than his skills to be considered a true soldier of Chuder. Listening to him run his mouth was giving Boscogn a headache.