Chapter 53

Gasper was nigh growling as he led his men alongside Viper's towards the north. Each breath that came out had to make some noise as it passed through his throat. His throat that felt as though it was stuffed with nothing but the fires of anger.

He hadn't expected any of the bandits to have the gall to stay in the fortress after the battle. It would be like challenging the Viscount. But Lucas had surprised him. Gasper now knew that the former knight had likely brought all his men from the very beginning. Gasper wasn't the only one who'd brought all of his men and lied about it, it seemed.

He shook his head after receiving a few inquisitive glances from Viper. He wanted to complain that Lucas had hoodwinked them, but he held the words back. Viper was too occupied with the possible gains that could come from Lucas's absence from the north. The chiefs wouldn't have to worry about Lucas anymore, since he'd 'foolishly' pit his crew against the lord of Ard.

Any attempts to force the Viper's thoughts away from the coming gains would likely garner Gasper the bandit's suspicion more than anything else. His behavior so far had already made Viper thoughtful, occasionally eying him with those dubious gazes.

He had expected Harland and Viper to object to Lucas's decision to stay in the fortress. But he'd neglected the possible territory the two chiefs stood to gain from Lucas's decision. Harland and Edith had already been eying Lucas's territory from before, while Viper was closer to the former knight's camp than anyone else.

No one wondered why the tempered knight would choose to stay in the supposed death trap instead of returning to his camp though. The two foolish chiefs never stopped to think for a moment and tell themselves that Lucas was never the dimwit. Why would he choose not to return to his camp?

'Because no one would return. Not a single one of you will return to reap those anticipated gains.'

The two crews moved separately on the return march just like they had done on the march towards the fortress. Gasper and Viper rode beside each other though. The sun was setting by the time they caught sight of the forest.

Gasper breathed in deeply as he glanced at the forest then his eyes landed on Viper.

The latter noticed the eyes trained on him and met Gasper's eyes. The bandit chief wasn't smiling but his face carried visible delight from today's events. As his eyes read Gasper's gaze, his joyous face turned into an anxious one, then an understanding one.

"I didn't want to believe that I would be receiving that gaze someday," Viper said, chuckling with the voice of a man submitted to his fate. "I was always the one throwing it at others during their last moments."

Gasper was taken aback. Viper had read his gaze in the brief moment their eyes had met. Perhaps it was the bandit's instinct. A man who'd lived on the edge of death for so long was likely to have gained a sense for his surroundings. Or perhaps Viper was just that good at reading people when it came to betrayal. Gasper gulped, his mouth sealed because he had no words to utter.

"Surprised, are you?" Viper said, shaking his head with a wry smile. "Well, it won't matter, will it? Even if I have found out now, my fate is still sealed, is it not?"

Gasper got a hold of himself and his gaze hardened. "It is indeed," he said. He didn't want the bandit chief to have any hope. More hopelessness meant less struggling. Gasper decided to test the waters though. "You don't intend to fight? Won't you try to kill me at least?"

Viper chuckled again. "I doubt I can kill you." He glanced at Master Rudolf who was riding farther behind. "I'm not the best swordsman. Even if I best you, I doubt I will have the time to kill you before your hound is upon my throat."

Gasper glanced back at Master Rudolf. The latter seemed to have noticed that something was amiss and was trying to get his horse closer to the two chiefs.

"You have at least twice the men," Viper continued. "And I doubt you've left anything to chance. I know a good carving when I see one. Do me one last favour though." He turned and looked at the forest. "Tell me who's hiding amidst those woods."

Gasper hesitated for a moment but realized that Viper would find soon anyway. There was no need to hide it anymore. He still felt odd as he said the words though. "The Viscount."

"Ah," Viper raised his brows with an affirming nod. "Not very unexpected. That damn old knight outsmarted us, after all. I'd wager he knew and didn't even spare us a word of the matter."

"I believe so too," Gasper nodded, awaiting any sudden moves from the bandit chief. However, the latter did nothing that alerted him. He didn't reach for his sword, neither did he turn around and scream a command at his men. Viper simply wore a serene smile.

Gasper had a hard time understanding the smile on Viper's face. Why was the bandit chief so submitted to his fate? The smile on Viper's face would sometimes turn from serene to sardonic and almost gloating, as if the bandit chief was reminding himself of something.

Gasper knew that Viper had grasped his place through betrayal in the first place. The bandit had no right to complain about today's treatment, and complain he did not. Perhaps he was resigned knowing that he would have to taste what he had cooked many times before.

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Gerald was among his men in the forest, awaiting the arrival of Gasper and the two northern crews. Robard was likely lying in ambush just like him right now but in the west.

Gerald kept his eyes trained on the southern horizon. And soon he was rewarded for it. He saw an army of stragglers moving north. It didn't take long for him to get a clearer sight of them. He saw two crews marching together but unmerged. Ahead of them, two men were leading.

Gerald easily recognized Gasper who wore dark leather armor. Beside him rode another man who Gerald assumed was one of the chiefs. But something was odd. There was only that single crew marching beside Gasper's men, and only a single chief riding beside him. Where was the other one?

As they came closer to the forest, the two crews came to an abrupt stop. Gerald spied Gasper and the bandit chief talking. He assumed they were speaking because they seemed to be looking at each other with their horses halted.

Gerald didn't delay. He turned to one of the Warriors of the elite corps beside him. "Tell the men to ready themselves. We'll charge soon."

The Warrior nodded and word was soon passed among the soldiers hiding in the woods.

Gerald gave his men a few moments to prepare themselves for the charge. They weren't in an open field where a command could easily be heard and passed around. If he charged suddenly, he could find himself running out of the forest with the lesser half of his men.

After some time passed and the two crews didn't move, Gerald shouted the command. "Charge!"

He mounted his horse and watched as his men flooded out of the forest towards the bandits. The cavalry were the first to rush out, charging in a wedge formation towards the smaller crew of the two. His men knew who they would attack and who would help them during the battle.

The infantry followed. Then came Gerald and the elite corps, mounted. He glanced back at the Warriors and said, "We will wait until the first clash. The bandits will be panicked. But there might be some resistance from the more composed enemies. We will handle such nuisances."

The Warriors nodded, and Gerald moved his anxious eyes to the enemies again. He wanted to focus on the battle for now, but he couldn't help but wonder what had happened. Had one of the crews collapsed during their assault on Edgar? That wasn't something he could believe. Edgar had capable veterans under his command, but his disadvantage was too glaring to be ignored. His numbers had shrunk too much, and many of his men have been wounded. It was nearly impossible for a mercenary band weakened to such an extent to wipe out one of the crews during the defense.

He watched as his cavalry crashed into the panicked bandits. Gasper's men struck when they were least expected. They came from behind the smaller crew that was facing the obvious, louder threat.

A massacre ensued. Gerald had expected some form of resistance, but he didn't need to move with the elite corps even once. From beginning to end, the battle was no more than a slaughter. The ambushed crew was grinded between Gerald's regiment and Gasper's crew. Outnumbered and shocked, the bandits either surrendered or attempted to flee. The runners were cut down during their escape by Gerald's men. And considering that most of the ambushed crew chose to flee, there wasn't much of a battle.

Gerald rode towards Gasper who was standing at the head of his crew, watching as his men cleaned the field of battle from any possible living dead. They would stab each fallen bandit in the neck once to ascertain their death. Any that were pretending to be dead would soon regret it.

Gerald soon reached Gasper and Uncle Rudolf who were mounted beside each other.

"My lord," Gasper said.

Uncle Rudolf nodded to Gerald, and he could tell that there was a smile under the mask without seeing it.

Gerald nodded to both Gasper and his old steward. "Is someone missing?" He ran his eyes over the field of corpses.

A troubled expression appeared on Gasper's face. He pressed his lips then said, "The deserters stayed in the fortress, my lord."

"What?" Gerald gaped.

"Their leader, Lucas, insisted on staying in the fortress. I tried to persuade him to abandon the idea, but he seemed to have already suspected something, and I didn't want to alert the other chiefs, my lord."

Gerald gritted his teeth. Then he calmed himself and took a breath, closing his eyes in contemplation. He'd never expected one of the crews to be daring enough to stay in the fortress. They were supposed to be attacking Edgar behind his back and escaping back to their camps before his arrival. To stay in the fortress after defeating Edgar was like inviting him to wipe them out. He hadn't expected one of the crews to blatantly challenge him by simply taking the fortress. It meant that, like Gasper had said, the leader of the deserters had his doubts.

A frown unknowingly painted itself on Gerald's face as he thought. "Just the deserters crew is in the fortress?"

"Yes," Gasper said, wearing an apologetic expression. "What will we do, my lord?"

The sun had set and night descended as they spoke. The ambush had taken place during sunset, and now there was hardly any light in the sky.

Gerald steeled himself. This was the unexpected, again. He had to remind himself one more time that not everyone was a fool, even among bandits. "We will march towards the fortress tonight and surround it. I doubt they would try to ambush us in the open. We'll rest for the night then barter with the deserters in the morning. They will have to surrender. They know they can resist but not survive in that fortress." He turned around and signaled for his men to prepare. He was about to urge his horse to move when he heard the words that promised him more grief.

"Lucas isn't the only chief that hasn't acted as expected, my lord."