Hello, everyone. I hope you are enjoying the story. I would like to ask you to leave your reviews so that we can get the star rating on this platform. As always, please be as honest as possible, as I need your opinion to improve.
-----------------------------
If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
-------------------------------
April passed in the blink of an eye, and the orders kept coming. I even began receiving custom commissions from some soldiers of the local themata, although for the most part it was the wealthier members who asked me to sell them steel swords. Apparently, the strategos' sword had not gone unnoticed, and several orders followed, along with commissions from the local tagmata, which served as the emperor's mobile elite force in the region and was responsible for securing the road toward Bulgarian territory.
My forge had become a hotspot among the wealthy, as I was one of the few smiths capable of working steel without taking months to deliver a product. Thanks to the modifications I had made to the furnaces, we could reach much higher temperatures and truly melt the steel instead of merely carburizing iron and producing poor-quality steel.
From time to time, I could earn up to eight gold coins for barely two days of work, since the most difficult part was simply shaping the blade and sharpening it, avoiding the endless labor other smiths endured for days just to produce an acceptable sword.
For the first time, Adrianople began to run out of blacksmith apprentices. When I hired the last twenty who were still begging for work making nails or other minor tasks, I put them almost exclusively on civil repairs—carts, tools, and small commissions—bringing my workforce to fifty people.
With income now approaching two hundred gold coins after paying wages and material costs, I began spending heavily on military equipment purchased from local merchants and craftsmen. I acquired one hundred padded jackets, two hundred pairs of boots, several quivers of bolts, commissioned pavise-style shields—though they would only be delivered later—two hundred pairs of leather gloves, and one hundred padded coifs. I practically spent all my income equipping the hundred men who now lived near the lands that belonged to my father.
I had also exhausted my remaining savings building a small military camp on the outskirts of the lands near the river. Tents were raised, a palisade constructed, and two watchtowers built, along with leveling an area for a training field.
Now I had a group in constant training, defending my forge and, by extension, my family's home, while the forces of the themata focused on guarding the frontier. Rumors indicated that Bulgarian attempts to cross the border were increasing, though for now they were limited to raiding bands. Even so, the frontier was far too extensive for barely a thousand men to watch, since between the themata and the tagmata, imperial forces did not even reach five thousand troops and had to protect cities and trade routes, leaving many border villages completely exposed to Bulgarian raids.
"Good. Turn to the right," I ordered, signaling the spearmen at the front to change direction.
The spearmen complied, though clumsily, shifting their formation and pointing all their spears to the right, while the second line rested their spears over the shoulders of the men in front.
"Compress the line, lock shields… and brace yourselves as if horses were charging straight at you," I ordered again, moving along the sides of the formation, watching how the spearmen adjusted.
Amid stumbling and collisions, they obeyed, compressing the formation and locking shield to shield, while the front line crouched to plant their spears into the ground.
"Good. Open a square in the center for the crossbowmen," I commanded. With difficulty they complied, forming a narrow space into which the crossbowmen moved and took position with their weapons.
"Enemies on your left. All crossbows, loose your bolts on my signal," I said, raising my hand toward a straw dummy mounted on a post topped with a horse's head.
I dropped my hand, and forty crossbows released their bolts at the target. Several struck true, others missed by little, and some missed badly.
"Check your crossbows. One of them seems to be pulling slightly to the left," I said, looking at the crossbowmen as they began inspecting their weapons, until one stepped out of formation and brought his to me.
"Yes, it's off… there. Return to your position," I said, adjusting the crossbow and handing it back.
A month of training did not work miracles, but at least they would not disgrace themselves against bandits, who were likely trained just as poorly—or worse. With sixty spearmen and forty crossbowmen, I could easily hold a position, provided we were not overwhelmingly outnumbered.
Training continued for another hour until a rider arrived at full speed.
"Is Kapetanios Basil here?" the rider asked, wearing fine Byzantine lamellar armor.
"I'm the one you're looking for," I replied, turning to face him.
"Strategos Leon Skleros summons you at once. We are marching north, so I ask that you travel immediately. The strategos has missions for you, Kapetanios," the rider said.
"I don't know what the strategos wants, but rest and prepare a supply wagon. If we have to move, we must be ready," I ordered, mounting one of the twenty horses kept in the stable, where we housed draft animals as well as the three warhorses I had retained.
I rode hard toward Adrianople and soon encountered part of the themata army fully armed, along with units of the local tagmata advancing north in marching columns.
I scanned the formation for the strategos and quickly spotted him riding alongside a unit of imperial cataphracts.
No one stopped me as I approached. With my equipment, I looked almost like another cataphract—the only difference being that I wore a steel plate cuirass instead of Byzantine lamellar armor.
"Strategos," I said as I drew alongside him.
"Kapetanios Basil…" the strategos replied, lifting the metal mail that covered his face.
"You sent for me," I said as I began riding alongside him, once the cataphracts opened a gap for me.
"An exotic suit of armor?" the strategos remarked, glancing at my steel plate cuirass.
"Very well… I have reliable information that Bulgarian troops are massing near the frontier. We do not know whether they will attack, but they are concentrating along the entire line. We need everyone available watching their movements, in case they break the truce or attempt limited raids," he said.
"But my forces are meant to defend part of Adrianople. We are not border guards," I pointed out.
"I know… but I need numbers," he replied. "I will leave ten men guarding your forge. It is far too important to risk it being looted—especially when you are arming both the tagmata and the thema with steel. Cross the Evros and head north. You will meet one of my tourmarches there with a thousand men. Obey him in everything he orders," he said, signaling that I was dismissed.
"As you command, my strategos," I replied, spurring my horse and riding back toward my forge.
I returned quickly and found my men ready to march. It had taken effort, but I had finally beaten discipline into those bastards.
Without many orders, we loaded two wagons with dried meat, flour, and water for the march, along with all the camp tents.
We crossed the bridge where two rivers converged and began marching north, passing through several small villages that still bore the scars of recent raids. The closer we came to the frontier, the more ruined the settlements became, until we finally saw smoke in the distance. It was the tourmarches' camp—or part of it, at least—since the thousand men the strategos had mentioned were nowhere in sight.
I presented myself, showing my mercenary contract, and the few guards watching the camp let me through. I advanced until I found the tourmarches, who was listening to scouts reporting on the terrain.
"Here… there were around three hundred riders… and here I saw close to four hundred men in a camp… and here…" the scout was saying before stopping when he noticed me.
"Tourmarches… Kapetanios Basil, in service to the strategos of Macedonia and the imperial army," I said, introducing myself.
"Yes… I was informed a mercenary unit would arrive to support us," he replied. "Tell me, how many men do you command?"
"One hundred," I answered flatly.
"Better than nothing," he said bluntly. "I need you to watch this hill," he added, pointing to a rise near the Bulgarian camp, where roughly four hundred men were gathered.
"They outnumber me four to one… what do I do if the Bulgarians actually attack?" I asked, studying the map.
"They shouldn't attack. But if they do, buy time. All the time you can, so we can prepare our forces," the tourmarches replied.
"Very well," I said, grimacing at the lack of any attempt to deny the obvious—that we were expendable, little more than cannon fodder to them.
Without wasting time and while the sun was still up, we moved toward the hill they had indicated. But upon arrival, I noticed a far better position not far away: a higher, steeper hill, relatively close to the river in case we needed water.
So we lost no time. We raised the tents immediately, used the stakes we already had prepared, and built a palisade covering the two possible approaches facing our position. I placed observation posts and crossbowmen controlling both access routes, securing every point they might try to climb.
Without delay, I ordered nearby trees cut for firewood, choosing the driest ones, and also younger trees to continue fortifying the area. We also had a trench dug into the hillside to make the approach even more difficult.
We watched the Bulgarians, and the Bulgarians watched us. Our observation point was so good that we could see their entire camp, to the point of spotting when some of them went into the woods and squatted to relieve themselves among the bushes.
In our case, we had a latrine downhill, so all waste fell off to one side of the slope. It wasn't pleasant, but it was far better than keeping it close.
Several times, small groups of Bulgarians came out and tried to provoke us into attacking. They shouted things we couldn't make out due to the distance. From time to time, we had to move at night, using the darkness to receive supplies sent by the tourmarches or to send small groups to fetch water. Other than that, we did not move for anything. As eager as the Bulgarians seemed to start a fight, even they recognized that our position was too defensible.
Two weeks passed in tense stillness, watching as now and then some Bulgarian left their camp to hurl insults, trying to lure someone into exposing themselves.
When I saw a cavalry unit arrive, my stomach tightened as I realized it was heavy cavalry.
"Shit…" I muttered, watching them. "We're on a hill. They won't charge—that would be stupid." I moved to count their numbers.
I immediately sent a messenger to the tourmarches' camp requesting reinforcements or permission to withdraw, but the bastard only sent more supplies and orders to hold the position. He had no men to spare.
That day was especially tense. I let everyone sleep or take naps so they would be fresh if combat came, while those on watch remained fully alert.
From our rear, a shipment arrived from my forge, and I immediately distributed everything that had come: four mail hauberks, several pavises from recent orders, additional crossbows, and hundreds of bolts. Everything was made ready as we prepared ourselves.
The next day, I saw that the Bulgarian heavy cavalry had formed at the base of the hill and were preparing to advance—but they had dismounted and would attack on foot.
I did not know what to expect, but I ordered everyone to eat double rations while we prepared for a long day.
-----------------------------
If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
-------------------------------