Order of the Sword - Tironis

[Telum]

The sun was low in the sky. Few clouds were present as the day’s first winds began to blow across the courtyard. I was with a small group of tironis, or young soldiers, as we muttered amongst ourselves about this day’s scouting patrol. A bright sun meant many shadows, especially in the forest. Shadows would help conceal us; however, it will also help to conceal our adversaries. Our splintmail armor, colored with dark greens and browns, will help us to blend in with the forest. Yet, the adversaries we will likely face today will track us more on sound than sight. Unfortunately for the tironis, the adversaries do not make any sound until after we strike. This fact that has been drummed, repeatedly, into the heads of these future proeliatores, or warriors.

A tall proeliator, also in camouflaged splintmail, approached the group. We all snapped to attention, facing the man. His name was Sergeant Arturo, one of the training masters for the Gladii Ordo, the Order of the Sword.

“Tironis,” he began, “as you are well aware, we will be patrolling today from the east to the southeast. Recent patrols have reported little to no contact with our ‘neighbors’, let alone any of the orc tribes from the mountains northeast of us. However, you must remain vigilant at all times. Complacency means death, for you, or your fellow tiro. Understood?”

We all, in unison, responded with a, “yes sir!”

“Any questions?” asked Arturo. At this point in our training the tironis had learned that we should not have any additional questions. All of the pertinent information had already been given. Arturo nodded. He would have reminded us to ensure our weapons were primed and armor was properly donned and greased to ensure we made minimal noise as we moved. Again, at this point in training, the tironis knew better.

The sergeant turned, with his back to the group, and called out, “March!” The sergeant and the group of five tironis proceeded from the courtyard to the main gate. From there we marched down the hill that the Arx, the great citadel of the Order, rested upon, through the multiple rings of protective walls, and down to the river Fluxio. We proceeded across the great stone bridge and into the town that served to supply the Order with all of its material needs, of which the Order was sworn to protect. From there we turned and marched towards the eastern gate of the large wall that surrounded the entire town.

Once we were through the gate, across the field and into the woods we shifted into our normal patrol formation. Arturo moved to the center of the group with two tironis in front and three in the rear. Our circuit today, as briefed, will head towards the east then circle around to the south, then northwest again to the eastern gate. The lands from the north to the east and south of the Arx were the most dangerous because of the orcs, beasts, and wild elves that dwelled there. A patrol, at this point in our training, to the northwest would be useless since that area is home to wood elves, a much friendlier and civilized version of elf.

The patrol followed a well-worn trail, however, we moved from tree-shadow to tree-shadow, practicing our stealth… As much as we could considering our current armor. We continued this into late morning. Each hour we would stop for a small rest, drink some water or eat a small snack for energy, swap places in the formation, and continue on. With the sun high in the sky and rays of light piercing the trees’ canopy, peering into the shadows became more difficult. While I liked the training this would give the tironis I also knew that the wild elves could and would use the light to great effect.

No sooner had I completed the thought when an arrow, silently, flew in from our right and struck Sergeant Arturo’s right pauldron. The angle of entry and the shape of the guard, luckily, directed the arrowhead away from his shoulder. The impact, however, was more than enough to get his attention. He did not need to say a word. Everyone in the group, even the two at the very front and very back, heard the arrow’s impact. We all dropped into crouching positions, holding up our light crossbows, ready to launch our bolts. Arturo reached over his shoulder and broke off the arrow’s shaft. He’d extract the head later. Without having to look at the feathers of the arrow we knew who shot it.

“Wild elves,” Arturo whispered to the tironis nearby. More arrows, this time from all directions, flew in at the group. The shots were all aimed from the tironis’s fronts or sides. Our large shields were slung over our backs, thus freeing both hands to wield the crossbows. Even in our crouching positions, the group moved back and forth, making the elves’ shots more difficult.

There was movement to the left of the trail. I saw the direction of the moving shadow and launched a bolt. Before it had even hit the tree next to the elf I had smoothly pulled back the string, locked it, and loaded a bolt.

The only noise that could be heard was the impacts of arrows amongst the tironis. The tironis had not fired a shot thus far.

Out of the corner of his eye, Arturo saw a shape land behind me. With blinding speed he turned his crossbow and trained it on the wild elf. The forest dweller, knowing a straight thrust to the back would be useless with the shield in the way, had his arm raised over me for a downward thrust, aimed at the bottom of my neck. Before Arturo could pull the trigger and before the elf could land his deadly blow I jumped back abruptly. I collided with the elf whose blade hand was pushed out in front. The tip of the short sword hit my breastplate, skidding of to the side as the elf’s body tumbled over me.

Without hesitation I slammed the butt of my crossbow into the elf’s head. With the elf dazed I drew a dagger with my off-hand and drove it into the elf’s chest, ending its life. Quickly sheathing the blade I brought my crossbow back up, looking for more targets.

“Well done, Tiro Telum.” Said Arturo, impressed with my swift action. I nodded in thanks. It always felt good to receive praise, albeit rarely, from a veteran such as Sergeant Arturo.

“Box formation!” bellowed the sergeant. Within seconds our group closed in around the sergeant. Four of us closed in and turned our backs to the sergeant, covering four approach directions. In the center were the sergeant and the fifth tiro. This tiro, Otho, was our best marksman with the crossbow and, quite possibly, our best swordsman. Both needed skills if we wish to one day become full-fledged Proeliatores.

A young-looking elf landed on the trail about a few dozen yards from my position. She did not carry a bow. Rather, she wielded a curved short sword. As soon as she hit the ground her nimble legs launched her towards us. I launched a bolt at her. She easily leapt over it. I quickly reloaded and launched another. She dodged my second shot with little effort. Before I could load a third bolt she dodged another bolt, this one launched by Otho, she was at my position bringing her right-handed blade in a downward arc at me. I lifted my crossbow to deflect the blade. This, however, was a feint, as she pulled out a dagger from behind her and brought it in thrust.

I leapt up, pushing her short sword as I went, and lifting my right leg to drive my knee into her belly. Her dagger was turned away by the cuisse of my armor. She was able, however, to jump back before my knee connected. She landed and promptly sprinted back towards me. I heard Otho order, “drop left” over my shoulder. As the elf approached I dropped and rolled to the left. Waiting for her was Otho with long sword in hand. He thrust the tip out towards the wild elf. She nimbly danced around it. Soon their blades collided.

I loaded another bolt as I rose to a knee. By now every member of the group was engaged, with elves either shooting arrows into our midst or elves engaging us with their blades. I saw an elf drop between Otho and Arturo. He made no sound as his feet touched the ground, with his back towards me but facing the sergeant. I immediately shot a bolt at him. It hit the elf in his shoulder blade, pitching him towards the sergeant’s left. Arturo also has his sword out and he brought it down in a swift chop, killing the elf.

The tiro to my right had dropped to the ground, blood pooling around his chest. Another elf stood over, blade red with the man’s blood. I slung my crossbow and pulled out my sword and shield. Leaping to the fallen tiro’s place I engaged the savage elf.

Like the female fighting Otho, this elf moved with speed and grace, easily dodging my sword thrusts and swings. Like the wood elves of the northwest, these elves moved with an economy of motion. Never meeting an attack straight on, they merely deflected the attacks, thus expending little to no energy in their fights. The drawback for them, however, was that we of the Order trained with the wood elves. We too learned economy of movement. We also, however, trained with the dwarves and learned their phalanx tactics, especially how to use a shield in melee for more than blocking attacks.

With each thrust of the elf’s short sword I too deflected his attacks. When I turned his blade aside with my shield I would attack with my sword and vice versa. Each attempt, however, was thwarted by the elf’s dodging. His mobility would be his downfall.

I slowly worked myself to my right, taking the opportunity during the elf’s leaps, to glance to my right to ensure no attacks were coming my way. I continued to attack, parry, riposte, and parry again, driving him towards my left. The lunged with my sword, but this time I pulled my shield to my right, partially exposing my left flank. The elf saw this and leapt to take the advantage. Before he could even land a reverse thrust from Arturo landed between the elf’s ribs. The momentary halt in its movement was all I needed as I landed a heavy blow, knocking the dead elf to the ground.

Without waiting for further praise, or scolding, depending on the sergeant’s mood, I turned around and took the fallen tiro’s place in the formation. Otho had likewise taken mine. The female elf was not dead, however, both her and Otho has multiple wounds along their bodies. She stood back from Otho, feeling safe enough to do so since all of us had slung our crossbows.

I glanced over to my right again, this time seeing her standing there glaring at Otho. I’m sure he too glared back at her, their eyes locked on each others.

A horn blasted from deep in the forest. As fast as they came the wild elves disappeared into the trees. We maintained our guard for many minutes before Arturo gave the order for us to recover. We had only two dead elves amongst us and one of our own fallen tironis. Otho knelt by his side and checked for a pulse… nothing. Looking up at Arturo he shook his head. The sergeant nodded, then turned to me.

“That was a risky move, Tiro Telum” said Arturo, turning to face me. “Did you just assume I would know the elf was there?”

Standing straight, still with sword and shield in hand, I replied, “Yes sir.”

The sergeant nodded. “Spatial awareness, tironis, spatial awareness: We had it; these two dead elves did not. Remember that.” We all nodded in understanding. The sergeant pointed at the two other tironis and said, “You two will carry Tiro Castian’s body back with. Tiro Telum, you will take point. Tiro Otho, bring up the rear.”

With that Tiro Castian’s body was lifted reverently and carried back to the town wall and to the Arx beyond. We saw no further action that day. Tiro Castian’s body was brought before the medicii. His armor and weapons were carefully removed for cleansing and storage, waiting for the next tiro to don them. His body was then, in a solemn ceremony, placed in the Tomb of Heroes beneath the Arx. His name was also inscribed upon the Wall of Honor.

That was over five years ago. Five years and hundreds of miles travel. As I look out over the city of Crestwind find that I miss the Arx and the town of Phelixum. Someday I will see the Ordo again, when my mission is complete.

To be continued…