—Shhhhh, —said Fernández, as he crawled forward with the rest of the crew to the closest position to the wooden palisade.
Miguel, crawling to the lieutenant's side, looked toward the village, and the very first thing he saw gave him a bad feeling:
—There are guards at the gate. Not good.
—Yes, I had some activity reports but no guards. It seems they are only on duty at night, —replied Raúl, the leader of the scouts.
—Perfect... Does anyone recognize any symbol identifying them? —asked Miguel, also trying to answer his own question.
—Nothing, —everyone else replied.
—Hmmmm, okay. Does anyone have an idea on how to take the village? —asked Miguel, looking at the others.
—A frontal assault? —suggested Iván, in charge of the guards in Fernández's absence—. We have the numbers and the quality, and those people don't look particularly well-armored enough to put up serious resistance.
—It is the fastest way, but also the most costly, —Fernández said. —I don't think it's necessary to risk even one of the guards. Furthermore, I believe it is most likely that they are remnants of the Marquess. Even though the last reports mentioned the final retreat of the Marquess's main troops to their own territory, we cannot rule out the presence of deserters or troops deliberately left behind.
—What if we attack from the front and from behind? —Miguel suggested—. We can attack from the front, and when the enemy is concentrated there, we attack with the rest of the force from the rear. We knock down the palisade with horses and ropes, and enter with the shock forces in the rear and the projectile forces in the front.
—We could even place the advancing troops in the front with special wagons, three will be enough, and pack them densely with infantry, and a single group of four horses to avoid casualties among the beasts of burden, —suggested Raúl.
—They will be slow and vulnerable, —Iván said.
—That is the idea, Iván. —Raúl continued—. The point is for the defenders to let their guard down, thinking they are merchants or people seeking asylum, so we can then attack them from the rear.
—Alright, it is decided, —Miguel said—. We attack from both sides, with a feint from the front. —He then thought to himself: A bit like the Trojan Horse, but without going all the way inside.
...
Back at the camp, everything was quiet. The people were cooking simple porridge for dinner after a long day of walking. Suddenly, the young master's mounted guard started to stir, loading their gear onto the pack saddles, taking the ropes for the supplies, and preparing the armor and weapons.
Not only that, even three of the special wagons had been pulled out of the circular formation, tethered to one another with ropes pulled by four horses at the front. They moved very slowly, as most of the men assigned to the special wagons had been called to board the three that were leaving the formation.
—Hey, look what's happening, —said one of the commoners near the entrance, where all the activity was concentrated—. It looks like they're preparing for battle. Could the Marquess's remaining army be nearby? What if they attack us?!
—Well then, we prepare for battle. The Marquess's remaining army is at least four hundred strong, many of them knights in armor. So, instead of thinking about the bad things that could happen, why not think positively about our young master? He is the savior of the city. Those who stress less live longer, my friend.
And so, amid the murmurs of the commoners and the movement of the troops, the plan began to unfold.
...
At night, by the palisade of the first village on the route, four guards stood the first watch of the night, on the lookout for any movement approaching the settlement they were tasked with protecting.
—Ensign, look over there, —one of the lookouts said—. Three wagons approaching.
—Wake the remaining guards at the gate. We'll see what they want, —the ensign in charge of the gate ordered, though he thought to himself: They don't look like part of Count Alban Cortés's bastard convoy. According to the spies in the city, there are at least three hundred carts, counting wagons and regular carriages.
A few moments later, the three carts drew close enough to be fully visible in the torchlight on the wall.
—Halt, identify yourselves, —the ensign shouted from the safety of the palisade—. This village is under the authority of Count Alban Cortés of Pasttó, and due to the exceptional war situation, the right of requisition of the defensive system is invoked. No one may enter without a safe-conduct issued by the competent authorities.
—Oh, young captain! —shouted Raúl, wearing noble's clothing instead of armor, though it was a bit tight for his frame—. My name is John Rockefeller, I am a merchant from the capital of the kingdom, and I am passing through to the port of Kaivo in the Marquess of Narico's territory to sell my goods and restock with new ones to sell on my return trip to the capital. If it's not too much trouble, gentlemen, and since the war is over, if you let us spend the night within the safety of your walls, I will pay you generously.
—That is not possible, Mr. Merchant, —the ensign replied in a strict tone—. Dura lex, sed lex.
—But, Ensign, we could take that money and distribute it among the troops to boost morale after... —his subordinate attempted to negotiate before being interrupted.
—No! —the ensign barked, turning to face his subordinate—. We cannot expose our forces and their disposition while in enemy territory. We have a clear mission, and that is to buy time.
The ensign turned back toward the entrance:
—As I was saying, Mr. Merchant... it is not possible...
—Fire! —Raúl shouted.
With the three special wagons brought for the operation forming a compact line against the wall, the horses were quickly unhitched from the wagons and led at a full gallop to a safe zone by one of the wealthy merchant's security guards.
All at once, a volley of arrows, quarrels, and musket fire shook the county's night, starting the first combat of the journey. While seeking cover, Raúl blew his battle horn twice, and the next phase of the plan was immediately set in motion.
On the other side of the village, Miguel and Fernández began running with their preparations a heartbeat after hearing the horn's signal.
—Go, go, go, —Miguel said, and at his command, the various troops, the horses, and their rigging with the ropes emerged from the foliage near the wall, as soon as the guards at the rear moved to respond to the emergency at the front gate.
Reaching the wall, they hooked up the sections of the palisade they had identified as weak and quickly gave the order for the horses to pull on the ropes, tearing down a five-meter section of the wooden wall.
Miguel reached the front and dismounted his horse:
—Brothers, warriors of God, and holy protectors of the county and its people, do not waver in the face of adversity, battle, or death, for it is your duty as soldiers of the county to protect the townspeople. Forward, men, take vengeance against the enemies of the county! Make them pay for their crimes!
With a thundering roar, nearly 200 fighters charged through the breached palisade, flooding the village with battle cries and a flurry of steel.
...
While the men advanced into the clearing and surrounded the defenders' positions, the circular formation of the main camp was perfectly set up for the night. The wagons were positioned in the center, firmly tethered together with the thick hemp ropes, creating an impassable barrier. The mounted guard stood watch over the only access point, and the perimeter remained illuminated by small, strategically placed bonfires, keeping the rear of the caravan safe while the combat decided the fate of the village and its brave men.