With the area cleared, Wiz returned to his house to check the extent of the damage.
It wasn’t in the direct line of attack, but the Hobgoblins had burned many of the farmhouses on their way by, just out of spite.
Fortunately, hers was still standing, but that didn’t mean there was nothing hiding inside, or damage to the property.
Dominic returned to his forge, and found that it was in shambles, with the undercarriage destroyed, the interior demolished, and the door smashed in, with the entrance now facing the sky.
He remembered waking up in here after the battle, but the door opened outward and didn’t have a lock. There was no reason someone would have had to damage the door to let him in to rest and receive healing.
Come to think of it, this place was totalled. There was no reason to bring him here, when it was already blown to pieces before the end of the battle.
Had he been hurled through the door by an attack?
Everything about the battle was becoming a bit foggy in his mind, and trying to think about it just gave him a headache. Or at least the later part of it after he had been knocked off the roof of his forge. The first portions were entirely too vividly etched in his mind.
Most importantly, he would need a new spot to sleep. This obviously wasn’t going to work, and it would take him all day to clean it up and gather the undamaged tools.
Instead, he went to the cabinet at the rear of the carriage on the outside and grabbed the tent and bedrolls that were there for the occupants of each vehicle.
"Come set up here by the fire, little Smith. The Princess asked us to look out for you." One of the Royal Guards called as Dominic was about to begin setting pegs.
Dominic moved over to where they were sitting with the old gunslinger, who was now missing one leg at the knee, with his pant leg rolled up.
The aging gunslinger smiled at Dominic, and then lit a cigarette. "Well, at least they can’t force me to go on adventures anymore. With this, I’ll be well and properly retired from the Royal Army."
One of the Guards chuckled. "I don’t think you’ll get that lucky, friend. After today, you’re going to be called a war hero. You’ll have a long future telling stories to students and extolling the virtues of learning a trade skill after you already know how to fight."
The laughter of the Royal Guard caught the attention of the Aramos Village Guards who were nearby, treating the survivors.
The Royal Guard was a bit terrifying to the average town militiaman or city guard. Not only did they have Royal Authority to enforce laws, but they had made it to the end of the battle without a single casualty.
They started with ten, ended with ten, and the equipment that they wore was still functional.
Heavily damaged, coated in blood, but functional.
Dominic turned to the Guards. "That reminds me, did any of you damage your Rifles? I made a spare."
The Gunslinger laughed, and the guards smiled at Dominic.
"The perfect professional. Half an inch from death in the afternoon, and checking on the survivors gear before bed.
But to answer your question, no. The rifles worked flawlessly, and we all stored them before we got into close combat, so they haven’t taken any damage.
We even still have a few hundred rounds of ammunition left from the last bags that you tossed us.
Good work with that, by the way. It was just in time, and with the reload, we didn’t have to slow down our firing rate at all."
One of the survivors from the Reservists rolled over on his medical cot to face them.
"Forget about the rifles, did you all see the Blacksmith firing off spells like a gunslinger? Those bolts of magic were flying overhead every couple seconds the whole battle. Only when the Archmage set off an explosion spell under his forge did the spells stop."
The man’s voice was low and raspy, but the other soldiers nodded in agreement.
"To think that half our strongest fighters were in the trade wagons." One of the other wounded soldiers laughed.
"He’s still young, isn’t he? Maybe they’ll give him a Royal Commission into the Officer Corps." One of the other soldiers asked, and Dominic realized that the man’s neck was in a brace, so he couldn’t look around.
"Very young. Hardly an adult, but his trade skill core is halfway through Apprentice already, maybe Level 6 even." One of the others agreed.
"Just unroll here under the awning. It’s not calling for rain tonight, and it will be warm enough with all the Royal Guard inside." The man beside Dominic whispered, so they didn’t disrupt the conversations around them.
After unrolling his bedroll, Dominic realized there was something missing. None of the staff had come back out of the city, as the gate were blockaded closed, and the guards who had come to reinforce them had rappelled down the walls.
So, there was no hot food. Nothing was cooked, and they were just using the dry rations for the evening.
Silently, he passed some of the meat buns from the Palace kitchen around to the Royal Guards and the few wounded soldiers nearby.
It wasn’t much, but a cold meat bun was better than dried protein biscuits and water.
That small gesture was enough to brighten the mood of the soldiers, and everyone began to relax. Then a wine skin began to make the rounds around the campfire, and they drank their troubles away while talking about their lives back in the city.
It wasn’t long before they were all asleep, with the Aramos Village Guards standing watch for them.
It was a peaceful night, but not one that would last long. Dawn brought a runner from the Palace, along with an entire Battalion of the Royal Army.
That wasn’t a great sign, Dominic decided.
The Royal Guard were set up so that the entrance to the Princess’ sleeping quarters were through theirs, and Dominic had noticed that not all of them were asleep. Nor were the ones beside him the same as when he had gone to bed, so they had to have been rotating watches during the night.
"You louts, get up. The Princess has a visitor." Someone demanded, rousing Dominic from the last of his lingering slumber.
"She has a visitor if I say that she has a visitor." The leader of her Royal Guards insisted.
Dominic heard the rattle as the guards shifted to put their hands on their weapons, and sat up from his bedroll to distract the intruder.
"What’s so important that you’re chasing the survivors of a major battle out of bed at the crack of dawn? If it doesn’t involve fighting or fucking, it can wait until Her Highness is showered, and her guards are fed." He insisted.
The man in a brightly coloured coat with a strange frilly collar turned to stare at Dominic, and all the guards equipped the armour they had removed to sleep.
"Who are you?" The man demanded.
"Dominic, Royal Smith, attached to the Princess’ unit. Who do you think you are?"
The man’s eyes went to Dominic’s horns, then he sneered as he looked back down.
"You don’t have the authority to ask."
"But I have the authority to kill intruders. What’s the worst that will happen if I’m wrong? If you’re not an intruder and your family misses you, I might get a month in the Palace Dungeons and my pay docked. I can live with that."
A feminine voice from behind him laughed, and the Princess stepped out with two of her guards.
"It would be better if you didn’t. This is Colonel Fall, son of Baron Fall. The Crown frowns upon the accidental deaths of their strategists. Now, Colonel, follow me to the Command tent and we can talk.
Blacksmith Dominic, I will be meeting with you immediately after. Get showered and fed." Princess Alexis insisted.
"Understood, Princess. Pleasure meeting you, Colonel."