[center][color=crimson][h1]T H E  C R I M S O N  C O M P A N Y[/h1][/color][/center] 
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	He struck.
	She'd gotten her guard up - he recalled she had been spending long hours at the pell under the watchful eye of Ser Gavin. She flicked her blade to the right, crossing his blade. He bounced back and cut again at her leg, but she had already slipped her foot away. He allowed himself a small smile - she [i]had[/i] been paying attention. He feinted low, then cut at her head twice, left then right. She made the cover for the first but the second was late and she stumbled backwards on her heels. He did it again, faster this time, but she was ready and made both covers.
	[i]Time to end it[/i], He thought, and thrust.
	"Fuck," Nell said, his sword point at her throat. 
	Damion laughed, withdrawing his blade and sheathing it in a quick flourish. "You were excellent, besides that one cover and your draw." He paused. "Draw a hundred times, no looking at the scabbard. Then you may go get some breakfast." He smiled at her grimace. "You won't be able to test your swordsmanship if you're dead, Nell. And I'd be hard pressed to find another squire of your caliber."
	Nell bowed to him, unsuccessfully hiding the wide, silly grin on her face at his sudden praise.
	"I'll leave you to it," Damion said, and walked back towards the main camp.
	The camp sprawled across half a mile of land, hundreds of lines of tents carefully organized from battle groups to lances. Each company soldier was responsible for the care of his equipment, unless they had a squire to worry about it for them. Meals were set at specific times during each day. Sentries were established according to a carefully-booked schedule, mainly following the straightforward hierarchy in the company. Every soldier was assigned a rigorous training program to ensure they were in top condition; based on their progress they were promoted, which meant higher pay and more opportunity for advancement. All soldiers had the potential to become belted Knights in the company. 
	Lord Damion ran a tight ship, and he was damned proud of it.
	He spotted Ser Haljon by the mess, and called out to him. "Jon! Gather the others for a briefing. Breakfast can wait."
	The big Northman grumbled but obliged, stuffing a link of sausages into his mouth before heading off to find the other Knights that made up Lord Damion's inner circle.
	He strode into his tent - an enormous working of expensive cloth - and rolled out a map of the continent on his war table. The table was large and made of exotic mahogany; heavy as hell, but it left an important impression. Damion clasped his hands behind his back and waited.
	He didn't have to wait long. Ser Gavin was the first to arrive, trim and clean-cut as ever. Out of all those in his inner circle, Gavin best matched Damion's personality. [i]As well he should,[/i] Damion thought to himself. [i]He squired for me.[/i]
	Next to arrive was Ser William, along with Ser Alexios. William's youth was far behind him; grey speckled his beard and hair, and wrinkles had begun to form around his mouth and eyes. That said, he was the best damned lance in the company, and his relatively advanced age did nothing to change the quickness of his tongue or mind. In fact, he gave Damion perhaps the most thoughtful counsel out of all those in his inner circle.
	Alexios was a Knight trained in the old Atlantean fashion. He had tan skin and a carefully trimmed forked beard, along with a slight accent he never could get rid of. He was the best dagger fighter in the company, along with a close second to William with a lance. Alexios was well-versed in all things of a courtly nature, and possessed a classical education. Thus he was Damion's best advisor on all things political.
	Ser Catherine arrived next. The only female knight in the company, she used to be a courtesan in Thule before joining up with the company. She didn't like to talk about her past although she did not shun it, though any man who thought her an easy mark was liable to end up in the company physician's care. Regardless, she was a well-respected figure in the company and one of Damion's best commanders. Most of the other Knights called her "Cat" for short.
	Lastly, Ser Haljon arrived with the two men in charge of the company's archery corps, John Redford and his right-hand Richard Smith. Haljon, or "Bad Jon" as he was known to most of the company, was an intimidating presence anywhere he went. He stood head and shoulders over most men and weighed nearly thirty stones. His great warsword was the size of a man, and his strength was comparable to a bear. Haljon had been one of the very first members of the company, and had made it clear to Damion that the only reason he had joined was to fight. A good thing too, because he was easily the best swordsman in the company.
	John Redford and Richard Smith were the two best archers in Damion's employ. Out of the two of them Richard was probably the better shot, though he didn't have John's wisdom or talent for discipline. John had been a vagrant after a skirmish robbed him of his employer, a minor Borean lord. The rumor was that Richard used to be a bandit before joining up with the company, though he seemed affable enough, if somewhat vulgar and possessing of a particularly strong lust for gold. 
	Damion clapped his hands together, smiling broadly as his inner circle gathered around the war table. "Sorry to interrupt your breakfast friends, but we have some planning to do. It seems we have finally found a contract..."
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