Genseric sat at the campfire, his sword, which was held inside its sheath, held against his chest. He would occasionally hold his hand towards the fire, warming himself, and look up towards his other companions who surrounded the campfire. It was quiet and somber.

Haesteinn came out from his tent, seemingly having finally stiched that wounds of his.

“Brothers, I have news. Scouts report that they've found the Cherwinian army. Approximately 150 soldiers in camp. Not more than two hours from here, much closer to the Cherwinian border than expected,” Haesteinn began. “Besides that.. I've been selected as one of the sergeants to lead the vanguard. That means you've been selected for the vanguard. We'll be the first one into the fray. Congratulations.”

Genseric had looked up at him, and he listened. Haesteinn soon returned back to his tent, and Genseric was absorbed in his thoughts. So they would be the first to engage in combat, and against a force so much larger than themselves. Genseric hoped dearly they would be victorious, and he briefly eyed around his companions. He wondered which one of those around him would no longer be with them tomorrow.

He looked at his companions, who did not break the silence. All Genseric could hear was the cackling of fire. For some reason it brought Genseric comfort, although it could not ease his mind. Eventually, Genseric went to his tent. Even if his mind could not rest, he needed to get some rest.

[hr]

Genseric awoke in his tent, not being able to recall any dreams. It seemed to him that he had none. He was not exactly well-rested, but now it was time to get up. He could hear Haesteinn’s voicing rousing up others, and Genseric saw that as the queue to get up. He rubbed his eyes as he got up, as if to toss the morning out of his eyes. Piece by piece, he assembled his armor together, until he had a full set of armor. He had never done it without an aide before, although it helped Genseric feel lower than he was, as if he truly was but only a knight.

Genseric thanked Ellinor for the meal. She would be left behind in the coming battle for her own safety. Now Genseric was marching alongside Haesteinn, both of them mounted among their respective steeds. The less fortunate did not ride along a horse, and that consisted of most of the other fighters. Haesteinn asked both he and Jahan why he joined the Black Shields.

“I’ve come to prove myself, to myself distinguished,” Genseric said. “It may seem odd, yet among my family that is how it goes, and how it always has been among the nobles.”

Yet even Genseric felt unconvinced by this answer. Could it perhaps be that he did not truly know why he had joined the Black Shields. Certainly he had intended to prove himself in battle in the manner of his fathers, testing him in ways in which he would later be tested in his service to the King when he was Count of Rossex. Still, Genseric could not organize his thoughts.

[hr]

Soon, there was no room for frivolous thoughts of why he was here in Genseric’s mind. He was here, and he would remain here. That would have to be enough, and for Genseric it was enough. Genseric stood mostly among militiamen, most of whom seemed like they had never once served in battle. Genseric had served in combat, however. They reminded Genseric of men who he had once seen. The smell of smoldering ruins and burning corpses once again came back to Genseric. He suspected that many of these men here had seen their last sunrise, and families had lost their sons and daughters.


Haesteinn’s shout came, signaling the time for attack. Genseric would not have given the enemy such a signal, but it mattered not now, as it had already been done. 

Stone-faced as always he told the men around him quietly, “Don’t think of those piercing, negative thoughts that run through your mind. You shall be victorious here, and victory is already in your grasp.”

Then Genseric ran forward, his steed taking him forward, and the militiamen following close behind him. He took a path separate from the one Jahan took, his steed rushing towards them. His steed trampled over one Cherwinian soldier, and Genseric rose his sword and then brought it down upon another one, cutting through his neck in a blow that would prove fatal in but a few moments. Yet as all seemed to be going well, an arrow struck Genseric’s steed. His horse fell to the ground, and flung Genseric off.

Genseric was disoriented, yet he knew he had to recover quickly. He shook his head, recovering some of his focus, and equipped the iron shield he had held on his back. He saw a blow come from his right from a Cherwinian soldier, and block it with his shield. He parried with his own strike, stabbing him through the chest. Then Genseric dislodged his sword from his opponent chest, and then turned to face his next opponent to his left. Although it was far from the first that Genseric had killed, this was the first time Genseric had fought in this manner. Fighting as the vanguard was truly a new experience.

Genseric turned his next opponent. He stabbed her in the neck before she had a true chance to react. Genseric briefly wondered what her father, her mother, her possible lover could possibly think of him, but he had not long to ponder on it. A man with a halberd came up to Genseric, smashing his heavy weapon down upon him. Genseric was able to block with his iron shield, yet the power of the attack was quite cumbersome and taxing on his left arm. Genseric’s shield took several more hits as the Cherwinian hammered away at Genseric. Then Genseric ran forward, blocking the halberd before it had a chance to gain proper momentum, and his enemy was taken off their balance. Then Genseric’s sword went through his neck and up through his head. 

Genseric withdrew his sword from his enemy’s head, and the Cherwinian fell to the ground, his body now but a corpse. Genseric glanced upwards quick enough to see the next enemy coming towards him, a member of the cavalry armed with a lance. Genseric felt intense pain, the feeling of what it felt like to have a lance pierce his plate armor. He fell to the ground, and he felt his consciousness fading.

Yet he was alive.