Sturgeon and Angus

Top military officials were pretty confused. There were several reports of an individual wearing strange clothing jumping from the ground all the way through the crack in the sky. Many immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was a demon, but nobody could be sure. One theory that floated around was that whatever it was, it was a spy. Although the infantry had reinforced the gates to the town of Warwick, it quickly became apparent that the enemy may be able to easily clear the walls. Henry of Leicester brought Sturgeon and other top brass to the king and his advisors to explain the situation.

“Your highness, I wish to have a frank discussion regarding the crack in the sky.”

The king was just a teenager at this point. After surviving a typically deadly disease, Edward didn’t care for much apart from chess, but he sensed a sincere urgency in the Regent’s voice.

“Yes, of course.”

“A figure has emerged from the crack in the sky. After surviving the fall, we believe it scouted out our land. We have multiple reports that it returned back to the portal through jumping.”

“Jumping?”

“Yes.”

“They jumped hundreds of cubits in the air and returned through the crack?”

“That’s correct, your highness.”

There was a great pause. Gasps could be heard from the king’s advisors.

“After reinforcing the gates, we have been made aware of how the enemies could completely circumvent our walls. If possible, I would like to bring in some of our officers to discuss the best course of action.”

“Proceed.”

The king’s advisors attempted to stop this, but were immediately rebuked by Edward. The idea that the king would be taking advice from such common people was disconcerting to the advisors, but they understood and had to swallow their pride. Each of the officers entered, one by one. In front was Sturgeon, who was very successful in his campaign in Ireland. Despite seeming uneducated, Sturgeon was actually quite well-read. He was aware of all of the best and most famous military strategies and tacticians. Although he wasn’t on the top of the hierarchy, he understood that people were going to rely on him for answers.

“You in front, state your name and role.”

“Sturgeon Easton, infantry officer, your highness.”

“I believe I have heard of you before. Ireland, was it?”

“Yes, your highness.”

“Ah, yes. You have been quite the promising officer. Do you have any ideas to stop the incoming forces?”

“Yes, your highness. However, I feel it is important to note that I am less experienced on the defensive side of the battlefield.”

“Proceed.”

“Given that our walls are not an obstacle to our enemies, I propose that we open the gates to-”

“Open the gates?! Should we really listen to this man, your highness?”

“Sit down, the man has not finished. Why should we open the gates?”

“Opening the gates would allow our infantry and cavalry to ride through the town, allowing for faster interception of our enemies. If they were closed, they would only be an obstacle to us. Given their great mobility, we can counter their push from any angle by using the town as a shortcut. Archers could line the top of the walls and start a fire if they see the enemy. The smoke could alert our infantry and cavalry from far away, allowing them to adjust their position accordingly.”

“I see; it is a bold plan. How do you propose we keep our citizens safe?”

“Most of the infantry should be inside the walls. If civilians are inside, the archers on the walls could also shoot arrows in. As long as infantry keep them occupied in physical combat, they should be still long enough to reliably land arrows and reduce the risk of friendly fire.”

“Aha. But what about a threat from outside the walls?”

“I propose that cavalry take some of the archers with them. If we train archers to mount and dismount in a timely manner, they can take out individual troops. In the case that they try to use something like a catapult, I have heard of a new weapon used in the east that could help us.”

“This new weapon, can you describe it?”

“Yes. It is large and made of metal. It would sit on the castle walls and be able to propel large arrows or metal balls at high speeds using gunpowder. I believe the French have taken to using it against us already. They call it a “canon”.”

“That’s ridiculous, how could anyone possibly aim something so heavy?!”

Edward again glared at his advisor.

“I hate to admit it, but he has a point. How would we aim this “canon”?”

“I believe if we built a sort of rail in a semicircle, we could turn each one at least 120 degrees despite their weight.”

“Degrees? I didn’t know you learned quadrivium!”

Sturgeon looked toward the Regent to respond.

“It’s true that I can’t do arithmetic well. However, I do know some basic geometry.”

“He’s not even fully educated!? How are we taking him seriously right now?”

“Silence. This isn’t an education issue, this is a matter of battle experience. You couldn’t command your way out of a burlap sack! Once again, sit down.”

The advisor promptly sat down and shut up.

“I’m thoroughly intrigued. While your plan is unorthodox and has many moving parts, I believe our attackers are unlike anything we have ever seen before. I particularly like the idea of the “canon”; I believe it would be of great use should the enemy attempt to besiege us. Radical ideas like this should not be discounted in such a situation. Sturgeon, is your idea representative of the rest of the officers?”

“Yes, your highness. We have already taken a vote for our general battle plan.”

“Then it is decided. We will send you as many troops as you need. If Warwick falls, the rest of England is likely to follow.”

And so it was decided. Although Sturgeon was only an infantry officer, his thorough study of military strategy had him temporarily acting as a general. His up-to-date knowledge helped him punch above his weight class when it came to commanding an army. Overall, prioritizing mobility, communication, and ranged attacks was his plan. Sturgeon was confident, but he had trouble sleeping. He knew if it didn’t work, everything was on the line.

---

Sturgeon had been gone for several weeks, and Angus was getting antsy. He had begun wearing a face covering so he wouldn’t be recognized working outside by his classmates. While lifting crates of tea and spices he started building up some muscle. Now that he was old enough to start learning the quadrivium and getting interested in the opposite sex, one would expect this to be good for him.

However, times were much different than they are now. Being overweight and out of shape showed that you were well fed and that you were not a physical laborer. Signs of wealth like this were considered attractive. Angus’s other physical status markers began to fade as he worked. His hands became rough and calloused and his skin began to darken in places. He started to become irritable. It became increasingly difficult to fit in at the monastic academy, which was made tougher by his former core group of friends completely neglecting him.

“Thank goodness you’re home, dad. All this work was really starting to get to me!”

“I bet it is. You’re starting to look like I did when I was younger.”

Angus’s smile dropped to a gasp. His jaw hung open. It was official: he looked poor. Sturgeon may have been a tough man with underdeveloped emotional intelligence, but it was pretty clear to him that something was wrong.

“What’s the matter?”

“I look poor.”

Sturgeon seemed confused.

“You what?”

“We have land, but we’re poor. People at school keep making fun of me because I have to do physical labor.”

Sturgeon bent down, but didn’t need to kneel anymore.

“Listen, son. There’s nothing wrong with being poor or strong and rugged. Those people are kids with no life experience. You don’t have to listen to them.”

“But dad, they’re calling me unevolved.”

Sturgeon sighed and covered his face. He knew that he had to spell it out for Angus.

“Look, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but war is coming here soon. Not from the French, but from the crack in the sky. I want you to be as strong as you can be. I’ll take over your job here. To build up your body, I want you to work in construction.”

“From the crack?”

“That’s right. And they’re going to make every young man like you join the infantry.”

“Everyone? I need to tell Bertrand and James so they can be ready.”

“Don’t. People like Bertrand and James are weak. They will send their servants in to die for them. That is the coward’s way. You’re already strong, Angus. I want you to be strong so you can be an example for people like them how honorable it is to defend your community. I know you don’t want to, but I need you- we all need you to work construction.”

“Why do I need to do that? I’m just one guy.”

“This will be the hardest battle England has ever fought. We need every single guy like you to be as ready as possible.”

As the sun sunk over the west wall of Warwick, Angus realized his dad was right. He felt like he could finally let go of people like Peter who were holding him back, trying to force him to conform to society’s expectations. After all, what were those founded on? Why was it ever good to be weak? Thoughts like these raced through Angus’s mind as he drifted to sleep that night.

The following several months, with his newfound appreciation for the working class, Angus worked in construction. It was said to be one of the lowest class jobs, but he didn’t mind. He could feel himself getting stronger, and he liked his coworkers. After a point, even taking orders from someone of a lower class didn’t phase him at all. When James saw Angus working construction, he hardly believed it. Although Angus considered telling him it was a punishment, he told him part of the truth: that he needed to get stronger.