On the fifth eve after the battle of Valmark, the king entered the Order camp. Travelling with only his kingthanes had allowed him to catch up to his army, still in pursuit of the outlanders; reinforcements and the supply train from Middanhal were some days behind. Every soldier turned his head, seeing the men with a golden dragon on their surcoats riding past, until the company reached the centre of camp, where Athelstan had his tent.
The knight captain looked up with astonishment upon seeing Brand. "My king," he exclaimed, bowing his head. "Your presence is unexpected."
"Plans have changed," Brand simply said. "How far away are the outlanders camped?"
"About ten miles south of here, along the Kingsroad. Not so close they can surprise us," Athelstan explained, "not so distant they can slip away unnoticed."
"How far are they from Lake Myr?" he asked next. "A week, ten days?"
"They march swiftly," the knight conceded. "They would reach the nearest shore of the lake in a week, if I were to guess."
"Give them more distance," the king commanded. "Let them consider themselves safe from immediate assaults. Perhaps that will make them slow their pace and buy us a day or two."
"Of course," Athelstan acquiesced, inclining his head. "May I ask why?"
"I will take the knights and one fourth of your infantry with me," Brand explained. "We will march southeast through the hills and reach Lake Myr before them."
"An ambush. Your route is shorter, but leaving the Kingsroad..."
"Which is why we need more time. With a forced march, we should arrive first."
"We will need to exchange missives constantly," Athelstan considered. "If we are to make the assault at the same time, in the right location. This will require the utmost skill to execute."
"Especially on your part, as you must let the outlanders gain distance only to catch up to them in time for the ambush," Brand assented. "Are you up to the task?"
"Of course, my king. You have my word."
"Good. I will march tomorrow at first light."
"May I ask what has caused this change in strategy? We take a great risk to engage the outlanders, who are already fleeing our lands."
Brand moved one hand through his hair. "I have decided to invade the Reach. Every soldier that escapes Adalmearc is another enemy we must face beyond the wall, and as it stands, they are likely to outnumber us. Lake Myr is our only chance to even the scales."
"I see." If the news surprised Athelstan, he did not let it show. "I will prepare your men for the march tomorrow. They have long days ahead."
~~~~
Not two months had expired since the outlander army had marched past Lake Myr, entering central Adalrik. Now they took the same road back. At their first passing, a small Order army had denied them entry and been slaughtered for it; the signs of battle could still be seen. Bodies lay amidst broken spears, shattered shields, and arrowheads. The carrion birds had gorged themselves, leaving half-eaten corpses to rot in the summer sun. The stench of death lay heavy in the air as the outlanders reached the old battlefield, and few found reason to speak; only the cry of ravens and crows broke the silence.
Despite the ill surroundings, the army could not overlook the precious resource of freshwater abundant in the area. Their marching pace had slowed ever since reached the edge of the lake, taking the opportunity to drink often and letting their horses and beasts of burden do the same. Smoke from many campfires on the western horizon gave them comfort knowing the pursuing Order army remained many miles away.
Thus, the vanguard halted in the same location where the Order troops had made their last stand. Amidst the decaying dead, the outlanders filled their waterskins to the brim; they could not expect to find more water for the next several days until they reached the river Sureste further east.
As the spearhead of the army prepared to continue the march, their lieutenant hesitated to give the order. He looked to the northern hills, from where his scouts had yet to return; only birds could be seen, rising into the air. To the west, he saw the dust kicked up by the main columns marching towards them. To the east, he noticed how the road narrowed between hills and lake. Dread crept across his face.
He began shouting orders. His men looked at him in confusion, and it took a moment before any complied. They formed ranks, and a runner broke off westwards to warn the remaining army.
The first sign was sunlight reflected from the hills. Helmets made of steel and spears. Rows of shields appeared, black with a white star upon them. To the east, one thousand knights marched onto the road, taking position to block any escape.
Some among the outlanders took their bows and began shooting. But against the armour and shields of the Order soldiers, their arrows availed nothing, nor did it provoke any response. The Mearcians did not move, but held their strong position, staring down with merciless gazes upon their trapped enemy.
Fear spread across the red-clad soldiers. The vanguard consisted of several thousand men, perhaps strong enough to punch through the ranks guarding the eastern road, but if they began moving, their ranks would be disrupted, making them easy prey against the troops in the hills. Caught, they could do nothing but wait for the main army.
~~~~
From the west, the bulk of the outlander forces approached. Yet sounds of battle came with them. The campfires in the distance had been a ruse. Athelstan's army had marched even before daybreak, reaching the gap where the road cut through the hills to follow the lakeshore. Now, they struck against the rearguard, taking control of the position. While word of this came to Sikandar, the messenger from the vanguard also reached the commander. His army was trapped.
Keeping a cool head, the captain ordered the army to march forward. The rearguard was abandoned to buy time. Riding swiftly ahead, Sikandar reached his vanguard to take measure of the situation. An assault against the dismounted knights, who held the eastern road, meant a fight on even grounds. It seemed the best option rather than fighting uphill against the Order infantry to the north.
On the other hand, the uneven terrain kept Sikandar from assessing the number of troops holding the hills. Their lines could be as deep as the knights defending the road; they might also be only a few ranks, using the landscape to hide this fact.
As the remainder of his soldiers reached his position, Sikandar weighed his options and finally made his decision. Seeing the Order soldiers motionless, the captain commanded his infantry to begin a barrage. Thousands of arrows flew through the air to darken the sky before striking the hills. As before, they caused few casualties, but they forced the Mearcians to raise their shields and cover themselves.
Seeing this, the outlander cavalry spurred their horses into action. Swiftly, they crossed the flat terrain to ride up the hill, crashing into the infantry just as the hail of arrows ended.
The Order soldiers converged to close the gap and drive the Zhayedan back, but now the outlander infantry set their bows aside and rushed forward. In response, fifty warriors with a golden dragon on their surcoat joined the Mearcian lines.
With the struggle in a deadlock, Sikandar ordered another assault upon the hills, further west. As before, arrows pinned the Order troops in place while the outlanders moved against their position, but lacking cavalry, the attack came slowly. Another skirmish began.
All the while, Athelstan's forces had been whittling down their enemy to the west, destroying the rearguard. Seeing no movement against them, the dismounted knights to the east decided to charge. From three sides, the Mearcians struck into the outlanders, taking their revenge for past defeats and countless fallen. To the south, the lake lay deceptively quiet, deeper than the calm surface suggested. The first soldier threw down his weapons and ran into the water. Another followed.
Arrows struck them both in the back as they attempted to flee. Sikandar would allow no flight except through the Mearcian lines, regardless of cost; therein lay the only hope for the outlander army to remain intact, albeit with losses. Turning his eyes north, the newly anointed Godking watched his soldiers throw themselves against the fortified hills.
~~~~
It took another hour before the tenacity of the outlanders saw reward. The Order lacked the numbers to defend the entire stretch of the hills, and most of their soldiers had been needed to hold the cavalry back. The second assault made solely by the infantry broke through, and the beleaguered outlanders rushed through the gap to escape the trap. Once the enemy had taken the position, the Mearcian king called for his own men to abandon the hills.
This did not avail the outlanders caught in the fighting on the road. Trapped between Athelstan in the west and the knights in the east, thousands died or surrendered. As the former arrived with horses, the knights could mount up and harass the retreating outlanders, driving them away; meanwhile the infantry took control of the lakeshore, setting up camp.
On the fifth eve after the battle of Valmark, the king entered the Order camp. Travelling with only his kingthanes had allowed him to catch up to his army, still in pursuit of the outlanders; reinforcements and the supply train from Middanhal were some days behind. Every soldier turned his head, seeing the men with a golden dragon on their surcoats riding past, until the company reached the centre of camp, where Athelstan had his tent.
The knight captain looked up with astonishment upon seeing Brand. "My king," he exclaimed, bowing his head. "Your presence is unexpected."
"Plans have changed," Brand simply said. "How far away are the outlanders camped?"
"About ten miles south of here, along the Kingsroad. Not so close they can surprise us," Athelstan explained, "not so distant they can slip away unnoticed."
"How far are they from Lake Myr?" he asked next. "A week, ten days?"
"They march swiftly," the knight conceded. "They would reach the nearest shore of the lake in a week, if I were to guess."
"Give them more distance," the king commanded. "Let them consider themselves safe from immediate assaults. Perhaps that will make them slow their pace and buy us a day or two."
"Of course," Athelstan acquiesced, inclining his head. "May I ask why?"
"I will take the knights and one fourth of your infantry with me," Brand explained. "We will march southeast through the hills and reach Lake Myr before them."
"An ambush. Your route is shorter, but leaving the Kingsroad..."
"Which is why we need more time. With a forced march, we should arrive first."
"We will need to exchange missives constantly," Athelstan considered. "If we are to make the assault at the same time, in the right location. This will require the utmost skill to execute."
"Especially on your part, as you must let the outlanders gain distance only to catch up to them in time for the ambush," Brand assented. "Are you up to the task?"
"Of course, my king. You have my word."
"Good. I will march tomorrow at first light."
"May I ask what has caused this change in strategy? We take a great risk to engage the outlanders, who are already fleeing our lands."
Brand moved one hand through his hair. "I have decided to invade the Reach. Every soldier that escapes Adalmearc is another enemy we must face beyond the wall, and as it stands, they are likely to outnumber us. Lake Myr is our only chance to even the scales."
"I see." If the news surprised Athelstan, he did not let it show. "I will prepare your men for the march tomorrow. They have long days ahead."
~~~~
Not two months had expired since the outlander army had marched past Lake Myr, entering central Adalrik. Now they took the same road back. At their first passing, a small Order army had denied them entry and been slaughtered for it; the signs of battle could still be seen. Bodies lay amidst broken spears, shattered shields, and arrowheads. The carrion birds had gorged themselves, leaving half-eaten corpses to rot in the summer sun. The stench of death lay heavy in the air as the outlanders reached the old battlefield, and few found reason to speak; only the cry of ravens and crows broke the silence.
Despite the ill surroundings, the army could not overlook the precious resource of freshwater abundant in the area. Their marching pace had slowed ever since reached the edge of the lake, taking the opportunity to drink often and letting their horses and beasts of burden do the same. Smoke from many campfires on the western horizon gave them comfort knowing the pursuing Order army remained many miles away.
Thus, the vanguard halted in the same location where the Order troops had made their last stand. Amidst the decaying dead, the outlanders filled their waterskins to the brim; they could not expect to find more water for the next several days until they reached the river Sureste further east.
As the spearhead of the army prepared to continue the march, their lieutenant hesitated to give the order. He looked to the northern hills, from where his scouts had yet to return; only birds could be seen, rising into the air. To the west, he saw the dust kicked up by the main columns marching towards them. To the east, he noticed how the road narrowed between hills and lake. Dread crept across his face.
He began shouting orders. His men looked at him in confusion, and it took a moment before any complied. They formed ranks, and a runner broke off westwards to warn the remaining army.
The first sign was sunlight reflected from the hills. Helmets made of steel and spears. Rows of shields appeared, black with a white star upon them. To the east, one thousand knights marched onto the road, taking position to block any escape.
Some among the outlanders took their bows and began shooting. But against the armour and shields of the Order soldiers, their arrows availed nothing, nor did it provoke any response. The Mearcians did not move, but held their strong position, staring down with merciless gazes upon their trapped enemy.
Fear spread across the red-clad soldiers. The vanguard consisted of several thousand men, perhaps strong enough to punch through the ranks guarding the eastern road, but if they began moving, their ranks would be disrupted, making them easy prey against the troops in the hills. Caught, they could do nothing but wait for the main army.
~~~~
From the west, the bulk of the outlander forces approached. Yet sounds of battle came with them. The campfires in the distance had been a ruse. Athelstan's army had marched even before daybreak, reaching the gap where the road cut through the hills to follow the lakeshore. Now, they struck against the rearguard, taking control of the position. While word of this came to Sikandar, the messenger from the vanguard also reached the commander. His army was trapped.
Keeping a cool head, the captain ordered the army to march forward. The rearguard was abandoned to buy time. Riding swiftly ahead, Sikandar reached his vanguard to take measure of the situation. An assault against the dismounted knights, who held the eastern road, meant a fight on even grounds. It seemed the best option rather than fighting uphill against the Order infantry to the north.
On the other hand, the uneven terrain kept Sikandar from assessing the number of troops holding the hills. Their lines could be as deep as the knights defending the road; they might also be only a few ranks, using the landscape to hide this fact.
As the remainder of his soldiers reached his position, Sikandar weighed his options and finally made his decision. Seeing the Order soldiers motionless, the captain commanded his infantry to begin a barrage. Thousands of arrows flew through the air to darken the sky before striking the hills. As before, they caused few casualties, but they forced the Mearcians to raise their shields and cover themselves.
Seeing this, the outlander cavalry spurred their horses into action. Swiftly, they crossed the flat terrain to ride up the hill, crashing into the infantry just as the hail of arrows ended.
The Order soldiers converged to close the gap and drive the Zhayedan back, but now the outlander infantry set their bows aside and rushed forward. In response, fifty warriors with a golden dragon on their surcoat joined the Mearcian lines.
With the struggle in a deadlock, Sikandar ordered another assault upon the hills, further west. As before, arrows pinned the Order troops in place while the outlanders moved against their position, but lacking cavalry, the attack came slowly. Another skirmish began.
All the while, Athelstan's forces had been whittling down their enemy to the west, destroying the rearguard. Seeing no movement against them, the dismounted knights to the east decided to charge. From three sides, the Mearcians struck into the outlanders, taking their revenge for past defeats and countless fallen. To the south, the lake lay deceptively quiet, deeper than the calm surface suggested. The first soldier threw down his weapons and ran into the water. Another followed.
Arrows struck them both in the back as they attempted to flee. Sikandar would allow no flight except through the Mearcian lines, regardless of cost; therein lay the only hope for the outlander army to remain intact, albeit with losses. Turning his eyes north, the newly anointed Godking watched his soldiers throw themselves against the fortified hills.
~~~~
It took another hour before the tenacity of the outlanders saw reward. The Order lacked the numbers to defend the entire stretch of the hills, and most of their soldiers had been needed to hold the cavalry back. The second assault made solely by the infantry broke through, and the beleaguered outlanders rushed through the gap to escape the trap. Once the enemy had taken the position, the Mearcian king called for his own men to abandon the hills.
This did not avail the outlanders caught in the fighting on the road. Trapped between Athelstan in the west and the knights in the east, thousands died or surrendered. As the former arrived with horses, the knights could mount up and harass the retreating outlanders, driving them away; meanwhile the infantry took control of the lakeshore, setting up camp.
