Grimdux
I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
Maps of the Realms
Character portraits
Spoiler
Chapter 183
A Hundred Days
Part IX
Battle of the Iron Mines
Part II
-Yours is the advantage Sir Knight-
[collapse]
The Iron Griffin of Pastelor, Sir Reinir Tellman
The Bloody Tiger of Regia, Sir Lucius Alden
The Errant Knight of Ballard, Sir Emerson Lennox
The Raven of Dawn, Sir Gust De Weer
The Young Tiger of Regia, Sir Ralph Alden
The Priest Knight of Midlanor, Sir Shane Erst Ravn
The Charming Knight of Armium, Sir William Davenport
“Why Reinir ye may ask?
Well, his son almost killed the Bloody Tiger and some fools have him first on the list.”
Lord Anker Est Ravn,
Lord of Midlanor,
Keeper of the Forests, Guardian of Nordland Pass,
Uher’s First Sentinel and High Regent of the Realm.
Speaking at dinner, circa 196 NC
Legatus Lucius Alden
A Hundred Days
Part VIII
Battle of the Iron Mines
Part I
-Good ground for Cavalry-
Lucius Legion
3rd month of winter 190 NC
(Overall strength ~1660?)
-820 legionnaires (+300 recruits)
140+ mixed cavalry, 100+ heavy Slingers, 300+ Scouts-
Legatus Legionis Lucius Alden
Aide de Legatus (former Squire) Marc Gripa
Camp Prefect Galio Veturius (Broad Band Tribune –unofficial until 192 NC)
Panthera Tigris Signifer Brim Solomon (Lesia)
1st Cohort
(Red armband)
1st Century
(Strength 200 Legionnaires)
(Primus Pilus) (I) Centurion Varus Trupo (Lesia)
Optio Nonus Sula (Regia)
2nd Century (Training unit)
(Strength 200~350 Recruits fully armed)
(II) Centurion Gladius Tutor (Regia)
3rd Century
(Strength 100 Legionnaires)
(V) Centurion Artus Mangas (Nord)
4rth Century
(Strength 100 Legionnaires)
(IV) Servius Capito (Regia)
2nd Cohort
(Purple armband)
1st Century (2nd CH/1st CN)
(Strength 120 Legionnaires)
(III) Centurion Decimus Sabinus (Regia)
2nd Century
(Strength 100 Legionnaires)
(VI) Centurion Josi Vala (Lesia)
3rd Century
(Strength 100 Legionnaires)
(VII) Centurion Atri Damian (Mix-breed half-Nord)
4rth Century
(Strength 100 Legionnaires)
(VIII) Centurion Spurius Dio (Regia)
Legion Scouts
(Strength ~300 warriors,
50 Northmen, mostly Gerard Pike’s warband.
Attached were around 150 of Zofia O’ Dargan’s Northmen
and 50 mix-breeds half-Nords, these were under Dirk Curd)
Centurion Kaeso (unknown origins, probably Lesia)
Gerard Pike (Nord)
Dirk Curd (Half-Nord Mix-breed)
Legion Cavalry
(Strength 100 ~140 mixed riders,
included thirty men & women of Legatus’ entourage)
Decurion Faye Numbers (Nord) –not active after Krakenfort-
Decurion Eli Sharp (Nord)
Decurion Alana Shields (Nord)
Decurion Kent (Thin-knees) Long (Nord)
Legion Slingers
(Not attached short range unit
– Semi-autonomous, usually deployed by the Legatus.
Only unit employing women and men under sixteen)
(Strength 80~100 men and women)
Centurion Mamercus Sorex
Decanus Joe Fallon
Around one thousand** civilians (mostly soldier families and a very large number of orphans), merchants and technicians (Blacksmiths, carpenters, laborers, Armorers, hunters, trappers, whores, musicians etc.) following in the supply train. After Krakenfort the supply train had almost two hundred various-sized carriages carrying mostly foodstuff, cots, leather tents, precut wood and weapons among other things.
There was a strange stillness in the morning air. The light at a minimum, the sun a colorless haze behind the thick clouds that had gathered early. The ground frozen, but not as hard as it had been on the road. Or perhaps, we’ve gotten used to it, Lucius thought and watched the men setting up camp, iron picks digging in the hard ground. The camp’s dimensions already carved on it from the engineers, every tent and structure pre-arranged. There was simplicity and order in their work. It was hard and laboring to build a small village at every stop. Once you did it a score of times though, everything appeared easy.
“We run out of grain,” Trupo reported as if trying to mock his thoughts, while bringing him back to the present. “Biscuits all around henceforth milord. The plinth variant. Good for the gums.”
“Put it on the list Centurion,” Lucius replied tiredly. “What’s the size of Vanzon’s camp?”
“A regiment at least, plus about five hundred marines, if the scouts got the banners right.”
“I bet he misses those men he sent to Rockfort,” Lucius commented simply.
A large part of Lord Vanzon’s force had been cut off and was under siege for the last month inside the Castle City of Rockfort near the Alford River. A solid five hundred kilometers to their rear.
“These lads hit us hard at that lake,” Prefect Galio noted. “Almost won them the battle.”
Lucius nodded in agreement. He had been on the receiving end of the Krakenhalls regulars flanking assault at Selm Ailo. The majority of these soldiers’ veterans of the Battle of the Bridges a year back. Perhaps a bit more.
“Why did he get the army out of the fort’s walls?” Lucius asked.
“Two reasons,” Galio replied and eyed the Second Cohort returning from their heavy drilling, led by the freshly transferred to the First Century of the Second Cohort, Centurion Decimus Sabinus. The officer was previously commanding the Third Century of the First Cohort. “That’s Lord Vanzon’s banner. That fat squid won’t run away in front of his people and the second, is they know we will just head for the bridge and straight for Krakenhall the moment they lock themselves behind them walls.”
“Those mines need to be cleared,” Lucius noted. “We can’t have an army overlooking our camp Prefect.”
“If we move on them the Issirs will probably attack us, milord,” Galio replied. “There is cavalry hidden behind those walls.”
There was that of course.
The two camps were facing each other about three kilometers apart. Lord Vanzon had the slopes leading to the massive Iron Mines on his left flank, or North and the Krakenfort’s walls at his rear.
“Can Sabinus clear that flank?” Lucius asked him, slapping his arms to wake them up, as the cold had crept up on him again. He’d spend a week with fever and unable to take solid food, but he’d managed to recover. Despite that Lucius still didn’t feel like himself.
The Northern climate was slowly wearing him down.
The constant marching for almost three months taking its toll as well on the general and his men alike.
“We need to win here, Prefect,” Lucius told Galio seeing his stubborn grimace. “Break Vanzon’s back and prevent him from retreating to Krakenhall. The winter is almost over. Another month down the line and the roads from Midlanor will open up. The Est Ravns might send a whole army up here.”
“The Second Foot is en route to Raoz, milord,” the Prefect reminded him and Lucius coughed to clear his throat before answering.
“That’s a year’s old information Prefect. Midlanor has the Golden Spears stationed there, more a militia than a priesthood and they are training a whole new Division was the word in the King’s Council.”
“Another Foot?” Galio asked him and Lucius smacked his lips.
“Who knows? The Second is two Divisions in one unto itself. No one dares question Lord Anker, when he’s the one footing the bill.”
“Ah, I don’t see them venturing that far, milord, not while fighting the Khan.”
Lucius stared in his aged face, the skin turned a dark red where the cold had burned it.
“Midlanor will never allow the Nordland Pass to close, Prefect. They need that iron. They’ll march up the Arid Peaks before this Spring, unless the Realm turns on its head.”
“Do they need Lord Vanzon sire?” The sharp Prefect asked catching his undertone and Lucius smiled, deep lines on his face contracting, making him appear older than he was.
“There’s your third reason Prefect,” he had told him. “Vanzon can’t lose control of the mines. Prep the men for battle on the morrow. Keep the supply train further away. Issue every spare javelin you got and order Mamercus to have his men well-stocked. No slow-walking, everyone trots from now on,” he sighed deeply, every bone on his body hurting, then added gravely. “The Issirs will attack the moment Sabinus starts marching towards the mines.”
This was the point of no retreat for all sides.
Losing here would be ruinous.
A lot of people are going to get killed and only one army will leave the field.
Tyeus would be well-sated.
Lord Vanzon shocked at the appearance of Lucius’ Cohorts in his path –the aged Lord of Krakenhall had arrived from his capital intend on marching the moment the weather improved towards the besieged Rockfort- he ordered Baron of Krakenfort Gert Heuvel to reinforce the guards at the Iron Mines immediately. Realizing he still held the advantage, as Lucius forces appeared worn out from their insane march over Jelin’s Edge plateau, he decided to fight them on the open terrain, while his back was secure.
Baron Heuvel sent the Lord’s Shield Marvin Kroneberg to the Iron Mines, stripping the fort from its guards and assumed command of Vanzon’s forces himself. He was eager to put the rabid tiger down as he boasted. Several of those present objected to the Lord’s decision. Sir Walter Tellman of Pastelor, commanding Midlanor’s dispatched Cavalry that had force-marched up the almost closed from snow Nordland Pass and had just arrived, argued vehemently for a fighting retreat. Give Lord Anker two months, he urged the local commanders and this problem will go away.
Unable to explain how it would or perhaps under orders not to, he was shamed into agreeing by the boisterous Northern Issirs. A skilled Knight, Sir Tellman begrudgingly went along and he performed admirably in the battle that followed, honoring his famed kin. The reasons for Lord Vanzon’s unwillingness to retreat many, but perhaps the strongest being that in the end he didn’t trust the cunning Lord of Midlanor to put his interests first.
It is rumored that when Lord Anker was informed of the decision later that same month he became so enraged he couldn’t speak for a week. Another report claiming that in his fury he hacked through one of the supporting stone pillars of his villa, with his legendary ‘Swan’s Song’ blade, bringing half a wall and a whole balcony down.
Two servants and an unlucky guard were killed, buried under the debris.
Both accounts are disputed.
Lucius stared in Marc Gripa’s stern face while the man helped him put on his armour. Gripa, a Lorian from Asturia, was almost thirty years of age. He was living in Maza Burg for almost ten years. The man had followed the Legatus forces as he’d lost his Northern wife and son in Ludr the previous year to Krakenhall’s raiders. Wrong place at the wrong time, he’d said simply when Lucius had asked him about it.
“You know your way around armour, Mister Gripa,” Lucius said, an eye on the nervous Faye. The woman, forced to sit this one out, had dark circles under her eyes. Even if she wasn’t showing her pregnancy and could get in her tight armor, Lucius wouldn’t have allowed her to fight. The latter matter a thorny issue between the young couple.
“Squired in my youth for the Holts, milord,” the man replied.
“How is Asturia?” Lucius asked him.
“Ah, all green and open fields. The Lake and the summer ever pleasant. Lush forests and game aplenty,” he sighed remembering his home city. “Better winters, milord,” he finally said, a touch of sadness in his voice.
“Valeria at the near,” Lucius teased mentioning the notorious Canlita Sea island, Faye frowning at the name.
“There’s that too, for men wit means milord,” Gripa replied. “Is it too tight?”
“It’s fine Gripa, thank you,” Lucius said. His new squire bowed his head and exited his tent.
“Alana will take care nothing happens to me and Mister Gripa is an experienced squire,” Lucius explained to the scowling Faye.
“Alana hasn’t faced a knight on a horse in her life,” Faye hissed, her stomach bothering her again. “Your cavalry isn’t made out of knights Alden.”
“I know yer angry when I get my family name thrown at me,” Lucius teased her, wearing his reinforced gauntlets.
“That’s worry and I call ye Lucius aplenty, when we’re coupling,” Faye replied, then frowned. “What’s wit the yer?”
“I spend too much time with your people,” he told her and watched her playing nervously with his family pendant. Faye wore it prominently over her heavy coat. “That’s gold dear. You might want to keep it hidden when visiting the supply train.”
“I don’t want to,” Faye retorted. “People fall all over themselves to get me stuff.”
“Right,” Lucius replied with a smile. “They might want to steal it also.”
“Huh? Over my dead body!” Faye snapped all furious.
“This is what we want to avoid, Faye,” Lucius explained.
“You’re trying to distract me, Alden,” she hissed, narrowing her half-hidden behind a red curtain eyes.
“Is it working?” He teased her.
Faye pushed her thick mane off her face with a troubled sigh.
“For a bit it did,” she admitted.
Lucius watched Centurion Sabinus marching towards the Iron Mines, a deep frown on his face. Over the empty frozen field Lord Vanzon’s forces were also gathering exiting their camp. Behind them at the walls and the open gates of Krakenfort people had gathered to watch the battle from afar. Lucius couldn’t see them, the dark outline of the stone fort tiny, but he could see the squares created by the enemy soldiers, a thousand meters away.
“Had the weather been more kind,” Galio rustled standing next to him, before their own lines. “I would say that’s as fine a field I’ve ever fought, milord. It beats Yepehir by a mile and I’m being kind respecting yer father.”
“A good ground for Cavarly, Prefect,” Lucius told him and eyed Gripa with their horses, brave Alana Shields already on hers, the glare on her face comical.
“Not seeing them sire,” Galio commented.
“Will Sabinus win me the mines?” Lucius asked him, knowing Galio will give him the unvarnished truth.
“The Centuries will hold, milord,” the Prefect replied simply.
Lucius nodded and wore his red-painted and tiger shaped helm, the plum on it a crimson red. The engraved beast matching his plate shoulder-covers. The eyes glaring menacingly at the heavy helm’s reinforced top. He tied the cheek-guards and caught Galio watching him.
“They went over and beyond in the design,” Lucius said, a little embarrassed although he loved it.
“You went over and beyond for them Milord,” the loyal officer replied. “Roderick would have been proud.”
“I don’t know about that Galio,” Lucius replied a lump in his throat, the old man irreplaceable in his mind. A family member taken away. It hurt him as much as Ralph’s death and he missed Roderick’s words of caution. The man had been with him since he was a boy. “Roderick never favored fancy stuff, despite his name.”
“What does it mean?”
“Glorious ruler in the Old Tongue,” Lucius replied. “As fine a name one could have.”
He glanced over the field one more time and behind his back at the many people standing there, mainly from the supply train. Family and friends. Faye in the middle of the lot, scarlet hair blowing in that same breeze, white hands clasping his Alden pendant and her tensed face an unrecognizable mask of worry. Lucius gulped down and turned his dark-blue eyes at the lines of the legionnaires standing still in front them.
The First Cohort deployed fully.
Trupo’s First Century, fifty wide holding the center, the reliable Capito’s Fourth nearest to them standing on its left and over at the other edge of their formation stood Centurion Mangas Third. Sabinus had taken the First and Second Centuries of the Second Cohort up the gentle slope and the other two were standing behind their lines in reserve. Damian’s Third behind its namesake on one corner and Spurius Dio’s Fourth on the other.
Kaeso’s Scouts watched the northern flank closer to the approach towards the Iron Mines, the huge dug out side of the mountain covered with cut rocks and tunnels at the other end of it. Curd’s Northmen and mix-breeds kept at the near. Lucius had Mamercus and his own Cavarly on the south side.
With a last tense look at their packed lines, he surrendered command to Galio and went towards his horse and Gripa to wait for the Issirs to react.
As if teasing them the sun that hadn’t appeared for months peeked behind a crack in the clouds above their heads and for a while the white ground shone vividly. The light deflecting on armour and blades. It danced over rubicund plums and livened the dark grey squid banners blowing in the early morning cold breeze coming from the unseen frozen Northern Sea. It stopped for a moment over the well-polished bronze Panthera Tigris snarling head and made it glow brilliantly as if it was made out of pure gold.
Centurion Sabinus, leading over two hundred legionnaires attacked Kroneberg’s guards at the entrance of the Iron Mines mist covered vale. Realizing he was facing a force twice his size, he stopped the assault and redeployed as a blocking force at its mouth. It was to be the first action of the day and the part of the front that never moved an inch for the duration. Sabinus’ men would hold the large force Vanzon had sneaked in there during the previous night for seven hours, losing over a hundred men and Sabinus himself before all was over.
Baron Gert Heuvel in his turn attacked the two hundred meters wide wall of legionnaires three times in as many hours with little success, but plenty of casualties. The fourth time, he attempted to flank their north side, as his previous attempts were a costly strategy to exhaust the First Cohorts javelins. He intended to cut off Sabinus Centuries, but Centurion Kaeso counter-attacked his flanking force, mainly a mix of regulars and mix-breed Issirs, or Half-Nords from Krakenhall’s large and very diverse population.
Kaeso almost gotten himself killed to the regulars heavy spears, until Dirk Curd led a frenzied charge with his mix-breeds and Zofia’s Northmen that plugged the gap forming there. Rumors that part of Vanzon’s auxiliary forces refused to fight against their own kin circulated immediately, but can’t be verified as the Issirs records of the battle haven’t survived. Curd himself had no problem killing anyone standing in his way according to some eye witnesses. Others claim people simply refused to fight him one on one.
Sensing trouble Sir Tellman’s cavalry appeared on the field, but Lucius was expecting them biding his time on the far south corner of the battlefield. The Legatus had aged two years in five hours according to reports. He ordered a counter charge on Midlanor’s heavy cavalry and caught them in the middle of the field not even a hundred meters before they reached their locked lines.
Sir Tellman was unlucky, as Baron Heuvel attacked again with his center force and blocked his own cavalry. Sir Tellman was lucky in that same breath, as realizing he was about to charge on the backs of his own allies, he ordered his fast galloping force to turn hard right and swing around the Issir and Legion frontline, his intention being to hit Lucius force from its unprotected left, or southern side.
The trained riders obeyed dutifully and turned their mounts, recoiling in horror seeing Lucius fast approaching counter-charging force they had completely missed. So the two large Cavalry forces squared up and attacked each other instead, absent a more convenient target. Lucius force had the advantage initially and the speed, but Sir Tellman’s force recovered quickly, every man there worth his salt and twice as skilled.
Sir Tellman had about a hundred riders with him, with sources claiming a much smaller number. Lucius had deployed one hundred and forty in that maneuver, which was every rider he had available and he had ordered a stern-faced Mamercus, his Slingers the only force left guarding the left flank, to fire en masse if the scrap was lost without thought, or hesitation. Mamercus was to kill friends and foes alike, but let no one touch Lucius left flank, if the Legatus was killed.
Lucius cavalry lost thirty people in two seconds the moment the two fast charging forces made contact and he’d lose twice more, before the brutal and crucial engagement was over.
Lord Sirio Veturius
The Fall of Heroes
Chapter II
(Legatus Lucius Alden,
Northern campaigns,
A Hundred Days
Volume III, 13th week,
Last Month of Winter
1st & 2nd Cohort
-Rabid Tiger,
Battle of the Iron Mines,
Part I –A Bloody Charge & the Iron Griffin’s kin)
Late winter of 190 NC
Grimdux
I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
Maps of the Realms
Character portraits
Spoiler
Chapter 183
A Hundred Days
Part IX
Battle of the Iron Mines
Part II
-Yours is the advantage Sir Knight-
[collapse]
The Iron Griffin of Pastelor, Sir Reinir Tellman
The Bloody Tiger of Regia, Sir Lucius Alden
The Errant Knight of Ballard, Sir Emerson Lennox
The Raven of Dawn, Sir Gust De Weer
The Young Tiger of Regia, Sir Ralph Alden
The Priest Knight of Midlanor, Sir Shane Erst Ravn
The Charming Knight of Armium, Sir William Davenport
“Why Reinir ye may ask?
Well, his son almost killed the Bloody Tiger and some fools have him first on the list.”
Lord Anker Est Ravn,
Lord of Midlanor,
Keeper of the Forests, Guardian of Nordland Pass,
Uher’s First Sentinel and High Regent of the Realm.
Speaking at dinner, circa 196 NC
Legatus Lucius Alden
A Hundred Days
Part VIII
Battle of the Iron Mines
Part I
-Good ground for Cavalry-
Lucius Legion
3rd month of winter 190 NC
(Overall strength ~1660?)
-820 legionnaires (+300 recruits)
140+ mixed cavalry, 100+ heavy Slingers, 300+ Scouts-
Legatus Legionis Lucius Alden
Aide de Legatus (former Squire) Marc Gripa
Camp Prefect Galio Veturius (Broad Band Tribune –unofficial until 192 NC)
Panthera Tigris Signifer Brim Solomon (Lesia)
1st Cohort
(Red armband)
1st Century
(Strength 200 Legionnaires)
(Primus Pilus) (I) Centurion Varus Trupo (Lesia)
Optio Nonus Sula (Regia)
2nd Century (Training unit)
(Strength 200~350 Recruits fully armed)
(II) Centurion Gladius Tutor (Regia)
3rd Century
(Strength 100 Legionnaires)
(V) Centurion Artus Mangas (Nord)
4rth Century
(Strength 100 Legionnaires)
(IV) Servius Capito (Regia)
2nd Cohort
(Purple armband)
1st Century (2nd CH/1st CN)
(Strength 120 Legionnaires)
(III) Centurion Decimus Sabinus (Regia)
2nd Century
(Strength 100 Legionnaires)
(VI) Centurion Josi Vala (Lesia)
3rd Century
(Strength 100 Legionnaires)
(VII) Centurion Atri Damian (Mix-breed half-Nord)
4rth Century
(Strength 100 Legionnaires)
(VIII) Centurion Spurius Dio (Regia)
Legion Scouts
(Strength ~300 warriors,
50 Northmen, mostly Gerard Pike’s warband.
Attached were around 150 of Zofia O’ Dargan’s Northmen
and 50 mix-breeds half-Nords, these were under Dirk Curd)
Centurion Kaeso (unknown origins, probably Lesia)
Gerard Pike (Nord)
Dirk Curd (Half-Nord Mix-breed)
Legion Cavalry
(Strength 100 ~140 mixed riders,
included thirty men & women of Legatus’ entourage)
Decurion Faye Numbers (Nord) –not active after Krakenfort-
Decurion Eli Sharp (Nord)
Decurion Alana Shields (Nord)
Decurion Kent (Thin-knees) Long (Nord)
Legion Slingers
(Not attached short range unit
– Semi-autonomous, usually deployed by the Legatus.
Only unit employing women and men under sixteen)
(Strength 80~100 men and women)
Centurion Mamercus Sorex
Decanus Joe Fallon
Around one thousand** civilians (mostly soldier families and a very large number of orphans), merchants and technicians (Blacksmiths, carpenters, laborers, Armorers, hunters, trappers, whores, musicians etc.) following in the supply train. After Krakenfort the supply train had almost two hundred various-sized carriages carrying mostly foodstuff, cots, leather tents, precut wood and weapons among other things.
There was a strange stillness in the morning air. The light at a minimum, the sun a colorless haze behind the thick clouds that had gathered early. The ground frozen, but not as hard as it had been on the road. Or perhaps, we’ve gotten used to it, Lucius thought and watched the men setting up camp, iron picks digging in the hard ground. The camp’s dimensions already carved on it from the engineers, every tent and structure pre-arranged. There was simplicity and order in their work. It was hard and laboring to build a small village at every stop. Once you did it a score of times though, everything appeared easy.
“We run out of grain,” Trupo reported as if trying to mock his thoughts, while bringing him back to the present. “Biscuits all around henceforth milord. The plinth variant. Good for the gums.”
“Put it on the list Centurion,” Lucius replied tiredly. “What’s the size of Vanzon’s camp?”
“A regiment at least, plus about five hundred marines, if the scouts got the banners right.”
“I bet he misses those men he sent to Rockfort,” Lucius commented simply.
A large part of Lord Vanzon’s force had been cut off and was under siege for the last month inside the Castle City of Rockfort near the Alford River. A solid five hundred kilometers to their rear.
“These lads hit us hard at that lake,” Prefect Galio noted. “Almost won them the battle.”
Lucius nodded in agreement. He had been on the receiving end of the Krakenhalls regulars flanking assault at Selm Ailo. The majority of these soldiers’ veterans of the Battle of the Bridges a year back. Perhaps a bit more.
“Why did he get the army out of the fort’s walls?” Lucius asked.
“Two reasons,” Galio replied and eyed the Second Cohort returning from their heavy drilling, led by the freshly transferred to the First Century of the Second Cohort, Centurion Decimus Sabinus. The officer was previously commanding the Third Century of the First Cohort. “That’s Lord Vanzon’s banner. That fat squid won’t run away in front of his people and the second, is they know we will just head for the bridge and straight for Krakenhall the moment they lock themselves behind them walls.”
“Those mines need to be cleared,” Lucius noted. “We can’t have an army overlooking our camp Prefect.”
“If we move on them the Issirs will probably attack us, milord,” Galio replied. “There is cavalry hidden behind those walls.”
There was that of course.
The two camps were facing each other about three kilometers apart. Lord Vanzon had the slopes leading to the massive Iron Mines on his left flank, or North and the Krakenfort’s walls at his rear.
“Can Sabinus clear that flank?” Lucius asked him, slapping his arms to wake them up, as the cold had crept up on him again. He’d spend a week with fever and unable to take solid food, but he’d managed to recover. Despite that Lucius still didn’t feel like himself.
The Northern climate was slowly wearing him down.
The constant marching for almost three months taking its toll as well on the general and his men alike.
“We need to win here, Prefect,” Lucius told Galio seeing his stubborn grimace. “Break Vanzon’s back and prevent him from retreating to Krakenhall. The winter is almost over. Another month down the line and the roads from Midlanor will open up. The Est Ravns might send a whole army up here.”
“The Second Foot is en route to Raoz, milord,” the Prefect reminded him and Lucius coughed to clear his throat before answering.
“That’s a year’s old information Prefect. Midlanor has the Golden Spears stationed there, more a militia than a priesthood and they are training a whole new Division was the word in the King’s Council.”
“Another Foot?” Galio asked him and Lucius smacked his lips.
“Who knows? The Second is two Divisions in one unto itself. No one dares question Lord Anker, when he’s the one footing the bill.”
“Ah, I don’t see them venturing that far, milord, not while fighting the Khan.”
Lucius stared in his aged face, the skin turned a dark red where the cold had burned it.
“Midlanor will never allow the Nordland Pass to close, Prefect. They need that iron. They’ll march up the Arid Peaks before this Spring, unless the Realm turns on its head.”
“Do they need Lord Vanzon sire?” The sharp Prefect asked catching his undertone and Lucius smiled, deep lines on his face contracting, making him appear older than he was.
“There’s your third reason Prefect,” he had told him. “Vanzon can’t lose control of the mines. Prep the men for battle on the morrow. Keep the supply train further away. Issue every spare javelin you got and order Mamercus to have his men well-stocked. No slow-walking, everyone trots from now on,” he sighed deeply, every bone on his body hurting, then added gravely. “The Issirs will attack the moment Sabinus starts marching towards the mines.”
This was the point of no retreat for all sides.
Losing here would be ruinous.
A lot of people are going to get killed and only one army will leave the field.
Tyeus would be well-sated.
Lord Vanzon shocked at the appearance of Lucius’ Cohorts in his path –the aged Lord of Krakenhall had arrived from his capital intend on marching the moment the weather improved towards the besieged Rockfort- he ordered Baron of Krakenfort Gert Heuvel to reinforce the guards at the Iron Mines immediately. Realizing he still held the advantage, as Lucius forces appeared worn out from their insane march over Jelin’s Edge plateau, he decided to fight them on the open terrain, while his back was secure.
Baron Heuvel sent the Lord’s Shield Marvin Kroneberg to the Iron Mines, stripping the fort from its guards and assumed command of Vanzon’s forces himself. He was eager to put the rabid tiger down as he boasted. Several of those present objected to the Lord’s decision. Sir Walter Tellman of Pastelor, commanding Midlanor’s dispatched Cavalry that had force-marched up the almost closed from snow Nordland Pass and had just arrived, argued vehemently for a fighting retreat. Give Lord Anker two months, he urged the local commanders and this problem will go away.
Unable to explain how it would or perhaps under orders not to, he was shamed into agreeing by the boisterous Northern Issirs. A skilled Knight, Sir Tellman begrudgingly went along and he performed admirably in the battle that followed, honoring his famed kin. The reasons for Lord Vanzon’s unwillingness to retreat many, but perhaps the strongest being that in the end he didn’t trust the cunning Lord of Midlanor to put his interests first.
It is rumored that when Lord Anker was informed of the decision later that same month he became so enraged he couldn’t speak for a week. Another report claiming that in his fury he hacked through one of the supporting stone pillars of his villa, with his legendary ‘Swan’s Song’ blade, bringing half a wall and a whole balcony down.
Two servants and an unlucky guard were killed, buried under the debris.
Both accounts are disputed.
Lucius stared in Marc Gripa’s stern face while the man helped him put on his armour. Gripa, a Lorian from Asturia, was almost thirty years of age. He was living in Maza Burg for almost ten years. The man had followed the Legatus forces as he’d lost his Northern wife and son in Ludr the previous year to Krakenhall’s raiders. Wrong place at the wrong time, he’d said simply when Lucius had asked him about it.
“You know your way around armour, Mister Gripa,” Lucius said, an eye on the nervous Faye. The woman, forced to sit this one out, had dark circles under her eyes. Even if she wasn’t showing her pregnancy and could get in her tight armor, Lucius wouldn’t have allowed her to fight. The latter matter a thorny issue between the young couple.
“Squired in my youth for the Holts, milord,” the man replied.
“How is Asturia?” Lucius asked him.
“Ah, all green and open fields. The Lake and the summer ever pleasant. Lush forests and game aplenty,” he sighed remembering his home city. “Better winters, milord,” he finally said, a touch of sadness in his voice.
“Valeria at the near,” Lucius teased mentioning the notorious Canlita Sea island, Faye frowning at the name.
“There’s that too, for men wit means milord,” Gripa replied. “Is it too tight?”
“It’s fine Gripa, thank you,” Lucius said. His new squire bowed his head and exited his tent.
“Alana will take care nothing happens to me and Mister Gripa is an experienced squire,” Lucius explained to the scowling Faye.
“Alana hasn’t faced a knight on a horse in her life,” Faye hissed, her stomach bothering her again. “Your cavalry isn’t made out of knights Alden.”
“I know yer angry when I get my family name thrown at me,” Lucius teased her, wearing his reinforced gauntlets.
“That’s worry and I call ye Lucius aplenty, when we’re coupling,” Faye replied, then frowned. “What’s wit the yer?”
“I spend too much time with your people,” he told her and watched her playing nervously with his family pendant. Faye wore it prominently over her heavy coat. “That’s gold dear. You might want to keep it hidden when visiting the supply train.”
“I don’t want to,” Faye retorted. “People fall all over themselves to get me stuff.”
“Right,” Lucius replied with a smile. “They might want to steal it also.”
“Huh? Over my dead body!” Faye snapped all furious.
“This is what we want to avoid, Faye,” Lucius explained.
“You’re trying to distract me, Alden,” she hissed, narrowing her half-hidden behind a red curtain eyes.
“Is it working?” He teased her.
Faye pushed her thick mane off her face with a troubled sigh.
“For a bit it did,” she admitted.
Lucius watched Centurion Sabinus marching towards the Iron Mines, a deep frown on his face. Over the empty frozen field Lord Vanzon’s forces were also gathering exiting their camp. Behind them at the walls and the open gates of Krakenfort people had gathered to watch the battle from afar. Lucius couldn’t see them, the dark outline of the stone fort tiny, but he could see the squares created by the enemy soldiers, a thousand meters away.
“Had the weather been more kind,” Galio rustled standing next to him, before their own lines. “I would say that’s as fine a field I’ve ever fought, milord. It beats Yepehir by a mile and I’m being kind respecting yer father.”
“A good ground for Cavarly, Prefect,” Lucius told him and eyed Gripa with their horses, brave Alana Shields already on hers, the glare on her face comical.
“Not seeing them sire,” Galio commented.
“Will Sabinus win me the mines?” Lucius asked him, knowing Galio will give him the unvarnished truth.
“The Centuries will hold, milord,” the Prefect replied simply.
Lucius nodded and wore his red-painted and tiger shaped helm, the plum on it a crimson red. The engraved beast matching his plate shoulder-covers. The eyes glaring menacingly at the heavy helm’s reinforced top. He tied the cheek-guards and caught Galio watching him.
“They went over and beyond in the design,” Lucius said, a little embarrassed although he loved it.
“You went over and beyond for them Milord,” the loyal officer replied. “Roderick would have been proud.”
“I don’t know about that Galio,” Lucius replied a lump in his throat, the old man irreplaceable in his mind. A family member taken away. It hurt him as much as Ralph’s death and he missed Roderick’s words of caution. The man had been with him since he was a boy. “Roderick never favored fancy stuff, despite his name.”
“What does it mean?”
“Glorious ruler in the Old Tongue,” Lucius replied. “As fine a name one could have.”
He glanced over the field one more time and behind his back at the many people standing there, mainly from the supply train. Family and friends. Faye in the middle of the lot, scarlet hair blowing in that same breeze, white hands clasping his Alden pendant and her tensed face an unrecognizable mask of worry. Lucius gulped down and turned his dark-blue eyes at the lines of the legionnaires standing still in front them.
The First Cohort deployed fully.
Trupo’s First Century, fifty wide holding the center, the reliable Capito’s Fourth nearest to them standing on its left and over at the other edge of their formation stood Centurion Mangas Third. Sabinus had taken the First and Second Centuries of the Second Cohort up the gentle slope and the other two were standing behind their lines in reserve. Damian’s Third behind its namesake on one corner and Spurius Dio’s Fourth on the other.
Kaeso’s Scouts watched the northern flank closer to the approach towards the Iron Mines, the huge dug out side of the mountain covered with cut rocks and tunnels at the other end of it. Curd’s Northmen and mix-breeds kept at the near. Lucius had Mamercus and his own Cavarly on the south side.
With a last tense look at their packed lines, he surrendered command to Galio and went towards his horse and Gripa to wait for the Issirs to react.
As if teasing them the sun that hadn’t appeared for months peeked behind a crack in the clouds above their heads and for a while the white ground shone vividly. The light deflecting on armour and blades. It danced over rubicund plums and livened the dark grey squid banners blowing in the early morning cold breeze coming from the unseen frozen Northern Sea. It stopped for a moment over the well-polished bronze Panthera Tigris snarling head and made it glow brilliantly as if it was made out of pure gold.
Centurion Sabinus, leading over two hundred legionnaires attacked Kroneberg’s guards at the entrance of the Iron Mines mist covered vale. Realizing he was facing a force twice his size, he stopped the assault and redeployed as a blocking force at its mouth. It was to be the first action of the day and the part of the front that never moved an inch for the duration. Sabinus’ men would hold the large force Vanzon had sneaked in there during the previous night for seven hours, losing over a hundred men and Sabinus himself before all was over.
Baron Gert Heuvel in his turn attacked the two hundred meters wide wall of legionnaires three times in as many hours with little success, but plenty of casualties. The fourth time, he attempted to flank their north side, as his previous attempts were a costly strategy to exhaust the First Cohorts javelins. He intended to cut off Sabinus Centuries, but Centurion Kaeso counter-attacked his flanking force, mainly a mix of regulars and mix-breed Issirs, or Half-Nords from Krakenhall’s large and very diverse population.
Kaeso almost gotten himself killed to the regulars heavy spears, until Dirk Curd led a frenzied charge with his mix-breeds and Zofia’s Northmen that plugged the gap forming there. Rumors that part of Vanzon’s auxiliary forces refused to fight against their own kin circulated immediately, but can’t be verified as the Issirs records of the battle haven’t survived. Curd himself had no problem killing anyone standing in his way according to some eye witnesses. Others claim people simply refused to fight him one on one.
Sensing trouble Sir Tellman’s cavalry appeared on the field, but Lucius was expecting them biding his time on the far south corner of the battlefield. The Legatus had aged two years in five hours according to reports. He ordered a counter charge on Midlanor’s heavy cavalry and caught them in the middle of the field not even a hundred meters before they reached their locked lines.
Sir Tellman was unlucky, as Baron Heuvel attacked again with his center force and blocked his own cavalry. Sir Tellman was lucky in that same breath, as realizing he was about to charge on the backs of his own allies, he ordered his fast galloping force to turn hard right and swing around the Issir and Legion frontline, his intention being to hit Lucius force from its unprotected left, or southern side.
The trained riders obeyed dutifully and turned their mounts, recoiling in horror seeing Lucius fast approaching counter-charging force they had completely missed. So the two large Cavalry forces squared up and attacked each other instead, absent a more convenient target. Lucius force had the advantage initially and the speed, but Sir Tellman’s force recovered quickly, every man there worth his salt and twice as skilled.
Sir Tellman had about a hundred riders with him, with sources claiming a much smaller number. Lucius had deployed one hundred and forty in that maneuver, which was every rider he had available and he had ordered a stern-faced Mamercus, his Slingers the only force left guarding the left flank, to fire en masse if the scrap was lost without thought, or hesitation. Mamercus was to kill friends and foes alike, but let no one touch Lucius left flank, if the Legatus was killed.
Lucius cavalry lost thirty people in two seconds the moment the two fast charging forces made contact and he’d lose twice more, before the brutal and crucial engagement was over.
Lord Sirio Veturius
The Fall of Heroes
Chapter II
(Legatus Lucius Alden,
Northern campaigns,
A Hundred Days
Volume III, 13th week,
Last Month of Winter
1st & 2nd Cohort
-Rabid Tiger,
Battle of the Iron Mines,
Part I –A Bloody Charge & the Iron Griffin’s kin)
Late winter of 190 NC
