The seas were calm, with just enough steady breeze to propel their ships towards their destination. Using the stars to navigate, Lord Dalby continually checked his route on the map he had laid out on the table in his cabin. While the majority of his soldiers and officers were getting some rest below decks, he had taken it upon himself to ensure everything went off without a hitch. Being on the beach before sunrise was paramount to the surprise element of their attack. Get the timing wrong, and not only would the tide be heading back in, but those defending Bargsea would spot them, and he knew it would not take a genius to know what they were up to.
If getting all that right was not difficult enough, once ashore the men would then split into two groups. The first would head into a cave system and take some hidden passage leading into Bargsea. Meanwhile, the second would head for a small outcrop of trees up nearer the outer walls. All of this had to be carried out under cover of darkness, and with the ship's lights already out, only the small candle burning in his cabin allowed him to see his map, although that was soon to follow. Lord Dalby took one large intake of breath before exhaling loudly. The moment of truth would soon be upon them, and the fight to claim justice for his dead sister was finally within reach.
Lord Dalby licked his finger and thumb before reaching down to the small flickering flame on his candle, extinguishing it with a small pinch. The wick made a last, defiant sizzle as the cabin fell into complete darkness, and Lord Dalby stood for a few moments, stationary in the black void, allowing his eyes to accustom themselves, before trying to make a move. Seeing only faint outlines of where the furniture was positioned in his cabin, Lord Dalby slowly used his hands to feel along the wall, before reaching down to where he knew the small wooden bed was positioned. Although quite sure he was in no state to sleep, he knew rest was essential if his mind was to be prepared what lay ahead.
Chapter 11.And so it begins.
The smallest of the three forces attacking Endallen was commanded by Lord Mangilly of the Eastern Range and Lord Ashton of Muria. Consisting of just two ships carrying approximately one hundred and fifty soldiers, they aimed at tying up any reinforcements that Lord Elthan might be trying to muster in the south of his lands. While neither nobleman had thus far gone to the lengths of some of the others in their show of support, both men were loyal to the new king, just as they had been to the old one. Longtime neighbours, both noble families were well acquainted with each other, although history showed not always friendly. Numerous skirmishes had occurred over the years, mostly small-scale arguments over insignificant patches of land that bordered the two regions. However, since Luca’s grandfather had brokered peace and urged a marriage between the two families to bond their ties, things of late had improved greatly between them. While there were still some disagreements about who should govern one or two areas, both seemed happy that the status quo should remain.
Under cover of darkness, the first of the smaller landing boats came to an abrupt halt as it hit the sandy beach. Ten men hurriedly leapt over the sides and onto the land before the boat was pushed back out into the water to make another trip. The two ships, anchored just a few hundred yards from the coast had gone as close as they had dared without risking their hulls hitting the seabed and becoming grounded. Such vessels were very expensive, and neither nobleman could afford to lose such an important item, and hence great care was taken by both men to ensure their prized assets were never put at any unnecessary risk.
For over half an hour the smaller boats rowed back and forth, each time dropping off just a few more men. Once they were all ashore, supplies quickly followed, before just a few horses were slowly harnessed down from the ships onto boats and taken up on to the sands. Last, of all, the two nobles made their own way across the water and up onto the beach, stepping on to Endallen lands. Each was afforded one of the few horses, while the other animals were laden with the supplies they had brought ashore. While this may not have been enough for any prolonged stay, it was hoped by both Lord Mangilly and Lord Ashton that any fighting would be over quickly.
With their two ships ordered back to their respective homes, the two nobles and their small army were now all alone in what was now enemy territory. With the first sign of light soon upon them, both noblemen knew the importance of moving from the beach. Their predefined target was a small town called Milford, just a mile inland, that not only had a surrounding wall, but a small keep at its centre. Probably used as an outpost in days long since past, when fighting among those that once lived in the kingdom was a little more commonplace, it would prove a valuable base of operations. Although not intending to stay in one place, somewhere would be needed to store any supplies they acquired, and although it would also mean having to leave a small part of their force to keep control over it, both men felt it something they needed.
With the dawn almost upon them, the town of Milford came into view, its tall stone Keep clearly visible above the houses and outer wall. Knowing time was of the essence, and that surprise was a must if they aimed at taking the town without a fight, Lord Mangilly ordered a force of men to take the area in and around the main gate. Moving under cover of the half-light of early morning, a dozen men, scurried along the main track towards the gates. Thankfully they were open, as they probably were most of the time unless they deemed there to be a sufficient reason to do otherwise. On duty, standing over a small brazier warming their hands were two guards, completely unaware as to what approached them.
The two Endallen soldiers talked quietly to each other, rubbing their hands over the flickering flames of their brazier to keep them warm. While it was common knowledge that their Lord and Nobleman had caused some trouble with the king, all those rumours seemed a million miles away, and few folk in the south of Endallen bothered too much about them. It was true that the minor nobles of the area had started recruiting extra soldiers, but with the harvests upon them, most of the fittest men remained to work the fields. Besides which, even if the rumours of Lord Elthan committing treason were true, the town of Milford was far enough away from his home not to be bothered by the situation.
Two of Lord Mangilly’s men moved right while two more went left, as the remainder continued on the track, walking right up to the gates before the two guards even knew they were there.
“Halt!” One said, suddenly realising they had unexpected visitors.
“Who goes…” The man’s question was cut short as he was grabbed from behind, and a large gloved hand covered his mouth. The second was similarly dealt with, and both men were quickly overpowered, gagged and bound. After being dragged inside the small building just inside the entrance that acted as the gatehouse, the two prisoners were ordered to remain quiet and still or risk death. While two men remained there with them, one man hurried up the stone stones that led to the top of the wall. With a lamp in hand, he waved it aloft, moving it slowly from left to right so those waiting out in the dimness of the early morning could see that all was as planned.
With only a couple more soldiers on duty, the small garrison building in Milford was very quickly taken and done so without any need for fighting. Caught completely by surprise, the soldiers on duty seemed only too willing to surrender when they realised the numbers opposing them. As Lord Mangilly and Lord Ashton trotted their horses alongside each other, through the town gates, over half of their force was now positioned within Milford. The few residents who saw fit to be up and about at such an early hour were asked to remain indoors, all of which did so willingly. A few people saw fit to peer from their windows as the army of soldiers gathered in the small market square, unsure as to what was going on. With the town now secure, the two noblemen headed for the man in charge, and the large house near the centre belonging to the minor noble who resided there. Prefering a more luxurious house over living in the keep, it seemed the noble in command was antcipating no trouble.
A somewhat disgruntled figure, quite short and overweight, was somewhat unceremoniously dragged from his house and dropped to the gr
ound before the two men leading this part of the invasion. Releasing several expletives as he dusted himself off, still wearing nothing more than his nightclothes he looked up at the two men glaring down at him.
“What is the meaning of this? I am Lord of this town and the lands surrounding it,” he grumbled, his sagging chins moving from side to side as he spat out his words.
“Ah! Good. We have the right man then,” Lord Ashton grinned, ignoring the comments being aimed in his direction.
“I am Lord Ashton of Muria, and this fine gentleman is Lord Mangilly of the Eastern Range. This town is now the property of the king. All claims of Lord Elthan and his nobles are forfeit.”
The minor noble paused for a few moments as the words sank in, although that did not stop him from cursing again. Lord Mangilly had evidently had enough of the outburst and with a wave of his hand ordered one of his men to do something about it.
The soldier stepped forward, and with a swift, sharp swing of his hand, he clattered the minor nobleman around the side of his head. The effect was instant, and the deluge of abuse abruptly halted, something that Lord Ashton found highly amusing.
“Take him away, there must be a prison somewhere in the town, see that he is found a cell!” Lord Mangilly asked.
Lord Aston watched as the minor Endallen noble was dragged across the street towards the garrison building, but turned sharply as his attention was diverted elsewhere.
Having had two of their men search the house for other occupants, both noblemen were somewhat surprised when a young lady, probably no more than sixteen years of age was presented to them.
“Are you a daughter of Lord…What was his name?” Lord Ashton asked turning to his colleague.
“No idea, we didn’t ask him,” Lord Mangilly replied with a grin.
The young woman shook her head, clearly afraid she was in some kind of trouble, “No, my Lord,” she said in a barely audible voice.
“Lord Gleeson has me share his bed.”
Lord Ashton was shocked by the words, “Really? The dirty old…Why, the man is old enough to be your grandfather!”
“My family has no choice. We can not afford the rent on our small farm, so I have to allow Lord Gleeson to do as he pleases to me, instead of payment.”
Evidently disgusted by what he was being told, Lord Ashton slipped down from his horse.
“Go back inside, My Dear. Lord Gleeson, or whatever his name is will not be bothering you again.”
“But what of my family? If I don’t allow him to…use me, he will throw them out on to the streets.”
“No, he won’t. This Lord Gleeson is no longer in charge. These lands are claimed for the king. Nobody will be throwing them out, so go back indoors, gather your things and perhaps you can return home later.”
The young woman still looked somewhat uncertain, perhaps unsure whether she should believe this stranger. However, after a little pause, she turned about and headed back inside the house.
“Seems things here need sorting out,” Lord Mangilly suggested as he also slipped down from his own horse, and joined Lord Ashton before the pair of them headed indoors.
As the sun rose, Milford and its surrounding lands were coming to terms of no longer being ruled by Lord Gleeson, or further up the chain of command, Lord Elthan. Now apparently directly under the rulership of the crown, many were uncertain as to what they should be doing. Did they carry on their jobs as they did every day, or were they now expected to do something else? While this was not something either Lord Mangilly or Lord Ashton had foreseen, it was easily rectified. Once word spread that the people were to carry on as they did every day and that they would not come to any harm, few seemed overly concerned by the change in leadership. As a matter of fact, some actually appeared pleased by the fact that Lord Gleeson had been removed, something not missed by Lord Ashton.
In the home of the previous ruler, the two nobles sat at a large dining table drinking cups of tea and looking at their map of the surrounding area. It was evidently clear that the previous owner was not short of money as the room was lavishly decorated, much like the rest of the house. In a town that looked somewhat impoverished, it was not difficult to see that Lord Gleeson had kept the wealth and allowed those under him to suffer hardship. The two discussed their next move, which would see them swing eastward and towards a town called Chesterton, a place that Lord Ashton had heard of before.
“I believe it will be much harder to take than this place. For starters, they will surely now know we are coming. Secondly, although it expanded beyond its walls years ago, the man in charge there is an ambitious one. The family name is Sunnington if my memory serves me correct.”
“You think he will try and meet us in battle to gain Lord Elthan’s favour?” Lord Mangilly asked.
“Perhaps! Of course, there is also another option he might take, given a little persuasion.”
Lord Mangilly looked at his colleague with a somewhat bemused look on his face.
Lord Ashton smiled, “Well, if he is that ambitious, he may be persuaded to stand aside. If he thinks there are gains for him to make after Lord Elthan’s demise, then he may even fight with us.”
Lord Mangilly looked clearly disgusted, “Really? Has the man no honour?”
“Not from what I’ve heard about him. I believe he would sell his own children if he thought there was something to be gained from it.”
“Can we trust someone like that?”
Lord Ashton took a sip from his tea, before letting out a slight chuckle, “Personally, I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him…So no. However, if we can at least make him believe he has more to gain from not standing against us, then it might be a better idea than fighting him.”
Lord Mangilly leaned back a little in his seat. Slightly uncomfortable and too upright for his liking, he fidgeted somewhat while trying to think. Avoiding a fight was always preferable if it could be avoided, probably even more so when so far away from home and on what was now enemy soil. Lord Ashton suggested that they move out later that day and make a camp outside Chesterton.
“We need to show our full force, perhaps try and force him into thinking a fight is not a good idea.”
“If he does fight, will he have the numbers to oppose us?”
Lord Ashton shook his head, “I don’t believe so, no. I would imagine he has already sent troops to help Lord Elthan. What remains will be small in number and probably supplemented by civilians.”
Suddenly a knock came at the door, and one of Lord Ashton’s men entered. Seemingly out of breath, suggesting that he had run to get there, the man took a few moments to pause before speaking.
“Begging your pardon My Lord, soldiers are approaching.”
Lord Ashton turned to Lord at Lord Mangilly, both giving the other a somewhat blank look.
“Close the gates, and ready the men, but stay off the walls…I don’t want to reveal our strength just yet.”
The soldier gave a single nod of his head and scurried away, leaving the two nobles to second-guess who or what was approaching.
“Only one way to find out I suppose,” Lord Mangilly said, suggesting they make their own way back to the walls and see for themselves.
With their horses having been stabled, both men decided it was quicker to walk than waiting for somebody to saddle them. With long, purposeful steps, both men walked at pace towards the gate they had entered that very morning. As had just been requested, a team of men were shoving the vast wooden gates closed, although from the effort they were using it didn’t look very easy, suggesting that the hinges had perhaps become a little rusty. However, with a little effort, the two large wooden gates were pushed together, and a large wooden beam lifted up to secure them shut. Wanting to see for themselves exactly who or what was approaching, both men made their way up the stone steps to the top of the wall.
“It appears our trip later will not be necessary,” Lord Ashton said catching sight and recognising the banner being flown. “It
seems Lord Sunnington has already heard of our arrival.”
Lord Mangilly smirked as he counted the number of riders heading down the main track towards the main gates.
“And he thinks with twenty-two men he can persuade us to leave,” he chuckled.
“He clearly didn’t receive accurate information on numbers did he,” Lord Ashton replied.
The two of them waited patiently, ensuring that only a few guards remained visible along the battlements as their surprise guests approached.
“Do you think we should just kill him now and be done with it?” Lord Mangilly asked, speaking in quite a serious tone.
“As tempting as that may be, I do think those horses they have would come in handy.” Lord Ashton paused a little before explaining his idea.
Lord Sunnington was evidently wary of getting to close and stopped his men about fifty paces from the main gate. Looking along the wall he could see a handful of soldiers, probably archers, and although not out of their range, he felt far enough away not to give them an easy target should they decide to open fire on him. Reports of intruders landing on the beach and heading for Milford had reached him early in the morning not long after it had happened. However, being as he had already sent a large proportion of his fighting men to assist Lord Elthan, he was a little short on numbers. Thankfully, the fisherman who had spotted the landings had reported only two small craft heading ashore and had subsequently estimated that no more than a score of soldiers could have possibly made it up onto the beach.
The Battle for Endallen Page 11
