The Battle for Endallen

by Andrew G. Wood

  “I wish to speak to the man responsible for this unprovoked attack!” Lord Sunnington called up to the men he could see on the wall. He looked along the line of battlements and could see two men chatting to each other before one vanished from his view.

  “If you surrender your weapons and leave now, I will allow you to return to wherever it is you came from!” He shouted up waiting for some kind of response. There was a prolonged silence, and at first, Lord Sunnington thought no reply was going to be forthcoming and duly turned his horse about to return to his men who had remained just a few yards behind him.

  “I am Lord Mangilly of the Eastern Ranges, and I am claiming this town and lands in the name of the king.” Echoed a voice from the battlements.

  Lord Sunnington smirked. One of the major nobles of Arandor had ventured across the sea to Endallen, presumably to try and increase his favour with the king and gain extra lands for his house. Slowly turning his horse back around, Lord Sunnington looked back up and stared at the man looking down upon him.

  “I thought you would have been with the others trying to get to Bargsea, although I doubt they will succeed in getting anywhere close.”

  “Well, I thought I’d do my bit,” Lord Mangilly replied, shouting back to allow himself to be heard.

  Lord Sunnington apparently felt sure enough of himself that he ventured a little further forward. “And now you have sneaked ashore and taken a town, what do you plan to do next? Raid its treasury and scuttle back off home?”

  Lord Mangilly remained straight-faced, “Well, actually I was coming to invade your town next, but you’ve turned up here and made my job easier.”

  “How so?”

  As those words left his mouth, Lord Sunnington turned his head sharply at the sound of movement to his left and right. His horse fidgeted and resisted his control as he tried to move it about quickly, as dozens of soldiers started lining up around him and his men.

  A wall of shielded infantry, all armed with long spears stood side by side creating a barrier around his small group.

  “Now, perhaps we can talk about your surrender!” Lord Mangilly shouted down from the battlements. He spotted Lord Ashton, who had eventually made his way out with the last of the soldiers that had ventured through the towns other gateway and made their way around the outer wall to where Lord Sunnington had been distracted. The Endallen noblemen cursed and drew his sword as if actually contemplating trying to make a fight of it. However, it was quickly evident from the posture being adopted by some of his men that they did not share in his optimism.

  Once Lord Ashton was happy that his shield-wall was in place and had sufficiently encircled Lord Sunnington and his small force, he ordered them to advance just a few steps forward, thus effectively closing up any small gaps that there might have been. With their pointed long spears thrust outwards before them, the infantry came to a halt with a chorus of stamping feet that ended in one loud simultaneous thump. As if sensing imminent danger some of the horses started to panic, and those atop of them struggled to keep control.

  “Now lay down your arms, and you have my word that neither you nor any of your men will be harmed!” Came a shout from the battlements.

  Lord Sunnington cursed once more and stared up at the man shouting down at him, only to see more reason not to argue. Dozens of new faces appeared along the crenelations, archers with bows at the ready and all pointing down at his direction.

  “The choice is yours. I shall count to ten. Either you surrender, or you and your men will all die.” Lord Mangilly spoke slowly and clearly so that those below him got the message. He watched as Lord Sunnington twisted and turned his body as if looking for an escape route, as he started the countdown.

  “Ten…nine…eight…”

  “Very well!” Came the shout, stopping Lord Mangilly from proceeding.

  Lord Sunnington held out his arm and let the sword in his hand fall to the ground, before looking behind him and ordering his men to do the same.

  “Now, get down from your horses, and one by one you will line up at the gate! Be warned, if any of you makes a false move, my men will open fire!”

  Somewhat crestfallen, Lord Sunnington slipped down from his horse and let the reins drop down over the side of the creatures neck. Without even looking to check that his men were doing the same, he trudged over towards the vast gates of the town and stood as requested. What had started out as a mission to claim glory and honour for Lord Elthan had turned in to a somewhat embarrassing defeat and surrender.

  Chapter 12.Shots in anger.

  Lord Romley had managed a little sleep before getting ready for what he knew would be a make or break day. Although his large army of soldiers was ready to fight, any gains he made in the next few hours would count for nothing if Lord Dalby and his forces were not in place to take advantage of them. Only hoping that the other nobles were already making their attacks, he slowly walked about the vast camp just checking that his men were ready. Passing between makeshift bivouacs and campfires, he gave the occasional greeting to those men that recognised him as he passed by.

  Although each and every man was supposed to make ready as quietly as he could, Lord Romley guessed that with so many doing the same thing at the same time, the constant rattling of swords, spears, shields and other weapons was to be expected. As he clambered up on to his horse, he could see more dark figures as they moved about around the flickering flames of the fires. With several of his own house guards at his side for his own personal protection, he slowly manoeuvred his way to the area he had designated to meet the other nobles. Slightly elevated on a sloping embankment, he could already make out the lights of the enemy and could probably guess that they were preparing, just as he was. While they might have been fewer in number, those fighting for Lord Elthan held all the advantages as far as defensive positions were concerned. Not only did they know the land better, but they had also had some time to prepare. No doubt there would be obstacles and ditches to overcome, and he was in no doubt that the enemy had been watching him just as much as he had been watching them. The idea of one side trying to second-guess the other was only to be expected, but Lord Romley had hoped his plans might see a breakthrough. The main roads into Endallen would naturally be the areas where the greater numbers of defenders would be. However, moving soldiers across unsuitable terrain to make advances in other areas was tricky and risky. Not only was it difficult for his men to get into position but the risk they might be ambushed was far greater.

  As the man in charge of this vast army, Lord Romley was aware that now his plans and ideas had been set out, it was now down to the men to carry them out. Spreading out into several smaller forces, all given a particular point to attack, they would now be out of his range, with only messengers flitting between him and the other groups for updates, and perhaps the blast of a horn to give a signal.

  “The men are in position, My Lord,” Came the voice from a man positioned beside him.

  Lord Romley turned and nodded his head just once to give the signal to proceed. Within just a few seconds word travelled back, and a piercing sound carried across the early morning air. That sound echoed and reverberated as the horns were blown for several seconds to ensure the signal was clear and precise.

  Lord Romley watched on, peering down to where a large contingent of his men had grouped up. Hundreds of shielded infantry, protecting hundreds of archers behind, moved forward to an area that was undoubtedly heavily defended. Smaller lights flickered into life as far as the eye could see as Lord Romley watched his archers preparing to launch their first volley of arrows. With burning tips, Lord Romley gazed, almost transfixed as the sound of hundreds of bowstrings sang out in a harmonious chorus of strumming, as his archers released their arrows up into the early half-light of the morning. Arching upwards as they went he thought they actually had a strange kind of beauty about them as they slowly changed their trajectories and started falling down on the defenders below. No sooner had the first arrows started to
land in and around those defending the area around the road that led into Endallen when a second volley was on its way. Unsure as to exactly how many of those arrows actually found their mark, if any, Lord Romley watched several more such waves of fire seer across the darkened sky before calling a halt.

  Lord Romley took a few moments to reflect on whether his attack had caused any significant damage or loss to the defenders. One by one the small flickering lights of burning arrows vanished before his eyes, an indication that the enemy was still very much in position. He spotted several figures moving about frantically where a much larger fire had started to burn, and watched as a new battle ensued. One of his arrows had evidently hit something flammable, a canvas tent perhaps, he couldn’t be sure in the poor light. This new engagement was between the men he was firing upon and the flames he had caused, unfortunately for him, it was quickly evident that the fire would not win as he witnessed the flames eventually fizzle out. While his initial attack may not have caused any significant damage or great loss to those barring his way, he thought that at least he had caused some panic, and with that in mind, he decided on a second barrage of fire arrows, just to keep the enemy on its toes.

  With the sun slowing creeping upwards into the early morning sky, the man in charge of the king’s forces decided it was now time for a change in tactic. While exchanging arrows with the enemy had signalled the start of the battle, Lord Romley felt more progress needed to be made. Knowing he only needed to achieve a small breakthrough in the enemy lines to allow his forces into the wide open spaces beyond, he studied the enemy positions for any weak spots. Thin wispy fingers of smoke still drifted slowly skyward from a fire caused earlier by his flaming arrows, a sign that he had caused some damage at least. After having a short chat to some of his officers, Lord Romey eventually gave the order for a full advance, and as the sound of horns blasting out their monotonal notes filled the air, Lord Romley turned his horse just a little to get the best view he could.

  A cacophony of stamping feet echoed around him as hundreds of infantrymen carrying broad shields moved forward. Methodically marching in a long line side by side forming a wall of shields to repel the inevitable barrage of enemy arrows and crossbow bolts that would be aimed their way as soon as they were in range. A little further back was his own archers who launched several volleys of their own, firing over the heads of the men moving forward in front of them. Then there was the most important and valuable part of any army. The cavalry, heavy and lightly armoured, they waited patiently while their fellow men trudged painstakingly forward towards the enemy. Quick and mobile, Lord Romley knew it would be his mounted troops that could take advantage of any breakthrough, moving with speed into an area that he needed. For now, though, they, much like himself, were forced to watch as the infantry held their ranks and closed the gap between themselves and the enemy.

  Another horn blast sounded out, and the slow marching infantry suddenly picked up their pace. While still maintaining their lines, Lord Romley spotted the first men to fall as the enemy opened fire. While forming a shield wall was a good and viable tactic, it did not make the men behind it immune to enemy fire. There were always some gaps between shields as the men moved, and although the shields they carried were large in size, they were not big enough to give complete protection to the man behind it. However, unperturbed by their fallen comrades, the infantry surged forward, closing the gap and eventually smashing into the enemy lines. Armed with pointed spears his men thrust and jabbed them out once they had reached the barricades put before them, moving out just slightly from the cover of their shields to make their strike before retreating back behind them.

  The air was filled with the sounds and smells of battle as it raged along an extensive line. Swords clattering against shields and the sounds of men shouting and crying out as they fell. Lord Romley watched, feeling his heart racing and a tinge of sadness for each of the men he saw fall as he perused his lines, looking for that opening. With his archers now redundant and unable to fire he repositioned them into two groups and made sure they were ready to move at a moments notice. While it would be the cavalry that charged forward through any gaps he spotted in the line, Lord Romley knew he would need archers and infantry to hold any breakthrough he may make and ensure his cavalry did not get cut off and secluded from the rest of his force.

  Just as things seemed to be getting nowhere and Lord Romley was seriously considering pulling his men back a while to give them some respite, they heard the blast of another horn. Sounding several short, sharp notes, it was the predefined signal that a breakthrough had been made. Straining his neck, standing as tall as he could in the stirrups of his horse, Lord Romley scoured along his lines to try and see from where the sound had come from.

  “There! Just beyond the southern track,” the man beside him said pointing his hand out to indicate the direction.

  “Send reinforcements into the area. Archers and Infantry, have the light cavalry ready to move.”

  Lord Romley was a seasoned soldier and knew that with the breakthrough occurring on rough terrain, the very idea of merely sending mounted troops in to secure the area and scatter the enemy trying to retake it was foolhardy. For his heavy cavalry to be of use, they needed to be on flat level ground such as one of the tracks or main route, or at worst an open field. Laden down with thick armour, shields and long spears for charging, this was not the best terrain for them to be used. Light cavalry had a chance, although over rough ground the risk in injury to the horses was still too great if they merely rode in recklessly at speed. Hence he also held them back.

  Lord Romley afforded a smile as he watched the enemy trying to reinforce the area just as he was. While he could use troops he had in reserve for that purpose, those defending were having to move from another part of the line to do so. With the enemy strong points being the main road and two narrower tracks, the men would evidently have to come from these areas, making them slightly weaker. Another series of short, sharp blasts sounded, but this time from somewhere nearer the northern track, suggesting another breakthrough had occurred over in that direction. Similarly, Lord Romely immediately ordered the area to be strengthened with archers and infantry, but as the land to the north was slightly flatter he also ordered in a small selection of light cavalry. With the enemy defences already faltering, he knew he needed to keep the pressure up, especially in the area of the main road. While this ultimately meant losing men, in an area that was strongly defended, it did mean preoccupying the bulk of the enemy force, allowing such smaller breakthroughs.

  Barely an hour had passed since the infantry had made its initial charge, and the injured men were being brought back up towards the camp, along with the bodies of the fallen, or at least those that were able to be moved. With two small successes, both of which had seen the enemy have to take up new positions further behind those they had started at, it seemed once more a stalemate had arrived. While keeping the fight going would just be a war of attrition, and one Lord Romley knew he would win due to his superior numbers, too many casualties would bring his leadership into question. Yet any suggestion of letting up the pressure now would also be foolish, as he was certain that a major breakthrough would be imminent.

  It was another of his officers who spotted exactly what Lord Romley had been waiting for. On the southern track, those defending seemed to be in some sort of disarray as his soldiers a little further south pushed forward once more, effectively now attacking from two sides. With many of the obstacles on the track now being overcome and moved out of the way, he made a big decision. Knowing this could be the make or break moment, Lord Romley made the call to move the bulk of his cavalry into this area. After requesting for them to move and then charge along the track he watched on nervously for the scenario to play itself out.

  With the deafening sound of a horn blast and the distant shouts of the men riding the horses, Lord Romley watched as clouds of dust were thrown up by the thundering hooves of the large war horses as they gathe
red pace. With the heavily armoured cavalrymen at the front, they rumbled forward, and although a group of defenders tried to form a defensive line, the men doing so were merely brushed aside as the cavalry burst through. Those not quick enough to move willingly, or stupid enough to try and make a stand, were merely tossed aside as the group of thundering beasts smashed into them. As the steady stream of riders tore through the enemy positions, sporadic fighting broke out as the lighter cavalry following sought to take down those still putting up some resistance. With a large gap now in the line, Lord Romely afforded himself a gratuitous smile as he watched more of his infantry and archers take up their new advanced positions.

  The enemy soldiers further south of the track were now cut off from the rest of their comrades and were left with few options. Either they tried to continue the fight alone or else retreat quickly before they got overrun. Many appeared to take the latter option, and it wasn't long before the entire southern defensive area broke down into utter chaos. Small pockets of men did put up some minor battle, but generally many thought it better to make good their escape. However, for some even that was not possible and it was only a matter of time before the first enemy prisoners were being taken and marched back towards Lord Romley’s camp.