by P D Ceanneir
Outside of the north walls was the wide pool called the Mali Jorne, or Younger Mali. The river ran into this before it hit the walls west of the gate and started to trickle down into the catacombs below the city where the water table lay that supplied the city wells.
Sir Colby, with a company of two hundred legionnaires, had taken a route to the pool via the thick forests and reed beds that spread along the course of the river. Once they reached the pool they entered the tall thick stalks at its shores and stayed their overnight, getting as close to the walls as possible without being seen. Now that the sun was high in the sky, the knight and his command, stayed out of sight from the enemy soldiers in the watchtowers. They wore cloaks that matched the colours of the tall reed stems, though it would be hard to spot a small group, but a company of two hundred men was a different matter. Havoc was aware of this and knew he had to act fast. He did not wish Sir Coby’s men massacred by the archers on the gate towers and the rest of the garrison roused in alarm.
Magnus walked out of the guard hut in a Vallkyte chest piece that was far too big for him, he caught Havoc’s half smile, and he shrugged.
‘Why are Vallkytes so tall?’ he moaned.
‘Why are you so short?’ said Havoc, ‘we need this gate open.’
‘Shouldn’t we wait for Powyss?’
‘No time.’
They both crossed the small courtyard heading directly towards the gate, when suddenly, there were urgent shouts from the west archery tower, soldiers on the battlements turned away from the battle plain and looked to the west side of the citadels walls. Men moved quickly and officers ordered archers to fire.
‘Damn! The Legion has been seen,’ hissed Havoc, ‘they’re going to be massacred by archers if we don’t get this gate open.’
Powyss was cautious; he did not want to send men out in the open with no idea of numbers and enemy placements. Hexor and Foxe, with a handful of scouts, sneaked ahead giving time for the rest of the Raiders to exit the hidden passage. Soon the courtyard was teeming with green armoured warriors who bunched together in the tight space. Furran and Brynd were busy keeping discipline as they placed them in neat rows and issued deployment orders to groups and individuals. Time was drawing thin; Powyss knew he had to make a move soon.
The three guards at the gate fell to SinDex, Havoc had sliced open the back of the first before he knew what was happening, the second writhed on the ground with an upward slice to his legs where Magnus finished him off, and the third died quickly as the prince’s blade pierced his chest. Magnus ran to the gates and pulled back the heavy bolting locks while Havoc watched for any more Vallkytes. The heavy oak, beam that stretched across the double gates, was too heavy for Magnus to lift. He solved this by using a localised burst of the third element and the beam shot upwards of its own accord, bounced off the upper arch of the opening, and nearly crushed Magnus on its return journey if Havoc had not pulled him out of the way. Unfortunately, this escapade got them noticed not just by the men on the walls, but also by half a dozen Vallkytes racing towards them from the main camp, swords drawn. Magnus again used the wind element, thrusting his arms out, palms up; the oak beam rose up above his head and threw it with a forward motion of his hands. It took the first three enemy soldiers off their feet and caused the others to stumble as the residual burst of the gale blasted through them, giving Magnus time to attack.
Havoc pushed the doors open. As he looked out, he saw a shower of arrows raining down upon the legion soldiers as they hid behind their shields. The prince shouted for them to move towards him. Sir Colby, eagerly watching for the gate to open, urged his men into a sprint. Each man wore little armour and mail, which would be cumbersome in the water, but the dampness, still weighed down the quilted overcoats they wore.
Magnus was using the wind element to blast away more soldiers as they ran from the camp. Some archers on the battlements saw the fight and shot down at Magnus, Havoc intervened by knocking away the arrows with his sword. He pulled back his brother to the gate so they were out of sight of the archers.
‘Thanks, but I had that under control,’ said Magnus.
‘Yeah sure,’ Havoc rolled his eyes, ‘your wife wants me to look after you. So that is what I intend to do.’
‘Did she say that?’
‘Of course she did, she loves you,’ said Havoc and Magnus smiled. He smiled even more when Sir Colby, followed by the two hundred men of the Princes Legion, entered the gate.
‘Right, let’s kick ass!’ he said and led the Legion to the nearest battlement steps.
The Vallkytes running from the camp hesitated as the small mass of the Legionaries stormed through the gate, but their major problem was at their rear. The Raiders made their move and rushed them from behind as Powyss’s unit ran towards the north gate. Havoc ordered them to use their Spit Guns and take out the archers.
Mad-gellan and the bulk of the Raiders ran down to the east entrance. Shields up and bunched together in one tight mass. Quarrels dinged off their shields and armour as they edged down to the gate. Whyteman and his Eternal gave covering support, picking off crossbowmen as the Raiders moved forward. Once they reached the gate, Mad-gellan shouted orders for his men to break formation and rush the steps to the tiered battlements and towers. Furious hand-to-hand fighting took place as a chaotic situation of green armoured soldiers ran in all directions slaying at will and still more of the Raiders streamed out of the library cloisters to augment the numbers of the first attackers.
Gunach and his dwarves ran up the stairs of the east facing stone archery towers, killing any who stood in their way with large sweeping swipes from their axes; Mactan and his unit followed close behind lunging spears over the heads of the shorter dwarves to take out any enemy on the high placed stairs.
Havoc, Magnus and Powyss used pressure waves of the third element to leap to the higher walkways of the battlements. Together the trio did the most damage on the walls as they used the Rawn Arts to throw bodies over the parapet and cut their way towards the east gate. The flame wreathed blade of Bor-Teaven was clear across the plain as it ejected bright bursts of fire into the mass of enemy.
Havoc raced along the walls, splitting from the other two. He was confronted my three crossbowmen and two Vallkyte infantrymen as they attempted to block his route. The prince shrugged off his grey cloak and lowered his sword; he raised his other hand and used the Rawn Arts to cause the crossbows to explode, showering their owners in splinters and making them scream in agony as the shards pierced flesh. He did the same with the infantrymen, who were left baffled by the power that ran through their swords before the blades shattered.
Inside the prince’s head, the Blacksword approved, to use the earth element in such a way took skill and energy. However, Havoc’s ability to link Pyromantic Surges to the art gave him an edge. He did not weaken as other Rawns would; in fact, he was elated and tireless as the battle continued.
More Raiders were following the forerunners from the cloisters and attacking the enemy soldiers that spilled onto the lawn. The white tents were set on fire. King Vanduke and General Plysov could not miss the black smoke as it rose in the still warm air.
Once the Raiders succeeded in occupying the walls in force, the dwindling numbers of Vallkytes were doomed. They spared none that resisted; those that did were pushed over the walls only to smack the ground below with a sickening crack. Eventually, pockets of soldiers surrendered by throwing down their weapons. The city guard had lost over a third of their numbers. The problem of looking after prisoners would deplete much needed men and resources, so the prince had them rounded up at the east gate, and ordered the gates opened.
‘Strip to your breaches!’ he ordered, ‘and leave the citadel of the Roguns forever, you are free to go.’ The gates opened and approximately two hundred men, most with light wounds, were shoved out at spear point onto the wide-open plain of Aln. Most found their way back to Plysov’s host, but they had just traded one battle for another.
The cry had gone up among the Vallkyte army; some had noticed the pall of thick black smoke. Plysov halted his force and turned in his saddle to look back towards the citadel. From this distance, he could dimly see soldiers on the walls and he knew they were not his men.
‘The citadel has been breached!’ said one of his aids next to him.
Plysov said nothing. He stared coldly at the city that was once his governorship.
To the north, a cheer rose up from the Rogun host.
‘By the gods, the prince has done it,’ said Dolment as he sat his horse with the other fully armoured Ifor Lancers. The king placed him in charge of four hundred cavalry made of the Lancers and some Rogan Heavy Horse. They remained as ordered at the north edge of Barnstown. The black smoke from the citadel rose higher into the blue midday sky as he watched.
‘My lord,’ said his lieutenant pointing to the west, ‘the Nithi are moving.’
It was obvious that General Plysov had sent a messenger to Mad-gellan and now the Nithi were moving to attack, and they were coming through the deserted town in a bid to flank the Rogun host.
He had done it; the citadel of Aln-Tiss belonged to the Roguns again. Havoc surveyed the carnage around him, and then looked out onto the wide expanse of the Aln from his position on the east battlement. He had hoped that Plysov would return with his men and try to take back the citadel so his father would trap him against the citadel walls while the Eternals lessened the Vallkyte numbers from the battlements. Instead, he was making a move towards the Rogun Host.
‘Sir Magnus, keep the Legion and Gunach’s dwarves here and secure the citadel,’ he shouted along the wall to his brother. ‘Major Powyss, form up the Raiders at the east gate!’ he saw Powyss acknowledge this with a wave.
Magnus approached him, stepping over copses by the dozen, ‘What’s the plan?’ he queried.
‘I’m going to help father.’
The way that the Vallkytes deployed differed from the Roguns. General Plysov formed his host into three squares called “Battles” each had companies and sub-auxiliaries’. The first Battle was the two thousand mass of Nithi, augmented by the 6Th Company of Wyani Crossbow Militia; the general attached them to the Nithi flanks in case of attack from Rogun heavy horse. Plysov commanded the second Battle and the third stayed to the rear as reserves, these would absorb the half-naked prisoners now released from the citadel. The general first thought was to return to the safety of the city, but if his eight hundred soldiers inside the citadel failed to keep the city, then it stood to reason that the new occupying host had to be numerous enough to hold it. His primary threat was King Vanduke and he made the conscious decision to move his host to confront him. Although, he was very much aware that the host within the city could still sally forth and attack his rear lines, this is why he left his third Battle supplied with his longbowmen. Away to the northeast, the Rogun army had stretched long and wide over the grassland, using the furthest edge of Barnstown’s suburbs to cover their left flank. Plysov’s main concern was the Rogun cavalry, which outnumbered his own, so he fringed his Battles with infantrymen carrying pavise shields, which were as tall as a man was, and had convex rims to deflect arrows and lance strikes. The pavisier, usually armed with a crossbow, would hide behind the shield and take down riders should they ride too close.
The Nithi Battle split as they outpaced Plysov’s main body. Mad-daimen himself, led a large group of four hundred taking them east. He raced them through the outskirts of Barnstown’s narrow streets, over the cobble main road that bisected the town at its heart and encountered a unit of Roguns blocking their way through to the north exit of Boland Street. The Nithi warriors suddenly became so tightly packed together in the confined space between the rows of houses that they were only able to bring a hundred men to bear on the Rogun shield wall. They rushed into the attack anyway. yelling a bloodcurdling scream as they clashed with their opponents.
Nithi warriors on the Battle’s left flank took the outer edge of the towns cattle market stalls as they entered Barnstown. This group, commanded by Raimen, rushed straight towards the Rogun left flank. They sprinted so quickly that the king had little time to order his cavalry on the left to counter the Nithi attack because they shortened the distance quickly thereby nullifying the Rogun Cavalry. The Rogun infantry at the end of that line braced for impact of the Nithi charge.
King Vanduke sent a message down to his cavalry on his left anyway, ordering them to break away from that flank. He hoped his men there would hold the Nithi until he knew what Plysov was planning at the centre. Trapping Mad-daimen in Barnstown should help the situation, he hoped.
Two thousand Nithi smashed into the Rogun left. The shock pushed them back a few paces, but then they found their footing and held them still. Shield to shield shoulder to shoulder. Sharp implements’ relentlessly prodding and prying over and under the rims. Screams rang out as points and edges of blades found gaps in both armour and shields. Soon the coppery smell of blood was thick in the air as the walls of both sides wavered and rippled to the shove and push of thousands of men as soldiers fell on both sides. Gaps opened in the Rogun line, officers filled them with men in the next rank and the killing continued. Precious minutes ebbed away, feeling like hours. Those soldiers, who fell from wounds in the front rank, were crushed underfoot if they were not pulled free of the writhing mass.
Vanduke ignored the danger from his left. If he repositioned his men to neutralise the Nithi host them Plysov would attack his vulnerable soldiers as his right flank opened up. Instead, he watched the Vallkytes and tried to outthink his enemy. Elkin fidgeted beside him on his horse. He rose up on his stirrups to see over the heads of the Vallkytes at something in the distance.
‘Look sire, the main gate of the city is opening,’ said Elkin, pointing to the citadel.
Everyone, including the king, looked south.
The Raiders exited the east gate at a run and quickly formed into a wide thin unit. Nearly four thousand men, including Velnour’s cavalry on foot, ran in a long formation three rows deep aiming for the Vallkyte rear. Clad in their lightweight armour, they jogged over the plain at a fair pace, keeping formation.
‘We are a small number to stand against the full brunt of Plysov’s host,’ remarked Powyss as he ran beside the prince at the head of the Raiders. Unlike others around him, he was not breathing heavily, as a master of the Rawn Arts he was far fitter that the younger men behind him.
‘Father will send what he can to aid us. Once he sees both our forces can encircle Plysov’s,’ answered Havoc.
‘I hope you are right, or this is going to be a difficult fight.’
‘When has it ever been easy?’
At about three hundred feet from their foe, they halted.
General Plysov took that moment to send massagers back to reorganise his reserves at the rear and face the new threat from the citadel.
‘Who in the name of the gods are they?’ said one of his aides, a young lieutenant called Rilke.
Plysov surveyed the green armoured ranks, he saw a boy with a pole unfurl the standard upon it to reveal a newly stitched black dragon on a red-gold field.
Plysov gasped, ‘The standard of the De Proteous! Prince Havoc has come with his Raiders.’
‘The prince!’ said Rilke, ‘how has he got here so soon?’
‘I know not, but he is a problem we must face.’
King Vanduke took that moment to send support to his eldest son.
He sent his Second Division of Horsed Archers. Over seven hundred pounding horses with their shorter curves bows at the ready, raced into a long attack formation. Guiding their well-trained mounts with their knees and legs so they could have their hands free for their weapons, they took a wide arc and skirting the edge of the enemy host on their unguarded left. They curved around the Vallkytes firing indiscriminately without aiming into the mass of men. Their first volley brought soldiers down, but the pavisiers raised shields and caught the shafts or knocked them away. The enemy fo
rmation was starting to bunch as the horsed archers encircled them. Plysov yelled out orders to space out and move forward. Several crossbowmen braved the rain of arrows and ran out to shoot their quarrels at the passing equestrians. Others joined in this retaliation attack, and soon men ran out to bring the archers down with bow or javelins. The pressure slackened for the Vallkytes as the horsed archers retreated.
However, during the attack, Plysov noticed that the Raiders had edged closer and were now a few hundred yards away.
The four hundred Roguns in Barnstown suffered losses as the Nithi forced them back from their well-defended position. This gave Mad-daimen’s men room to squeeze out of the tight street and into the cobbled square that the Roguns occupied.
Soon the four hundred were down to two hundred as sheer numbers of Nithi overwhelmed the first line. They fell back keeping their spears level as they retreated; the way was open for the Nithi to hit the Rogun rear.
The Rogun left flank was crumbling under the pressure. The king had not engaged the rest of the army and their discipline wavered as they as they stood their ground while their colleagues on the left suffered. However, King Vanduke gambled the last throw of the dice as he sent half of his reserves to strengthen the beleaguered left flank hoping they would hold back the tide of the Nithi until he knew what his son was going to do.
‘He’s hopelessly outnumbered,’ informed Elkin who was watching the Raiders formation edge closer to the Vallkyte third Battle.
‘True, but he knows what he is doing,’ said the king with a note of concern in his voice.
Officers in the third Battle ordered the longbow archers to move to the front and loose arrows unto the approaching Raiders. Prince Havoc halted the men and noted with pride how the soldiers kept the tight formation after the hard run from the city gates.
