Chapter 3: The Overture of War
Ulrich shifted around in his seat.
"God, that was dark." Odd said as he stood up.
"Where you going?" Ulrich asked.
"It's uh… getting late, so I was going to get to bed." Odd said. A quiet roar of assent flowed through the room.
Ulrich checked his cellphone. "It's not even 7:30. You just don't want to hear anything else sad, do you?"
Yumi looked at him with a straight face. "To be honest, yeah."
"What a sad life." Aelita started. "We haven't even got to the war yet."
With that, the group filed away into the elevator. Jeremy looked at him as he pressed the button to go up. "Come back when you're ready."
"fine." Ulrich said as he heard the doors close. He had already turned his head away from the elevator and began reading to himself. After a few minutes, another voice piped up.
"What? Don't I get to hear it?" The voice asked. Ulrich twisted his head around. Sitting in a chair he had fetched while the others left sat William. He got up and brought the chair with him. Sitting next to Ulrich, he said "Come on. I want to hear what happens next."
"Sorry, I thought you'd left with the rest." Ulrich said as he turned back a page. "Alright, let's get started. The next entry is of a month later. April 14, 1429."
"We had just arrived at port in east Normandy. The port was named Les Logers. Our ship was moored to the dock, 3,000 men in pale armor climbed down onto the docks. Immediately, a British officer approached us. 'So, you're the reinforcements Our Majesty sent for?' I gave a curt nod. 'Alright then, the three officers shall step forward.'
With that, William and I stepped forward. Some guy pushed his way through the crowd. He had a metal helmet on in the shape of a tin can. Thin slits allowed him sight, and holes below the slits allowed speech and breath. A black cross was formed over his face as a vertical band went down the middle and a horizontal one at the eyebrows wrapped around his head. A black cross was painted over his chest. A round, gold shield was slung on his back. On his belt was a small bag, some scrolls, and also a morning star on a partial stick with a 6 inch chain.
He grabbed his helmet and pulled it off. Long, blonde hair cascaded down to his shoulders. Blue eyes seemed to pierce the British officer's skull, staring straight into his brain. 'What are my men to do?' He asked.
'You are to move into Hermes. Two mercenaries are supposed to be there already, along with 500 British soldiers. You'll be part of the advance against Rouen to capture the eastern half of Normandy. You can see it from here.' He said as he turned around and pointed to the southwest. A massive fort stood against a port with a ship already docked. 'Further orders will be given tomorrow. Giving you a day to settle in.' With that, he turned around and ran off to a plain, brown horse.
The man with blonde hair turned back to us, helmet tucked under his left arm. William and I both bowed to a knee. 'My Lord.' We said in unison as we bowed our heads as well.
'At ease.' He said as he saw them pull our horses from another ship. We both stood at once and looked him straight in the eye.
'What's your order my liege?' William asked.
The commander turned back towards William. 'Don't call me that. Or my lord. I'm simply your general, Jonathan.'
'Yes general.' William returned with. A month on a ship, becoming more disciplined, this had definitely benefited the group as a whole.
Jonathan shook his head, then turned to me. 'Ulfrid, I want you and William to go ahead with your units and scout the base ahead. Make sure the mercenaries aren't to turn against us.'
'Yes… Jonathan.' I said as a sailor led the horses onto dry land. William and his unit climbed on their horses, receiving only snorts and hoof trots in return.
'William, your unit scout the perimeter of the base. Ulfrid, you move into the base.'
'What're you gonna do?' I asked. 'Sir.' I quickly added afterwards.
'I'm going to give a rousing speech, and make sure none of the supplies are lost or damaged.' He turned back towards the unloading ships.
My little sister came through the crowd. She had worn a plain, grey dress, and white slippers. Her hair dark was braided and she smiled wide. Her eyes looked up at mine and asked, sweetly 'What can I do brother?' She said sweetly. I jumped upon my horse and trotted onto the heavily used dirt path.
Looking back at her, I said, 'Get on up.' She ran over and grabbed onto the side of my steed. Her other hand grabbed mine, and I pulled her up. I began to slowly trot onto the path as she clasped her hands around my chest. My men at arms quickly caught up and began walking behind me as I continued forward. Dust was sent flying through the air as William and his ten other cavalry spearmen followed after him. My twenty men-at-arms kept a decent speed. Even from the distance, I could see the immense fortress about a mile away. Four spires shot into the air from the corners. Ten foot high walls wrapped around the complex, leaving three ten foot wide gaps for troops to enter through. A central spire with ammo dumps and armories jabbed high into the air. A British flag waved in the air from atop the spire. But I didn't see anybody inside.
Within minutes, my unit had gotten with a few hundred yards. I dug my heels in and entered a full gallop into the base, my troops quickly running after me. I didn't ride my steed into battle, only for transport and as a symbol of authority. Sprinting around the entire interior, I didn't see a soul. William's unit pulled in from the south entrance. His face showed bewilderment. 'Didn't find anybody?' I asked.
'No… It's like they all just disappeared. No one inside?'
'Nope.' I answered flatly. I dismounted and helped my sister down. A door to a female barracks was marked as such ahead of us. I walked forward and opened the door. I turned to her, 'Now stay here. Alright?'
'Yes brother. What if someone comes to hurt me though?' I opened the door and walked in. Immediately on the left, there was a dagger that sat on a nightstand. I picked it up and handed it to her. 'Protect youself with this. Remember our training.' She nodded and smiled, then closed the door. Looking back, I could see General Jonathan and the rest moving towards the base. 'Let's deliver the news.'
He nodded quickly and let out his reins. His horse entered a full gallop. I sprinted towards my horse, then jumped up. Landing on the saddle, I then sat down and cracked the reins, yelling back, 'Stay here! We'll be right back!' Our horses were in their prime, leaving only a trail of dirt and dust as they dashed down the path. We both pulled to a trot as we approached Jonathan.
He looked at us both. 'Report.'
William started. 'We rounded the entire fort twice and didn't find a sign of life.'
'I searched the entire courtyard and didn't find a soul.' I said. I glanced beyond our general. Looking at the other 2,968 soldiers, I saw most of them were prepared for battle. Whatever Jonathan said had inspired them. I was impressed with his skills. Then again, he had much more experience than us. He had worked years for his position. He sat light on his steed for 36. While still young, he had a touch of wisdom now encompassed in his voice, strategy, and his style. He nodded and rode towards the base. We joined him on either side, trotting for Hermes.
Looking around, I captured the beauty of the landscape. Rolling hills covered in forestry coated the distant background. The rolling plains we marched across were teeming with deer and rabbits. As our boots thundered across the ground, they would look up and scatter. Butterflies floated through the air on light wings. A humming bird of blue and green flitted over to me and drifted close to my hand. Lifting it from the rein, I slowly turned it over. Opening my palm, the hummingbird looked into it, as if expecting a treat. I slightly lifted one finger and tapped the back of it, feeling the elegant, velvety feathers that covered the bird. It looked up at me and then flew away. As we entered the post, one of my soldiers ran over with a paper in his hands.
'What is this?' Jonathan asked.
'Upon further inspection, we found this posted to the barrack entrance. It was signed by one of the mercenaries. Jonathan grabbed it and lifted it to his face.
He began to read aloud. 'Ran low on supplies, raiding Hafleur for more. Be back before dawn. Signed Georges and Marcus. Dated, April 11, 1429.'
'That was a few days ago.' William said as he read the note to himself. 'We should check this Hafleur out from the walls.'
I turned around to the soldiers. 'Crossbowmen as well as Longbow troops, get up on the wall for defensive measures. Also, someone fetch us a spyglass.'
'Yes sir!' Someone yelled as he ran over to the pile of supplies being moved into a warehouse. The archers replied the same and made for the corner spires to climb up to the wall. The three of us cut into front of a group of crossbowmen and opened the wooden door. A spiral staircase stretched into the air seemingly forever. The three of us swiftly began skipping steps while the archers trudged with no urgency to the top.
'So what are you thinking?' Jonathan asked.
'I want to see what we're up against.'
William looked at me strangely. 'We aren't supposed to march till tomorrow.'
I looked him straight in the eyes. 'We have allies that have gone missing in a village nearby. We are definitely going to investigate that. Maybe get anyone that survived.'
'Not without my consent.' Jonathan said. 'Which I may give after we take a look at the situation from the walls.' I slowed to a halt at the door and pushed it open. From atop the wall, I could see for miles. In the hazy distance, I could see a large village in the distance. A massive windmill stood near the center, with fields of something surrounding the whole city. Several houses dotted the landscape, painting the image of a calm, homey place. The French construction was just as beautiful as the landscape that surrounded it.
A soldier pushed his way through the Crossbowmen and approached us. He pulled the spyglass from his belt and handed it to us. 'Thank you.' Jonathan said. The soldier bowed in response and quickly returned to his unit. I saw on his belt several plain, steel knives. About 5 total. A small sack was also on his belt, probably filled with more for throwing.
His armor was a light, hard leather arrangement covered in chainmail. A black cloth came over his right shoulder to signify his allegiance. Taking a closer look at the archers, the crossbows had a steel helmet with chainmail pouring out over their neck. Light cloth hid away leather with light steel plates forged onto it. A black scarf wrapped around their necks to show allegiance. All archers wore similar attire, some with no helmets, others with the same chainmail helmet.
I placed the spyglass over my left eye and closed the right. With both hands on the spyglass, I held it steady. Looking through the spyglass, I could see French soldiers surrounding the city. The four entrances into town were all blocked with wooden barricades and had Crossbowmen kneeling behind them, bow pointed into town. There appeared to be motion within the village. Our troops were caught in a siege. Several other units sat behind the barricade, waiting for the order to finish those trapped inside. 'You'll want to see this,' I said as I handed it to Jonathan. 'There's definitely some trickery down there.'
Jonathan grunted, then handed it to William. 'You're right about that.' He said, crossing his arms as he spoke.
'Shit…' William said as he brought it down. 'That's a lot of them. We can take that ribaldry out though.'
Jonathan glanced at him. Jonathan was the strategist of the primary force into France. 'We could, but a more strategic approach would yield less troop casualties. That, and they don't know we're here yet. We can use that to our advantage. Any ideas?'
I turned around and looked down upon the open field. Some soldiers were moving an empty cart. Several bales of hay were scattered around the fort. Also, some troops had found gunpowder in the armory and were moving a few barrels around. 'I think I have an idea.'
'Yes Ulfrid?' Jonathan asked.
'We could take a couple barrels of gunpowder, cover it in the hay, and have someone take it around back of the town. The could put it on the hill, light the hay ablaze, and kick down amongst the French troops. The explosion would draw them away.'
'Then we could slip in, grab the troops, and get out.' Jonathan finished.
'I was thinking we could get in and take break the siege, gaining Hafleur for ourselves.'
William looked behind himself. Turning back, he added, 'There's an old chariot down there we could use to be a distraction unit and allow our forces to pour into the village.'
'You two are learning quickly.' Jonathan said as he started for the spire. We followed right behind him. The crossbows parted like the Red Sea as we passed through. Quickly advancing down the spire, Jonathan yelled out, 'Prepare to march on Hafleur. We need to rescue our allies.'
Several sounds of affirmation echoed through the open courtyard. William headed for the old chariot. 'I want this thing spiffed up with my horse and two of by best javelin throwers. Also, get a ton of disposable spears from the armory and our supplies.' Several soldiers in the vicinity responded by sprinting off to find supplies.
I stopped the soldier on horseback with the cart and told him, 'Get this filled with two gunpowder barrels and hay on top of that. Grab a torch and then meet me at the south exit of the base. He nodded and then quickly moved the cart to the armory. I turned back around and made my way to the south exit. Within seconds, William, who sat on the bench of an old chariot cart, stopped next to me. The readied fire cart came from behind. I grabbed the torch and traded his horse for mine. I hooked it in, then got onto my saddle. Jonathan walked between us.
'I will lead all three of our units, as well as a few hundred troops in to back up the attack.'
They both looked at me. 'The signal to march will be the explosion. William will dash by, attracting their attention away, then you'll march.'
'Sounds like a good plan.' William said. Jonathan nodded in agreement. I then began a quick gallop downhill towards the village. The cart rocked around and the wind threatened to blow the flames into the cart. A caught a few strange glances from French soldiers. But they dismissed me as a farmer or some sort of messenger. Making my way around to the south side, I then stopped the hill that overlooked the south entrance to the village.
I unhooked the horse and pushed the cart to the edge. I threw the torch into the pile of hay. With one mighty push, the cart was sailing down the hill. Several French troops turned and stared in bewilderment at the unmanned, flaming cart rolling straight for them. It ran over several of the troops and crashed into the barricade. The hay finished burning, and the gunpowder caught. In a loud bang, Several red hot, armored corpse were sailing through the air. The barricade burst wide open. Fire rolled into the sky as the barricade continued burning. Spooked horses began running randomly. A few troops were tossed from their steed and into the splinters and fire. Others charged straight for a pasture, throwing their riders off as they crashed into the fence.
I mounted my steed and cracked the reins. It reared back and turned away. At a full gallop. I fled the scene as French soldiers investigated from the other barricades. Passing the north entrance, I saw William sprinting downhill with his two riders throwing spears into the crowd. One was fitted with a small flame and a white sac. It was tossed past the soldiers and into the barricade. The small explosion blew a hole in the structure wide enough for three chariots.
His cavalry unit quickly sped after him while Jonathan led the rest downhill. I stood up on the saddle as it passed between my unit and a light axe unit behind me. Jonathan's troops were all dressed like him, but his armor was more vividly colored than theirs. My soldiers had layered steel armor with a black X on their chest, from their left shoulder to right leg and right shoulder to left leg. The light axe men behind them, in a group of 30, wore a black shirt with steel plates stitched in on the inside. Brown pants were built in a similar format. They carried several hatchets, ready to throw if necessary. I leapt into the air as the horse passed between them. Landing with a thud, I told my unit, 'Let's move.' Before standing, I gripped both blades. Jumping up within an instant, the two blades also flew straight out. I spun them once, then moved into position. The formation, halfway there, broke into two columns, Jonathan leading one, me leading the other.
Our double unit collided with the bewildered French forces. Their thinned numbers stood no match. A spear unit tried to attack our unit, but hatchets flew from overhead, stopping them in their tracks. The soldier about to stab me looked up to catch a hatchet between his eyes. It dug a few inches deep before whipping his head back. His body twisted around and landed on his stomach. Stunned, the unit started to pull back. Instead, I ran ahead the group engaging them.
I jumped up and pushed my left sword forward. It stabbed a man in the gut. Doubling over, another jabbed from the side. My other sword slapped the spear away. Digging the first out of the corpse, it fell to the ground as I swung to the right. The sword caught the man in the side, and he dropped. A bolt flew by my head. I turned to the archer, who immediately turned pale. With a flick, the blood was cleaned from the sword. He desperately tried to reload as I slammed the ruby into his jaw. He flew a few feet back, impaling himself on the spiked barricade, which fell over. The overran barricade was swiftly passed by our troops. The spearmen were retreating. We pushed our way into the city, where William stood on the chariot, waiting.
A man carrying a short bow stepped forward. He looked only a year or two my senior. His hair was short and brown. Light steel armor covered him. He bore no sign of allegiance. Then, I noticed a red scarf that wrapped over his right shoulder and held his quiver. 'So you would be the reinforcements?'
'Why would you help us?' Another man said as he stepped forward. He carried a spear with heavy armor. The armor was very limiting to his motion, but would serve him well defensively. A single red cloth wrapped over his head, hiding most of his brown hair. They both had similar physical attributes. Both had brown hair and eyes, cream colored skin, and facial shape. They were of similar height, the spearmen slightly taller. He was also much bulkier. The archer was small and thin. They looked related, almost as brothers.
'We were requested by the King of Britain, so here we are.' Jonathan answered.
I took a few steps forward. "We don't leave our own behind to die. Anglo-Saxon, British, or mercenary, it doesn't matter. We fight under the same flag." The small one pulled back, as if the idea of being saved by the people that hired him disgusted him. The larger one took a step forward and lowered to one knee.
'Thank you sir.' He said as he also bowed. Motioning a hand to the archer, he said. "We are brothers. My name is Marcus and his is George.' Jonathan lowered his hand to the Marcus' shoulder. He looked up at our commander. Jonathan smiled down at him and pulled him up by his shoulder.
'Let's drive the French out of here and we can celebrate in the tavern.' Jonathan said. Marcus and George both nodded in agreement. As the French realized what had happened, the barricades fell, and they moved in to take us out. At least a hundred soldiers advanced at once into Hafleur. The dirt on the streets were kicked into the air. I led my unit forward as William's cavalry rushed past led by the chariot. I ran among the swords and axes and spears that flashed in the sunlight.
One man with a two handed axe swung at me, and I rolled under it. Two more came down. I blocked both with my swords and in a flash was standing tall. With both my swords out wide, I brought them both in at lightning speed to make an X on the soldier. His steel gave way and his arms fell limp. He dropped to his knees, and one sword split his nose down the center. My left sword swung out and swept the legs out of one axe and he dropped to the ground. The right stabbed down into his chest and the other spun around my back to an axe. I rotated my body around and slashed the arm holding the axe from his body. The man fainted and bled out on the grass.
A halberd narrowly missed my neck as I bent backwards. I rose back forward and caught the halberd in mid swing. I twirled to my right and brought out both blades. The halberd stuck tightly into the ground. Then I took one step forward and brought both blades up. They crossed and pierced the soldier's armor between the ribs. I lifted the corpse over me, blood dripping down onto my armor. French stared on in fear. I slashed both blades out to their proper side. The body twirled in the air, then landed on a thief that tried to stab me. As he looked up, the halberd came down on his head, killing him instantly. A female soldier ran at me with a rapier. I caught the blade and twirled her around. With her back turned, both blades flew from the right at the back of her neck. She flopped to the ground dead, blood gushing like a river.
Several with sword and shield surrounded me. I parried the first and stabbed with the other sword. Then I spun around and stuck the sword in another's throat. A third slammed his shield into my chest. I clung onto it as he ran forward. My left sword entered horizontally into his eyes, and he dropped. I kicked the shield with full force, smashing the mouth of a fourth. As he stumbled back, a sword lopped his leg off below the knee. A fifth charged from behind. My swords entered his shoulders and I tossed him over me. Only French and a few British corpses littered the field. Not a single one of my men was dead.
The few remaining French troops were fleeing, chased by arrows and horses. Hafleur was ours. Cheers of victory rose into the bright, sunlit sky, and didn't fall into late in the night. Brits, Mercs, and Romans were all gathered around a great fire that burned in the heart of town. French weapons were ablaze, signifying that soon, they would be too. French people and plague doctors were cleaning the streets while Brits cleaned out the tavern's rum collection. Mercenaries sat around the fire, telling stories and rumors.
I approached Marc and George, who were sitting in the back of the chariot. I stepped onto the driver's bench, and hung my legs into the back. "Got any whimsical tales, or news going around?"
George looked up at me. "What's it to you?" He asked rudely.
Marc silenced his brother. After lowering his cup, he spoke. "Forgive my brother. He's a mad drunk. If it's rumors you're interested in, there is talk of a great strategist coming over for the British side."
"What's so special about him?" I asked.
"He just came home from a trip to Japan in an attempt to open trade with them. His name is…" Ulrich stopped in his tracks.
William looked up at him. "What's wrong, is it scratched out?"
Ulrich shook his head.
"Then what's wrong?" William asked. Ulrich only pointed to the page in disbelief. William walked over, then read the word he pointed at. "His name is… Jeremiah Bradford. So?"
"Do you know how close that is to Jeremy Belpois?"
"Yeah, but it's not." William said. "Just finish the entry already."
Ulrich cleared his throat, then continued. "At that time, a Prussian soldier on border patrol approached. Attacks in the night were rare.
The soldier ran up and bowed to a knee. 'Speak man.' I said to him.
'Sir. Horse hooves approach from the south.'
'Then stop him immediately.' I said. The soldier bowed, but before he could return to his post, horse hooves echoed through the air. Then he entered the torchlight. A rider in purple dyed cloaks and armor approached over the hill. On one hip sat a light crossbow, the other had some bolts. Strung along his back was a great bow with respective arrows. A short bow and arrows were strapped along the saddle of his black stallion. A purple dyed saddle sat with him. Purple was a color of riches. It is a rare dye, very expensive. Whoever this was had a lot of gold to afford all of that.
A post was strapped to the back of the saddle, waving the Italian flag through the air. His horse slowed to a trot as William approached. A hood covered his face. He dropped from his steed and approached the fire. George stood up in a flash. "What are you doing here?" He asked loudly. Marc did nothing but give the man a cold glare.
Without looking, he said, "Nothing of your concern." He whipped around, back to the fire. Jonathan walked past the mercenaries and faced the hooded figure.
"I am the leader of this regiment. If you have anything to say, then say it to me. Who are you?" The figure grabbed his hood and whipped it back. Short messy blonde hair was exposed with blue eyes. He wasn't very tall, and appeared kind of scrawny.
"I'm the personal hired bodyguard of Jeremiah for when he arrives. My first order is to aid you in creating a safe entry point."
"That doesn't answer my question." Jonathan said, slowly reaching for his mace.
The figure lifted a hand up. "That is unnecessary. My name is Odici Dellrobi. The richest mercenary to step into France." Ulrich dropped the book into his lap. William tried not to choke on air.
