Chapter 8
A half day later Alistair patted his horse's neck as she whinnied softly. He looked down the shallow rock face and through the trees to the stone bridge, barricaded with spike walls. Twenty yards behind the deadly barricade sat the confirmation that Arol meant to go to war over something as petty as elven education in the form of two companies of what looked to be Arol's men in their red armor with the black crest of their city emblazoned on their hauberks. Behind each of the twenty-five man units was a knight on horseback.
The knights were pacing back and forth on horseback as the infantry in front took up positions behind their shields. Alistair's scouts had said they found sign from two moderately well trained scouts and their readiness was proof that their approach had been spotted.
Fergus leaned over, the remnants of the afternoon rain still matting down his auburn hair, making it a reddish black that reminded Alistair of Arol. How could he be so ignorant?! So foolish as to try and tear us apart over something as petty as elven education and menial business rights…and freedom of movement for the Dalish…maybe he had overreached?
"Your Majesty?"
Alistair realized that was the second attempt and he snapped out of it. "Yes Fergus"
"What is your order my king?"
Alistair nodded an affirmative and turned in his saddle to Moronir, "General, bring up the archers".
The big man nodded and whipped his horse around between trees to bring up the archers personally. Alistair turned back to Fergus, "for some reason Teryn your men have better armor than mine".
Fergus offered a devious smile, "Highever is a fine city Your Majesty".
"Yes…so I hear. Well then you have the honor of ordering the quickest and toughest of your fine men to take down that spear wall while my archers keep Arol's men occupied.
"On your order my king" he said with a clasped hand over his chest armor before peeling away to gather his special unit.
A few minutes later he had relayed his orders to Captain Lyell of the archer regiment, Moronir and his cavalry and Fergus was again next to him, his group of eight soldiers down on a knee and awaiting the signal to literally run for their lives.
Alistair spared another look to his adversaries. One knight with a head of blond hair that Alistair could see from even this distance, appeared to be looking right at them. But Alistair knew he was only straining to see through the trees. Some of the infantry soldiers in front of him appeared to be chatting now while still holding their shields in front of them, and at that Alistair made a relaxed cutting motion through the air.
"Archers!" the large general called loud enough that Alistair felt his ear tingle.
At the call the two lines of Denerim archers marched out of the tree line, stabbing a quiver full of arrows into the ground in front of them. Immediately the Rainsfere knights began barking orders to their men who formed a shield wall and began inching forward. The two knights dismounted their steeds and gave them a slap to send them running back over the hill towards town. A pretty clever warning system Alistair though. So these two were simply infantry captains given a horse for this mission. He knew then as the first volley of arrows arched into the air that their mission was not to turn back the king, but to give their lives giving him the bloodiest nose they could before the king reached town.
As the first volley of arrows rained down on the wooden shield wall, Alistair heard the first cries of injured men as one or two of the dealy missiles managed to slip through the chinks.
Fergus looked at his men poised to leap into action and said "now".
With that the eight fully armored knights dashed out of the woods and into the open plain, never slowing down over the hundred yard dash to the bridge.
One of Arol's knights spotted the barricade crew and ducked out from under his shield to bark an order. As he did the first line of the shield wall came out and stood in a full run, spears in hand.
"Archers!"
Captain Lyell looked at him with understanding and immediately arrows began falling on the spearmen. Most got their shields up in time, but by the time they had to stop to block the second volley almost immediately after the first, Highever's men had cut the straps holding the spear wall in place.
"Cavalry on me!" Alistair yelled, and within moments fifty warhorses were charging across the field as their riders pointed their longswords at the now scrambling foe.
The Battle of Harper's Bridge was over just minutes after Alistair's horse hit the hard stone of the bridge. Many of Arol's men were cut down before they were able to reestablish their shield wall, many more were simply knocked into the running river beneath…the rest surrendered quickly.
An hour after the skirmish the buildings that formed the perimeter of the large town came into view…as well as the combined armies of Rainsfere and White River. They had taken up position across the road and field that led to town. Alistair could just make at Arol's palace in the background, rising over the town.
Alistair had assumed that he would have to enter the palace to arrest Arol and Reginalda, but to his surprise they were commanding their armies, obvious in their resplendent armor and fur. So, true believers then he thought.
The armies of Ferelden met each other under a cloudless sky. For minutes the only sounds were the banners of Denerim, Highever, Rainsfere, and White River flapping in the stiff breeze, as the actual river raged to its endpoint in the distance.
"You disgrace that armor!" Arol yelled from behind his silverite helm. Next to him he could see Reginalda spit as their armies roared.
"I may not have had the chance to know my brother Arol" Alistair called back across the gap. "But I know he was not a coward".
"A coward?!" Reginalda.
"Yes, a coward Bann Reginalda, like yourself. Cowards fear the unknown so they cling to what's comfortable. Had my brother lived through the Blight he would not fear the repercussions of rewarding all the Fereldans who fought. Just as I do not fear you". At that, the armies of Denerim and Highever let loose their own howls of approval.
Arol began ordering his archers to ready but Alistair continued unabated. But this time focusing on the common soldier. "Look at yourselves! Are your lives so fruitless that you would throw them away to war so soon after a war that nearly ended us? Are you so fearful of change that you would kill to stop it? Make no mistake your grievance with the elves and me is not the Chant, or the Maker! For his chosen has sanctioned my decree. No it is not but tradition that binds you so stringently to reactionary violence. And yes even oppression can become tradition. I hear your voices. Do not think they are whispers to me, for I was you just two and a half years ago. You say but no one in Thedas has made the elves countrymen, well I say since when have Fereldans ever given more than a hound's shit for what the other nations of Thedas do!?"
His men laughed. He could not tell if he reached any of the rebels, but the time for talk was over as they were now in range. Alistair waved for his archers.
"Shields!" he could hear Arol call, and shields went up just as the first volley of burning arrows rained down on the rebels.
After shielding themselves from the first return volley, the king turned to give the order to Moronir to begin their flanking maneuver but he was not there. He turned back to see the gap closing when he heard Fergus yell, "Alistair!" nearly in his ear, before he was thrown from his horse.
He rolled on the ground trying to free his sword as some of the men in his back line began to turn around to see the cause of the commotion. Alistair finally got free enough to roll over his attacker only to find…Fergus. As soon as the recognition dawned on his he saw the arrow poking out from under his shoulder plate.
"Fergus!?" he almost yelled grabbing the man's face.
"Moronir my king…is a" his danger sense came alive as he looked up to see the giant general thrusting down on him. He knocked the blade away at the last moment and at the same time threw a handful of dirt and grass in the face of his attacker.
By the time Moronir rubbed the last of the debris from his vision Alistair had stood and held his sword in front of him. "General what are you doing!?" he asked out of instinct even though he knew the answer before the enraged human yelled "heretic!"
The feeling behind him had changed and he spared a glance to see his own men turning on each other; infantry against infantry, knight against knight, even the regiment of archers were fighting bow to bow…in the distance he heard the enthused voice of Bann Arol yell "charge!"