Part 11: Campaign Chapter 4.

A/N: The next couple of chapters will switch back and forth between what's happening at the present time and what happened during Alex's campaign to unite Rivellon. The chapters taking place in the past will have "Campaign" in the title.

-oOoOo-

"Hail! Dragon Knight!" Five hundred men and women shouted from bended knee. Not all of them were from Deodatus Castle, though Alexander could pick out more than a few familiar faces.

"Stand up!" he shouted back. "I run a very different military than what you're used to. There are going to be a lot of changes. Not all of which I'll have the time or inclination to explain. If you feel that you like things the way they are and don't like change, now is your chance to leave. Those who stay are going to be changing Rivellon. But as they say, 'change starts from within'." He watched as a few men looked skeptical and made a note of those as potential troublemakers later, but no one left. He looked down at the disorganized mess below him. "Right. The first thing I'm going to teach you is called 'form ranks'."

After that, he taught them how to stand at attention, salute, and march in file. Then it was time to dismiss to barracks. Alexander called together all his officers. "Five hundred men. Call it two companies, which gives us the start of a battalion. Which should be under the command of a Lieutenant Colonel if I remember correctly. Congratulations, Lieutenant Colonel Gawain."

"Me, sir?" Gawain sputtered.

"Unless you're going to have trouble taking orders from me? I know you, you know me. Makes things easier, even if I am passing someone else over for promotion." Alex looked at the man who was glaring daggers at Gawain. "Do we have a problem here? Name and rank."

"Captain Dwight Hasset," the man said coming to attention the way he'd been taught just that day. "And no. No problem."

"You've been serving longer than Gawain, I take it, Hasset?"

"Yes, sir," the man confirmed.

"Everyone listen up. This is going to be a very different army than you are used to. Promotions are not solely based on time served." Alex looked at Hasset. "Though that does factor in. There is also going to be a much more rigid chain of command with certain lieutenants outranking other lieutenants. And since this battalion has two companies, we'll be needing two majors to command each of them. I will be observing you over the next few weeks and posting a list of the new ranks shortly.

"I'm going to be teaching all of you a very new way—to you, at least—of fighting a war and I'm going to need your help to teach it to the men. There are a lot of new things to teach everyone and less time to do it in. Dismissed." Alexander finished. "Colonel Gawain, if you would stay."

-oOoOo-

The next day they had a mock battle between the two companies they had set up. Alexander had to suppress a groan at what passed for tactics. Two lines of armored men charged each other until they crashed in a great mob of men and metal.

Luckily, Alex had a plan. He and Gawain had trained together that night. They had found some men still up and had taken them to train with them. Alex tried his best to teach them cooperation. He tried showing them how he and Gawain working together were able to defeat a larger force, but it wasn't until all of them and Gawain had taken him on that they really got it. Sort of. Gawain still had to bellow, "Stay together!" much too often for Alex's taste, but an army of just seven was a lot harder to defeat than seven soldiers fighting individually, even if he was still holding back.

The next morning came the demonstration. The seven that Gawain and Alex had trained vs fifteen randomly selected from the winning company of yesterday's bout. The seven won quite convincingly.

"That! Is exactly what I'm going to teach all of you," Alexander informed his army. "It's why lining up in order and marching together is important. You—all of you—are about to become part of something much bigger than yourselves. And together, we're going to unite Rivellon into one land as well!"

-oOoOo-

Alexander trained his officers each morning and they, in turn, trained the soldiers. While they were doing that, Alex was free to take in the lay of the land. The stronghold he'd been given had its own blacksmith and farrier. It also had enough farms paying taxes to it to support a small company. Except that he now had two over-strength companies. He also didn't have any sort of sanitation or a doctor. When a man was injured, a buddy bandaged him up. If he was sick, he stayed in his tent until he got better or died. Alexander had been shocked to learn that they had lost four men to disease just in the time he'd been training as a dragon. He co-opted training the next day for the men to dig latrines. Fighting disease would be a much tougher battle than most opponents, he knew, if what little he learned from history class was true.

He also sent word for doctors in the area, or even medical students. Actually, he was hoping for more medical students as there would be less to untrain. Then he sent word that they were buying food at his stronghold and also that they were looking for recruits and even mercenaries. Fortunately, the Patriarch had left him plenty of money for all of this.

-oOoOo-

TWO MONTHS LATER

Alexander was not happy. He had planned on having at least another month to train his men and his mercenaries. The men he'd been given were primarily infantry with a few archers and mages thrown in. He'd had to hire mercenary archers and cavalry to round out his army, but he had the beginnings of his own archer and cavalry units currently training with the mercenaries. Unfortunately, Alex knew less about those things, so he could only really teach them about timing—how a shower of arrows or a charge of horses at the right time could turn the tide of a battle.

Unfortunately, all this military build-up did not go unnoticed. His neighbor, Count Farlow, took offense and decided to attack and raid the farms in Alex's land.

So now, Alexander's army—now numbering almost 1,000 strong—faced off against an army of almost 5,000 across rolling farmland.

"Archers!" Alexander yelled and horns sounded the call for archers to ready. "Loose arrows!" A different blast sounded and the sky was filled with 500 pointy bits of wood and metal.

Alex was sitting on a step ladder, observing the battle from behind the lines. He was on a ladder primarily because he needed to see the battle and it was discovered that no horse (the traditional officer mount) would bear him. In fact, no horse wanted to be near him. Zandalor had surmised that it was the smell of the dragon that disturbed them. The wizard hadn't been aware of that fact, but he also had never heard of a Dragon Knight wanting to ride a horse before. Alexander only wanted to for a short while in any case. They would shortly be unveiling the Dragon Knight to the world and then he could roam the land freely in dragon form.

From his position on his ladder, Alex could see the first wave of Farlow's troops beginning to advance. They took two more volleys of arrows before Alex called out, "Infantry!" A new horn sounded. Most of the archers stopped firing and took up their melee weapons instead. The hundred or so dedicated archers got off another volley right before the two groups collided. The opposing group was wild and undisciplined while Alex's group waited patiently for openings to stab—not forwards—but to the sides, at the man their neighbors were holding at bay. Soon enough, the numbers of the attackers dwindled until they were less than the attacked and they broke.

Already though, another wave was approaching.

"One cavalry charge, then retreat. After that, get the next rank forward. Make sure to get our wounded out of there," Alexander ordered. The first rank made their way to the rear, helping along a couple of men who'd taken wounds to the face or legs, but he saw no fatalities so far. In front of his lines, a small pile of bodies stretched out. Many were still moving, but were about to be trampled on by their comrades. Still, there was nothing to be done right now. Alex watched as the archers and the cavalry whittled down the numbers of the attacking force.

Again the attackers broke, though more reached the line this time. It necessitated another line change. As Alex noticed his men tiring, he called out, "Next rank!" A whistle sounded this time. As one, the next rank surged forward and allowed the first rank to rest at the rear of the lines and remove their wounded, and this time, their dead. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex was vaguely aware of his doctors treating the wounded on the grass nearby. He made a note to talk to them about that later. He wanted them further back and out of range of enemy archers. Luckily, Count Farlow had left his meager supply of archers back at his castle, but not all enemies would be so overconfident.

Finally, the second wave broke, but Count Farlow was already ordering everything he had left forward, which was probably 2,500 men.

"Next rank!" Alex called out but didn't bother to watch the action. "Cavalry. Repeated attack and retreats! Keep them on their toes!" He saw that his archers were already out of arrows and made a mental note to buy more arrows before the next battle. As a general, he found himself dealing with logistics more than anything. He often felt like a glorified desk jockey. Except for just now. "Wizards! Fireballs!" He'd been saving them for last. Gawain's men had included more than a few men capable of launching two, maybe three fireballs over the course of a battle.

The front of Farlow's line exploded into flame. Once the next line had made it over the still burning bodies of their comrades, another line of fire hit them. After that, they were wavering and then the cavalry hit. They tried to fight back, but the horsemen just ran away. As they were watching them run, a few more fireballs hit. That was enough. Farlow was one of the first to turn tail.

"Sound Cavalry Retreat," Alex ordered and watched as the cavalry that had been about to slaughter Farlow's men turned back. Mercenaries who disobeyed orders didn't get paid, after all.

"You had them, sir," Colonel Gawain pointed out. "You could have slaughtered them."

"True, but I'm about to take Farlow's lands as my own and I'm going to try to recruit most of his men. Cutting down survivors means that we can't hire them later," Alex announced. "Get our wounded and theirs to the hospital. And smack any doctors who left the safety of the hospital to join us out here while you're at it. Then break camp. We're heading for Farlow's castle."

-oOoOo-

They made camp within sight of Farlow's castle but out of range of his catapults. Which also meant that his own catapults were out of range, but that was okay with Alex; he wanted to take the castle whole anyway and he had a plan.

He, Zandalor, and Colonel Gawain walked towards the castle.

"I wish we could ride horses," Gawain grumbled.

"Me too," Alexander agreed. "But it would look a bit silly if you two rode while I walked."

When they got close enough, the gates of the castle opened and 5 riders emerged. Alexander's party stopped walking and waited for them to come to them.

"Alexander of Rivellon. You have a strange name considering we're all from Rivellon. Anyway, I knew you were planning on attacking me. And now I am proved right when you show up on my doorstep," Count Farlow said.

"You attacked us, remember?"

"I did no such thing, I was merely collecting back taxes-"

"Shut up," Alex cut him off. "These are the terms: you have until sunset tomorrow to surrender. Your men will be given full quarter and offered the chance to join my army should they wish. Your lands and possessions will be added to Rivellon." Alex had decided to call his small fiefdom 'Rivellon' as it would eventually encompass the whole of Rivellon.

Farlow snorted. "Strong words for one who has not even tried to encircle my castle. I doubt you even have enough men to lay siege."

"I neither need nor want to," Alex went on. "If by sundown tomorrow, you have not surrendered, then we will assault your castle and kill you. Your general...?" he looked at the man in question.

"General Gregory," the man supplied.

"General Gregory will then be offered the chance to surrender your forces," Alexander finished.

Count Farlow was almost apoplectic by the end. "How dare you! This castle has stood for three generations!"

"When your grandfather took it from the old ruler, as I understand. So, it can be done. And it will be done by us, again. I just want to do it without killing any more of your men. After all, soon they'll be my men."

"Plan your pitiful assault," Farlow wheeled his horse roughly around. "I'll see you in hell."

-oOoOo-

Camp was much more orderly than it had been just a few months ago. First of all, latrines were dug well away and downhill from camp, which cut down on sickness. Rows and columns of orderly tents were laid out with cooking fires regularly spaced – which was partly about efficient space usage and partly psychologically reinforcing cohesion within the army. Finally, all the rows of tents and fires pointed right at the castle, just as he had ordered.

For now, it was time to rest and relax after a long day of battle.

-oOoOo-

Alexander was almost disappointed the next day. He'd been expecting a sortie to be sent out, but nothing happened. Near sunset he readied himself for takeoff out of sight of the castle or most of his men. "If they attack while I'm gone, extinguish the middle line of fires. If they surrender, extinguish all but the middle line," he ordered. Orders given, he transformed, took off, and headed low and fast for the coast, where he could gain altitude without anyone seeing.

Then, once he was high enough, he turned back inland. It was too dark to see much below him any more, but the lights burning in houses and cities let him know the lay of the land. He found his encampment with its rows of orderly fires still burning. He followed where they were pointing to and could see a few torches burning around the castle.

Back-winging to kill his momentum, he went ahead and transformed into a human, enjoying the sensation of free-fall, even if he lacked a parachute. He shifted his body to adjust where he'd be landing. He wanted packed earth or stone. His legs could handle the force of his body hitting at terminal velocity, but most roofs could not, and breaking through into an unknown room was not on his list of things to do. Dropping through an armory roof onto dozens of sharp spear points could really ruin your day.

He landed in the castle courtyard. All of the sentries were looking the other way, but not for long. Alexander's landing was nowhere near silent. A human body hitting the earth at velocity, even if he didn't turn to paste, still makes quite a loud 'smacking' sound. So, Alex had infiltrated the castle successfully. Unfortunately, he now had the attention of all the sentries and had probably woken most of Farlow's army from their slumber.

Alex took stock of his surroundings for just a moment before a particularly alert, or perhaps just trigger-happy, archer sent an arrow his way. In the darkness, he missed by a good deal, but it did launch everyone else into action. The other archers on the wall started firing at where Alexander had landed and he got a move on. He dashed to the door he knew would lead to Farlow's quarters, hearing more than one arrow tink against his helmet and backplate. Once past the door, he closed and barred it, hearing more arrows thunk into the wooden door.

He turned to find three men who looked like they just got out of bed and grabbed spears. In close quarters like this though, Alexander was simply too much for them with his new powers. He gave them all cuts he hoped would be non-fatal, but would keep them from following him, and ran off to find the leader of this mess.

By the time he reached the top of the stairs, the soldiers he was facing were both armed and armored. It was almost like Count Farlow knew he was coming, he thought as he smiled at his own joke. In front of Farlow's door, were two excellent soldiers he was forced to kill. They were loyal to a fault anyways, Alex told himself.

Inside, Farlow cowered. "Wait!" he cried. "We can negotiate!"

Alexander just stabbed him through his nightgown. "We already did," he said as the other man died. Soldiers entered the room behind him then. "Farlow is dead. Bring me General Gregory so that we can negotiate the terms of your surrender," he called.

The fact that he had cut his way up here and dispatched their lord clearly gave them pause. No one attacked. Footsteps retreated down the hall while Alex cleaned his blade on the bed linen and more footsteps made their way back. Soldiers made way for their General. General Gregory entered, the right side of his face was a mess of bandages, clearly he and Alex had met that night already, though Alex didn't remember it.

"Sorry about that, General. I never noticed I was fighting you," Alex apologized.

"I figured as much. You are... an incredible fighter. We sorely underestimated you," Gregory replied.

"It wouldn't have helped—just increased the body count. I wouldn't have been able to hold back as much if there had been more men ready," Alexander offered.

Gregory was taken aback for a moment at the thought that what he had seen was the young man holding back. He shuddered to think what he was truly capable of. He walked forward and fell to his knees. "I am here to offer you our unconditional surrender," he held out his sword.

"Very well. I accept. Please have your men lay down their arms." Alex sheathed his sword and accepted the one offered to him.

Gregory raised a hand and lowered it, and the men laid their weapons on the ground. "You will wish to collect the arms?"

Instead, Alex handed the man back his sword before helping him to his feet. "No, too much of a waste of time. Just put them back where they would be if you weren't under attack—since the attack is now over. I'm hoping that most of the men will be willing to swear an oath to me. All that do will be given their weapons back, but that can wait. For now, we likely have a number of wounded men to attend to. I would like you to have three fire arrows fired from the front gate and the gate opened. That will be a sign for the braver of my medics to approach and help treat your wounded."

"Sergeant McHale!" Gregory bellowed.

"Sir!" the Sergeant snapped to attention.

"Did you hear that order from our new lord?"

"Yessir!"

"See to it, Sergeant. Three fire arrows and open the gate," the General ordered.

Alexander pulled out his medkit. "And you, lay down on the bed. I want to get a look at that wound." When he'd arrived, Xander's first aid knowledge had already been pretty good. He'd treated a lot of cuts and scrapes and even done some stitching over the years. Which put him above some of the so-called doctors around. He could have healed him magically, of course, but they were keeping those abilities secret as an ace up his sleeve for some future emergency.

General Gregory was shocked that he new lord would treat his wounds himself, but complied fairly quickly. He didn't flinch at all when the antiseptic or the stitches were applied; however, he insisted on going against doctor's orders and seeing to his men once he was back in one piece.