Chapter III
Storms
from the Sides
Fernadoes lied on the ground in a
small groove, holding down his horse and making sure his men didn't make a
sound. Half a day ago, some men with horses had attacked them. The rain had
damped any sound of incoming enemies, and no one had noticed them before it was
too late. Fernadoes felt lucky to have saved half his forces, although he was
totally outnumbered now. He didn't even see any chance of surprising them, what
little he could see of them, they all looked ready for any kind of attack.
Right then he noticed that Helnon
had crawled up to him, and even more surprised as Helnon whispered instead of
his usual shouting "Sir, what do we do now? I don't think we can hide here
forever, although I don't believe the rain will stop anytime soon".
Fernadoes replied in the same voice
"We tried outrunning them for almost half a day, right after they attacked us.
Anyway, it will be dark soon, and with both the rain to remove our sounds, and
the night to make us invisible, we will just walk away. Then we run to Endearo
and report what has happened here. Simple and effective".
High-Lord Sunamon sat upon his
horse, in the absolute front of his men. He had heard that this improved
morale, although he supposed the damn rain washed away any morale-help he might
give. Damn this rain, damn these enemies, damn these light forsaken rainstorms,
he muttered about.
Right then he noticed someone
picking on his shoulder: "Milord, the scouts you sent out have returned with
disturbing news. There seems to be an army almost the size of your moving this
way from the northeast. The scouts couldn't tell if they were friends or not,
and they weren't anxious to get close enough to ask" the man reported to him.
Hmm, enemies here, Sunamon pondered.
Surely they didn't know he was here, or did they. Well, sometimes you just got
lucky, that man during the war of the Dragon Reborn, what was his name again,
Cauttion or something like that, he was surely lucky. Too lucky for some even.
He was a ta'veren even, or so he Sunamon recalled. Anyway, luck was important,
this was an event too good to be true.
"Tell my generals that I wish to
meet them, now!" and with a little scent of anger in his voice, he managed to
get the man running, quite, quite fast.
A few minutes later, three men came
up to him, with worried looks on their faces. Sunamon smiled a bit while
looking at Jariel. The man had always insisted on wearing full plate armour,
now it seemed like he had gotten his armour filled with cold rainwater. Sunamon
could do nothing but smile.
As soon as the generals had rounded
up around him, Sunamon spoke out "There is an enemy army to the northwest. I
want you to make a plan to defeat them. Ask the scouts about their exact
location. Move out." And with those words, the generals backed off in unison.
Sunamon though was happy that he had come to realize that the truth wasn't
important, just what was perceived as the truth. He could let his generals do all
the work, and then claim to be a great leader and ruler, and his battles would
prove him right, never mind what his generals might say. Who would the
commoners and lord believe anyway? I High-Lord who brought justice and peace to
the land, or some generals whose name few had ever heard.
Retin Chialin rested in a tent at
one of the several small camps that held what was once the main army of the
loyal forces. He had tried to escape, to run back to his farm, his wife. But
the wheel didn't will it, it seemed to him. Some horsemen had found him, and
after trying to resist, he was knocked out by a pike of some sorts, and the
next thing he knew was the he woke up in a tent at a camp somewhere. Several
others had tried to run away too, it seemed like. He hoped some of them had
succeeded.
Just as he was about to try to
sleep, he received a kick in his side. "Wake up you worthless commoner. You
will report with the rest of the group at the main square, NOW!", and with the
last shout, Retin received another kick in his ribs.
"Oh well, I guess I don't have much
of a choice, do I? Rest here and get kicked to pieces, or stand up there and
probably get kicked anyway for being late." Retin though out loud, and quickly
skipped out of the tent, noticing that the main square was almost full already.
He tried to sneak into the group without being noticed as being late, and
seemingly succeeded.
Just as the last entered the group,
a man at a small podium before the group spoke up. "Almost all of you fled
after the battle of the dead horse-mans hill. You will learn to obey the army
once again. Any orders you receive will be completed at once. The man what
finishes last, isn't working hard enough, and will be flogged publicly." and at
those words, two soldiers picked up the man who had joined the group last, and
started moving him towards some poles in the ground. "You will always look at
me when I am talking to you. Now, where was I, oh yes. Everybody fights to the
end, or nobody in the group eats for two days. If anyone in any group
complains, then the punishment will be that the entire group will run around
the camp twenty times. Now, am I understood?" he finished with. A large "Yes
Sir" came from the entire camp at once, and Retin was quite surprised to
finding the words come out of his mouth as well.
What in the light have I been taken
into, I must run, he quickly though, but as he looked up at the man who had
come to the formation, he quickly changed his mind about that.
Ricao was lying down in someone's
tent at the main camp. After the victory over the loyalist army, there had been
feasting for three full days, and from what he had heard, some five-thousand
commoners from the loyalists had come to party with them, and stayed. Of
course, in his condition, after three days of drinking, the last thing he
wanted to think about was the army.
"Oh light. I swear that the Dark One
tainted alcohol, giving it the hangover effect. The Lord Dragon should have
cleaned that too while he was alive. They say he could do anything", so voice
at the other side of the small tent said to Ricao. Ricao had his eyes closed,
but assumed from the sound of it that the man had turned to his side, probably
facing him.
"I don't think anyone would have
dared ask the Dragon Reborn to do something. Anyways, I'm too tired to talk, so
please." Ricao replied slowly. He had been drinking way too much. At least he
was lucky in that no enemies had tried to attack them he figured. He also
shuddered on when he though of what he had heard of the Dragon Reborn's doings.
After a minute or two of silence,
Ricao heard that someone walked in trough the tent-flap. He shuddily said
"Please go away, there is no room in this tent".
A sharp and angry voice shouted up
"Solder, you will address my as sir. Within two hours, everyone will assembly
at the centre of the camp. If someone doesn't come, we will consider him a
deserter, and kill on sight. You got me, solder!" and with those sounds, the
man departed from the tent.
As Ricao was thinking to himself how
stupid he was, the other man said to him "I suppose they mean to divide us into
groups, make sure that everyone is back in their original groups. You know,
with everyone scattered around as we are now, this army is of no use. My uncle
fought in the Legion of the Dragon, you know. Learned allot about military
tactics, and told me all about it when I was young. Stupid me to wish I would
fight in an army someday too. Stupid, stupid stupid…" and Ricao tried to get
some small sleep while the man still complained about something.
About an hour later, Ricao stumbled
out of the tent Not wanting to be late, he though. There, he later got reunited
with his old group, and learned that their orders were to act as a small
flanking unit, twenty miles north of the main army.
Well, there it is, the city of
Endearo, High Lord Selorna said while overlooking the city. For a week they had
marched against the city. There had been surpringsly little defence against the
army, only some bandits and mobs of commoners had went against the army, and
most of the bandits were just stupid or unlucky to meet them. The lords, if
they could be called that anymore, High-Lord Selorna though, had walled
themselves inside their castles. At the beginning when he had reached their
castles, most of them had come out to pledge themselves to him. But after word
got out that he hung everyone of them, less and less had dared to come out.
Some castles had even been abandoned, with whatever scraps that could not be
carried left in them.
He spoke out to the man next to him,
"Let the word go that once I have taken this city, the defenders of it will be
buried, alive or dead. And make sure they know that too." he said with a small
grin on his face. Yes, today would be a very good day indeed he though as his
army started moving around the city, some falling to defender arrows.
The Rebel High-Lord Sunamon sat upon
his horse in the rain. He chuckled at the irony. Last time he had sat upon
horse, in the lead of his soldiers, it was because he wanted to improve the
morale of his men. That time he had received news of a loyalist army marching
towards him, and ordered his men to ambush them.
It turned out that the loyalists had
bribed the scout, and it was not the enemy that had been ambushed, but they had
been the ones to lay the ambush. The battle had been terrible, and almost half
of his forces had died before he could retreat. This time he sat on his horse
so that everyone could see that he was still alive. At least it improved morale
a bit, even more than the last time, he though while holding a small grin on
his face. Now he was forced to flee.
He waved his hand to the one of his
surviving generals, motioning him to come nearer. As the man came within range,
Sunamon said. "We have lost this battle, but not the war. Unless everything has
gone wrong, High-Lord Cerandin should be in control of Valdemon's old lands. I
say we march towards the capital there, Endearo, and try to get some
reinforcements." he said calmly.
The man replied "But what about the
army on our tails. They will follow right after us, and that means that they
will reach Endearo too."
Sunamon was angry at the man's
stupidity, but still he managed to hold a calm voice "We have a choice. Stay
here and fight, or go there and fight. In there we will have a greater chance
of winning at least. Valdemon is known for building strong walls, no matter
that he is almost as far from the national border that you can come. Stupid
man, but useful now it seems like. We move, tell the men that" and with those
words, moved his face forward, to the south.
The general though about his words
for a while, and then replied "You are correct as always, milord. I will inform
the men".
And with those words, the army
started moving towards what they though was a safe land, but it was something
fully else now.
High-Lord Amalsin looked out over
all his soldiers, thinking at their stupidity. Oh yes, if he would be one of
them, he would join the rebels within a minute. They were fighting for the
commoner's rights after all. Of course, he was not a one of them, but something
better. He was a lord. A High-Lord even, although somehow that had mattered
little when Weiramon sent him to lead the north flank. He supposed Weiramon
wanted only those most loyal to him beside him. Hopefully he would die of a
commoner's arrow, Amalsin though.
This morning he had received notes
from his informant in the rebel army. Another thing that surprised him about
war was that nothing was ever in the story. In a gleeman's tale, this
information would have came from an honourful scout or other kind of horseman,
who had ridden seven days and seven nights to bring him this info. Only that
had not happened, instead one of his contacts in Carlomins lands had bribed one
of the rebel soldiers for a pitiful sum of one gold crown. And by paying in Tar
Valonian gold, the man was probably sure that he worked for the Aes Sedai
witches.
The note said that the rebel army
had routed the bulk of the loyalist army. His army Amalsin though with a grin
on his face. The word was that High-Lord Weiramon had been killed in battle, as
well as the rest of the cavalry. There had been a body wearing High-Lord
clothes spiked upon a pole, but the face was smashed beyond recognition. It
didn't say exactly how far they were from his army, but considering on the name
of a town named in the letter, the army was probably only a seven days march to
the west. A fast march though, but Amalsin was happy he had studied the tactics
used by General Cauthon during the War of the Dragon Reborn. The army had sent
scouting parties out. Well, not exactly scouting parties, they were too big to
be called that, but none of them had been sent to the back. This was going to
be great, High-Lord Amalsin though.
"Tell the men that we will march to
the west now. And I want to make atleast 20 miles each day. 25 would be better,
but I think that this lot will only manage 20. Have I made myself clear?" he
said to one of his servants beside him. With a loud "Yes milord!" from the man,
the man ran out to tell the commanders of the banner groups.
To be continued.
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