A Meeting of Wills.
"I'm glad you could join us General Laurenar." The inside of the tent was packed with many people, ten of them Generals of Lauredor, all hunched over a five-sided table placed in relation to the tent. Some of them were looking up, tense faces questioning, High General Jordaias being the one who had spoken. The others were too involved within war map laid out on the table, littered with little gold figurines, dozens of them. There were black ones too, in the far corner, far more in number, signifying the enemy. The sides of the tent were covered with benches, on which sat the guards and captains of the Generals, still as statues. Laurenar felt ashamed that his captains were already here while he had to be called in. He made his way to the table. He could see a slightly lifted flap at the back, which he knew was the High General's own quarters.
"I am sorry for being late High General. I was sending in the request for reinforcements as you requested. There was…much to think after that and I stopped on my way to survey the troops and see their readiness." He immediately turned his face down, looking at the map and trying to look as though he was formulating a strategy. He did not want to look the General in the face for he knew of what he was about to say.
The General looked at Laurenar, clean black hair combed full back, a peck of grey here and there, unusually bright orange-brown eyes glinting, yet his small mouth shut tight, lips as thin as could be, his teeth looking ready to grind each other to pieces moving to and fro in his mouth. "I believe I warned you about being sharp of mind Laurenar. I believe I have told you countless of times throughout the thirty days that we have spent here, to be ready, alert, on your toe, so that we may have some chance of defeating an enemy that is two times stronger than us!". The High General had his hands on the table, clenching the map, knuckles white, his eyes were wide with what Laurenar saw not as anger, but shock, at the fact that he still could not get through to his own brother-in-law who, albeit much younger than all his counterparts, had seen and done more and should therefore have known better.
"Let us get on with the preparations Jordaias." Spoke General Polark. "This is no time for anger. Laurenar, you know of your formations and how to conduct them?"
Laurenar nodded, thankful for his longtime mentor for intervening. "Yes General. I have the right-centre flank and will act as cover and, if need be, rear guard to the advance force. My strike formation is to consist of solely Horse Archers where as the Knights are to follow behind to act as a possible deterrent to any advancing foot soldiers. I explained our part to my troops as you requested and am confident that we will win this battle."
"HA! Then you're the only one boy! This is going to be our undoing. We should have fallen back to protect the Capital! Where we still have some fortifications! Instead we come here in the open to fight a barbarian host more than two times our size!" Laurenar did not need to look up to know who had spoken. It was General Blekan of the infantry division. He was a tall yet spreading man with a trimmed grey beard, slightly lopsided nose and dull brown close-set eyes, a full compliment of close cut brown-grey hair on his head. He had been against this undertaking from the start and had given this same speech each day since they had been here. There was silence for quite some time, some Generals contemplating the thought, others shaking their head in amusement and disbelief, still more unaware of the now common bickering, going on plotting formations. Then, Jordaias spoke in the calmest tone he could manage;
"Blekan I'm sure you understand we are expecting battle, oh what, tomorrow?" He said still looking down at the map, surveying it but not really looking at anything.
A gruff sound issued from Blekan, knowing his mistake, "Yes".
Jordaias looked up, with a look in his eyes that scared some of the gathering, amusing those who knew him well. "Then why, pray tell, are you trying to persuade us, for the Valar know what time, to go back to the City because we are useless here?!" He was now leaning over across the table to where Blekan stood. Blekan himself had taken a few steps back and was looking as though he had received a scolding from his father.
"I am sorry High General. The heat of the day and the anxiety has been taking its toll on me and my people. As you know we are accustomed to siege combat and…"
"Yes yes, I know! You feel you do not have the skills and what not." Jordaias spoke in a bored tone, the look in his eyes vanishing, making everyone including Laurenar, who realized he was standing on his toes, calm down. Jordaias looked up at Blekan across the table again, a small smile, as big as he could manage, on his face. "Well see to it that it doesn't happen again." He ordered. He then spoke in a tired tone, "I have seen you in combat Blekan, and if there's anyone there who can save our hides or feast on the enemy to avenge us it's you. I trust you with my life my friend, and I would not see you any other place than behind me, to be there when I need you." He looked to Blekan for a little while, smiling, such as he did, causing Blekan to turn his head down in shame, with a grin, albeit a more prominent one, on his face.
"I am sorry High General," he said looking up. "It will not happen again."
"Good! Good!" said Jordaias, standing up straight, looking around brightly, "Now down to business. Let us revise our numbers and positions shall we? Laurenar! Your Numbers and positions please!"
"2500 Horse Archers, 5000 Knights sir, Right Guard flank to your advance force." Laurenar spoke up. He watched as the other Generals gave the High General the number of Soldiers in their hosts. Between the Cavalry of High General Jordaias, Laurenar and General Polark (the left flank guard leader), there were around twenty five thousand mounted knights and Horse Archers. Between the Infantry Divisions of Generals Blekan, Bragil, Toreen, Tajral, Kilgel and Maygard there were close to thirty thousand troops consisting of Pikemen, Swordsmen, Archers and Macemen, who were supported by the a large contingent of War Machines that threw fiery rocks and shot giant arrows. They were simply called the Demons of War, for they caused immense destruction, many a time to their own forces due to mismanagement. This force was to act as the Right and Left Flanks to the army, advancing after the Cavalry had made the first charge, or stopping the enemy if the charge failed and he followed. The last force consisted of around fifteen thousand assorted soldiers and artillery, which was to act as rearguard and reserve troops if needed. It was commanded by the Lady Yalanwe, the only female general in the army. Indeed the only female in the army for none had been as bold as her to join. She had been set to this position not because she was a poor leader, but because she was wife to High Elder Palamir, who requested she be kept safe, ignoring her reservations about that order. She had been very angry for being treated like this, but had seen reason, and was now sitting down on a bench, her powerful yet smooth frame held straight, showing no sign of weakness.
"Very well then." Spoke Jordaias, his voice a little dry, sounding husky. He cleared his throat "Our strategies have been perfected to the highest point. The enemy force seems to have no plan of attack which their formations would suggest, and I, at least, am certain that we shall succeed if we follow our plan. All that is left to say is that I wish you all good luck. Midnight approaches, and we should get some sleep before the day begins. The bells will be rung some time before dawn to wake everyone up. Let us hope that they need not be rung before that. Indeed, let us hope the battle does not take form tomorrow." At this the faces of all present turned dark, the guards sitting on the benches looking thunderstruck as reality hit them. All the Generals received their helmets and cloaks from their respective guards or captains and, one by one, left, saluting to the High General as they went a small train of people behind each. Laurenar stayed behind, his captains having have left on his order, wishing to stay in company with the only family member he had there.
"I wrote to Vanessë, General." Laurenar spoke, looking at him, after both had stood a while leaning on the table, facing the tent entryway, staring into nothingness.
Jordaias looked back, the same unique smile on his fifty year old face, "Jordaias, boy, Jordaias! When the rest of the authority disappears I am just, plainly, Jordaias." He looked back out the door. Laurenar turned too, observing the fine black soot that was blowing westwards like a sheer cloth of air, not expecting any other answer, not wanting one. But he got it, from a suddenly laughing High General, his shoulders bobbing up and down in a sort of silent laughter "I did too! HA! Told her ev-ev-everything was going to be f-f-fi-fine!" Laurenar laughed with him, forcing it out, knowing his Brother-In-law did not mean to be so, because the High General's jawbone was shaking visibly, and not from laughing.
"You know I am hoping that the battle does take form tomorrow." Spoke Jordaias again; looking at his boots, "Maybe our suffering will end then! Maybe they won't be so harsh with our people! Maybe they will just be happy and leave us be, content with our defeat. After all, one side has to lose eh!" he said looking at his brother-in-law, "Why not the weakest one." He was shaking his head now, looking down, and his shoulders visibly shaking straining under his weight they were supporting on the table. He was speaking in low voices so as to be heard only by Laurenar, sounding hesitant yet defeated. Laurenar was staring at him wide-eyed; amazed to see this scared, weakened and nervous side of the man he called the Erë Hón, the Iron Heart in the ancient tongue. He immediately found himself falling victim to these dark thoughts, but composed himself and stood up, breathing in the air, regretting it immediately, for a handful of soot had gone down his throat. He stood up then, facing his brother-in-law, making the High General lift his face up to look at the younger man. Without realizing he took on a stern look, for he had felt betrayed by the very man he was supposed to follow to his death. He had seen a level of commitment and readiness in the soldiers that he had never seen before! He could see none of the soldiers drowning in worst case scenarios of their own making, but had seen a host who saw certain victory in battle. And here was their commander, slumped in front of a table, contemplating death and surrender while his forces stood ready to fight hell and high water.
"How could you? How could you even think of giving up? How can you think of betraying your people and your family so easily, Iron Heart? Have you even seen your soldiers 'o wise one? Have you seen the valor that they possess! Have you seen how they are ready to follow you to their deaths, knowing, and I'm beginning to think wrongly, that their leader will not let them die?! HOW COULD YOU FORGET YOUR FATHER?! HOW COULD YOU FORGET YOUR BROTHER?!HOW COULD YOU FORGET THE FAMILIES OF COUNTLESS OTHER WHO WERE SLAUGHTERED FOR NO REASON!?" The words came out slowly at first, picking up speed, rising to a crescendo and then echoing off into the desert, heard by many, Laurenar could tell from whispered voices of the guards behind. The High General was looking straight up at Laurenar, his eyes glossed with tears which threatened to burst out, held back only by the position of his head. It was only then that Laurenar jerked back to the world, looking at that face that had been as intimidating before as it was vulnerable now, open to the world, lost, without any guard, having had lost all its dignity to a lesser person. Laurenar felt more ashamed than he had ever been, and his mouth started to open and close, saying nothing in particular.
"Perhaps," spoke Jordaias in low paused tones, still looking up "you should leave now."
Laurenar tried to turn in a word of regret, trying to apologize, taking a step towards the General, but the General got up and retreated to the back of the tent towards the entrance to his own lodgings, walking fast with strong steps. "Leave!" And with that he disappeared behind the flap.