Chapter 16; Battle of the Charge
Characters of the chapter
Alexander de Rozien Chevalier of Orlais, Marshal of the Grand army of Orlais, Supreme commander Orlesian invasion of Westeros
Andharr Kronos Lord of the Upstart House Kronos
Ynessa des Montagnes Chevalier of Orlais, Duelling Champion to de Rozien, Chosen sword of Orlais
The sun blazed full on a midday of summer, bringing warmth the battlefield and the two armies present as they maneuvered to face each other. The battlefield itself was an open meadow of low grass lined on all sides by thick forests, that, unbeknownst to all, concealed a few young farm boys that had come to observe the battle from afar, safely on the sidelines.
On one side of the battlefield were the Westerosi, their army consisting of Targaryen infantry in their silvery chainmail and metal breastplates painted black; as well as Tully soldiers in their scale mail. The three-headed dragon banners of the Queen fluttered lazily on the wind alongside the trout of the Tully's and a dozen other banners belonging to lesser houses. The Westerosi had arranged themselves into neat squares just outside the forest. Spearmen at the front, archers at the back. The only significant mistake in their deployment, brought about by inexperienced commanders, was that they were standing on an open field, rather than taking advantage of the more broken ground inside the forest. The Westerosi force was mostly infantry, with only a handful of knights riding up and down the line, ensuring their men were properly organized.
The Orlesian host arrayed on the opposite side of the battlefield, on the other hand, consisted entirely of cavalry. Chevaliers formed the center in their ornate heavy plate decorated with flowers, lions and depictions of Andraste, sitting atop equally heavily armored warhorses. The Chevaliers were organized into a number of wedge formations, each about five hundred men strong. At the head of each wedge flew the masked sun of the Empire. On the flanks of this force there were blocks of more lightly armored Imperial cavalrymen on their unarmored horses.
"Orlais!" came the thunderous shout from the Imperial side. "Orlais, Orlais, Orlais!" shouted the orlesians again and again as the worked themselves to a battle-fury before the charge. Lances tilted, and to the deep, growling Bwaaarrra! of an Imperial warhorn the orlesian charge began, the ground shaking before the hooves of forty thousand horses. In response the Westerosi loosed a volley of arrows into the air. The cloud rose, and fell, peppering the Imperial ranks like rain, clattering against the armor and shields of the Chevaliers. Some found their mark, and Chevaliers fell from their saddles, dead, but not nearly enough of them were slain to break the impetus of their charge.
The Westerosi line soon began to waver, inexperienced Targaryen infantrymen shaking with fear at their positions, taking cautious steps backwards as the officers shouted for the soldiers to stand their ground, shouted for the line to be held, shouted for courage. But what courage could there be against this rapidly closing line of steel beasts, with their emotionless steel faces, and not a single weakpoint to be seen on any of them?
Just before the charge hit home, the Westerosi line broke, soldiers turning to flee, while the few who stood their ground were soon trampled without their fellows. Then the Chevaliers were amongst their enemy, and the slaughter began. Meanwhile the Imperial army cavalry soon outpaced the fleeing infantry and began enveloping the enemy, turning the Imperial line into a set of rapidly closing jaws that enclosed the fleeing foe. In a matter of minutes hope for a royalist victory was gone and the day belonged to the Orlesian Empire.
"Maker damned bastards can't even rout properly." thought one Chevalier as she plunged her lance between the shoulder blades of a fleeing man, hitting him hard enough to flip him head over heels, her lance snapping in half. She tossed her broken weapon aside pulled out her sword. As soon as it left its scabbard, the bronze colored blade ignited with golden light, as bright as the sun. She could feel the heat of the blade through all the armor she wore. With the same motion as she pulled it out she split the skull of a fleeing enemy. Then she brought her blade back up with an upwards swing, slicing open the back of another opponent, after which she went on to stab another soldier between shoulder and neck as she rode past him. She struck with her weapon again and again, and with every blow a foeman's life was ended. "Orlais! Emperor and Empire!" she shouted as she rode on, and others soon took up her war cry, until the whole army was shouting it:
"Orlais, Orlais, Orlais!"
"By Andraste's pyre, who is that? The one with the glowing sword." Asked lord Andharr of house Kronos, a forty year old man with oily black hair and stubble of the same color, as he observed the battle unfold from a distance, seated on his horse.
"That would be Ynessa des Montagnes, Chevalier and the Chosen sword of Orlais. And my personal champion no less." replied Marshal Alexander de Rozien, the commander of the Orlesian army, a man of sixty years with an undeniable air of military authority despite the plumpness he had acquired in his later years, who likewise was on horseback.
"Ynessa? Why does that name sound familiar?" Andharr wondered.
"She once took part in a tourney arranged at Harrenhall, when you made peace with your son." said the Marshall.
"Ah yes, now I remember." Andharr said after a moment of recollecting. "If I recall correctly, she was the only foreigner taking part in the tourney, also the first woman in the history of the kingdoms to do so. And then that madwoman went and won the joust and the grand melee seemingly without even trying, crushing every opponent that came up against her. Gave my best knights the worst humiliation of their lives. And my son's knights fared no better. The only contest she didn't win was the archery contest, because she didn't take part in it. I'm told the tourney crowd took to calling her the she-demon of Orlais."
De Rozien laughed at that. "I'm told she finds that nickname amusing. She's just ask capable on the battlefield I'm pleased to say. A fine soldier, if tad, erm… ferocious."
"Ferocious is quite a mild word for it. Look at her go!" Andharr commented. "Ynessa… that's not an Orlesian name is it?" he then contemplated.
"Indeed not, but Ynessa is not purely of Orlesian descent." Replied the Marshal. "Her father was an Orlesian merchant yes, but her mother was actually an Avvar. You have heard of those people I expect? How such a thing came to pass is a story she should be allowed to tell herself. She considers herself fully orlesian though, despite some traditions she keeps from her mother's culture. And the last idiot dumb enough to call her a mongrel got the pommel of her sword in his teeth, so I advise caution."
"Duly noted." Andharr said, half-amused. "But tell me, if she is of such low birth, and only half-orlesian, how come she is a Chevalier?" He then asked. "It's my understanding that the position is reserved to nobility."
"Traditionally yes, and that is the case with most chevaliers." Agreed the Marshal. "She, however, chose a most auspicious time to seek the position, since the Emperor has widened the right to become a Chevalier to include members of lower social orders with sufficient competence and the patronage of a noble or a Chevalier. She had such a sponsor, namely myself. To top it all off she challenged anyone who thought her unworthy to prove their case by defeating her in a duel. That she is a Chevalier now should tell you how successful her opponents were."
"Indeed." Lord Andharr commented. "And then there is the fact she wields the Sunblade. One does not get to be the Chosen sword of Orlais with a poor level of skill."
Meanwhile on the battlefield Ynessa spotted a target that caught her interest: a fleeing enemy soldier carrying a Targaryen banner larger than other such banners, one that could only be the banner of this particular army. She pressed her heels to the sides of her horse and galloped to him. "You have a choice, soldier!" she shouted in accented Westerosi common as she turned her horse to block his path and brought the tip of her sword within a few inches of his face. "You can die here, at my hands. Or you can give me that banner and go to live your empty little life somewhere else."
The soldier hesitated only briefly before handing the banner to her with both hands. She took the banner into her hands, cradling it as if it were a newborn, admiring the fabric. Then she glanced at the soldier still awkwardly standing nearby, as if expecting her to hand the banner back to him at any moment.
"What are you still doing here? Scurry away now, before I change my mind and ride you down. Shoo!" She barked at him, and with that he snapped out of his trance and began running, fleeing as fast as his legs could carry him.
With the battle now all but concluded, she rode back to the where the Marshal and Lord Kronos were to be found. When she reached them, she plunged the pole of the flag on the ground before them. "I bring us glory this day my lords. The banner of the enemy army has been claimed." She shouted in greeting.
"Nicely done." Lord Andharr commented. "But why did you let the banner bearer go? It's doubtful he could have stopped you."
"Likely not." Ynessa answered "but I offered him a bargain: his life for the honor of his army. Clearly he values one more than the other. And once a Chevalier has given her word, her code compels her to honor it."
"But why bargain at all? You could just as easily have slaughtered him and taken his banner by force."
Ynessa shrugged. "Because I felt like it. I'm content with today's battle, and he was hardly worth my time. One footman is not going to change the course of this war, but capturing an enemy banner causes shame to our enemies, the shame of not being able to train their troops to be more courageous and loyal."
"I'm not convinced such a thing will mean as much in this part of the world. Banners are everywhere hereabouts." Lord Andharr said, thoughtful. "Regardless, I wish to congratulate you on your valiant conduct on the field of battle. Your skills were a privilege to observe."
"Bah, today was butcher's work, no more. Nothing valiant about it. I came to this land expecting dragons and wolves, but all I have seen so far is dragonlings and fish on dry land. I ought to have brought a lesser sword to battle; it is offensive to spill such base blood with the Sunblade. If this is the best the Twin Kingdoms can offer, then truly this war was over before it started." Ynessa said, disdainful.
Lord Andharr was mildly incensed at Ynessa's haughty manner. The Westerosi were, after all, still his people, despite the fact that he had turned on them. He would not see them mocked this way.
"I assure you, there are more impressive enemies in these lands. You attacked untrained boys with every conceivable advantage today. Of course you won a fight like that. Next time won't be like that, not when our enemies have had time to mobilize. Next time arrogance like that might cost you." Andharr said.
"Well said, and heartwarming to hear." Ynessa replied. "Perhaps there is still some worthwhile fighter somewhere here to test myself against then."
"Alright, alright, that's enough chestpounding from the both of you. There is work still to be done today." The Marshal intervened, amused. "Ynessa, command our forces to round up any remaining survivors." he then commanded.
"What is to be done with them?" Ynessa asked.
"Nobles of knight rank or higher are to be prepared for transportation back to Orlais. We can ransom them back after this war is over. As for the rest, collect their weapons and armor, have the scribes write down their names and extract from them an oath that they will not return to the battlefield in the ranks of any enemy of Orlais. From this point forward anyone caught violating this oath will face execution as the penalty, make sure they understand that. The same applies to anyone refusing to give such an oath. After they have given their word, you may release them." Alexander told her.
"Release them?" Andharr repeated, surprised, as Ynessa rode off to carry out her orders. "Why on earth would you do such a thing?"
"Practicality." the Marshal replied. "It saves me from having to lug around a huge number of prisoners with my army, and I won't have to waste resources on them either."
"If that is your desire why not simply execute them?" Andharr asked. "It would be quicker, easier and less… risky."
"That, as it happens, would go against my orders. The Emperor has commanded me to do what I can to win these people over. He does not wish a protracted rebellion like our people faced in Ferelden. Gaining the support of the locals will be hard to do behind a pile of corpses, particularly unarmed ones, so I contain the damage when that is practical. The men I release, they will return to their homes and tell their families of how merciful we can be towards those who do not persist on resistance."
"Or the moment they are out of earshot they will decide that the oath they have given you does not bind them and return to the command of our enemies." Andharr continued to argue. "Even if you recapture them what's to stop them from giving a false name to avoid discovery?"
"Very little." said the Marshal. "But we shall make sure that they understand that when we suspect foul play we will err on the side of caution. That fear should keep most of them away, particularly since it is my understanding that local men-at-arms don't always even fully understand the cause they are fighting for. And even if they return to our enemies, they will now have to go through the trouble of providing them with new arms and armor to replace what we have taken."
"Then we can only hope that your solution works as intended. What will be our next move?" Lord Kronos asked next.
"I'll get to that later, at a proper briefing." The orlesian commander replied.
"Very well. My forces are at your service, whatever you decide. I am confident you can rely on our other allies as well." Lord Andharr reassured.
"That is good to hear." The Marshal said, pleased. "Your houses have already been invaluable to our efforts so far, and no doubt there will be sore need of you all in the future as well. Though… I have been wondering why it is so? Why did you side with us? What compelled you to betray your king and queen?"
"It was they who betrayed us. They are the same as the rest of the New Houses, yet they refused us." Lord Kronos answered, the anger he felt about the betrayal he alleged to have suffered clear in his voice.
"When the King in the North came to his throne, the world believed him a bastard, not entitled to anything at all. The throne was his because he won it through his efforts. The Queen was the last member of a fallen house, doomed to drift away into obscurity as a plaything of some Dothraki warlord, until she took agency in her own destiny, picked herself up from the dirt and with great effort built the road to the kingdom she now holds. By their actions they are our kin, self-made rulers who worked to get what they have, just like the lords of our houses. And yet they turned their backs on us. By rights they should have stood out for their fellows and supported us when we pleaded for recognition, recognition they had already received from us. Instead they chose the prideful path. They hoarded the recognition they had been granted and turned a deaf ear to our request, siding themselves with the entitled fools of older houses. All we wished for was a release from the insecurity of holding lands without recognized lordships." He continued explaining.
"Fascinating. And this brought you to us?" The Marshal asked.
"The Emperor has made our houses certain assurances. In return for our aid he has promised to be a more generous ruler. He will give us what the King and the Queen would not, and more besides. Provided your people are willing to uphold their end of the bargain." the lord of house Kronos stated.
"But of cource. The generosity of the Orlesian Empire towards our friends is renowned throughout the world." Alexander assured. "Almost as renowned as the fury we have in store for our enemies." he added, smirking behind his mask.
Lord Kronos smiled. "Then I am content, for I have witnessed the fury of your armies with my own eyes."