Chapter 32; Battle of the Flamewall;
Characters of the chapter
Alexander de Rozien, Chevalier of Orlais, Marshal of the Grand Army of Orlais, supreme commander of the Orlesian invasion of Westeros
Edmond Brahms, Knight of Nevarra, Military advisor to the court of King Jon
Ernest, Captain in the Imperial army of Orlais
Hannah of Starkhaven, Ambassador on behalf of the College of Magi
Jon Snow, also known as Aegon Targaryen and Jon Stark, King of the North Kingdom of the Twin Kingdoms
Michel de Chevin, Chevalier of Orlais
Ynessa des Montagnes, Chevalier of Orlais, Duelling Champion to de Rozien, Chosen Sword of Orlais
Curved/Bold text in the chapter is in Orlesian
"LEFT, LEFT, LEFT-RIGHT-LEFT" Bellowed an Orlesian Captain named Ernest as he led his force of five hundred pikemen to their position on the infantry line the Orlesians were forming. Along with his shouts drummers were beating a cadence to help the troops maintain pace. Some distance to the right of them marched the crossbowmen of their regiment, and beyond them the skirmisher units and the command unit; the command unit carrying the regimental banner as well as signaling flags. Other units of infantry and cavalry were likewise in motion around them as the Orlesians made ready for battle, while behind them light and medium trebuchets were being made ready for firing.
Finally his battalion had reached its destination, his soldiers stopped moving forward, their feet continuing to tamp the ground as they waited for him to order them to hold position. "Pike battalion… Halt!" he shouted, and with a final crash of boots against the ground the shouts of marching cut off abruptly. "Left turn… turn!" he shouted his next command, and every soldier of his battalion pivoted on the spot, turning to face the enemy army on the far side of the field. "At ease!" He gave his final command, and the soldiers of his battalion assumed a relaxed pose. The pike battalion now to the left of his own and the crossbows behind were echoing the commands he had just given. "Battalion ready ser!" He shouted to the Colonel of his regiment. The said Colonel nodded and ordered the signaling flags and horns in his unit to signal that the regiment was in position and ready.
"Soldiers! Who are we?" Ernest shouted to his men.
"Orlesians!" They responded.
"And who are they!?" He shouted, pointing at the enemy.
"Dead men!" His soldiers shouted back.
"For whom do we fight!?"
"Emperor and Empire!"
"Where do we stand!?"
"Our land!"
"And how did we get it!?"
"Through victory!"
The Orlesian infantry were now arranged to three battle lines, the pike-crossbow regiments forming the first one, the pike battalion of each regiment arranged into four ranks with the crossbowmen right behind them. The second line was made out of three ranks of longbowmen in loose formation. The final reserve line of infantry contained standard sword and shield infantry. Behind even these were the war machines along with the Marshall's command position and the mages accompanying the army. Cavalry had deployed on either flank, organized into Sling formations on both sides.
On the opposite side of the battlefield the Westerosi had also finished forming up, mirroring the arrangement of the Orlesians: Infantry on the front, archers behind them and cavalry on the flanks. When the King showed up, riding to the front of his army, his people began cheering and calling his name, shouting their defiance at the invader.
"People should have the decency know when they're conquered." Ynessa said contemptuously, watching the display atop her horse.
"Would you, Ynessa? Would I?" The Marshall responded.
Marshall Rozien watched the spectacle of the Westerosi for a time, then turned to Hannah. "I think we have seen enough. Enchanter, if you would."
The Enchanter nodded and raised her arms, lightning dancing between her free hand and her staff. The sky was clear, but suddenly there it was, a single small storm cloud as black as sin, materializing as if from nothing. As soon as it formed lightning stabbed the Westerosi infantry line just behind the king. The effect was devastating: Where the lightning struck a plume of dirt and burning body parts rose to the air. Some soldiers were set ablaze, while others simply flopped dead to the ground like puppets with their strings cut. The cheers died out at once, a deathly silence now reigned among the Westerosi. Even the King looked alarmed, while his horse danced around nervously.
"You missed." Ynessa commented.
"I did not. I hit precisely where I was aiming." The mage calmly said in retort. "If the King dies, that army routs, regroups and returns under someone else's command. This way we get a chance to crush them. And I remember the Marshal's instructions. Besides, it seems a terribly unsportsmanlike thing to do, snuffing out the enemy commander without giving them a chance to face us in honest battle." She then explained.
"Fair enough. I suppose I would have been disappointed had you caused the entire enemy army to flee." Ynessa allowed. In her mind she was also quite pleased the mage had decided not to kill the King. That would truly have been disheartening after such a long search. "Although it seems also that some of the enemy need only so much encouragement." She continued, pointing at the enemy force. In their rear ranks, individual figures were breaking off the main force and fleeing.
"Look at them run away like rats." She mocked. "Yes, run away little rodents. The lion of Orlais descends upon you."
"To be fair, the enemy is unfamiliar with magic. In their eyes we just hit them with the wrath of the Maker Himself. Can you truly blame that there are those who run?" Michel joined the conversation.
"No. One cannot." Ynessa decided. "Every army has its cowards."
"And the rest of us have to choose between victory or death. I for one choose victory. Let our cowards not be too much of a hindrance to this intent." Rozien said. "Ynessa, Michel, to your posts." He then commanded.
Both Chevaliers nodded left at once, Michelle going to the right and Ynessa to the left. Michelle got his share of cheers and shouts of encouragement as he rode past the troops, but it was Ynessa who garnered most of the attention. "Sunblade, Sunblade, Sunblade!" The Orlesian soldiers chanted as she rode on, the plumes of her helmet fluttering in the wind. In response to the shouts she drew her sword, a huge cheer rising from the Orlesian ranks when they saw its golden light shining.
"Chevaliers, wedge formations!" Ynessa shouted to the Chevaliers in her command when she reached them. She took her place at the head of one of the wedges, sheathing her sword once more as her squire handed her lance to her.
Back at the hill, the Marshal observed that his cavalry had finished forming up. Now was the time to begin he decided. "Artillery companies, commence firing!" he bellowed a command. To his right a soldier holding a signaling flag swung the flag down, and the trebuchet behind him sent a cloud of rocks the size of a man's head through the air to rain down on the Westerosi. The flag to the right of the first one swung down and another trebuchet fired. One by one the trebuchets fired in this fashion, until all of them had fired their payload. By the time the last one had fired, the first one had almost finished reloading, and soon sent another cloud of rocks into the air. De Rozien observed the result of the bombardment, noting with satisfaction that reasonably many rocks of this continuous hail of stone were hitting their marks.
"Good shooting! Keep at it!" He congratulated the artillery crews.
In response to the bombardment the Westerosi began their advance, urged on by their King, who had taken position with the cavalry on the left side of their line. On the far side of the battlefield, Ynessa cursed in her mind as she realized that the King was on the far side of the battlefield. Even with all her skill, there would be no way for her to hack through the entire North Kingdom army to engage the King. She would have think of some other solution. But first things first. There was a battle that still needed to be won here…
"Pike regiment, prepare to repel infantry!" Shouted the Colonel of Ernest's unit.
"Pike battalion, stand to! Deploy… pikes!" Ernest shouted in response, and the pikes in his command leveled, pointing a forest of spear points toward the foe.
"Crossbow battalion, half step right… step!" The captain of the crossbow battalion shouted at the same time. The crossbow unit was now slightly offset from the pike unit, the heads of the crossbowmen poking out between the lines of pikemen.
When the Westerosi came to range they sent a volley of arrows into the ranks of the Orlesians, killing several of his soldiers.
"Hold your positions, hold! Stand together, courage now!" He shouted as the arrows continued to rain on his soldiers. Soldiers from the rear ranks stepped forward to take the places of their fallen comrades. Behind them the Orlesian longbowmen fired back with a volley of their own.
"Crossbows, prepare to fire!" Bellowed the captain of the crossbows, and the first line of crossbowmen pointed their weapons toward the foe. "First rank… fire!" The captain shouted next, and the first line sent a cloud of bolts flying in a low arch over the heads of the pikemen to fall amongst the Westerosi, felling several. Then the first line knelt and began reloading their weapons. "Second rank, fire! Third, fire! Fourth, fire!" The captain continued to shout, each command sending a fresh wave of bolts to the air, and more of the enemy died. Some moments after the first rank of crossbowmen had finished reloading and a new series of volleys began, continuing with mechanical presicion. Mages of the army opened fire as well, tearing at the enemy force with a storm of arcane powers, by the command of the Marshal concentrating their efforts against the enemy cavalry.
Ynessa saw the Marshal's command unit give the signal for the cavalry to advance. "Chevaliers, CHAARGE!" She shouted, and they set off, galloping at full speed towards the opposing horsemen, the army cavalry following them out.
Jon flinched as a blast of fire took out six riders just behind him. All around similar happenings were unfolding, savage magical attacks tearing holes in his army, each spell killing many, all the while arrows and rocks were falling like rain. Brahms had been right, this kind of firepower could not be weathered for long. They had to close in and engage the enemy while their forces were still sufficiently intact to fight. He just hoped that they had the strength to turn the tide in close combat with the enemy cavalry. Everything depended on it.
"If only Rhaegal was here for me to ride. There I would have a potent weapon to counter the magics they fling at us." He thought as he rode on.
He saw the enemy cavalry force ahead beginning to split in two, the lighter cavalry spreading out further out to his left, while the chevaliers continued to head straight at them.
"Now!" Jon shouted, and the rear ranks of his cavalry changed course, heading after the Imperial army cavalry. It was a risky maneuver, as it spread his forces quite thin, but it was the only way to keep the enemy from outflanking them.
Just then the two forces of cavalry met, and the battle began in earnest for him. He cut off the tip of the first lance that tried to strike at him, then sliced open the throat of the chevalier carrying it as they passed, his Valyrian steel blade easily biting through the man's plate armor and the shield he wore. His horse kept riding on, the dead rider dangling limply from the saddle. Jon's sword clanged once against that of another enemy as the rode past each other before he lost sight of the said enemy. All around him both groups were breaking up, the situation deteriorating into a series of skirmishes. The next enemy rode to him and they exchanged a series of blows before Jon managed to behead him. As soon as his enemy was dead he rode off in search of his next opponent.
On the opposite side of the battle Ynessa's unit also made contact with the enemy. Seeing as the rider she had chosen as her target was heavily armored, she drove her lance into the horse instead. Half the length of the lance sunk into the horse's flesh, the weapon breaking apart in a tremendous crack. The horse tumbled over hard, while the rider went flying overhead. She snapped her head back as a spear reached for her throat, ripping away her gorget. She replaced her broken lance with her sword, slashing at the next enemy that came near her. Despite the awkwardness of facing a left handed fighter, her opponent raised his sword in time to block her blow, only for the Sunblade to cut it's way straight through the opposing metal, tracing a huge gash on the body of the man holding it. She quickly turned her horse around, slashing open the throat of a dismounted enemy knight. Momentarily free of enemies, she raised her blade high, her horse rearing under her. "For Orlais! Emperor and Empire!" She roared.
Ernest grunted as the enemy infantry made contact with their line, the tip of his pike burying itself in the belly of the one nearest to him. About half of the initial wave of enemies charging at them made it past the first rank of pike tips, but only a few made it past the second, and none past the third. The fourth line remained completely untouched for the time being. The Westerosi that were still alive continued to try to get past their defenses, slashing at the pike tips or trying to take hold of the shafts. One man even climbed over the shoulders of his fellows and tried to jump to the midst of the Orlesians, but pikes rose to meet him, and he was impaled. He hung there like a grotesque banner until they managed to shake him loose. Enemy archers continued to send arrows into the rear ranks of the pikemen, felling some of them. With the forest of pikes thinned somewhat by arrows, a few enemy fighters managed to fight their way through the pikes to cut down a few of his soldiers before being killed in turn. Despite this the Orlesian continued to hold on, tightening their lines anew and holding their ground. The crossbowmen of the Orlesian regiment continued to return fire in ordered volleys, each rank firing in turn, each volley sending more Westerosi to their graves in the rear ranks.
"Pikemen, advance by step!" Ernest bellowed over the din of the battle, seeing an opportunity in the thinning of the enemy line achieved by the crossbows. "Step!" He shouted, each soldier responding with a step forward and an accompanying cadenced shout. The suddenly forward moving pike tips pierced any man among the enemy too slow to move back. "Step, step, step!" He shouted in rhythm, each shout met with a step forward and shout in response, the pikes driving deeper into the enemy line. "Hold position!" He shouted then to keep his battalion from advancing too far out of line in comparison to the other battalions. His soldiers halted their advance and resumed holding the line.
Back on the hill Marshal Alexander observed that the enemy had now fully committed themselves to the battle. They had done as he had known they would. He turned to the enchanter. "It is time." Alexander said to her. Hannah nodded and walked to where a large number of her fellow mages were standing. Together they raised their hands and began the casting. Flame glowed at the palms of each, the air rippling between them, the mages muttering something in a language Alexander did not recognize. Even as this was happening he saw that the air was also beginning to ripple at the center of the Westerosi infantry line. The enemy troops were taking note as well, hesitating in their assault, some of them trying to move away from the area of rapidly climbing temperature. Then the flames exploded in their midst, incinerating many northmen, rapidly moving from one end of the Westerosi line to the other, becoming a blazing wall of flame that cut the northern infantry force in half. Those on the far side of the flames retreated away, while the rest found themselves trapped.
When the flames appeared, the Orlesian pikemen were briefly frightened by the display of magic before rallying, despite the fact that they had been told to expect the attack. But they regained their composure soon enough. "Battalion, advance by step! Push them into the fire!" Ernest shouted, and his soldiers began to advance to his commands as before, beginningto crush the foe between a wall of sharp steel on one side and a wall of flame on the other. Unable to retreat away from the pikes, the Westerosi began to sustain heavy casualties. Those that could streamed away from the sides, but there were far too many for all of them to escape in this way. In a matter of moments the trapped men began to surrender in their thousands rather than burn.
"Maker's breath." Edmond cursed as he saw the situation unfold. In one move the Orlesians had seized control of the battle. Gone were the chances of inflicting a severe wound on the enemy before retreating, their wall of fire had robbed them of that possibility. The spell had caught him completely unawares; it had never occurred to him that magic could be applied in such a way. The Westerosi center was now gone, with their infantry dead, fleeing or surrendering. With the Orlesian infantry now unimpeded, if the royalist cavalry stayed put they would be surrounded and overwhelmed.
"Signal full retreat. This battle is lost." He told a northman standing nearby. Reluctantly the northman raised a horn to his lips. Edmond knew that now it was important to save as much as could be saved so that when they next did battle they would have at least something of a fighting chance.
Upon hearing the signal the Westerosi cavalry disengaged began to retreat, with the imperial riders pursuing at once. Edmond ordered the archers to fire at the pursuers, causing enough of a ruckus that most of the royalist cavalry were able to get a clean getaway, with only a few of them falling at the enemy hands. Then he and the archers were forced to retreat as well to avoid being run down by the enemy horsemen. With the royalist cavalry retreating the battle was effectively over, with the whole northern army withdrawing from battle. Arrows and boulders continued to rain down ceaselessly, slaying Westerosi left right and center. Meanwhile the enemy cavalry were slaying anyone they caught who did not surrender immediately.
Ynessa continued to gallop forward, cutting down a fleeing man as she rode. Her shield had cracked and shattered during the battle, leading her to discard it, and her armor and that armor of her horse had sustained a few dents, but other than that she was fine, feeling exhilarated by the battle. She spotted the Westerosi king retreating with a dozen others of his people, perhaps four hundred meters separating them. Close enough to observe, too far to chase down when both of them were on horseback. So instead she stopped and looked at this king, half dozen of her Chevaliers gathering at her flanks. As if sensing her, the king and his entourage also stopped and turned to look upon her, their eyes meeting across the battlefield. She removed her helm and, a smile tugging the corner of her mouth, she raised the Sunblade high. Having been drenched in blood, the light on the blade of the sword had changed color, assuming an angry red hue. Then she pointed the sword straight at the King. The King upon seeing this grabbed a bow and arrow from an archer just near him, aimed quickly from horseback and loosed an arrow into the air. Unfazed, Ynessa calmly watched the arrow sail toward her. The arrow embedded itself on the ground before the feet of her horse, causing it to neigh nervously and take a step back. Having fired his arrow, the King turned around and left with his countrymen.
"What was that about?" One of her Chevaliers asked her.
"I challenged him. I showed him the sword that had drunk the blood of his people and I told him that the same sword would be coming for him as well." Ynessa explained.
"Oh. Then it seems he accepted your challenge my lady." The Chevalier said.
"Indeed, and I am glad of it." She said, smiling.
She donned her helmet once more. "Rally my units, call up as many riders as you can. We are going to pursue the King. If we hurry we may yet catch him." She told the Chevalier.
"Pursue him? But… the Marshal… our orders…" The Chevalier tried to protest. To chase after the enemy meant to leave the sight of the main army, which had been expressly forbidden by de Rozien.
"Your orders are the ones I just gave you. Carry them out." She said slowly, with a tone that brooked no argument.
The Chevalier hesitated only a brief while longer. "Yes Ser." He said finally and rode off to carry out her command, as did the rest of the Chevaliers around her. Meanwhile her eyes were fixed into the distance, in the direction the King had fled to.
"You won't escape me, King in the North." She told herself. "We WILL cross blades in combat. It will be glorious for both of us."