A Fine Death
HILDRINN, LORDSHIP OF HILDRINN, KINGDOM OF SOUTHSWARD
Godred Swalestrom was awaiting his father's orders.
His cousin Sigurd somehow arrived at Hildrinn before the Otterguard, annoying father to no end. Now the city would have to be taken by force, and much time and beasts would be wasted, never to be returned to them.
When Lord Becker heard the news, his first reaction was no nearly faint in rage. His second, more dignified response was to build a few siege towers and catapults to intimidate Hildrinn's denizens, and are to be used only when it is absolutely necessary.
Which was now.
Due to the plans and machinations of Lord Erlend, the citizens of Hildrinn were staunchly anti-Floret. They would simply not tolerate Godred and his father. If they were so forthcoming as to invite the elder Swalestrom lord, there would be a high chance that a trap is waiting to be sprung.
Lord Becker refrained from assaulting - slow and steady may not always win races, but more haste does equal less speed. So they waited. And waited.
Godred never believed in miracles. There are seldom coincidences in politics, and exactly none in war, so everything happened for clear and specific reasons. His father was a bit more optimistic, however, and luck shone ever brightly on him indeed.
"Godred." His father called him, drawing him away from the newly-built siege engines, ready to be used. "I need you to handle the siege here. After the last parley session in the afternoon, I will have another task - one less important, though more useful to our cause."
Father's leaving everything here to me? This is a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one!
"I will not let you down, Father." Godred responded, trying (and failing) to hide the joy on his face. His father caught on fast.
"Don't get carried away now, Godred! You need to keep yourself calm for you to succeed. Rashness will goad you into a fine death, and we would not want that happening, won't we?" Godred hastily nodded, causing the elder lord to calm down.
"Now onto the parley. No matter what happens, Godred, do not speak. I will handle everything here. I handled my brother before, and his son would not be any different."
Becker and Erlend were known by deeds and character as 'The Serpent' and 'The Fox' by their enemies (though never by each other). Both of them were cunning, and they were one of the few beasts that can outplay the other. Their children were less suited to intrigue, to the serpent's joy and the fox's chagrin.
"Pardon me for asking, Father, but what will you be doing when I am besieging the city? Bedric and Ralos took the west, and Garrion is busy preparing defences in Floret. We are now in the eastern reaches of the realm. What remains of interest to you and your plans?"
"Meraholmer." Lord Becker Swalestrom responded. "I have a fox cub to catch, and he will not escape my grasp."
Before Godred was able to ask his father about what he wanted with Lord Thordan, the defenders of Hildrinn decided to accept his parley request.
Parley was serious business for highborn and commoner alike, and the Swalestrom twins were children of both. When they heard of their uncle's request for peace talks, they went about on their immediate preparations, and quickly affirmed their desire for a brief truce.
The first thing Lord Becker did was to apologise for the inconvenience he and his son had caused to the twins' plans for using Hildrinnas a base for an Eastern invasion of Southsward proper. Sigrun heartily accepted the apology while Sigurd was less accepting of the fact that Lord Becker constructed to dozen siege engines to inconvenience them.
Godred was also less than thrilled to see the twins. He and Sigurd were almost completely alike, and this only increased the bad blood between them. While their fathers were both carefree and understanding, children do not always resemble their parents, and it showed in the Swalestroms.
"My terms are as such," Lord Becker declared. "You two are to lead your forces away from Hildrinn, allowing us to take the city without casualties, and you will receive safe passage from Dravania."
Safe passage? Father really wants Hildrinn. But Sigurd tries too hard to be his father's son. He won't simply yield.
"As Hildrinn is de jure a Dravain city, you hold no authority here as Skipper of the Floret Otterguard." Sigurd Swalestrom shouted. "Your title as Lord of Hildrinn is also a fabrication by the false King Gideon of Southsward, and has been revoked accordingly by King Somerled. By his second decree after his accession, I am lord of this city."
Sigurd must have savoured the look of shock Lord Becker and his son shared on their faces. First it was one of confusion, then it was one of doubt, then their faces shifted into rage, with Godred trembling from it.
His sister decided that it would be her turn to speak. "Thus, you have no power to continue your negotiations, and it is our time to offer terms."
Waiting for Lord Becker's face to return to a tenuous smile, Sigrun Swalestrom continued, "Our terms are even more simple. You are to leave Dravania, and surrender all your titles to anyone King Somerled would grant."
Lord Becker's smile faded into a grimace. "While you may see these terms as natural, we simply cannot accept them. You may have the Strandsors and your brother on your side, but they will soon be just as finished. Rest assured that you will not be able to triumph over a just cause."
The twins stared at each other and muttered amongst themselves. Then Sigurd decided to give his response.
"You might have been struggling with the just cause thing. It is simply alien to you. This is going nowhere, and I see no point in continuing the negotiations if we just sling pointless insults at each other."
Godred finally decided to step up. "So are you surrendering or not?" Everybeast (even his father) turned to him with annoyance in their eyes.
"They will not be surrendering now, boy." Lord Becker sighed as he turned to his son. "It's up to you to change their stubborn minds."
Obviously thinking about the Trielian blessing, he added,"May their minds guide them forth until they see reason."
FLORET, CROWNLANDS, KINGDOM OF SOUTHSWARD
Bellamy paced worriedly within the halls of Castle Terrace. The Swalestrom family home has been used for more than a dozen generations, and the sandstone structure was small yet comfortable, neglecting the fact that the war has dimmed the hearts of Floret's inhabitants.
Her brother was diligent in his work, making sure fortresses were repaired, and that arms and supplies were transported by barge to forts on the Rems every single hour.
Her mother and Lady Ellisiv were not so sure about his talent for warfare, though they would not simply disobey Lord Becker's orders. As so-called proper ladies, the three of them did more talking than actually doing something, seeing that Southsward was at war again.
"I'm worried about your brothers, Bells." In contrast with Erlend and his cold treatment toward his wife, Anezka Baleblood had met Becker only days before they met, but they were devoted to each other - four children in the span of six seasons shall serve as a testament to that. She proved a doting mother, as all Jaysians tended to be.
"Why?" Bellamy asked with curiosity. Her three brothers may not be military geniuses, but her father trained them well. Father's seldom wrong, and all three of my brothers have their positions assigned due to strengths.
"Anything could happen in war, my dear. My father fought alongside the Parmans at Balv, and now my brother is a Trielian vassal. One single mistake can doom a realm."
"So what? Garrion and his brother's are not the sort of beasts to make mistakes. They have been trained well by their father." Lady Ellisiv Rueford was a less pacific husband than her mother-in-law, but Lord Becker needed every single drop of Dravain support against his disobedient brother. She and Lord Garrion were wed with surprising haste, but this did not stop the couple from becoming friendly towards each other, though romance was yet to come.
"You know little about war, young lady." Anezka countered. Being a senior does allow the Jaysian to circumvent 'proper' etiquette and speak in a much direct manner.
"My husband and Godred are in the process of besieging some Gates-forsaken city, Garrion is working his brain out improving fort defenses, and my youngest has been given the task of stopping the advance of the entire Trielian army. I can assure you that everything that may go wrong will go wrong, and often in the worst of fashions."
A messenger burst into the room, completely exhausted and out of breath. The three noble ladies turned to face him, and the message he brought was not good news in any sense of the word.
"Lord Somerled has trapped Lord Garrion in Fort Macolt. He is being besieged, and needs urgent help this instant."
VERNOLL, KINGDOM OF SOUTHSWARD
As was in most cases, Lady Anezka was right in more ways than one. For at the exact moment, another one of the Swalestrom brothers fared poorly against the Trielian foe.
Bedric Swalestrom did not realise something was off until it was too late. The Trielians were much less surprised to see his force, and King Garmund was cautious enough to ensure that he had brought enough beasts to withstand a Southard charge.
The young otterlord spun around, his Jaysian sabre cutting down a squirrel, then wheeled around to send a hare to his grave. His bodyguards dealt with the four other soldiers, then turned to face him.
Bedric realised that there was only one way to achieve victory. Their communication with General Ralos had been cut, mostly under the heavy fire of the Boreller crossbowbeasts and knights. Their remaining forces have been largely decimated, scattered away like petals in the wind. The only solution was for King Garmund to die, and the mouseking's location was known to all on both sides.
He still had about four hundred beasts under him, and they will obey his every order. Southsward was everything to them, and they will gladly follow him into battle.
"Soldiers, we have lost many beasts of our own. But if we make one last charge, King Garmund will be in our paws, and Southsward will be saved!" His encouraging speech was met with cheers, and they moved up the hill where the Trielian camp was.
Closely packed, the valiant soldiers of the Otterguard broke apart the defenses of the camp easily. The enemy never expected a strike so close to home, as the majority of the Trielians were busy routing General Ralos' forces off the battlefield.
Bedric slammed his sabre's hilt into a mole's stomach, and finished him off with a falling slash. King Garmund was close, and the young lord knew that. 'King' Somerled's forces were busy making their way towards Floret, and were absent from the battlefield. Garmund would surely regret the decision to send him away.
What Bedric did not expect was the fact that King Garmund was ready for battle. With heavy armour and an imposing battleaxe, he was terrifying even for a mouse. When he knew of the attack (too late for him to call back his army), he immediately flung himself into the thickest part of the melee, hewing down Southard after Southard.
Duke Altayras Burelas was alongside the king, which added a problem to the Otterguard's commander. At least their Otterguard remains nowhere to be seen, which was a good thing.
An arrow nearly buried itself within Bedric's snout, causing him to look back and make a break for the archer. A single slash later and he was no more. Jaysian sabres are weapons of high calibre, especially when made without high quality steel - one of the many disadvantages of the insular subkingdom.
Bedric spied a squirrel clad in black and white from behind, pulling his spear out of a fallen Otterguard soldier, and quickly wheeled around to face him. Duke Altayras wore his family's colours for the first time in battle, but the otter was able to recognise him, even if his face was veiled by his visor. He did not go unnoticed, and the young Boreller duke raised his spear in a defensive position.
If your foe builds up a defense, it is imperative to break it apart. Bedric still remembered the words of his father, who served as one of his battle instructors. I'll take my memories with him to my grave alongside this irksome squirrel!
The young otterlord quickly prepared an agile stance, then advanced from the right, and awaiting the inevitable counterattack.
The squirrel quickly stabbed forward, hoping to impale his foe from the front. What he did not know was the fact that Bedric predicted such a move - his father taught him that too. Spears are used for controlling the distance of an enemy. Wrench that control away from him, and he will be helpless.
He simply stepped to the left, leaving Altayras' spear dangling at a long-evaded opponent. Bedric slid through the spear's reach and struck, forcing the Trielian duke to step back to evade - dropping his spear in the process. Now facing an unarmed foe, Bedric smiles as he moved in for the kill.
At least until a shadow barrelled into him.
Bedric fell down and stood up, only to witness an advancing mouseking. Garmund of Triel was already terrifying, bloody battleaxe and all. But armour and axe were not the only things stained in crimson, as his eyes glowed with a deepest red.
The young otterlord could see the remaining part of his father's Otterguard being slaughtered left and right. The Trielians were never thrown into even the slightest bit of chaos during his ill-fated assault.
The mouseking charged at the otter, axe raised and screaming. Not screaming a battlecry, just pure, unadulterated screeching. Bedric was not paralysed by his fear, overwhelming as it might be. He spun leftward and dodged his blow, and attempted to parry his horizontal strike. His weapon being only a mere sabre, it simply could not withstand the immense force of the axe. It simply shattered under the impact.
The otter tried to escape to a better position, but a spear through the neck ended these plans. It never took long for Altayras Burelas to steady himself, pick up his spear, and charge at the king's opponent with haste.
Lord Bedric Swalestrom perished in battle at the age of nineteen seasons, and Southsward's hopes of delaying Triel has died with him.
For now, at least.
A/N: Now the action finally picks up! Southsward has suffered its first real defeat due to proper Trielian planning, and Lord Becker will definitely attempt to avenge his son and his beasts once he hears of this loss. But plans were made, and they could not be broken as easily.
The road to Floret is open, but Bedric bought the Southards time to prepare themselves. They will be ready, and heroes of another story will soon appear.
We will go back to the Parmans and more politicking in the next chapter. Battles are not really common in Renaissance warfare, due to the increased value of sieges, so I won't be writing many battle scenes. That said, I'll always try!
Chapter 8 (Weight of the World) will be out on 5/6 June!
P.S. Allegiances are now up on the Redwall Abbey Community Forum!