AN: thanks for all the reviews, Ky111 and Ryan! Appreciate the support... Anyway chapter three is up! I hope that you like it and enjoy it as much as I did in writing it. Update speeds will likely be one chapter every two-three days.
Standard Disclaimer: anything that you recognise is not mine... It's either Christopher Paolini's or Bethesda's...
Chapter 3: The Invasion
The events that followed a week later would take everyone in the military hierarchy by complete surprise and would cost the deaths of thousands...
It all started on the 23rd of March, 1901 T.E, barely two days after Eragon and his unit had settled down in the town of Ivarstead. Late that night, well over six thousand warriors crossed into the Palancar Valley from the frozen wastelands in the North. They did so with complete secrecy and great speed, ransacking and plundering the villages of Yazuac, Rorikstead and Elkstone before midday... Even them the squadrons on the frontier remained unaware of the invading force which had managed to push further down the valley... Only excessive caution on the part of the enemy forces prevented them from reaching Windhelm on the same day. Eventually, a small scouting troop of light cavalry found the enemy, twelve miles from the same city.
That wasn't all though, several small groups of hundred men each had hiked through the outer ring of the forests of Du Weldervarden before wheeling around and attacking the Valley from the South!
Eragon's prediction of increasing complexity had been proven true beyond his wildest dreams... But he didn't have the heart of saying "I told you so."
He had received several dozens of scryed messages, reporting the latest intelligence regarding the enemy's latest movements... All in all, the messages only served to increase the confusion, painting a very chaotic image of the evolving situation.
Eragon had responded by fortifying the town further, he dug deep trenches all around the walls, putting both his men as well as the garrison to work. The residents helped to the best of their ability as well. The trenches had taken little over three days to complete and once complete, meant that the town could only be taken by a serious siege by a vastly superior force. Between his squadron and the garrison, Eragon had close to two hundred men at his disposal, of whom about sixty were archers, each armed with the dreaded laminated recurve bow.
Eragon had sent out scouts to make sure that any approaching enemy forces from any direction won't take them by surprise... He has learnt the lesson of the Frontier Debacle well.
Four days in and in the complete absence of any enemy presence whatsoever, the townspeople approached Eragon, requesting him to allow them to gather more resources from the nearby forest in preparation of a possible siege. Eragon, weighing the pros and cons of the suggestion, relented and allowed the people to send out foraging parties to the nearby forest to hunt for food and wood, but always under the watchful guard of twenty heavy infantry.
On the seventh day since the Invasion, that is, on the 30th, Eragon's scouts found an enemy infantry formation, s hundred strong, six days march away from their location. The enemy did not have any siege weapons of any description and Eragon felt sorely tempted to let the enemy come and break their strength against their fortifications, but deemed out too risky... Instead, he decided to preemptively attack them with his heavy cavalry at a location of his choosing... Worst case scenario would be that he would have to withdraw to the safety of his walls, but even then at least he would get a measure of the enemy and perhaps weaken them as well.
The next morning, all forty heavy chevaliers rode out of walled town heading south with the determination to meet their elusive enemy in battle and crush them.
They travelled quickly, heading south west along the Edda river towards the clearing known as Greenspring Hollow- a site of an ancient battle between the elves and the dragons. The land had been so thoroughly drenched in magic and fire that nothing bigger than grass ever grew there. The scouts had confirmed his suspicions that the enemy would seek to camp there for the night. Eragon planned to confront them before they could encamp.
It was perfect terrain for a cavalry charge- light rolling hills, woods surrounding the two mile wide circular area, tall waist high stalks of cottontails growing all around the edges.
Eragon positioned his men in a depression behind a gentle hill. The enemy soldiers would be marching in from the exact opposite direction... Thus, it was of critical importance that they did not see his forces to early or else they could easily take shelter in the woods, making things much more difficult. Eragon knew very well that he was outnumbered by more than two one, but he didn't let that worry him to much... Deployed properly, in the right terrain, his chevaliers could take on three to one odds and still win.
Eragon and his men settled down for a long wait, he figured that they had atleast six hours in hand before the enemy made his appearance. So, they watered and fed the horses- light meals- to keep them from being weighed down before the battle... And the men themselves relaxed as much as they could, partaking of light meals and checking their weapons and armor.
Eragon called over his officers to go over the most likely battle plan. Someone suggested splitting up their forces into two halves, keeping twenty men to charge from the front and ten men to attack from either flank. Eragon had already considered that course of action and had summarily rejected it- it would be foolish to split up his forces when faced with a numerically superior opponent. By the end of the meeting, they were able to chalk outa half baked plan of attack... final touches would be given only after the enemy's formations had been observed.
They had arrived long before midday and by the time the enemy arrived, emerging slowly from the shadows of the woods beyond, it had already been close to sunset. The enemy was marching in a square formation- ten men wide and ten men deep, singing out a war song of some sort in a rough and guttural language that was gibberish to Eragon. Drummers kept cadence, their loud, rhythmic percussions giving the whole affair a distinctive military bearing.
Eragon was most impressed... These were clearly men of the lands beyond their frontier, their physique and language were distinctive and easily recognizable, but these were no wild men whom Eragon had so easily slaughtered during his stint at the frontier... No, these were professional infantry, marching in disciplined formations, bearing serviceable weapons and round shields and donning chain mail armor with thick steel skullcaps and flat helms. 'Thank the Gods that they have no pikemen or we would be in serious trouble,' Eragon thought as he observed the enemy march ever closer to their position. He was lying on his belly, perched on top of the hill.
He waited till the infantry had covered a third of the distance between them before quickly descending to where his own men waited, already mounted. They could all easily hear the loud raccous singing and the steady cadence of the war drums. The men were nervous, heck, he was nervous... This would be their first time in combat against a disciplined enemy. Eragon mounted his faithful destrier, Roheryn, and turned her about to face his men.
"I have never, ever lied to you, my brothers, and I will not begin doing so now. We are, for the very first time, facing a determined and disciplined enemy who has had the gall and the skill to invade our homeland! They have made the decision to attack, to snatch away our lands and to kill our families... Listen to them, singing raccously, anticipating the pleasures and war bounty that lie ahead... Remember the horrors that we have heard of what befell Yazuac, Elkstone and Rorikstead! Remember our fallen! This evening, we avenge them!"
The men roared as one and Eragon was grateful for the enemy's war song and war drums. They had drowned out his men's cheers.
They moved up, scaling the low hill to stand in four rows, each ten men wide. The first two rows were one group, the next two, another. In each group, the first row carried lances while the second row carried swords. Both groups would charge one after the other, with a five count delay between both charges.
As soon as all of his men had formed up, Eragon gave a sharp nod to his trumpeteers. The two men raised their instruments to their mouths and gave a long winded clarion call, drawing the attention of the enemy whose singing and drumming ceased. Eragon couldn't help but smirk, before donning his full face helm and raising his lance...
"Forward!," he roared and all twenty horses of the first group moved ahead, transitioning quickly to a trot.
The enemy appeared to be terrified into indecisiveness before with a shout, bunching up together into a tight circle. 'Amateurs,' Eragon found himself thinking, 'bunching up makes you that much more easier a target.'
They trotted until they were about three hundred yards away and Eragon kicked his horse's flanks, urging Roheryn to a full gallop, "CHARGE!", he roared and his men cheered, following him.
Ten lances descended from their vertical position until they sure m were angles slightly downwards. The men were at full gallop now, the thunder of the shod hooves of forty warhorses drowning out all other noises.
He could almost see the terrified faces of the enemy soldiers and his smirk widened. He knew very well just how fearsome his cavalry must appear to the enemy, decked out as the men and horses were with the finest steel plate armor and with the setting sun painting them a blood red... They must appear as a vision from hell itself!
Fifty paces, and the infantry was shifting uneasily, clearly frightened of the thundering cavalcade.
Thirty paces, and some of the rearmost soldiers gave a loud yell before running for the trees.. The trickle swelled into a full flood as all hundred infantrymen routed, running full tilt for the distant trees.
It was a complete massacre as the heavy cavalry fell upon the running infantry, slaughtering every last one of them, destroying the unit completely and riding away with barely a scratch.
The Battle of Greenspring Hollow became quickly the stuff of legends among the soldiers of Palancar Valley and Eragon found himself promoted to senior Tribune, in command of three full turma or two hundred and ten men. The first full cavalry cohort! He based his forces in Ivarstead and was responsible for the protection of all approaches from the Brodding Kingdom.
Several more battles took place in the Northern frontier. The Shru'utugal had attacked the forces besieging Windhelm-causing great devastation among enemy ranks, forcing them to withdraw. A surprising aspect of that battle was the revelation that the enemy had a decent supply of powerful spellweavers. Not very strong, but enough to cause no slight amount of trouble.
The tide was slowly turning... Legate Cicero, in a missive to Eragon had informed him that some twelve thousand enemy soldiers had invaded their territory... The number was a great shock... They didn't know that they many people even lived up there! The elves had mobilised their forces and had effectively sealed off the forests, killing and capturing some two thousand soldiers who had been waiting to attack Palancar Valley from the south. I'm addition, twelve pairs of dragons and riders had joined the war against the invaders, greatly relieving the pressure on the beleaguered forward deployed cavalry regiments. The Great Invasion of 1901 was for all intents and purposes, over.
But one last great, history making event was about to occur and it works overturn our newly minted Tribune's life forever...
Another minor cliffhanger... I couldn't resist... So, like it? Hate it? Review and tell me about it...!