A/N

I probably should have found something happier to write about considering it's the holiday season... oh well, nothing says Merry Christmas and Happy New Year like a little blood and gore.

Oh, and one little detail: A palfrey is a horse with an exceptionally gentle gait described as an amble instead of a trot. It is not a warhorse, but it is much easier to ride than a normal horse (that is what Adam will be riding on marches, since he is not very good at riding horses).

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Everything is copyrighted.

Chapter 23

This is War

Ike led the first wave of soldiers through a storm of arrows as they rushed towards base of the wall, their shields held high above their heads. Tor Garen was enormous, standing over sixty feet high, and it stretched out for almost a kilometer along a low ridge between the arms of two mountains. Its walls were lined with archers, it towers adorned with catapults and ballistae, and the defenders unleashed a storm of arrows and artillery fire on our soldiers as they advanced. Many fell in those first moments, but like an unstoppable tide they charged on, following Ike straight to the base of the wall. Longbowmen moved up behind them, raking the walls with arrows of their own and providing the infantry some relief from the barrage. Ladders were raised, grapples thrown, and barely three minutes into the engagement our men were scaling the wall.

I was fully equipped for battle, wearing a coat of light mail over padded leather, with a forest green surcoat bearing the heraldry of the Royal Knights. I was even mounted on a palfrey, a riding horse that had little use in battle but kept me from looking ridiculous next to the other mounted knights, but despite all my new equipment I could not join the fight. Tellian tradition dictated that a ruler must always be surrounded by his or her retinue of knights; this post was supposed to be an honour, but the shame of sitting safely in the back while all my friends were out there was unbearable. I was not the only one, either. Astrid's bow emitted a faint hum every time she plucked the bowstring, Marcia openly groaned every time she saw a ladder fall, and Keiran complained bitterly that his eternal rival Oscar was out there hogging all the glory. Even Elincia showed signs of restlessness, her sword hand constantly opening and closing and occasionally moving back to brush the hilt of her sword, a blade she was not likely to bloody if Ike had his way. Trapped by our duty, we could only sit and watch.

"The assault goes well, Your Grace," the reserve group's commander informed the princess as we watched the battle unfold from the safety of a nearby hill. "Daein cannot stand against the might of the Empire."

"Many men are dying," Elincia said, her voice tense and worried as her eyes focused on the section of the wall where Ike was leading the assault.

"Well of course they are. These losses are acceptable-"

"Commander!" I interrupted, seeing the horrified look on Elincia's face. "Some quiet, if you will." He glared at me, but held his tongue.

Along the western side of the wall several Daein flags had already been torn down as the attackers swarmed across the battlements, but to the East it looked like Daein was still holding strong; several ladders had been thrown down there, and arrows still flew from the eastern towers. A messenger, one of the few pegasus knights accompanying the army, came flying in from that direction.

"General Ike has ordered the reserves to assist in the East," she said breathlessly to the commander I'd just offended. The man nodded to one of his men. That man raised a flag, and a group of one hundred spearmen split off from the reserves and moved in to reinforce.

"Sir Adam!" Elincia suddenly called. With some difficulty I turned my palfrey, Bob (Marcia said Bob was a stupid name for a horse, but what did she know? Bob certainly didn't object), and rode closer to my liege.

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"I care not what traditions I violate. As a ruler I should be present on the battlefield, and since Lord Ike has forbidden me from doing that you will represent me on the eastern flank," she ordered firmly, but let a smile crack through her formal facade when the Begnion commander wasn't looking.

"With pleasure, my lady," I replied. I mouthed a thank you to her, then slid out of my saddle and handed Bob's reins to a nearby page. As I jogged off to join the reinforcements I heard Elincia send the other three knights to different parts of the battle as well, but she had to remain on the hill, surrounded by several of Commander Tanith's Holy Guards. I appreciated what she'd done, but I did not envy her.

The unit marching east had Duke Numida's heraldry emblazoned on their crimson armor, but luckily they appeared to have nothing in common with their rotund lord. At the head of their column was a man so tall he would have dwarfed every man there even without his high, plumed helm. The captain held a huge metal shield that probably outweighed me in one hand, and a heavy, leaf-bladed spear in the other. His men held tight, disciplined ranks, and moved at a steady jog that left me wishing I had ridden Bob to catch up. The captain did not slow when I reached them, and I was forced to jog along beside him as I tried to introduce myself - no easy feat in chainmail.

"Princess Elincia sent me to help," I got out, trying to hide my shortness of breath. I should have trained more in full armor.

"And you are..." the captain said without even turning his head.

"I-I'm Adam- I mean Sir Adam technically, I'm one of the Royal Knights," I answered awkwardly.

"You were with the princess when her guards betrayed her," he stated gruffly. Huh, didn't know my name would come up in the story. I can probably thank Boyd for that. "Fall in with the sergeants."

"Y-yessir!" I replied, slowing my jog to join the two veteran soldiers behind him. One of them, a square-jawed man with a shock of dark red hair sticking out from under his helmet, nudged me with his elbow.

"He likes you,"" the sergeant said quietly.

"Coulda fooled me," I answered with a doubtful expression.

"Shields up and cut the chatter," the captain barked. I brought my shield off my back and held it in the same position as the other soldiers as we stepped up our pace. A few arrows came in at us from the towers, but it seemed that most of the defenders were tied down in melee combat. We reached the ladders without losing anyone, but there were dozens of dead and wounded men from the first wave already strewn about the field in front of the wall.

I was the second person to climb the ladder, just behind the friendly sergeant, and after the long climb I clambered through a crenellation in the wall to find the captain and his two sergeants already clearing the wall of Daeins. A Daein spearman came at me, but a quick swipe of my sword deflected the spear and gave me an easy shot at his torso. The man fell, clutching his torn gut.

Just ahead, the captain was taking on three men single-handedly. A swipe of his shield opened one man's defenses and knocked another back, and the captain impaled one of them while he used the edge of his shield to crush the neck of the second. A fourth man joined the fray, charging from behind, but the captain spun around with almost leisurely ease, hitting the third man's helmet with the shaft of his spear so hard that his neck broke, then completing the turn and bashing the last charging Daein with his shield. That man went sailing off the wall, his battle cry turning into a fast-fading scream.

The wall was choked with bodies, and I stumbled over a few as I ran to where the fighting was thickest, propelled along by the flood of men behind me. This was by far the biggest battle I had ever been in, and I could hardly focus amidst the whistle of arrows, the thud of artillery and spells, and the screams of the dying. I saw a Daein bowman throw aside his weapon and draw a small axe, but I didn't realize he was coming for me until the weapon glanced of my shield. I retaliated with an overhead cut, the blade of my sword biting through his leather armor, his collarbone, then lodging itself in his chest. I had to brace my boot against the dying man's gut to get the blade free, and then I was past him, chasing the retreating Daeins into the nearby gatehouse along with the other spearmen. Our enemies fled before us, and we stayed right on their heels as we descended a staircase and exited at the base of the wall on the Daein side.

The captain called for a halt before we made it far from the wall, letting his men assemble and tend their wounds. "Let the bastards run, boys. The wall is ours!"

Now that I was behind the wall I could see that it was built on a low ridge, with the terrain sloping down sharply into a wide dale just a few dozen meters from the fortification. Swarms of retreating Daeins filled that valley, trampling their own camp in their haste to reach the safety of the mountain pass, and as I watched a horde of Begnion warriors spilled into the valley to pursue them. Even though it was a long ways off, I thought I saw a green-haired axeman leading them. I could hardly believe it; we had won, and it couldn't have been more than fifteen or twenty minutes since the assault began.

"That was too easy," the captain said suddenly, just loud enough for me and the sergeants to hear. He gestured to the routing Daeins. "Look at them all; they could have put up a much better fight. They should have."

"Maybe they knew they were outmatched," the sergeant who'd spoken to me earlier suggested.

"Would you retreat so easily if someone were invading Begnion?" the captain countered. He started to address the whole company, but was interrupted as a deep, resonating war horn was sounded from the mountain pass.

On the other side of the dale hundreds of forms suddenly appeared, longbowmen and cavalry coming out of hiding and taking positions above the retreat. Hundreds of our soldiers, Boyd among them, were right below the Daeins now, and as I watched in horror the Daeins unleashed a devastating barrage of arrows. Men fell like flies under the barrage and their screams echoed across the battlefield, only to be drowned out a second later as the Daein cavalry began their charge. The thunder of hundreds of hooves seemed to rattle the mountains themselves.

"Damn! It was all a ruse!" the captain bellowed. "Form up men! We must-"

The captain was suddenly silenced as three arrows spouted from his chest, and with a surprised gasp he collapsed. The two sergeants reacted instantly, diving to cover their fallen captain. I joined them an instant later, using the overlapping cover of our shields as protection should any more arrows come. For a few seconds there were no more arrows, and then a large, flaming shot arced down from the mountains, landing right in the midst of our group. I was left staring in bewilderment at the ineffective shot for a few instants before I realized what it was: A marker for the longbowmen across the valley.

"Incoming!" one of the sergeants yelled as the sky was darkened by a swarm of arrows.

Suddenly everyone was scrambling for cover, ducking and raising their shields. I dropped to my knees beside the sergeants as more arrows thudded into our shields and peppered the frozen ground around us. One of the sergeants cried out as an arrow got past his shield and struck him in the leg. His shield dropped for a second, and an arrow took him in the eye. My terror mounted with every arrow that struck my shield, and I very nearly suffered the same fate as the dead sergeant when one arrow hit the ground so close to my boot that it left a crease in the leather. The barrage stopped, and the whistle of arrows was replaced by the cries of wounded and dying men. After a second I lowered my shield and looked around.

The captain and sergeant were both dead, and a handful of the regular soldiers were down as well. The sound of battle drew my gaze down into the valley, and it became apparent that things had gone from bad to worse. Daein cavalry had already broken through the Begnion lines, and the routing Daein soldiers had turned and rejoined the fight. Now it was the Begnion troops who were retreating, but the faster Daein cavalry were happily ridding them down. The largest part of the retreating troops was coming to the east, making for the wall's eastern gate and their closest means of escape.

Another war horn sounded, this time to the east, and when I looked that way a chill of panic and fear coursed through me. A horde of Daein troops had snuck along the mountainside and were now rushing across the rocky terrain towards the eastern gate.

"Fuck me..." I breathed as the Daeins approached. They would cut off the retreat.

I stood still, stunned that the battle had turned against us so quickly, and my resolve weakened as the line of soldiers beside me wavered. The last remaining sergeant looked as shocked as me, staring in horror and grief at his fallen captain. A horse screamed down in the valley, and without thinking I looked down there, expecting to see yet more horrors. Instead, what I saw was a ragged line of warriors standing fast in the middle of the carnage. Somehow they were holding back the tide of Daeins so that their comrades could escape, fighting and dying but never giving an inch of ground, and at their center stood a green-haired axeman - Boyd! - his mighty swings cutting through man and horse alike and inspiring those around him. My fear melted away at the sight of Boyd's valiant stand, and with renewed resolve I straightened up.

"Dammit all, they don't stand a chance!" the last sergeant exclaimed as Daein's flanking force drew closer to the gate. The retreating Begnion troops weren't even close, but we were.

"They do if we hold the gate!" I countered earnestly. "We're closer than anyone else!"

"That's a lot of men..." the sergeant said as he watched the approaching Daeins. He looked doubtful for a moment, but a grin slowly spread across his face and he clapped me on the shoulder. "Let's do it!"

Together with the friendly sergeant, and with a great deal of shouting and encouragement, we got the men moving and reached the eastern gate just ahead of the Daein troops. The sergeant wasted no time arraying his men into a long shieldwall bristling with spears, as sturdy a barricade as we could get under these circumstances. The wall anchored our right flank, and the ground sloped sharply to our left; a strong position, I reminded myself as the Daeins drew closer.

"Ready javelins!" the sergeant cried. The men complied, and though some blanched in the face of the charging horde the line did not waver. Not yet, at least.

They were only a hundred meters away now. Light troops, clad in furs and leather, I noticed. Not at all what I expected from Daein, but then whoever was in command here seemed to have thrown Daein military doctrine out the window.

"Steady," the sergeant called, holding his arm up in the air. "Let them get closer."

Sixty meters away. A storm of sling bullets came in; most hit the shield wall but a few snuck through and dropped several men.

"Steady!" the sergeant called again.

Fifty meters. Another volley came in, this time with thrown axes; it was largely ineffective, but still wore on our already tenuous morale. One of the men next to me shrank back, but I seized his arm to keep him in the line.

"We can turn them back!" I yelled, forcing aside my own fear to encourage the men around me. "All we have to do is stand our ground!" Thirty meters.

"Volley!" the sergeant hollered, dropping his arm. As one the soldiers threw their javelins and dozens of Daeins fell; their comrades behind them kept going, unfazed. "BRACE!"

My eyes focused on one man directly in front of me, on his shaggy beard, young face and wild, scared eyes. His spear point scrapped against my shield and slid past while my sword cut through his furs and leather and sank deep into his exposed side; his cries of pain were joined by dozens of other dying men all around as the Daeins crashed into our ranks. I slammed the edge of my shield into the dying man's neck, but another soldier was on me before I could finish him. This one got in a swing that connected solidly with my shoulder, but my armor absorbed the worst of it. His, on the other hand, did not fare so well.

The battle raged on and on. As ranks broke down the fight devolved into a confusing melee, a jumbled morass of blood and death. At some point I lost my shield, the once-solid oak shattered by one too many axe blows, but I could not recall when. I killed, I took hits, I bled, but somehow I kept fighting, abandoning all conscious thought and surrendering completely to my training and instincts. Nothing less would suffice, nothing less would keep me alive.

Two axemen charged me. I thrust at the closest one's chest while sliding to the left; he snapped an overhead chop down at me, but my movement brought me just past the cut. The axe hit my outstretched sword instead, and I used the momentum to spin the blade over my head and slash hard into the man's head, denting his bronze helm. A quick blend drew my sword across his gut and he collapsed, and I lashed out with a kick to the next man's stomach, keeping him at bay just long enough to ready my sword. A hail of blows ensued with both of us taking minor hits, but finally I locked our weapons above our heads, tore my dagger from its sheath and stabbed up under his ribcage and into his heart.

A strangled yell came from right behind me and a heavy weight bumped against my back. I whirled, sword poised to strike, but stopped myself as I recognized the friendly sergeant. We froze for a second, our weapons still held at the ready as we exchanged weary looks.

"Behind you!" the sergeant yelled, and pushed me aside as he attacked someone out of my sight. I saw another enemy coming for the sergeant's back, so I crouched as I rushed ahead and crashed into the enemy's legs. He fell, and I turned and drove my sword through his back. The sergeant had the shaft of his spear held under his opponent's jaw, and a quick twist left the man's head at an unnatural angle. Our victory brought little relief, though, as yet more men charged into battle.

"Not sure how long we can keep this up!" the sergeant called as we fought back to back. We'd gotten pretty far from the main body of Begnion troops and gotten ourselves surrounded. I just grunted in response as I drove back a particularly determined soldier. One of his comrades got in a jab that caught painfully on my armor, but I twisted and snapped my arm down to redirect the blade before it could break through.

Just when I was ready to rush ahead to at least die with my blade in a Daein's throat, three booming horn calls sounded over the din of battle. It was as if a switch had been flipped; suddenly the Daeins facing us lost all interest in the fight and broke off from the engagement. The sergeant and I stared at each other in bewilderment; they were beating us.

The remaining Begnion spearmen were cheering and pointing into the dale. I looked down to see Ike leading a thousand men into the valley from the West, the Daeins closest to them falling in a storm of swords while bowmen on the wall rained arrows on the Daein archers. The rest of the Daein cavalry did not even try to engage them; as one they broke off from the remnant of Boyd's line and retreated into the mountain pass with the rest of their force, leaving the dale choked with corpses from both sides. Most of the Daeins fighting us turned and ran for the mountain; the few who couldn't threw down their weapons. Ever so slowly I lowered my sword and relaxed; this time, the battle was truly over.

All around me the once pristine snow ran red with the blood of countless dead, and everywhere wounded men crawled and cried for help, but the Begnion soldiers retreating from the dale had made it through the gate while we'd been fighting; I noticed that a few stout ones had even joined our ranks. The adrenaline of battle was wearing off fast, leaving me sore and so drained I could barely stand, but despite all that I couldn't help an exhilarated grin; I'd never felt more alive.

Beside me, the sergeant removed his helm as he surveyed the battlefield, revealing short, dark-red hair, a relieved smile and a surprisingly young face. He could not have been more than three or four years older than me.

"Good fighting with you," he said breathlessly, extending one hand while he leaned on his spear for support. "I didn't catch your name, sir."

"Adam," I said between gasps while I clasped the offered arm. "And yours, sergeant?"

He grinned. "Jarod."

A/N

Heheheh. Hope that was a satisfying opening to the war. Please drop a review and let me know what you think. You know I love hearing from you. I tried to work in some of the swordwork I have been learning IRL. Oh and on an unrelated note, you must go see Frozen! It is incredible.

Review Responses

Guest #1: Okay, I'm already getting tired of calling you Guest #1, so I shall name you! From this moment forth you will be known as... Steve. Anyhoo, thank you Steve, but I am not yet a senpai. I realized when I re-read the A/N that it looks like that was some kind of permanent 'this is your student/grasshopper now' assignment. It was more of a 'you are training this guy today, make his technique better' temporary thing because there was a whole bunch of new white belts... not a senpai and kohai kind of thing.

nekuromansa000: Good hearing from you again, you always ask such wonderful questions. In this case, my choice of army size was not so much a geographic consideration as it was a political one. Simply put, Begnion has little to gain from this war with the princess still alive, and while the Apostle wants to help she does not have complete control of her country and its armies (as we see in RD). Worse yet, while Ike is a proven commander of a small company, he is not an experienced general and has never led an army to war. Therefore, it would stand to reason that Begnion would only be willing to commit a modest force. Ten thousand (plus the Senate troops) seemed a reasonable number for two reasons; first, the vast majority of Daein's troops are in Crimea, meaning that ten thousand should be enough to take care of what little remains in Daein. Second, if Ike is successful in Daein then Begnion can send reinforcements, but if he fails then they can cut their losses because they have not committed too much of their own army.

As for the size of Tellius, I had always kind of assumed it was closer in size to the British Isles or maybe Europe, but I confess that I never took the time to compare the travel times mentioned to actual places. Australia sounds reasonable. Quite a bit bigger than I'd thought, but reasonable. Heck, it's almost the same shape as Tellius.

BritRecon: Heh, and this is why I am never, ever drinking again.

Tellius Fan: I've never studied George Washington's tactics, but not to worry, I am a fan of guerilla warfare.

RequiemForNightmares: Lots of casualties in this battle, but it is the next chapter that will have the sad stuff. Yay, aftermath! *author dies inside*