Two days have past since an army nearing nearly five thousand set off from Thorne. The weather has been sodden and cold, making the roads a muddy sludge. Progress has been slow and Chambois is still another week away. The army may not arrive before Kilgar lays siege, which would make entering the city difficult. At the head of the army is Lord Jakob, Lord Talbot, The Bastard of Thorne, Wilberht and Abathea.
The heavy trudge of footsteps sound with the accompanying clatter of plate armor. Such noise boldly announces their march through the autumn woods.
Abathea, despite the cold, still wears the green dress given to her. As a gift, she preferred to finally wear feminine atire consistently. This brought much protest from Lord Jakob. But by Abathea's explanation, he relented. Abathea explained that she had concealed her chainmail and braces with under the dress. Only reaveling the silvery vambraces on her arm. With this configuration, she can dress as a lady while also being well protected although appearing a little bulkier.
While the Lords and the Bastard discuss war strategies, Abathea and Wilberht talk.
Abathea asks, “So House Canto is in the Great Plains?”
“Yes,” he replies, “The are also a primarily agricultural society.”
“Ok I see. And what of the other Houses?”
He huffs, “How many times must I explain?”
“I'm sorry, it's all very confusing.”
Wilberht sighs, “Fine. What do you know? We will start there.”
Abathea replies uncertainly, “Well I know we are here in the south in the Black Forest.”
“Yes, go on.”
“And it is owned by House Talbot. They are woodsmen, right?”
“Yes, That is correct. About seventy percent of the Kingdom's lumber comes from right here within the Black Forest.”
“Ok, and then I know House Rezel is northeast of us.”
“Yes. They are on the Orange Coast, and are settled on the mouth to the river Ree. The are mostly fishermen and shipbuilders. They have the Fortress Bastion that guards the entrance to the river. The first Northmen invasions started there.”
With sudden apprehension, she replies, “Oh, and the river Ree runs—”
He inturrupts, “From the Carpth Mountains in House Albastion through House Canto and exits in to the Grey Sea in House Rezel.
“Oh ok, but what of the other houses?”
“Well there is House Albastion, like I said in the Carpth Mountains. They are known for the Grave Mines in which most ores come from.”
Abathea inquisites, “Why are they called the Grave Mines?”
“Because more men have died in those mines than in the entire Winter Crusades. A hazardous occupation is mining. But House Albastion takes great pride in ... .maybe even a little too much.”
“Ok, and then there is House Verillion right?”
“Yes, they are the horsemen of the hills. They reside within the Rolling hills of Chord.”
“We are at war with House Verillion arn't we?
“Unfortunately yes, Lord Kilgar currently rules House Verillion.”
“I see, and what of House Mortis?”
“They live within the Smoldering Plains. You see with most of their land being desert, they have only a few settlements.”
“I heard they were excellent glass makers.”
“Yes, they have the best there is.”
“Do we fight them too?” Abathea asks.
“Yes, they have sided with Kilgar.”
“And what of House Hammond?”
“They live in the lower marshlands just south of the River Ree. They specialize in clay making.”
“Aren't they sided with Kilgar too?”
“Yes, actually House Hammond is laying siege to Bastion. House Rezel is attempting to hold them back from crossing the river.”
“So House Rezel is our allies then?”
“Well not exactly. They have yet to declare alliance with the crown, instead opting to protect their sovereignty.”
“Ok, I think I understand.” she says. After a moment, she asks, “And what of House Wren.”
Wilberht's face tightens, he answers, “House Wren resided in the Stone Dark Mountains just north of Verdinani.”
“What happened to them?”
Wilberht stutters, “I… .I do not know, I was not present.”
“And Lord Jakob is all that remains?”
“Yes, the House capital of Acre was razed to the ground.”
Abathea, curious, “Who did it?”
“I do not know.”
Abathea then asks, “And what of the Brethren Rangers? You are a Ranger right?”
“Yes, I was formally a Ranger. You see, House Wren was very pious. And also they fought the most during the Winter Crusades.”
“Ok,” Abathea utters, confused.
Wilberht continues, “The Brethren Rangers were formed as a monastic organization during the Crusades with the purpose of aiding and serving the Wren Family.”
“Monastic?”
“Yes, the Rangers reside in their monastery on Pikes's Peak. They are sworn to celibacy, poverty and servitude.”
“But I understood them to be excellent warriors?”
He states, “They are. They fought in many battles during the Crusades.”
Abathea ponders, then asks, “Where were they when House Wren fell?”
“It is by my understanding that many Brethren Rangers were felled defending the House.”
“What are they doing now?”
“They have opted to remain in their monastery, choosing to continue worshiping The Great Lord of Heaven instead of dealing with the Kingdom’s politics.”
“Is that why you left?”
Wilberht utters simply, “Yes.”
Before Abathea can respond, a voice calls for her, “Abathea!”
She turns to look and sees a lone short woman pushing through the soldiery.
Abathea, surprised, calls, “Mairye?!”
She rushes to her, Abathea asks, “What are you doing her? You were supposed to remain in Thorne.”
She replies, “I was given permission by Lord Talbot.”
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Abathea then states, “You know this will be dangerous right?”
“Don’t worry my Lady, I'm no stranger to danger. Also I brought these.” Mairye says, revealing two loaves of sourdough bread.
Abathea's eyes widen and a smile comes across her face.
After a few hours of marching through cold mud, Abathea and Mairye kept themselves warm through conversations of gossip.”
“So this Bastard of Thorne is really the illegitimate half brother of Lord Talbot?”
Mairye nods saying, “Yes but since he is a bastard he cannot inherit the throne. It will be passed to Talbot's son Sontries.”
“Was that the boy across the table from me?”
“Yes, I heard he was making quite the eyes at you,” Mairye states grinning.
Abathea blushes and commands bashfully, “Mairye stop it!”
The two share a laugh together.
Within a week's time, the army has left the Black Forest of House Talbot and now marches across the Great Plains. Also during that time, news has reach the Lords that Kilgar army has reached Chambois and is laying siege. Such dreaded news drastically alters the plans for defending the city. And with the Lords’ army of only five thousand, they have no chance of defeating Kilgar's far larger army in battle.
Scouting ahead is Lord Jakob, Lord Talbot, the Bastard of Thorne, and Wilberht. They hide amongst a small hill which gives them a vantage point over Kilgar army and the river city of Chambois.
In the bright sunny daylight, they can observe the enemy constructing their siege engines, while multiple tents camp around them.
Beyond that is the ancient river fortress city of Chambois. As an island set in the middle of the river, it possesses two drawbridges. One in the south bank and one in the north bank. With both of the exceptionally large bridges drawn up, there is no way of crossing the river without great difficulty. The river Ree, is set low flowing in a deep canyon. Its mighty current flows out to the Grey Sea.
The city itself is high on a plateau above the river. Its steep cliffs drop sharply to the waters below. With tall reinforced walls, this makes any significant attempt to scale them difficult by account of the river. The city possesses several strong battlements and the Great Keep of Meredith on the east side. The city itself would be able to last a lengthy siege, proof being it never fell during the Winter Crusades. Albeit this time is different, never has it seen the likes of so many siege engines.
The Bastard remarks, “There is no entry by this way. Kilgars forces have blocked the Southern Bridge. Even if we could pass them, there is no guarantee that they would even lower the bridge for us to pass.”
“I agree,” says Lord Talbot.
Wilberht says, “I think we should try to relieve Bastion. With a crossing there we may have better chances.”
“No,” argues Lord Jakob, “That will take to long. Bastion is at least a two week march away. If we do so Chambois will be vulnerable and the way to the capital open.”
Wilberht rebukes, “My Lord, the city with stood the Northmen during the Crusades, surely–”
Lord Jakob interrupts, “The Northmen did not possess such siege engines, nor fielded an army this large.”
The bastard interjects, “Well if you insist on suicide, what is your plan to enter the city without a slaughter?”
Lord Jakob states, “There is a river town not far down the river. If we can acquire appropriate vessels, we may be able to reach the city's docks under the cover of darkness.”
Lord Talbot disagrees, “You plan to make a night landing during a siege?!” Are you mad?”
The bastard adds, “Say if your plan might work, where would we find enough boats for five thousand men.”
Lord Jakob utters simply, “Leave that to me.”
Wilberht denounces, “I do not like this plan.”
Lord Jakob argues, “It is the best course if we are to aid the defenses.”
Lord Talbot huffs, “You may be right. But a night landing upriver will be hazardous.”
The Bastard adds, “Less hazardous then trying to pass by Kilgar's army. Plus we will have the cliffs to conceal us.”
Lord Jakob declares, “Then it is decided. We will sail up the river at nightfall and make landing. With the blessings of the Great Lord and the god of war Aptosis, this will succeed.
After a many hours' march, the army comes across a small cargo village called Chambri. There it possessed a suitable passage down the canyon to the river's surface. After much discussion, Lord Jakob convinced the town mayor to release the village’s shipping barges as well as the ones that escaped Chambois.
By the fall of a moonless midnight, an army of five thousand set down the river Ree. Set about in large barges that can hold three hundred men a piece, a large flotilla of ships rows silently down the river.
If they can make it to the western docks of the city, they may be able to gain entry without casualties. With Kilgar's army still laying besieging Chambois, and an army far exceeding their own, stealth has become of utmost importance.
Lord Jakob, Talbot, and Wilberht, are in the first barge. With the intent to organize the landings, Lord Jakob wishes to be the first to reach the docks. The large, flat barge's design was intended to ferry cargo. But now the imposing wooden structures hold hundreds of men crammed together atop of wooden creaking boards.
The Bastard of Thorne, Edwulf, Abathea and Mairye are in the middle of the convoy. Separation from the Lords was preferred in case of an accident.
The river is calm and the night cold. There is a fearful tranquility about the night. As they approach their destination, the silence grows louder. None dare to move much less breath for fear of being discovered. Trapped on the barges, the fledgling army can be easily decimated. The silence is so much that only the creaking of the wooden barges can be heard and even that is far too loud. The darkness inhibits vision only to a few yards.
Abathea had never seen such silence or felt such fearful anticipation. With every wooden groan she is terrified they will be found out. Her heart races with nervous tension, her head spins dizzily.
Hundreds of men must feel the same because there is no gayly speaking as before, not a word uttered by anyone. A whole army silently sailing in the night.
Then Abathea hears loud cracks like distant thunder. It is as if it is the sudden crack of a whip but it is exceptionally loud and numerous. It sounds like many whips cracking but at different intervals indicating that there is more than one.
Edwulf notices her concerned look and whispers, “Ever been in a siege before?”
Abathea, too fearful to speak, nods nervously.
He whispers again, “That is the sound of siege engines. More specifically the launchings of catapults. A great net holds the stone and when it is hurled the net snaps back creating that awful sound.”
Abathea whispers back, “Is it usually that loud?”
Edwulf chuckles slightly, “Far louder up close.”
She asks, “How many sieges have you been in?”
“Two,” he replies.
“Is the Northlands such a hostile place where that is common?”
He utters, “Yes,” as he stares ahead at something demanding all of his attention. Abathea swears that she can see the slight hint of fear in his eyes.
Not long after does she find out why. Further up the river, bright flaming green orbs float down from up high in the sky. They descend slowly and brightly illuminate the area. The lights reflect on the surface of the waters giving it a hauntingly green glow. They also brightly cast light on the barges, making the men clearly visible.
Abathea, terrified, feels naked and cast out in the open.
Edwulf informs her, “Green fire. They use it as aerial torches. This is not good.”
He then looks at her and sternly warns, “Whatever happens, do not let the flame touch you,” with a bout of worry on his face.
“Why? What happens?” she asks with deep concern.
“I pray you will not have to see.”
A lump forms in her throat, and her mouth is dry. Her chest is bound in tightness. Anxiety and fear have a full grip on her now. Soon out of the shadows, the great walls of the city appear. And she can see the docks fast approaching. The loud snapping of the catapults is so near that they sound like thunder cracks echoing throughout the night. In fact she can see Lord Jakobs barge has already landed. Men hastily disembark and hurry up the large stairs carved into the cliffside to the dock’s gates. All the while the floating orbs of bright green float down from the heavens. Some fall into the river, but to Abathea’s surprise, they do not extinguish. Instead the green balls float atop the water's surface and spew radiant flames in small arcs.
The second barge makes it to the docks, and the next wave of men disembark. Quickly they rush up the steps to the sanctuary of the city’s wall.
Then a whooshing sounds above them. A brilliant flash of light shines high in the sky. But instead of floating gracefully, the light burst into flaming green arcs that fall on to the convoy. Then horror strikes! The surface of which the flickering flames touch immediately bursts to flames!
“GREEN FIRE!” a voice cries in terror.
This prompts a panic amongst the men. Then other brilliant lights explode above them launching the arcs of green flames onto anything unfortunately to be in its path. This flame ignites anything, man or otherwise.
Abathea looks on as catastrophe falls upon them. The barge in front of them has burst into fiery green flame, engulfing all aboard it. Screams of burning men sound shrieking into the night.
Shouts and clatter of footsteps sounds as panicked men decide whether to risk drowning in the river or suffering the fiery fate of their comrades.
“Abathea!” cries Edwulf, “Stay near me and do as I say!”
Splashes sound as terrified men jump into the river only to never be seen again as their armor drowns them. Others, witnessing their allies folly, hastily discard their armor and attempt to swim to the docks.
Another brilliant burst of light and the accompanying rain of green fire falls. As soon as the flame touches a man, he is instantly ignited and engulfed. Many who suffer this fate throw themselves into the river preferring to drown than to burn. terror strikes Abathea again as the brilliant green flames dance upon the waters surface seeming unwilling to extinguish. This creates small ponds of burning flame.
The landing is in complete disarray. As more fire falls from the sky, more men desert their barges. Other barges have become engulfed into flaming green islands of floating death. All aboard them seemingly burned to death at almost an instant. Other barges collide into another, throwing the men remaining into the dark waters. Shattered wood and brilliant dancing flames occupy the water now. Violent splashes and the cries of companions sound almost to the point of drowning out the snapping of the siege engines.
Continuous and almost unending is the fire that rains from the sky.
Suddenly, another barge crashes into Abathea’s ship. The collision violently dismembers the hull and throws Abathea into the water. With a gasp she emerges from the icy cold water to absolute chaos. Men everywhere, either burning, drowning or attempting to swim, surround her. She paddles frantically to keep herself afloat. Terror grips her fiercely, never in her life has she been so afraid.
She cries out “Edwulf! Mairye!” as the river rushes to drown her.
She coughs and gags as the murky dark waters find its way into her mouth. The pandemonium is great, as great plums of smoke rise above the river. With multiple barges on fire, great black clouds hold high above the carnage. The frantic splashes of drowning men compete with the crashing of the barges and the roaring crackle of fire. More flames burst from the sky and rain green flaming death.
Abathea struggles to tread water while the river current seems to drag her under. “Edwulf!” she cries out.
A figure approaches her in haste.
“Abathea! Come do not stop swimming!” Edwulf commands.
Though only partially relieved, she inquisites, “Where is Mairye?!”
“I don't know! Come, we must make haste!”
She follows him through carnage and flame. She desperately tries to hold her head above water while following Edwulf. Though she is cautious to avoid the still burning flames atop the water. Passing by shattered wood and the floating charred bodies. The river is awash with death and destruction.
Great is the commotion at the docks as survivors attempt to pull themselves from the river. Hundreds of men attempting to stay afloat, violently stir up waves. This upheaval greatly rocks Abathea as she struggles to propel herself forward. Now not only must she keep from drowning, but also compete with other men clamoring aboard the docks.
“Make way for a maiden!” commands Edwulf as he grunts to swim.
None take heed, instead those atop the gang planks of the dock extend a hand to those in the water. Reaching out and pulling as many as they can to the safety of the docks.
Abathea approaches the planks, and a man, though with horrified expression, reaches out to her. As she is about to take his hand, the sudden wisp of an arrow flies past. He pauses, struck mortally, and falls apon Abathea. This plunges them both deep in the waters depths. She struggles to break free, holding her breath desperately as she sinks further. The man's body sinking them rapidly. Her heart races with terror, her mind fears this will be her end. She struggles and writhes but by Atopsis mercy, she manages to free herself and rise to the water's surface.
Returning topside, she gasps for air, drawing a deep breath. She finds even more carnage here than before. Now arrows fall upon those on the gang planks and in the water. Wounding and killing many further unfortunate survivors. Bodies float lifeless in the water and stricken men lay dying on the docks. The groans and cries of anguish are a great many and terrible.
“Abathea!” a voice cries out.
She looks and sees Edwulf atop the gang plank, eyes searching the water frantically.
“Edwulf! I'm here!” she calls back, her body almost too exhausted to go on.
“Come quickly Abathea!” he commands.
She races to swim toward him, her body aching and beyond exhausted. Every paddle feels as in climbing a steep mountain. She almost wishes to stop and allow herself to drown, with that she would at least be free from the horrid carnage of the night. But with Edwulf’s encouragement, she draws her remaining strength to continue.
Arrows fall in volleys on to the docks, and the archers on the walls return fire. A crossfire of arrows, some flaming and some not, arc above.
Edwulf reaches and grabs Abathea’s hand, stating, “Come! This is no place to die!”
With Edwulf’s aid she clammors on to the gang planks but she is not safe yet. Blood and bodies are strewn across the docks and arrows still fall.
Abathea cries, “ Where's Mairye?! Have you seen Mairye?!”
Edwulf denies, “I have not! Come, we must leave!”
She follows Edwulf to the grand stairs all while passing the groaning bodies. Some still alive but wounded, plead begging for aid and to not be left behind.
Abathea watches on in horror as some stricken men attempt to crawl toward the steps. They cry out, “By Edith’s mercy! Don't leave us!”
Abathea looks conflicted with pity and fear. Maybe with guilt as well.
Edwulf decrees, “Leave them, we must find safety!”
They rush up the steps, while careful not to trip on the many bodies. Atop the cliff face is a great gate in which survivors attempt to pour through.
Almost to safety, Edwulf commands, “Do not leave my side.”
But Abathea still hears the pleas of wounded men. This fills her with guilt and shame. The emotion distresses her so far as to exceed the fear for her life.
“No!” Abathea cries.
Edwulf turns with face in horror as Abathea races back down the steps to the docks of carnage.
Abathea, dashing fearful for being slayed by an arrow, attempts to offer aid. Many wounded men are strewn across the gang planks. And still many men struggle in the water.
She rushes to a wounded man, an arrow stuck in his side. She asks, “Can you stand?”
He grunts but utters, “I think so.”
She takes his hand and attempts to raise him. All the while, he screams as the arrow further tortures him. He falls back upon the ground.
He decrees, “Go my lady, my fate is here.”
“No,” she states with determination, “You must live.” She attempts to raise him again but this time he is far lighter. Then she sees why, beside her Edwulf has grabbed his other hand. Together they set him to his feet.
Edwulf commands, “Go to safety.” as the man stumbles off to the steps.
“Do you wish for death!? We need to leave!” Edwulf barks at Abathea as an arrow falls beside him.
“Aid me or leave me! But I will not abandon them!” Abathea decrees in defiance.
“They are all dead!” Edwulf argues.
“Not to me!” she rebukes.
Another and another wounded men do they visit. And on each occasion, they raise a man and set him off to the steps. Still arrows fall but not in such ferocity as before.
They go to the water's edge where few men still remain. Edwulf takes his ax and reaches with it. This prompts a few men to latch to it as he pulls them to the gang planks. Abathea reaches and pulls the soaking men from the water, though with great difficulty.
The survivors praise, “Great Lord bless you!”
Soon, Abathea will carry a man, with his arm wrapped around her shoulder. While Edwulf carries two men thrown over his shoulders. Beside the arrows falling in great thucks, the docks are quiet.
Aside from the death, the evacuation is complete as Abathea and Edwulf make up the steps with their remaining survivors.
Abathea looks back briefly for one final sight of the battle. Green fire floats on the water's surface. Burning and smashed barges coast like islands of death. Bodies float down the river, while the current has accumulated many under the gang planks.
Blood and corpses litter the docks in such a great multitude, it is surprising that none would trip and fall. A slaughter she thinks.