Truly Dún na Rí was not made for defence, much of which was placed firmly in the hands of the forest and the environment rather than its own structures. Fortunately the men’s camp had no siege machines with them so deep into the forest. From the scouts in the treetops and the Faeres ranging above it seemed the men would place their faith in the war ladders and hope to overcome the Druaidíi using the weight of their numbers. The 16ft walls would not prove a great obstacle as such and Ardgal knew defending their position here would be costly and severe. Ardgal stopped smoothly stepping backwards as a group of young Druaidíi came rushing forth with extra fortifications for the Great Door. It was essential that they keep the men from forcing their way in headfirst. The entire community was abuzz with activity. Ardgal was pleased by that at least. It would keep their minds off the mornings events.
For the older veterans of the Land and even Empire Wars it was a demoralising Battle where they had been forced into a retreat, giving a timely boost to their attackers, yet a battle was just that, a battle and it would not decide the war. Though they had been forced into retreat they had managed to inflict many losses to the men and the surprise frontal attack had worked. In the beginning at least.
The loss of any Druaidíi was difficult in a population so close and connected. That they had allowed their brothers and sisters to become trapped and slaughtered was not an easy pill to swallow.
However the men, the Milesians in particular, had proved extremely well organised and even from an unfavourable position had proved themselves more than able to re-adjust and to retake the initiative. Of course Ardgal understood and felt too the frustration, anger, and disappointment but his mind was already looking ahead to the next engagement.
It was Dagda and the other younger Druaidíi warriors he was most worried about. Tasting your first defeat was never easy to digest, many were confused at the call for retreat, to the youngers they would have gladly kept on fighting until they could force the momentum back in their favour. Even if it meant fighting until their last breath. But wars were not won by such means.
Ardgal’s ears pricked as he picked up footsteps making their way up from the stairs. Michaél emerged from the darkness and made his way towards Ardgal, perched atop the Battlements. Though he hid it well there was a definite limp to Michaél’s left side, he had been stuck by a Milesian bolt as he hastened the others into retreat. True to character he had refused any rest or aid. Ardgal smiled in spite of himself. He and Michaél were closer than brothers and had been through a lot together. Too much. Yet their friendship remained as strong and powerful as ever. Even as their bodies began the inevitable decline.
“Hiding away from the manual labour eh?” Michaél enquired. “ I suppose someone has to keep watch.”
“I would have chosen you as a watcher were it not for your eyesight. It wouldn’t do to have you up here raising alarms to windswept branches.” He glanced down at the bandaged knee, “The Michaél I know would have spied that bolt coming from a mile away, Sidestepped and fired straight back. You're getting slow.”
“Me?” Michaél exclaimed heavy with derision, “You nearly had a heart attack after that Omen wind wall, even my ancient eyesight spied that. You know there is no pressure just because your leader to try and keep up with the youngers right? There is no shame in knowing when to quit, a good warrior sees his enemies faults, a great warrior recognises his own.”
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Ardgal laughed, “And if one can do both? I believe I may have some fight left in me yet.”
They both paused and looked out over the night forest, as peaceful and tranquil as ever. It was difficult to imagine that an invading army was tucked away just inside its shadowy embrace.
Ardgal sighed, “It was a tough lesson for them.”
“It was.”
Ardgal shook his head, “Tough but timely. Better it happened now than later.”
The sound of intense preparation and orders being bellowed out down below carried out into the night sky. Ardgal could almost feel the collective sense of anticipation, worry and lust for reprisal hanging in the air.
Michaél leaned heavily against the ramparts, “You should have called the retreat earlier. Everything changed once they injected those damn bombs into the frame. Those left trapped by the Men’s maneuver were done for the moment they re-established their line.”
He spoke plainly and harshly but Argdal was too old to get offended, indeed it was why he valued Michaél so much, no matter how close they were he never shied away from the truth, harsh or otherwise. And it was what leaders needed to hear, often more than they cared to admit.
“No matter what strategy we have or how much Omen we use many will die Ardgal, young and old, even if we win we may lose. Do not put in danger the main for a few.”
Ardgal puffed out his cheeks, “You’re right. I should have. But I did not delay out of some youthful exuberance, truthfully, it was those same Milesian bombs which held me back. They caused us far too much damage and not merely physically, they succeeded in disrupting our formations and order of attack. I would have called the retreat sooner but with the Men advancing I was slow doing so until we had managed to create some form of defensive line to retreat behind. A chaotic retreat would have left us even more exposed.”
Michaél nodded his head, “There is wisdom in that to be sure. The Milesians, they are a far different challenge to the men of Aileann. Not so fierce no, nor as skilled in hand to hand, but as a unit they are quite formidable, their discipline has my begruding respect I am galled to admit. And rather inventive too, those explosives of theirs, they are almost as effective as our own fire.”
“Indeed, it is not for nought that the Milesian Empire stretches so far. We have a rather sizeable task facing us.”
Ardgal smiled to himself, “But if it does go awry, you as my most trusted and loyal companion will be there to take the blame yes?”
Michaél gave him a sideways glance. Ardgal grabbed Michaél’s shoulder airily, a youthful smile etched on his face, “It was your tactics I trusted in and that is what led to our downfall, my only fault was that I put too much of my faith in my greatest friend and advisor.”
Michaél glanced down dismissively down at Ardgal’s hand. Shrugging it off with a chuckle he whistled through his teeth.
“Well if it does go tits up then you are more than welcome to do so. Though if you go down first I’ll tell everyone you cried the first time a Druaida kissed you.”
Ardgal burst out laughing even in spite of their current situation, “She was far too experienced and aggressive for a young Ardgal. Ahhhh enough some memories are too traumatising to recall. Come we’ve yet plenty to do, I might get you to dig another trench.”
Michaél lifted himself back up, “I’d sooner throw you into one.”
The two strode back down the courtyard, wordlessly parting to prepare once more for the Battles ahead.