An encampment had been set up, next to the river separating the dukedoms off Gorlark and Smithien. The river of Fallian was quite large and deep, and had marked the natural border for centuries. It came from the mountains at the east of the Gorlean Peninsula, and finished in the Westoth sea in the West.

The camp had been set up to guard the bridge, and more than a hundred soldiers were constantly on the watch. Traders had increased trouble trying to come through, and preferred using the Westoth and Northern seas to carry on with their business.

The soldiers had helmets of steel in finishing in a point. The helmet protected the nose and had swan wings that protected the cheeks. A chainmail hanged on it and fell around the neck, protecting it while remaining flexible. The rest of their bodies were covered in chainmail and boiled leather, with increased protection at the lower arms and shoulders. Most of them were carrying long spears, sometimes with small axes in their belts and they had small steel round shields.

A dozen of those soldiers were standing guard at the bridge. They lazily leaned on their spear and were talking. A banner could be seen towering above the camp, with a sky blue swan with its wings spread on a white background.

From the muzzling camp, a knight rode over to them. He stopped before them and took off his helmet, revealing a young man in his mid-twenties. At this point the soldiers had all ceased talking and stood straight.

“Soldiers of Smithien! Are you guarding the bridge?” He shouted. They all responded positively. “Then why did I saw you being anything else than watchful!” The soldiers anxiously looked at each other. The young knight opened his mouth again, but an arrow suddenly slammed into his open mouth. With a gurgling sound the knight scratched at his throat while blood flowed out of his mouth and he slowly fell out off his saddle.

The soldiers just stared at him dumbfounded until more arrows began raining over them, and they began shouting for alarm. One of them tried to grab for a horn on his belt, but an arrow hit him in the knee and he fell down with a scream. He still managed to blow in his horn, until he saw horsemen. At the other side of the bridge, knights were coming at full speed to cross the bridge. He desperately got on his good leg to limp away from their path, but they reached him before and he was cut down by a swing of a war axe.

At the camp, dozens of soldiers and knights on foot were now grabbing weapons and running towards the bridge, only to be met with arrows and mounted heavy knights. Most of their long spears slid off the plate armor of the knights, without finding an opening, and they were quickly thrown down and killed, some trampled down by the horses other simply cut down. A knight on foot inside the encampment were screaming orders, trying to regroup his soldiers behind the defensive pikes stabbed into the ground.

“It’s a Gorlean attack! Rally behind me!” He was shouting, with more than half a hundred soldiers around him.  “Archers!” twenty-one soldiers with powerful longbows stepped forward and knocked their arrows. When the enemy knights approached, the commander shouted and they loosed.

The arrows slammed into the knights, killing horses and injuring men. The plate armor was pierced through by the longbows and the knights fell screaming to the ground. But behind the knights, many Gorlean foot soldiers now charged with short spears and axes and war hammers. The archers loosed a few volleys of arrows which decimated their first lines before they drew their weapons and charged the enemy, with the rest of the force.

The enemy soldiers were armored in a similar way as the Smithien soldiers, but with a round helmet that didn’t cover the nose or the neck but was more sturdy and easier to make. Neither of the helmets could take a direct and heavy hit unfortunately.

A bloody melee began, with blood coloring the ground red and fighting and fallen warriors screaming and crying. War hammers were the most efficient in such a melee, as they crushed bones and skulls, and made huge dents in plated armored knights which could cause heavy damage to the man in it. War axes and short spears could get stuck in a enemy body and rapidly cause your demise.

As the slaughter continued, the Smithien were slowly being pushed back. They were outnumbered, as more Gorlean soldiers joined the fray. Both sides left a trail of death behind them as the Smithien warriors were dropping in number and desperately fighting for their lives. Their commanding knight took a heavy blow to the head, which was protected by his barrel helmet, but he still fell to the ground. The last soldiers turned their back and tried to run away but most of them were cut down, the last ones surrendering.

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The screams of the injured echoed and the smell from their excrements was horrible. A few battered knights were held captive by the Gorlean, and they were quicly stripped of weapons and armor. The pits for the dead were being dug and the enemies injured were quickly killed off, as well as theirs who had low to nonexistent chances of survival. The others were carried inside of the tents for further treatment.

And a new flag was hoisted. It represented an orange sword in a red fire, on an orange background.

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“I should be with them.” Cadell said. He was nude, and lying in a sumptuous bed in a big bedroom. Next to him there was a beautiful woman, who has lying on her side, with her generous breasts pressed against him. With her finger she was slowly tracing the contours of the young man’s muscles on his torso. 

“No. You’re one of my personal knights. Remember, I convinced my husband to make me a guard, in case of an enemy ambush or something....” She said.

“I know. But the fighting has begun; apparently the Smithien has ambushed one of our patrols. The Duke is riding with our army towards the Oldrock Bridge.” He said with closed eyes, enjoying the feeling off her breasts and caress. She smirked as he said it. “And I’m here, sleeping with his wife.” He opened his eyes slowly, looking at her.

She raised herself and rested on her elbows. “We have already gone through this talk.” She said while looking at his eyes. “But, that’s not what’s bothering you. “

“What about Tarold? Why are you keeping him here? He’s fifteen years old now, a brilliant magician and I don’t know how but he can sometimes win over me in a straight duel.” He said. Then he smiled. “That little monster.”

“He stays. I have plans for him.” She said while laying her head on his arm, and closing her eyes.

“Yeah, you said that a few years ago too.” He unraveled himself from her, to her displeasure, and got out of the bed. “Are you planning to bed him too? Or are you just keeping him around?” The little boy had grown up to be very handsome, though his hair had gotten a stripe of black amongst the platinum blonde hair and his eyes were totally green now. He had claimed it was because of his magick. But Cadell suspected it was because of the mark.

She narrowed her eyes. “Come back, right now.” He hesitated, but then he obliged, and laid himself next to her again.

Her hand slowly crawled over his hips and ended on his manhood. “You know you’re the only one for me. My husband is a duty, an obligation.” She said while approaching it.

Cadell felt his desire and manhood arise, as she began taking him in her mouth. He knew it was wrong. He had always known. But he really enjoyed it, and he liked her, and… How was he supposed to say no against the duchess?

Every single outcome he had imagined would result in his death or exile from Gorlark, if he ever went against her. It was only because she was the duchess that he slept with her. As he tried to convince himself, his hand unconsciously moved towards the back of her head, to make her go faster.

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Please point out any mistakes.