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546. Red Bridge | they know we are coming

  


  Sebastian ‘Oats’

  Seb/Bastian

  ‘Squire’

  Brother Sebastos

  Red Bridge | they know we are coming.

  


  -

  


  The last week of Sextus (1st month of summer), the year of the New Calendar 195, High Regent Anker Est Ravn after weeks of preparations and false starts that partially allowed his forces to cross the Red Bridge piecemeal in an attempt to remain undetected, moved against Khan Burzin Radpour.

  Baron of Greywood Castle, Sherman Grote was given overall command of the army. The Duke’s Shield (and related with the Est Ravn of Midlanor through his daughter Lady Juliet and Wilhelm, the late Mark Est Ravn’s son) assumed command of the rebuilt 3rd Foot in the field and placed it at the center of the Issir expansive front, as the High Regent’s army fanned out of Balworth River’s fortifications.

  To his west flank (Grote’s right), the Duke’s Shield placed the forces from Pastelor and Farvor under Petty Baron Dan AredRavn (a cadet house of the Est Ravn of Midlanor). Baron AredRavn had his firstborn Sir Joost AredRavn with him, 150 men-at-arms and around 300 militia from the distant Issir City. Assisting the petty Baron was his distant kin, the legendary knight out of Pastelor, the Iron Griffin himself -albeit at an advanced age by this point in time- Sir Reinir Tellman. Some of Sir Reinir’s children, like Dame Siske Tellman and Sir Rupert Tellman, had opted to follow their father, along with 120 men-at-arms, Pastelor’s militia and about 350 Nord warriors out of Sallowhall and the nearby Eleurhall (under ‘Tanned’ Odd Mayer and ‘Bearclaw’ Stein Kaasen, the latter wanted in Farvor for excessive raiding & looting. Baron AredRavn had pardoned Kaasen a month earlier.)

  Baron Dan AredRavn marched following the west coast through the wilderness aiming to reach the West Porch, an elevated position in the form of a small plateau thirty kilometers from Chinos River delta that overlooked the battlefield and Mid Bridge. From there the Baron intended to attack through the Khan’s west flank and cut off his forces from the river.

  The Khan’s strategists elected the commander of Medium Cavalry Sepa to cover the westernmost edge of their flank and the West Porch flat elevation (full name Kaphiri ‘Kap’ Sepa, meaning ‘hill’ in ancient Cofol) with about six hundred lancers. Sepa was of mixed blood, son of a Rin An-Pur horse breeder and had with him Rim-Sepa, one of his sons. Guarding the inner portion of the Khanate’s flank and tasked with keeping an eye on its center (the large paved road and white gravel, flattened area cutting through the plains) was General Muvelo. The veteran desert scouts leader out of Shao Na-Lan had a huge mounted force at his disposal. Around one thousand five hundred Horse Archers -1500- (under the young Horselord Sakir) and about 500-600 mounted, or on foot scouts, and rangers. Muvelo preferred to stay near his scouts and keep an eye out for the Issir artillery, or a large flanking force, which they expected to come up the –relatively- easier to navigate west flank. He kept back a small force of Horse Archers near the inner edge of ‘West Coast Wilderness’ for this and ordered Sakir to leave Sepa to operate on his own.

  The Khanate’s plan was to strike at the Issir advancing west flank first, push it back and then angle east to attack Grote’s infantry with an overwhelming mixed mounted force. It was obvious from this and the rest of the Khanate generals’ deployments during the battle that Lord Anker’s carefully laid plan of attack had been leaked beforehand.

  ‘It’s one thing, already plaguing difficult enough, to advance against a stronger foe who knows yer coming,’ Sherman Grote commented after the battle. ‘Quite different to do it, and not in a good way, against someone who knows yer moves to a T.’

  


  -

  Todd Smit, Sir Thor Est Ravn’s experienced valet and squire, offered Sebastian a piece of old bread soaked in wine and the young man started munching on it absentmindedly. He had his attention turned on the High Regent and his entourage, discussing the final details of the morning march with his son. Behind them and to the south, the 3rd Foot’s long rows of silent soldiers were on the move, with the slowly rising sun still a fierce red disk on the horizon and more darkness than light dominating the flats.

  “Why change the deployment?” Thor asked the sleepless Lord Anker, both of Midlanor’s nobles’ long knight-mantles wafting in the soft breeze and the deftly embroidered Ashen Hydra’s heads seemingly dancing on their garbs.

  “It was the Church’s decision,” his father replied with a glance at those milling about them. Lt. Oliver Shane of Caspo O’ Bor, Duke Rinus’ adjutant stood the nearest, but also servants, his guards and the humming a morning hymn to Uher priest Brukel. “Leave it be.”

  “Isn’t everyone vetted?” Sir Thor asked and the Duke placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

  “You can’t vet what no one living has ever met,” Lord Anker counseled. “But you can guard your tongue and keep yer mind clear for the battle to come.”

  “I can deal with the Horselords,” Thor assured him and his father touched the left side of his face with a calloused swordsman’s hand.

  It wasn’t a common sight for the Lord of Midlanor to show affection to anyone publicly.

  “Just draw them to the machines and Grote’s spears,” Lord Anker said hoarsely. “Don’t challenge the memory of Mark, or Shane. Be humble and allow your late brothers to have this over you, for they have nothing else. Midlanor doesn’t need another hero. It needs a win and I need a son to take over from me.”

  A moved Sebastian gulped down, watching as everyone around nodded their heads, but for a fiercely exotic servant girl with a comely Issir face, framed by long ashen-blond hair and sporting two bright blue eyes. The girl was staring at the squire intently.

  “Justen,” Thor tried to say, but Lord Anker stopped him with a gesture, withdrawing his hand.

  “Don’t worry about the boy. I’ve taken care of this, his future is secure. Even spoken with Joris Sloot and Kelholt.”

  Thor sighed and then glanced at the humming with his eyes closed priest Brukel. “I was going to speak with Dora.”

  “It will be prudent for gods and state, to get this over with,” Lord Anker agreed and read from a scroll a knight brought him. The knight’s mantle and armour had a scaling the walls Chimera adorning them. Sir Lennard Vulg, the knight in question, nodded at the Duke’s hushed orders and returned near Sir Hendrik Grote, who greeted the fellow Greywood Castle knight and close friend with a smile.

  “I wanted Dora to stay with her father, but she doesn’t listen,” Thor complained and the thoughtful Lord Anker smacked his lips once, afore replying to his son in parting.

  “All marriages are like that,” the High Regent rustled. “Trust me boy, it is much better for a future wife to prefer her husband’s company, than anybody else’s.”

  -

  26 to 27th early morning -to early noon

  -

  An hour later

  Morning of the 27th of Sextus

  East side of the main road between the bridges heading from the capital to Quarterport.

  Near the Issir Heavy Cavalry assembly area

  Lord Anker’s center

  The horses changed their tempo to a steady trot, and Sebastian brought the excited Skipper near Sir Thor’s and Priest Brukel’s older mounts, to hear part of their conversation. He could see the men-at-arms taking a break under the shade of a cluster of mature Maple trees, the many squires and servants running errands for the armoured riders. Colorful banners and different shields telling the men apart from each other.

  “It was Luikens idea, been talking with Brother Marcel lately,” Brukel explained, trying to straighten himself out on the saddle.

  “Brother Flucht? I thought he never left the Library,” Thor griped and extended his arm to help Brukel stand on the saddle properly. “How are they going to navigate the forest path? The west side has the better ground.”

  “The Golden Spears fixed them some, felled trees to widen the path,” Brukel replied as they slowed down even more, now less than a hundred meters from the grouped up cavalry. “Kelholt reported it to Anker earlier this morning and De Hove almost had a fit.”

  “Who do they suspect?” Sir Thor asked and attempted to stop Cinnamon with a command and a sharp tug of the reins. The horse neighed in frustration, but halted soon after, which brought the whole procession into a full stop as well.

  “Uher shall provide guidance. It could be anyone, but no one is allowed near the birds for weeks so it matters little,” Brukel replied and managed to come down from the horse without muddying his robes too-much.

  “Will Luikens pull through?” Thor queried, signaling for the men to get ready for departure. “Ten minutes gentlemen!” He barked with a smile. “Before the sun comes up!”

  “Vellers is in the woods with his Inquisitors and Sir Kosters Golden Spears knights are scouting the path up ahead. Sir Aryan Verhagen brought eight Templars of the Chain with Brother Flucht,” Brukel explained and gave the reins to Sebastian, who had dismounted in the meantime.

  The ‘Keepers of the Archivist’s Keychain’, were a small knightly order that had its barracks inside the Seat of Uher in Midlanor –the barbican-type building was a temple despite its shape- and were tasked with guarding the Grand Archive building that was located between the Seat of Uher and the Tower of Spears.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “The rest of the Order’s soldiers follow on foot with the machines through the Crimson Forest,” Brukel continued. “The idea is that the Khanate’s scouts will spot the rest of the artillery near the 3rd Foot and focus their attention there.”

  “They need to reach Vily Reb’s people at Chinos Turn,” Thor said and paused to have some water from a flask and munch on a biscuit. “Then it’s a straight road towards the bridge.”

  “There are soldiers at Sister Rita’s inn,” Brukel reminded him. “The Chariots camp nearby, hidden behind the Grove.”

  “Eh, we’ll see if we can help out,” Thor murmured and sighed spotting a rider galloping towards them from the rear. The clad in black and green leather garbs female approached directly for Sir Thor’s banner, carried by the Est Ravn’s scion’s men. “Well, bugger me.” Thor cursed as he recognized the dark-skinned redhead. Not many women had Dora’s complexion. “I’ll need another five minutes gentlemen!” He barked at his men and Sebastian turned his head to watch Dora Sloot's rather eye-catching arrival and the even more impressive manner in which she dismounted.

  -

  


  At this point –about an hour later- the squire Nelis Cobb followed by Mert ‘Greywood’ approached Todd Smit and Sebastian Oats with the spare horses, near their shaded area. They joined in a quick prayer there it is said. The cavalry had moved two kilometers forward about twenty minutes after Lady Dora Sloot had arrived. At the east side of the road and the edge of Crimson Forest, the riders had stopped again to wait for the infantry to advance. With the sun now up and heat spreading on the plains between the two bridges, staying close to the shade of the red Maple Trees was preferable for most units. Jaren’s Crossbows followed alongside two thirds of the Assayer’s artillery, with the machines –heavy Scorpios- directly behind the Heavy Cavalry (almost two kilometers). These machines were advancing the nearest –but not inside- the woods of all the units that made up the Issirs center.

  The rest of Luikens machines (twenty Deliverers) were almost five kilometers inside the Crimson Forest itself, and followed a parallel route towards Chinos River’s shores. With Luikens were the military order of the Golden Spears, both its foot soldiers-monks and its men-at-arms under Sir Albert Kosters and Sir Iwan Dinter. The infantry was led by Brother Dumont and stayed at the easternmost flank of Luikens’ machines cutting through the thicker part of the woods to widen the path. Sir Kosters had moved three hundred meters ahead of them with the horses to scout the forest route.

  Also with the Grand Archivist Wim Luikens and the large crew of the machines were a number of the institute’s (the Grand Archive was a Library and a religious university on top of a museum) officials. Amongst them several other archivists/priests like Brother Marcel Flucht –a direct descendant of late Eelco Flucht, Reinut’s famed quartermaster and academic- and some members of the ‘Order of the Keepers of the Archivist’s Keychain’, commonly known as ‘Templars of the Chain’, another military order stationed in Midlanor’s Seat of Uher. The latter were led by the knight priest, Sir Aryan Verhagen. The dressed in milk-white robes and shields knights –and similarly attired horses- were easily discernable from the golden robes worn by Sir Kosters’ riders.

  All of the above were part of Lord Anker’s east flanking move. A plunging foray through the Crimson Forest tasked with reaching Chinos Turn –a fishing port and community- at the north shores of Chinos River, ten kilometers of good coastal road from the Grove and the buildings of Rita’s Inn. Anker wanted to place riders, soldiers and artillery as close to Mid Bridge as he could –behind the Khanate’s center- in order to disrupt, or destroy their supply lines and reinforcements. Taking Chinos Turn and then Rita’s Inn –the latter less than two kilometers from the Khanate’s main camp and Mid Bridge- would destabilize the Khan’s whole front.

  In the center the dust clouds of the slow-marching 3rd Foot managed to draw most of the attention and Khanate mounted scouts quickly reported the Issirs were advancing down the road. Sir Thor Est Ravn’s Heavy Cavalry had moved up ahead of the infantry –standing closer to Crimson Forest to conceal its advance- and a kilometer further up ahead Magister Sande De Hove’s and Maas Vellers’ Inquisitors had already reached the Oaks-dominated knee-shaped part of the forest. The Inquisitors –a versatile infantry unit on horses- penetrated the woods and quickly made contact with pickets/scouts placed there by Cephas Mirpur to provide him with early warning.

  A small scrap broke out in the semi-darkness of the forested area –it was still early morning- with no side making any progress. Vellers notified Sir Thor to move his horses closer in support and Mirpur dispatched Tika-Phanti’s Cataphracts on the Khanate scouts east flank deeper in the forest, fearing the inquisitors had come from there in a flanking attack. Tika-Phanti quickly got his riders to Reb’s Trail and stopped there.

  While there was a reason the Khanate paid so much attention to Inquisitor’s Vellers’ diversionary probe and not at the advancing –albeit slowly- 3rd Foot, it was at the other flank –inside the vast west coastal wilderness- were the first proper battles of the titanic struggle at Crimson Forest begun. The Khanate historians are today calling the 2nd Battle at Crimson Forest and its bridges, ‘Havoc Unleashed’, but it is another name that has gained favor in Jelin amongst Issirs and Lorians. It is credited to Brother Sebastos. Possibly the liturgical name of the then young squire Sebastian Oats, although the Grand Archivist’s apocryphal text of the events –a small part of his ‘Decoding the Logs of the Great Exodus’ manuscript- is written from a neutral and deeply religious point of view.

  They call the more than three days, or over seventy six hours carnage, the ‘Mother of All Thunders’.

  


  -

  “There’s a rider, coming fast,” Sir Frances declared from atop his warhorse, shading his eyes with a gloved hand.

  “Follow Sir Isak,” Thor ordered him and turned to watch the young messenger arrive. Sebastian glanced that way as well, whilst helping Brukel climb his horse. The priest was a heavy man, despite his ascetic look.

  “Praised be Uher,” Brukel hummed upon making it on the saddle. “We are fast becoming alike nomads my lad, ever riding here and there these last couple of years. Or Centaurs, I suppose,” he added furrowing his thick brows, just as the messenger relayed the news to Sir Thor.

  “The Baron reached the West Porch first,” the young Issir reported. “He sent a party ahead to take the ridge but was denied by medium cavalry. The Iron Griffin rode straight for the foot of the plateau and not after the Baron, because Mayer had gotten himself in trouble.”

  He pointed the movements on a drawn map of the area, a sergeant-at-arms had produced for Sir Thor. The bearded, burly sergeant was named Linder Kloss.

  “What was Mayer doing so far away from Kaasen?” Thor grunted loudly, in order to be heard by the ruckus created by the still distant, but steadily approaching massive squares of the 3rd Foot.

  “Got tangled up with rangers in the thickets milord,” the messenger stuttered. “Mayer moved around them to hit their rear, but got attacked the moment he stepped out of the trees.”

  “Lancers?” Thor snapped.

  “Horse Archers, milord. A great many of them.”

  “Ah, this knave must be Muvelo,” Thor grimaced and stood up on the stirrups to gaze across the plains towards the west. Even with field-glasses it was too far away to see anything though and the knight sat back down frustrated. “If the lancers are Sepa’s, then the bulk of the Khanate’s fast cavalry is to the west. Sir Reinir will have his hands full.”

  “What about Cataphracts milord?” Kloss queried in a raspy voice.

  “Too-heavy to chance the uneven terrain,” Sir Thor replied and stared at Sir Frances’ riders heading for the loose gathering of giant oaks directly ahead of them. “They could navigate a tree or two though, if the ground is dry.”

  “Hmm,” Brukel murmured and Sebastian stared at the priest unsure.

  “Head back and order Jaren to get ahead of the artillery. Come near us. Move fast,” Thor told the young messenger. “Expect heavy Cavalry.”

  “Milord?” Kloss queried.

  “We’re too-neatly matched up in the field to be a coincidence,” Thor retorted sounding troubled. “Devil’s spawns. They know we are coming. Mirpur is in the woods.”

  “What does it mean?” Sebastian asked the thoughtful Brukel and the priest kissed Uher’s pendant, afore checking on his blade, moving his robes about.

  “Chariots and Cataphracts are the Khan’s best troops and they are placed against our own vanguard right from the start.”

  And Luikens.

  “The Assayer is deeper in the woods. They’ll miss him,” Sebastian argued and Brukel shook his head unsure.

  “They might,” he agreed with a grimace. “Unless they know about him as well.” Brukel turned to the busy trying to decipher the Khanate army’s positions Sir Thor and added. “I have to head back near Luikens.”

  “I’ll have Kloss escort you,” Thor replied raising his head and standing up straighter on the saddle.

  “I’ll take the boy,” Brukel replied. “You might need the sergeant and Todd knows what to do.”

  “I know what to do,” Sebastian protested.

  “Do you know how to get back from the forest path?” Sir Thor asked perceptively.

  “Aye. For the most part,” the squire croaked.

  He sort of knew, but not quite and Sebastian sighed a little ashamed, ready to admit the small lie, but the priest cut in afore he could.

  “Praised be the Five,” Brukel uttered with a broad smile. “Let’s get back to the Golden Spears then and you’ll return in an hour, or two.”

  -

  


  Somewhere inside the Crimson Forest

  Aeleniel silently halted behind a sturdy tree and bend slightly into its cool shade to survey the open ground up ahead, where a well-trodden dirt path meandered through the forest.

  The watching her moves Samblar exhaled heavily, fatigue weighing down his every limb after their brisk journey from the river’s shores. Beside him stood Tanulia, the striking younger ranger, who raised a slender finger to her soft, pink lips —her hand was adorned with fingerless leather gloves— in a gesture of silence. The sweat-soaked merchant frowned, puzzled by her signal, and she directed that same finger southward to help him out, pointing between the trees that embraced the hunter’s trail.

  “Someone’s coming,” came Aeleniel’s throaty whisper from five meters away and she turned around to return near them, whilst unsheathing a fancy shortsword. An owl’s cry was heard at that very point in time and the Imperial Ranger paused in alarm, ever light on her feet. “Azrael has a shot,” she added.

  A sparrow was heard next chirping excited.

  A tired Samblar smacked his dry lips unamused and glanced at the tensed Zilan females listening to various forest birds producing different sounds. Is there a hidden meaning there, or are they just trying to impress me? Samblar thought. Since he had funded this whole expedition out of his own pocket, why… it wouldn’t be strange at all, if these exiled ladies find themselves deeply captivated with my person, he surmised. Their long ears now moving at different directions making the scene rather alluring, in its bucolic context.

  “One person. Moving fast,” Aeleniel ‘deciphered’ the bird’s song –with Samblar going along with her explanation with a mocking nod- and then she moved twice as fast up a maple tree's trunk, just as a very tall, thickset warrior came out of the bushes behind them, not even six meters away.

  Ugh? Ostriches’ swollen toes!

  “Who are you?” The hairy human grunted hefting a large double-headed axe. He wore a red sash across his waist and a dirty heavy cloak for the time of year, over a chainmail shirt and a weapons-laden leather harness.

  “I’m Samblar of course. Eh, a famed merchant on vacation,” Samblar retorted acerbically in Common trying to remain relatively mysterious –a skill he never possessed- especially whilst still being rattled by the muscular intruder’s sudden appearance. “Do you have a name?”

  “I’m Bear Crug,” the bearded half-breed rustled, and narrowed his eyes in deep disbelief, when –the apparently not startled at all- Tanulia raised her left arm in a formal greeting. Crug’s voice came out sounding very impressed. “By the Fair Goddess’ grace. You lot are Imperials.”

  “Once. What are you?” Aeleniel’s voice queried from somewhere atop the maple trees branches, just as behind the human the male ranger Azrael appeared, with his longbow drawn and aimed on Crug’s back.

  “I serve the Academy of Senses,” Bear Crug replied hoarsely and then lowered his nasty axe. “I’ve been following the Aken and its minions for a while.”

  “Are these their tracks all over the path?” Aeleniel queried calmly and came out of a nearby bush, located in the opposite side of the maple tree she had just climbed up on. Samblar grimaced, eyes blinking in a nervous tick, both concerned by the human’s words and impressed by the female’s skill in misdirection.

  He almost missed Bear Crug’s laconic reply.

  “Aye.”

  


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