Fate of the Crown

by Paul J Bennett

  "It'll likely be weeks before they arrive," said Arlo. "Talk is they won't attack till the end of summer, so you've still got some time left."

  "You two," yelled a voice, "shut yer gobs and keep an eye out. Yer not being paid to gossip.

  "Yes, Sergeant," they both replied in unison.

  Thirty-One

  The Siege Begins

  Summer 962 MC

  Beverly sat astride Lightning as she waited for her captains. Lanaka, as usual, was late but still arrived before the morning mist had a chance to evaporate. He joined the others, who, to Beverly's mind, were still half awake.

  "Orders?" asked Sir Heward.

  "We're very close to Wincaster now," she replied. "We'll be there before noon, but I want to make sure everyone is clear on their responsibilities."

  "I'm to take the Guard Cavalry," said Heward, "and keep the west gate busy."

  "And I the east," said Lanaka, "though it will likely be quiet.

  "I take the Bodden horse to secure the south," said Sergeant Blackwood.

  "And I'll take the Weldwyn horse to threaten the north," added Beverly.

  "Shouldn't you take more with you?" asked Heward. "After all, it's the north gate that leads to Eastwood. Surely reinforcements would come from that direction, if at all."

  "I doubt there'll be much help coming from Eastwood," said the red-headed knight. "Valmar is their duke, and he likely has any available troops with him in Wincaster."

  “What about us?” interrupted Revi. "Which group should we go with?”

  “I think,” said Beverly, “that it’s best we keep you with Heward’s group. The army will be arriving from the west, and that’s our anchor point.”

  “I’ll mark out the area for the footmen,” offered Hayley, “so that when the troops arrive, they’ll know where to set up.”

  “An excellent idea,” commented Beverly. “Coordinate things with the general once he gets here.”

  “Since I’m going to be superfluous to this expedition, perhaps I could carry out a reconnaissance?”

  “What did he say?” asked Blackwood.

  “He means,” said Hayley, “that since we don’t need him, he’ll use his familiar to scout out the city.”

  “Why didn’t he just say that?” asked the sergeant.

  “I did!” argued Revi.

  “Be careful,” Beverly warned, “we don’t want your bird getting too close to danger. Only long-range observation for now, Master Bloom.”

  “Very well,” the mage agreed.

  “Now,” continued the red-headed knight, “does everyone know their orders?” There were nods of agreement as she looked around. “Remember” she continued, "all we have to do is stop people from entering or leaving the city, so no heroics. I don't want anyone trying to assault a gate."

  "But what if one is open?" asked Blackwood. "Surely we should make an attempt?"

  "No," she responded, "we don't have the troops to follow up; the footmen won't be here for some time."

  "How long?" asked Heward.

  "I'm hoping they'll arrive by nightfall, but they won't all be into position until tomorrow. Is everyone clear on their orders?" She glanced around the group looking at each leader in turn. Satisfied they were ready, she continued, "Lanaka, you have the furthest to travel. You have to get to the other side of the city, so you better ride out first. My group will go next, followed by the Bodden horse and then Heward's group. Good luck gentlemen, and may Saxnor bless us. Except for your group, Lanaka, the Saints will look after you."

  Lanaka smiled at the compliment. "May you all fare well this day," he replied, "and may the Saints watch over all you heathens." He turned his horse, heading off into the mist.

  "Isn't he the heathen?" asked Blackwood.

  "Everyone's a heathen to someone," said Beverly. "Now, get back to your units and prepare to march."

  "In this fog?" griped the burly sergeant.

  "You've seen enough patrols in Bodden," said Beverly, "I know the fog doesn't frighten you."

  "I'm a sergeant," said Blackwood, cracking a grin, "it's my job to complain." He rode off, leaving Beverly and Heward.

  "Well," said Heward, "it looks like we're going to have a busy day. Good luck to you Dame Beverly, I pray things go smoothly."

  "I would hope luck has nothing to do with it," said Beverly, "but I know the enemy we face can be treacherous and dangerous so I will accept your prayers. Now, I must be off. It wouldn't go well for me to be late when I'm the one that gave the orders."

  Heward smiled, watching as she rode off. He made his way to the back of the column. The Guard Cavalry was the most heavily armoured horsemen but, as a result, they were also the slowest. There would be no rushing them today.

  * * *

  Captain Lanaka led the way. His men rode south and then cut eastward, across the farmland that lay beneath the city. He crossed the Burrstoke road then began riding northeast, his men spread out and moving quickly.

  They weren't expecting to see much, for the eastern road led to the Darkwood, the mysterious home of the Elves and they were no friends of the king. As a result, the road should have been empty, but much to the captain's surprise, he saw troops to the east.

  He brought the column to a halt, straining to make out the distant soldiers. "Maravan," he called out in Kurathian, "take two companies and block off the gate. I'm going to investigate our visitors here with the rest of the men." His aide confirmed the order and rode on while Lanaka turned eastward.

  The strangers were on the march, a line of foot soldiers marching in ranks. As he drew closer, he heard the synchronized footfalls of disciplined troops. Their armour was peculiar, to the Kurathian's eyes, but there was no doubt it was made of metal, for the early morning sun reflected off of it.

  He halted on the road and waited as his men formed a line to the left and right of him, their swords at the ready. The strange troops drew closer and then those in the lead stopped, the rest fanning out to either side to form a line. The bark of a command was heard, and then spear tips whipped forward, presenting a wall of steel.

  Lanaka held his hand up in the air to signify he was no threat and advanced, his men remaining stationary.

  "Who are you?" he called out in the common tongue of Merceria.

  "A question I might well ask you," came the reply. "Who are you that you would block our way?"

  "I am Captain Lanaka of Kurathia," he responded. "Who are you?"

  "I am Lord Arandil Greycloak, Lord of the Darkwood."

  "And I am Falcon," came another voice, "a former King's Ranger. Whom do you serve?"

  "I serve the true ruler of Merceria," said Lanaka, "Princess Anna."

  "Then we are on the same side," called back the ranger. "I would speak with her."

  "I'm afraid that would be difficult," replied the Kurathian, "for she has not yet arrived. We are the advance scouts, the army is half a day's march behind us, but if you would wait, I'm sure she would be pleased to receive you."

  In answer, the Elf lord bellowed an order and spears returned to shoulders. The ranks parted, and two riders came forward. The Human was heavily wrapped in a great cloak, his face mostly hidden by his hood.

  The Elf lord, however, sat resplendent in ornate chainmail that seemed to reflect even the tiniest morsel of light. He removed his helmet, revealing his Elven features. "We are pleased to meet you, Captain Lanaka," he said, extending his hand in greeting.

  Lanaka urged his horse forward and shook the hand of the Elven lord. "You look familiar," he said.

  "No doubt you have met my daughter, Telethial," the lord replied.

  "I have had that pleasure," the Kurathian responded, "and she has brought nothing but honour to your people."

  Lord Greycloak nodded his head in acknowledgement. "How may I assist you?" he asked. "I have four companies of spears and two of bows."

  "My men are tasked with watching the eastern gates to the city. We are to let no man enter or leave without challenge.
>
  The lord looked to the capital, which still lay some distance off. "I shall move my men directly opposite the gate then, and assist where opportunities may present themselves."

  "I need to ride to the princess," said Falcon. "I have news that may be of benefit to her."

  "You shall have a hard ride," offered Lanaka, "for she is still some way off. You'll have to cross to the other side of the city."

  "I have information on the king's forces," insisted the ranger.

  "Then I will send two men to escort you," said Lanaka, turning and barking out orders in Kurathian. Two men rode forward, waiting just behind their leader.

  "Thank you," said Falcon.

  "I only hope the information you bring proves fruitful," said Lanaka.

  "I'm sure it will," he replied. "Tell me, who guards the north gate?"

  "Why?"

  "I have reason to believe a large force of cavalry will try to disrupt your plans, and they'll ride from the northern gate."

  "What makes you think that?" asked the captain.

  "I've spent the best part of the last two months in the capital," said Falcon. "The king recalled all the rangers, and I answered the call." He saw Lanaka move to draw his sword and held up his hand, "Only to learn their intentions, I assure you."

  Lanaka's hand relaxed.

  "Their cavalry commander wants to hit back. He's a most insistent man."

  "Who is this commander?"

  "Lord George Montrose, the Earl of Shrewesdale."

  Lanaka swore a Kurathian oath, "Any idea of numbers?"

  "I can't be sure," replied the ranger, "but I would suspect two hundred or so. The king is eager to make a statement, and horsemen aren't much good in a siege."

  The look of indecision on Lanaka's face must have been obvious for it was Lord Greycloak that provided the solution. "Take your men north," he said, "we will cover the east gate."

  "You don't have horsemen," said the captain.

  "True, but we have Elven bows, and their range is great."

  "Very well," said Lanaka, "I shall ride there immediately."

  * * *

  Beverly brought the Weldwyn horse eastward. They were north of the city where the ugly grey walls were easily visible to the south as the cavalry made their way across the fields. The terrain was quite flat here, ideal horse territory, making their progress swift.

  They were trotting at a sedate speed to conserve their mounts' energy, but as she looked south, she spotted some sort of activity by the north gate of Wincaster, and so she urged them on faster, the better to deal with whatever was developing.

  Slowly the gates opened, revealing a mass of horsemen that began filing out in fours. She kept her eyes on them, though they were still some distance off. Glancing around at her men, she could tell that they had seen the threat as well. Many of them were drawing their swords in preparation. She slowed the pace while everyone unslung their shields, then confirmed all were ready before launching the attack.

  The enemy horsemen had filed out in good order, surprising Beverly. She stared at them, trying to determine who they were. Their armour was not the heavy armour of the knights, and yet they were not as lightly armoured as the Kurathians, meaning they were the Wincaster horse, for they could be no other. These horsemen, like their Bodden counterparts, were professional soldiers, disciplined and efficient. They wore a mix of armour, many with chainmail shirts or vests, yet they rode horses smaller than those of the knights.

  She gave the command, and her own men slowed as those behind rode faster to form up. They would attack in two lines, to prevent the enemy from getting into their rear. Pulling forth Nature's Fury, she gave the command, and the line surged forward.

  In response, the Wincaster horse mirrored them, and Beverly realized their lines were wider, outnumbering her by some degree. She spotted a flag in amongst the enemy force and was shocked to recognize the banner of the Earl of Shrewesdale. Undaunted, she kept formation, resisting the lure of taking on her nemesis face to face.

  The enemy spurred their horses forward, kicking up dust that lingered in the air, drifting westward in a dense cloud.

  The lines met with a titanic crash. One moment the thunder of hooves drowned out all other sounds, next it was the clatter of steel on steel as men hacked and slashed at their enemies.

  Beverly swung her hammer, knocking a man from his mount. His horse kept running, the herd instinct forcing it closer to its companions. Lightning shoved forward, pushing another beast out of the way. The startled rider grabbed his reins in an effort to control it while Beverly struck out, driving the hammer down onto his shield arm, using her legs to urge her Mercerian Charger forward.

  Again and again, she attacked, the dust thick and blinding. All about her, she heard riders, but the distinctive blue tabards of the Weldwyn horse were hidden from sight.

  A horseman struck her shield, the blade sliding across it. She pushed out with her left arm and felt resistance as the edge of the shield struck home. Lightning reared up, kicking out with his hooves. She heard the impact as a metal helmet rang out like a bell, and then she saw the rider topple from the saddle.

  She cursed the lack of wind that caused the dust to linger. Somewhere in this morass of fighting were her troops, but she had pushed too far forward, and now found herself surrounded. The hammer rang off of an arm, deflecting her blow. She withdrew the weapon, going for an overhead strike, but as she raised it, a sword struck her, jabbing in from her right, hitting her just below the armpit. A fraction higher and it would have sunk into flesh, but the side of her metal breastplate tempered the blow. Nature's Fury came down on the man's head, knocking him from his horse.

  Beverly glanced about, trying to get a feel for her situation, but all she saw were enemy soldiers and dust flying everywhere. She kept striking out, horse and rider functioning as one. Parry here, swing there, back and forth, her muscles doing everything by instinct. She felt the magic gripping her now, driving her ever faster and faster, the weapon becoming a blur in her hand.

  In front of her, a group of riders came at her with lances couched. She braced for the impact, knowing there was nothing she could do about it, but just before they struck a sound emerged; a high pitched yelling. Suddenly, the enemy turned, trying to meet the new threat to their rear.

  She forced her way through and struck while they were distracted, knocking one man from the saddle and hitting another in his side. Lightning pushed forward, and as she was about to swing, she saw the cause; Kurathian horsemen. They surged past her, intent on their prey. Beverly brought her horse to a halt and then waited, hoping for the dust to settle.

  The clear sound of a horn blew from the city walls, and then the enemy horse began to break away from the fight. Beverly wanted to attack them while they retreated, but without knowing the state of her men, it would be too big a risk. She watched the king's men ride off to the safety of Wincaster and trotted back into the massive dust cloud that was finally starting to dissipate.

  A cheer went up from the troops at the sight of their retreating foes. Beverly spotted Lanaka while his men gathered up stray horses. She rode over to him, his face covered in dust and blood.

  "Are you injured?" she asked.

  "I am fine," he said, pointing, "but you need to see the healer."

  She looked down at her side, the blood flowing onto her saddle.

  "It seems I was hit," she said. "Strange, I didn’t feel it." She looked back to the Kurathian. "Why aren't you at the east gate?"

  "It seems a friend of yours is looking after it," he replied, "an Elf named Lord Greycloak."

  "The Elves?" she queried. "I thought Elf didn't fight Elf?"

  "I don't know anything about that," offered the Kurathian, "but he has a Human with him, a man named Falcon. I sent a couple of riders to escort him to the princess. He's not dangerous, is he?"

  "No," replied Beverly, "at least not to us."

  "Good, he's the one that warned us about the enemy cavalry. You sho
uld take your men back westward. My men will keep an eye on things here."

  She was about to object, but her gaze wandered to the Weldwyn horse. They had taken a beating and close to half of them were either dead or wounded. "Very well," she said, "I'll return with them once the Life Mages have done their part."

  She turned Lightning, and her men fell into line behind her as she made her way westward.

  * * *

  The rest of the army arrived that evening. The Life Mage, Revi Bloom, had ridden with Heward's group and Beverly had been healed by the time she arrived at their camp. She dismounted, handing Lightning's reins to a nearby aide and entered the farmhouse that functioned as their headquarters.

  Inside, Princess Anna sat at a table with the rest of her entourage standing around it. The room was crowded, and Beverly was very conscious of the amount of space her heavy armour occupied.

  "Ah, Beverly," said Gerald in greeting, "I'm glad you're all right. We heard you had a little bit of a dust-up today?"

  "I did," she replied, nodding to Revi Bloom, "though thanks to Master Revi, I'm back in fighting shape. What have I missed?"

  "We've been going over the troop dispositions," said Anna. "Nothing as exciting as your cavalry escapades, I'm afraid."

  "Everything's important," Beverly replied.

  "We were just discussing how we are to proceed," said Gerald. "I'd be curious what ideas you might have?"

  Beverly squeezed in to look down at the crude map of Wincaster someone had drawn on the table.

  "I'd say a lengthy siege," she offered, "and try to starve them out."

  "Why would you say that?" asked Arnim.

  "Wincaster is large," she explained, "and there are a lot of mouths to feed. They'd likely be starving by late summer with no hope of getting in the fall harvest."

  "Exactly what Gerald thought," said Anna. "Did he tell you?"

  "No, Your Highness, I've only just arrived."

  "It's her training," offered Baron Fitzwilliam. "She can't help it. She was reading maps before she could speak."