Dream of Legends

by Stephen Zimmer

  Aethelstan looked out to the battleground before him, down the slope and towards the stretch of land spreading beyond it. Dead and dying from both sides filled the ground. He steeled his gaze, peering out towards the enemy lines, which he could barely make out through the trees.

  His ears were then filled with great shouts, thumps, and clinks of metal, as a huge wave of enemy cavalry rolled towards them. The enemy horse riders were followed by a rushing mass of armed warriors. The forms of a few monstrous creatures, bearing great war axes, could be seen interspersed within the enemy ranks. Had the men who were low on the ridge’s slope continued in their pursuit, they would have been decimated.

  “Hold the wall!” Aethelstan cried, his command echoed by some further Saxan horn bursts.

  The enemy cavalry soon turned and raced alongside the front facing of the shield wall, hurling javelins upon them, even as a second rank of archers fired over the cavalry’s heads to strike deeper into the Saxan forces. The shield wall was effective, holding strong through the thick exchange, and few new casualties were incurred. Many of the men jeered derisively from behind their round shields at the passing Avanoran cavalry.

  As the cavalry pulled away, a replenished mass of troops followed, and the two sides clashed in hand to hand combat once again. Mailed warriors of Avanor were mixed with a large force of lightly armored spearmen, most bearing rounded shields, lances, leather jerkins, and leather caps.

  Aethelstan withheld his small cavalry force, as the melee ensued in strength again. The giant beasts, where they lumbered up, were the worst elements of the second attack by far. Their powerful axes cleaved through mail or jerkin alike, although their clumsy movements often resulted in maimed or killed soldiers from their own side.

  Archers, spear-throwers, and those with slings concentrated upon the immense targets, as the front line of the defenders rallied another stalwart defense, repelling the attackers’ momentum again.

  A couple of the towering, tusked creatures were soon dead, while the remaining ones roared defiantly, though they obeyed the Avanoran commands to retreat, along with the rest of the attackers. The shield wall was intact. The senior warriors, knowing Aethelstan’s wishes, did not charge when the enemy offered a second, inviting pursuit.

  A loud cry was generated among the Saxan forces, as they realized the success of their initial defenses. They shook their weapons at the retreating enemy ranks, taunting them. Those who had lost shields or weapons scrambled to grab replacements from the dead. Others pulled wounded comrades away from the front areas of the battle, along with those of the enemy that did not exhibit mortal wounds.

  “At the least, the Avanorans know it will not be an easy fight,” Aethelstan stated firmly to the squat, thick-chested warrior standing to his right.

  “They have a fight on their hands, though we have fewer surprises to meet them with the next time,” Cenferth, one of the guards of his own household, commented. His long, two-handed axe, helm, shield, and knee-length mail coat were spattered copiously in blood.

  “We need to win more time, whatever the outcome may be. If this army gets through, they will fall upon an unprotected flank of Aelfric’s army at the Entrance,” Aethelstan replied.

  “Then we must hold,” Cenferth stated resolutely.

  Aethelstan looked out towards the enemy, and saw that their full ranks, including all archers, crossbowmen, and infantry, had retreated well out of sight.

  “It has suddenly grown very quiet out there. I wonder how long we have until their next attack?” Cenferth asked him, after a pause.

  “They have tried two methods and failed,” Aethelstan commented. “My thought is that their commander will take a moment to be cautious, and will ponder strategies for the next strike. Those from Avanor are not rash. They know, as we did not pursue their retreats, that we are not rash either. That will give them something to consider.

  “I think we will have some time before they strike again. Even so, keep the form of the lines together and ready. If some food can be brought up to those in the lines, then have it done now. Have scouts out there immediately. If they attack again, it will be with little notice. We need every moment.”

  “I shall, my lord,” Cenferth answered dutifully.

  “Also, have our men strip the enemy of their mail shirts, helms and forged weapons, as well as from our own that have fallen. Try to retrieve as many swords as we can. Our levies could make use of them,” Aethelstan ordered. The task was grim, but practical. “If we win this battle, know that I will give all warriors an honorable burial. But the living must take what can be used.”

  “Well spoken,” Cenferth replied, nodding, and already turning to begin delegating the order.

  *

  SAXANY

  *

  Though the morning favored the eyes of the defenders, the sunlight cascading from behind them towards the western horizon, there was a perceptible heaviness in the air as the Saxan forces marched out and deployed into a massive, living wall.

  There was no sense of the characteristic joviality of the Saxan people present out on the great plain. No riddles to be uttered, or songs to be sung, even the most spirited of the Saxans had a grave sense of the reality facing them on that fateful morning.

  Many priests, a number of monks, and even some bishops moved among the men, praying solemnly and issuing a host of blessings over the thousands who had moved out to stare into the very face of destruction. Both the warriors and clergy alike knew that all across Saxany, within a multitude of monasteries, hosts of monks would be sending up heartfelt chants and hymns to the heavens on behalf of King Alcuin’s gathered army.

  All hoped desperately that the All-Father would look kindly upon them, as they defended their land against rapacious agressors.

  Save for non-combatants, and a sparse few warriors that would keep watch, the vast, palisaded encampment that the Saxans had so diligently readied had been emptied out. A sprawling city of tents had been left all but vacant, their owners rallying and responding to the low, blaring tones of battle horns, and the loud shouts of thanes.

  The merchants, who had been more than happy to interact with the Saxans up to that morning, had withdrawn far behind the encampment to the east. Some had already headed well away from the battlefield, content with the monies that they had already made.

  The time for shield-sellers had passed, as the time for the use of shields had arrived.

  Many more non-combatants, from older men, to women, to more priests, and even some children, were gathering themselves with grim determination behind the massing lines, setting their minds towards the gruesome tasks that lay just ahead. They were wary and alert, saying countless prayers on their nervous lips as they prepared to receive the wounded and dying that could be gathered during the battle, and brought back to be tended to.

  Their own resolve was not entirely unlike that of the experienced warrior, as those who had seen war before knew that many terrible, nightmarish sights would fill their eyes before the day was over. Their efforts would meet with little reward, and mostly sorrow. A great many of the wounded would die; if not immediately, then from the diseases that gripped so many of the wounded in the aftermath of battle.

  A small army of riding horses, which had borne forth the thanes and their household warriors, to various points along the vast line, had been returned to where they were quartered with a sprawling mass of packhorses, mules, and oxen.

  Each minute that passed from the brink of dawn onward seemed to be an eternity. As the extensive forces filed out and deployed along the course of the battlefield, many thousands of eyes searched the horizon for any sign of the coming enemy. The invaders were definitely expected. Many brave scouts had died, but some had been able to bring word that all signs pointed to a full-scale attack that morning.

  Not to be caught off guard in any way, the Saxan commanders had decided upon full deployment at morning’s first light. Steel would be met with steel, arrayed in all the strength that the
Saxans could gather.

  The numerous contingents had formed up with good order, with large formations of cavalry gathering upon each far flank, and a thick shield wall spanning the greath length between them. As far as the eye could see up and down the ranks, running from north to south, the round shields with their central iron bosses were presented in overlapping fashion to the enemy as one continuous, adamant boundary.

  Hosts of banners and pennons marked the places in Saxany where the various contingents of men had come from, fluttering defiantly in the calm before the looming storm.

  The front ranks were filled with the most stalwart and skilled of the defenders, save for some that were being held back with Prince Aidan and his reserve force under the renowned Dragon Standard.

  Great thanes, well-equipped ceorls, and many elite warriors, of the retinues of both thanes and counts alike, served to harden the shield wall. Their iron helms and the prevalent coats of mail amongst them reflected the pure light of the new day, glittering brightly. Swords and finely crafted spears, with shafts of quality ash, were held within the grips of their experienced hands.

  Wherever the thanes’ retinues could be found were the great axe-bearing household guards, perhaps the mightiest of the Saxan infantry arrayed upon the battlefield. A large number of men were deployed to bear the long, rounded-top, triangular shields to protect the axe-wielding household warriors. They were well-trained to work in close unison with the axe-fighters, providing defense while the household warriors unleashed fearsome, two-handed strikes with their great war axes.

  Deep ranks of levies massed behind the front shield rank, summoned from all parts of the Saxan kingdom. Some were just above being children, most were of true fighting age, and a good number of the remainder were older men well past their prime. Most of them had traveled farther than they had ever been before in their lives, most determined to meet the enemy threat despite the terrible fears residing within them.

  Few of the iron helms so visible in the first line of the shield wall were present in this secondary mass, as most of those in the levies wore wool caps or headgear of hardened leather. Likewise, they wore their own woolen tunics on the outside, in the place of the mail-coats worn by the thanes, retainers, and household guards in the forefront. A very few of their number had old mail shirts, mostly multi-generational family inheritances, and nearly every one of those was in need of repair.

  A large number of men in the back ranks carried spears, but many were armed with a wide assortment of weapons. Some wielded makeshift war clubs made of stones lashed to shafts by leather thongs. Even the common tools of the farm were now being utilized as implements of war. Instead of well-crafted and maintained swords, axes, and lances, they wielded picks, scythes, hand axes, and other such farm tools. They were nonetheless lethal enough, when used in such a manner. Slings, javelins, and crude wooden clubs rounded out much of the rest of the weaponry.

  There were a number of wooden shields in evidence amongst the secondary ranks. A few very fortunate men sprinkled amongst the General Fyrd ranks did possess some better weapons such as swords, whether ancient family heirlooms, or obtained by rare gift or act of trade. Broad, single-edged knives, called seaxes, some with lengths nearing that of a sword, could also be espied among the levy forces.

  A good number of the levy men bore bows, with most archers of the Saxan army deriving from its poorer ranks. The bowmen were widespread amid the massed levy formations. Skills honed by years of hunting in the extensive forests of Saxany, their lack of wealth was no impediment to their deadly aim and ability with their bows. Out of all the secondary ranks, these were by far the most valuable fighters for the early stages of the impending battle.

  Though possessing little land, and without the best of arms, the General Fyrd’s offered participation, and risk incurred, was no less than any warrior of the household guards, or any province lord standing in the foremost ranks.

  At the far flanks, the cavalry had gathered in strength, in preparation for the coming fight. Most of the mounted force was gathered from the horse-abundant southeastern provinces of the Kingdom, which were also home to storied reputations of horsemanship.

  Count Leidrad of Poitaine’s mounted ranks were clustered primarily on the left flank, with Count Gerard II of Bretica’s force serving to anchor the right. Count Einhard of Annenheim’s contingent, many of which were more lightly armed than the heavier cavalry of Leidrad and Gerard II, were being held back in reserve, near to the great Dragon Standard of the Saxan kingdom.

  On both flanks, the numerous, sturdy horses neighed and snorted, as their riders gave them pats, speaking gentle words to ease their agitation.

  Of the Saxans’ own force of sky steeds, there was as yet no sign in the sky, save for a few solitary scouts shadowing the assembling Saxan force.

  There had never been such an enormous, diverse gathering of force in the history of the realm, before or after the union of the Northern and Southern kingdoms. Whether it would be enough to counter the strength of the enemy that was coming remained to be seen.

  As morning advanced, the horizon continued to remain clear, save for the distant, drifting forms of enemy air scouts. While the Saxans did not expect the enemy to go into battle with the sun directly in their eyes, they did expect the enemy to array themselves early in the day.

  As the main force of Saxans settled into their positions, a daunting stillness hung thickly in the air. The clink of armor, horses whinnying, and the murmur of voices, as men prayed or encouraged one another, created a tense backdrop against the oppressive silence looming over the western horizon.

  The minutes continued to crawl by, laboriously slowly, while tensions and anxieties mounted.

  *

  THE ANDAMOORANS

  *

  A steady tremor reverberated through the ground, rhythmic and foreboding, as a haze began to rise and take form in the distance to the west. Saxan eyes were immediately riveted towards the stark line of the horizon, many tightly gripping their weapons, as they waited for the inevitable presence of the force causing the ground itself to shake.

  The noise and tremors swelled into a steady, building rumble, as the steps of teeming thousands of horses and men combined with the thunder erupting from great numbers of booming, sonorous war drums.

  Facing the Saxan right flank, and serving as the left flank of the attacking force, was an Andamooran force of such prodigious strength that it could have served alone as the invasion force. A host of vibrant banners, red, green, white and black, billowed in the air as the Andamooran juggernaut crested the edge of the horizon. The massive ranks emerged into full view, marching resolutely towards the Saxan lines in a cohesive order.

  The Andamoorans had departed their native lands amid the splendor of great flag ceremonies, and the majestic nature of their appearance was no accident. The sea of colored banners were made of luxuriant fabrics, displaying geometric patterns and inscriptions worked into them with golden thread, taken directly from the Prophet’s Sacred Revelation. The elegant standards billowed proudly from their high perches at the end of long poles and lances.

  The Andamooran force reflected the diversity of its many territories and heritages, stretching from the westernmost parts of the Sunlands, areas that included the sacred city of Marracca, to the wealthy territories occupying nearly half of Eberias’ lands.

  In Eberias, Andamooran territory included bountiful lands, boasting of opulent palaces and elegant, walled cities. Lush and fertile river valleys alternated with broad, open plains, and mountainous terrain, bestowing lands that were quite varied and conducive to new farming techniques, crops, and irrigation methods brought in from the Sunlands.

  Over in the Sunlands themselves, the territories held by Andamoor expanded from mountain ranges rising across the strait from Eberias to drier climes of desert and shrubland.

  Andamoor was truly an expansive realm, one that possessed elements from a wide range of origins. Eberian foundations in an older E
mpire, and later in the Western Church, had long ago given way to successive waves of conquerors from the Sunlands. Those conquerors, while all adhering steadfastly to the revelations of the Prophet, were diverse themselves. They ranged from earlier rulers that had enabled art and learning to flourish, to the latest, dominant wave, which was as strict and austere as the arid climates that they had crossed over from.

  The warriors assembled within the massive invasion force reflected styles and influences derived from all the areas of Andamoor, both from Eberias and the lands facing it across the ocean waters to the north. It was from across those waters that the latest ruling class of Andamoor had manifested, to subdue the fragmented kingdoms that had come dangerously close to being reconquered by the despised infidel kings located in the south of Eberias. A strict, fundamentalist flame burned strongly within this latest influx of followers of the Prophet.

  Advancing in the foremost rank of the oncoming Andamooran tide were dedicated, fanatical warriors, who originally hailed from the lands of the latest ruling class of Andamoor. Their faces and heads were covered by the revered, distinctive litham veil-turban, which was wrapped in such a manner that only the wearer’s eyes were exposed. Despite having most of their faces covered by the dark cloth, there was no mistaking the measured gazes that lanced forth from their iron-hard eyes.

  Their focused, disciplined motivations were further reflected in the simplicity of their dress, as they were clothed in long tunics, trousers, and the hooded robe-cloaks known as burnus.

  The veiled spearmen clutched a unique kind of tall, rectangular-shaped shields, which were composed of several layers of toughened antelope hide. They carried a nearly uniform compliment of weapons, from long lances made of bamboo, to throwing javelins, as well as sharp daggers for close-quarters fighting.