Eadwig wheeled his horse about as Captain Fanilly gave her orders. The bulk of the main had followed behind the elder knight in short order, and they were quickly relegated to new commanding officers.
“Sir Luthor, take ten mounted men and ride with Sir Tiral,” Sir Aethelmund commanded. The young mage was green to command, but at some point all people were. The grayed soldier wrung his wrist as the men around him sorted themselves, some to Tyaethe who could hold her own, some to Tiral whom would need all the support he could have, then many to Fanilly.
“The Sun and Moon watch over you Captain,” Aethelmund rode swiftly to Tiral before he vanished into the brush, “Hold fast your lines Sir Tiral. Keep cavalry on your wings and a strong reserve. I will hold until you have drawn their forces, blow a horn and I will send my cavalry into a secondary encirclement.”
Philin was raising high the banner of the Iron Rose upon a pike, below it waving on dyed wool was the personal arms of Eadwig, a glowing candle flanked by honey bees on a field of blue. To him, Marianne came. A noble girl of knightly heritage. He glared down at her for a moment. She was headstrong during drills when she had first joined the Order, but she seemed dedicated to her oaths and the promises of chivalry.
All well and good, should she not get herself killed. Eadwig thought with a grimace.
“Dame Delacroix find yourself a horse or a pike, we have enough for you,” He said not unkindly and gesturing to the supply wagons where spears and pikes were being carried, and spare palfreys were held in reserve. “If you wish to learn, take a horse and be at my side.” Eadwig turned to the approaching Iowerth.
“Our flanks are secure, I’ve passed command to Sir Bernhard, we both know he could use the extra experience,” the younger man informed him. He was only a young man in respect to Eadwig and Tyaethe. To much of the vanguard, Iowerth was a decade older or more than the majority of them and he stood as a figure of wisdom and stoicism.
“Excellent, he is to command my reserve troop then.” Sir Aethelmund urged his troop forward allowing the mounted knights to take head and tail of the fast moving column. He gave a last look back to Iowerth, “Try to listen to Sir Tyaethe’s orders without asking about two hundred years of crop rotation history.”
The knights were making quick pace through the undergrowth. The scent of dark smoke was more distinguished the deeper the delved. The air tasted moist, and sweat was beginning to cling to Eadwig’s brow. The men and women before and behind him were a motley of colors and armors, but he had made it absolutely clear that the bulk of the line would be wielding pikes and shields for cohesion in battle. He had been on fields of battle against unorganized levies and crushed them. He had been on fields of battle against unorganized knights and seen their plate hewn apart by halberdiers and rained upon by volleys of bodkin rain. He had seen scores of Iron Rose knights killed on the field during Phoran Cal’s swiftly defeated rebellion. Eadwig had watched the previous captain sustain injury after injury in her duel against Phoran Cal.
His lip quivered for just a moment and he exhaled lifting himself straight in his saddle. Men and women will die in battle. It is the way it is, no matter what is done to prevent it.
“Philin.” Sir Aethelmund awoke from a stupor of thought.
“Yes Sir?” The dusty haired youth’s eyes were wide.
“Take charge of the outriders. Keep our flanks informed, tell us of the terrain.” Sir Aethelmund commanded, “Onward.”
“Yes Sir,” The scout handed off the banner to another knight and rode off quickly through the dense brush.
The elder knight looked to Marianne and raised his helmet to the crown of his head, “People will die.” He said grimly, “That ambush earlier was nothing compared to what we do next, and even that is nothing. It is a brutal affair. Battle is not noble in nature, us knights just try and make it so, but don’t get killed by trying to play fair Delacroix.” Aethelmund’s eyes steeled looking at Marianne, “This will be bloody for both our sides, and there will be terrible injuries that you will see inflicted, and that you yourself will inflict. Remember that chivalry comes after the battle, and after you have survived.”
After ten minutes of forced march, an outrider informed them that they had arrived in their position for the attack. The area was densely wooded, but the undergrowth had thinned for lack of sunlight and space. The trees grew tight together like pillars holding up a green vaulted ceiling, but between them mounted knights could still charge in loose formation. “The slope gives us an advantage,” Eadwig pointed out to Marianne as the soldiers moved into position. “Our cavalry will have momentum behind them when they charge, and our archers will better be able to fire down onto the bandits. The enemies will have to arc their shots and most of their arrows will be lost in the branches,” he pointed above, “They too will have trouble hiding from our shots.”
The knights fanned out in preparation. Unmounted pike men with shields stood in three units a single rank deep, the archers stood in front of them in a loose formation and were prepared to harass the bandits in the early stages of the fight before retreating behind the pikes. On the sides were two units of cavalry and in the rear was a smaller band of cavalry and infantry. From the reserve line Eadwig turned over to Marianne and offered a smile, “I realize that you have a strong sense of chivalric duty, and I do not wish to discourage that. You have a good heart. I want you to command the right flank of cavalry. You will flank the bandits attacking Sir Tiral’s forces when the signal is given, that way you will be aiding your companions instead of charging full into a slaughter.” Eadwig pointed over at the dozen mounted knights, “Take them into the flank of the bandits attacking Sir Tiral and roll up their side. I will leave our right open after that to allow their survivors to retreat, and our reserves will make them lay down their arms. The rest of the knights will push forward under my command, when you have done your duty wheel back around to rejoin our push.”
Sir Bernhard was listening intently as well from his command in the reserves, the young knight seemed eager to fight.
Sir Aethelmund spurred his horse forward to his line of pike men and awaited word from the scouts that battle had been engaged.
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