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The BloodVaine EpicChapter 76: Bernard's Convoy
Rob the cobbler was walking on the beach just outside of his village. It was a gloomy day, he thought. The skies were overcast, and more bad news had come to the village: some of their own boys who had gone to join the king’s army had been killed in battle.
There had been bad news for over a month now. There was war on the Royal Knight borders, against the Black Falcons and the Dragon Masters. Several of the village’s young men had been conscripted. Rumour had it that the king was wounded on the front. There were also rumours that the Dragon Masters had a new king, who was much more fierce and warlike than their old leader. And their were many rumours about the death of the Emperor and the destruction of the Cavaliers.
These rumours smote at the strength and will of the Royal Knight people, the last as much as the first. Of all the kingdoms outside the Empire, the Royal Knights were the ones most attached to the LEGOlanders. They were practically a vassal nation. The Cavaliers were often seen on embassies in the Royal Knight lands, and fought side by side with their own forces. And like the LEGOlanders, the Royal Knights believed strongly in the role of the Emperor as the supreme arbitrator of morals and justice in Dametreos. And now he was dead. Even the weather seemed gloomy these days.
Rob was sitting there along the beach, gazing out to sea, when he happened to turn south, and see a great fleet of ships drawing near the shore.
Rob spent the afternoon watching, bored, as the eleven-ship fleet unloaded its passengers, of which there seemed to be hundreds onto the shore. In keeping with the gloominess of the day, and his lack of customers, he didn’t even think of returning to the village.
Then his interest was stirred. The army that had disembarked had formed up, and trumpets were being sounded. A wind was rising in the west, and blowing away the clouds. Even as the sun was breaking over the army on the beach, the wind caught the great standard that flew in the hands of the standard-bearer near the head of the army, and revealed itself to Rob.
Rob gasped. The standard was that of the Emperor. The Emperor was not dead! And those knights at the head of the army, he realized, were Imperial Cavaliers! Suddenly, Rob felt a whole lot better. He rushed to his feet and fled back to the village, screaming for joy. The Emperor was alive! Things were as they should be!
On the beach, unaware of the hopes he was raising, Bernard Quorandis set out across Royal Knight territory, intent on attacking Del Grakken’s kingdom. All through their march through the Royal Knight realm, the invasion force met with the same response as in Rob’s fishing village: people thought the Emperor had returned to set things right.
Bernard Quorandis was getting tired of setting the record straight. It was hard to crush the hopes of the good peasants time and time again. But there was nothing else to be done. At least he didn't have to pretend that his Cavaliers were anything other than real. Even with the Emperor dead, the Cavaliers were a mighty symbol of justice and authority.
Only the sailors had been left with the ships. Each and every soldier had come ashore for the invasion, and as the army made its way inland, they gathered themselves additional forces. Stray LEGOlanders, abandoned in Royal Knight land with the death of the Emperor, deserters from the Royal Knight army, emboldened by an Imperial Army, and general volunteers, who had been formed up into proper, Royal Knight emblem-carrying, companies. Three hundred or more of these had joined the army.
The army sat camped on the border. There was not a sign of Dragon Master activity to the south. The Dragon Masters, not expecting an invasion, had no scouts on the Neverwood part of the border, thinking that the Royal Knights, were they foolish enough to attack, would attack from the western end of the border, where the roads were actually existent.
Little did they know that Quorandis had in his army several Dragon Masters of his own, including several who knew their way through the Neverwood. The following morning, they would move south, and Del Grakken would never even know they were coming.
At dawn, Bernard Quorandis ordered his band of Cavaliers into the Neverwood. They move nervously and quietly, their weapons at the ready, swords unsheathed, bows taunt. Many tales of the Neverwood had spread across the world of Dametreos, and none of them were cheery. There were tales of wild ape-men who devoured persons alive, raw and uncooked, tales of a hermit who could control blood-thirsty beasts with his mind. Bernard scoffed at such foolishness, but many of the footsoldeirs were very supersticious.
Traversing the Neverwood was slow, for no paths exsisted and the Cavaliers often had to resort to using their axes to clear a path, noise they could ill afford to make. It was nearing noon when two scouts ran back to Bernard on light feet and bowed.
“Dragon Masters, My Lord!” exclaimed the first after he had risen, “Three hundred by our count, but there could be many more hidden. They are in a clearing a half a mile east.”
The second scout continued, “Fully decked out they are, battle armor, sheilds and the like. Armed to the teeth with halberds, scimitars and pikes. Few archers.”
“Calvery?” asked Bernard.
He did not like this turn of events. If they were allies of BloodVaine, he might be forced to battle them in the Neverwood, a thought he did not relish. Bernard was a fully trained warrior to the highest degree, but he had little experiance in woods as dence as the Neverwood. His mounted men would have no room to manuver, and ambushes were a real danger. His one advange would be firepower. If battle was immenate, he could pick off a good one hundred of the Dragon Master troops with his trained crossbowmen before they knew what had hit them.
“Not a horse among them, sir.”
“It appears they have prisoners, My Lord.” piped up the first scout, “A man in full battle armor, some one in a cloak, a Forestman, a girl scowling something awful, two look-alikes and a bloke who kept shouting he was a King or whatnot.”
Bernard knitted his brow. “Did this person say what kingdom he ruled over?”
“Not sure, Milord. One of the Forestdweller Factions, Forestmen or Wolfpack or summat like that.”
Bernard scowled. He did not like the situation at all. He would prefer to pass the Dragon Masters by and continue on to the Yellow Castle, but it was his moral duty to help those in need. He did not care much for the Forestdwellers - berry-eaters in animal skins more likely than not - but a woman was captive and it was his chiveralis duty to at least rescue her.
Bernard turned to his second in command. “I’m going to investigate. Attack on my signal - but not before. If I do not return in five minutes continue on to Yellow Castle as fast as you can.”
The second in command started to protest, but clamped his mouth shut.
“Yes, Milord.”
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