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The BloodVaine EpicChapter 84: Clash Of The Armies
Radjar Kath marched at the head of the small army he was bringing up towards the Golden City. Sir Dractor, Graygon, and Jarvick were marching alongside him.
“We will need a way to distinguish between our Dragon Masters and Del Grakken’s,” said Sir Dractor, “There is no point to going to Lord Bjarn’s aid if we will be slaughtered by our own allies.”
“Paint is the only solution we could find,” replied Graygon, “The scouts have returned from an abandoned village just outside the city. I told them to bring something that would help in this regard.”
“Good thinking,” said Radjar, “But I don’t want to stop the march. Have the soldiers paint over their helmets and shields as we go. By the way, what kind of paint is it?”
“Urm…” said Graygon, “Pink. Bright pink.”
“No wonder the villagers fled without it,” muttered Jarvick.
“The bards will have fun singing about this,” laughed Radjar.
The orders were given, the Dragon Masters reluctantly began to daub their helms and shields in the bright pink paint. Several hours later, the sun was rising to their right, and ahead of them Orion shone in it’s gleam.
“War is already joined by the front gate,” noted Graygon, his keen eyes peering into the distance.
“Then let us make haste to join the war,” said Sir Dractor, dropping his visor, and drawing his great sword, “We shall be with your countrymen soon.”
“Aye,” said Radjar, “but our goal should be to enter the city, not to meet old friends. There is time enough for that later. For now, let us simply work at getting the Stormspears to a position from which they can hunt Aezazel.”
“If you are quite through talking,” said Jarvick, coming up behind them in bright pink battle gear, looking fey and determined, “then I suggest we get moving. DRAGON MASTERS!!! FORM RANKS! ON MY COMMAND, MARCH TO LORD VOID’S AID!....... MARCH!!!!”
“So we have been abandoned,” said Bernard Quorandis, watching the Dragon Masters and Royal Knights march away, “So be it.”
And he turned his back on Radjar Kath’s army and turned to face the situation at hand.
“What’s done is done. I cannot say I blame them for their choice. Well?” he asked, turning to the smaller group of leaders who remained with him, “What of the report?”
Elbadar, who had taken command of the scouts with Graygon’s departure, stepped forward to report.
“Falconis’ army numbers some one hundred fifty thousand, only one thousand of which is mounted. The mounted contigent leads the way. As of now, they are within a league of our position..…”
“Now, to our plan of attack,” said Quorandis, when Elbadar had finished his report, “According to the scouts, this army seems to be extremely spooked where dragons are concerned. For this reason, our first attack on the Falcons will be from the air. The dragons and their riders will swoop in, from the Falcons’ left flank.
“The dragon-fire will certainly take out many of the Falcon troops, but the main purpose will be to shake them up, so as to distract them from our main purpose.
“Our main purpose at this time is to destroy their cavalry. This should prove relatively easy. We outnumber their mounted me by two hundred, and ours are Cavaliers and Club Knights. I hate to boast, but the advanced level of LEGOland horsemanship completely outclasses the ordinary Falcon knights.”
“In the meantime, the Talistrani foot-companies will harry the Falcon infantry with crossbow fire, and so prevent them from coming to the aid of Falconis’ cavalry. Once the cavalry have been dealt with, we will withdraw eastward, over the ridge. The Falcons will likely pursue us rather than move on.
“Our plan after that is generally to harry to the Falcon troops. We are to take down as many of them as possible, and to cut down any companies that might get separated from the main host, but we are NOT to engage them directly. We might well end them as a fighting force were that to happen, but we should ourselves be slaughtered.”
A herald came running into the group of officers as Quorandis was winding down.
“Sir!” he cried, “the Falcons have reached the position.”
Quorandis put on his helmet and lowered his visor.
“That’s the signal gentlemen,” he said, “Let us go. For the Emperor, for the Empire, and for all Dametreos!!!”
Nearly six hours had past. In that space of time, 150,000 fresh Black Falcons, many of them left out of combat so far had been assembled in parade order for inspection. Falconis and two other leading generals rode on their horses along the front lines of the men looking over the ranks of men. The central portion of the army consisted of 100,000 regulars, backed up by archers. The left flank consisted of some 25,000 more, with the king’s imperial guards standing at the front. On the right were roughly the same number, with what little horsemen were left – barely a thousand – Randolph had been chosen to lead this contingent.
No stirring speech was made by the king. Instead, he stopped his horse, staring intently at the vast array of soldiers standing before him. He then leaned over slightly and gave a command to the man on his left who in turn gave the order to march.
Randolph knew that the Cross Knights were marching from the north towards the Allied Army. The Black Falcons would come from the south. Together, if all fell into place, they would crush the allied army that was at this moment trying to take Orion - barely a day’s march from where he was. Dusk was approaching.
When dawn comes the next day, he thought, he would charge again, only against a different foe. It was good that he had been allowed to pick his men. They could all be trusted.
The Black Falcon army was making good time. They were following one of the well-paved roads that had been laid down years before to compensate for the large amount of traffic that usually made its way to and from Orion. Now it was deserted, the civilians of that area either in hiding or dead. The Falcons were in a valley, the slopes of which had been terraced for the grapevines that now stood there, unattended. The Classic LEGOlanders were famous for their vintages, some seasoned for decades in the quaint stucco barns topped with red tiles that had been baked in the sun.
Randolph pondered deeply as he rode in front of some twenty horsemen who were scouting the area. In his hand was an apple that he had carelessly plucked from a tree and was slowly eating.
Am I doing the right thing? What if something goes wrong? Am I a traitor? No. I am doing what is best for our country. I will do what I must.
Looking to his right, he saw one of the scouts driving his horse as fast as he reasonably could down a small dirt trail that wended its way up the slope. A few moments later, he was alongside the general.
“Sir! There is an army of LEGOlanders just five miles from where we are!”
Randolph nearly choked on his apple.
“What the tyco are you saying? Keep your voice down fool!”
“Just what I said! LEGOlanders I tell you! 8,000 at the least!”
Randolph stood in a fit of indecision. He could report to Falconis and warn the army, or he could use this to his benefit. If he choose the latter though, he would be just as bad as the king, unless…
“Mark – you are loyal to our country, are you not?”
The scout saw where the conversation was headed. “Yes – yes I am loyal to the country.”
“Come with me then.”
Raising his voice, Randolph called out to his second in command. Gustav had been killed along with his entire detachment when they charged a week ago.
“Hans! Come here!”
A man behind them rode forward.
“We three have an important mission. Have you a handkerchief?”
“Why yes, but why do you ask?”
“A change in plans.”
“You mean, your plans, right?”
“Yes. Leave it at that. Come with me. Eric can take over command in our absence.”
The three men rode off in the direction Mark had originally come. At the top of the long hill that formed the valley’s right wall there stood a dense forest. The path continued through it.
“Lead the way Mark. We must consult with our enemies.”
He paused.
“No - Our allies.”
Unaware that some of the Black Falcons were preparing to meet with him, Quorandis was in position ready to attack.
“All the companies are ready and awaiting your orders,” said Sir Victor de Graff.
“Thank you marshal,” replied Quorandis. “Send word to Marshal Targon to release the dragons, and then rejoin your company. We will charge on my signal.”
“Aye sir,” replied de Graff, riding away.
Moments later, the six dragons went soaring overhead towards the Black Falcon army, fire blazing from their mouths. The effect was far more than Quorandis had dared to hope for. From the sounds, and from what little could be seen, the entire Black Falcon army was in a mass of panic.
“Sound the trumpets!” ordered Quorandis, “Let’s destroy their cavalry ere they have the chance to regroup.”
“Sir!” cried a messenger, “A portion of the Falcon cavalry is advancing towards us bearing a flag of truce. They wish to speak with you.”
“Hold off the cavalry attack!” Quorandis ordered, “But begin harassing the infantry flanks with crossbow fire, and keep the dragons aloft. Let’s see what the Falcons want.”
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