 
       
|
The BloodVaine EpicChapter 93: Defection
The Black Falcons were in a state of panic. The memories of the havoc Beleriand had produced was still fresh in their minds. Falconis, near the middle of the enormous line looked over the situation in disgust. The dragons were circling ahead, making passes at times to wreak havoc on the troops. Had they merely circled there, not doing anything, the effect would have been nearly the same. Simply the sight of a dragon, much less six of them was enough to make the men come close to a rout.
Consulting with one of his generals, Falconis broke off with his guard. The escaping regiment was all too obvious from the air, but before one of the dragons could home in on their target, they had melted into one of the small copses that were clustered around the center of the valley. A short moment later a segment of about 5,000 Falcons broke off from the rear. Two of the dragons saw their opportunity and homed in on them before they too went into the small forest killing a few hundred.
The rest of the men, abandoned by their king broke into a rout as concealed crossbowmen shot their bolts into the thickly clustered ranks. Groups of a few dozen broke away – some trying to run into the woods while others tried to find cover in the few abandoned buildings that were there. Most broke away, running the opposite direction they had come. At the front, separated from the main body by roughly a quarter mile, Eric commanded the knights to fall out and flee, ordering them to reassemble at the next village instead of forming a single, obvious target. Oddly enough, they seemed to be largely ignored. The dragons, trained by their masters did not attempt to go after small individual targets, went for the more obvious group, but not a single arrow was shot in the horsemen’s ranks.
Meanwhile, two miles away, Randolph, Mark, and Hans emerged from the woods. Meeting them was a group of twenty soldiers, swords drawn and bows notched. Raising his hands, Randolph held up the handkerchief on his lance.
“We mean no harm. I want to meet your commander. My group of men and I wish to defect.”
The leader of the group, a man of some twenty years of age looked at Randolph suspiciously, squinting at him. After a long pause, he replied.
“Drop your weapons then, and I will see what I can do.”
Randolph and the two other men complied.
“Dismount your steeds – our camp is only a mile away.”
“So, you intend to defect from your allegiance?” said Quorandis to Randolph, as they walked together. There was too little time to wait until they reached the camp.
“Yes,” replied Randolph, “King Falconis no longer considers the good of his people, only his own good. And we know that in this war, we are on the side of evil.”
“Are there many more of you?” asked Quorandis, “Any more men who follow you?”
“Not exactly.…” said Randolph slowly, “There are many, many men who do not like our king, and many who would be glad to see his overthrow, but there are no other organized rebels that I know of.”
“Well, I would have preferred otherwise, but your knights will have to do,” said Quorandis, “Do you have a means of distinguishing yourselves from the other Falcons?”
“We have brought red pennants for our lances, to use in such a case,” said Randolph. Quorandis shivered a little. Red was one of the colors of the Bulls, the Black Knights, and the Royal Knights, among other countries. All traditional enemies of the Falcons. It was a powerful omen.
“Then get out your pennants, and form up your men,” said Quorandis decisively.
“You intend to have us join you in battle?” said Randolph.
“Aye!” replied the Cavalier, “Your countrymen will not likely remain in turmoil much longer. I wish to strike while the iron is still hot. While the footmen and the dragons harry Falconis, our cavalry shall strike with full force. We shall cut down many, it is true, but our main object is to fight our way to the command unit. With luck, you may well be the one to humble your arrogant king. Without Falconis and his chief officers, I think the army will surrender.”
“I hope so,” said Randolph, not quite so confident, “My men and I will go get ready.”
Soon after, even as Falconis was restoring order in the Black Falcon army, the cavalry was ready. They were formed up into three companies: the Club Knights to the right, the Red-Pennant Falcons to the left, and the two hundred Cavaliers in the center. Bernard Quorandis waved in farewell to Elwen, who was standing with Jayko and the Dragon Masters somewhat behind them.
“I’ll be back!” he called. Then he dropped his visor, and raised his lance.
“For Empire! For Dametreos! For justice! On CAVALIERS!”
And with a resounding cry, the Imperial Cavaliers, the elite fighting force of Dametreos, charged down the ridge into the Black Falcons below, their allies attacking on either side.
The scene was one of organized confusion. The Falcons had been rallied, but their confidence was severally shaken. Archers continued to fire from their hiding spots, and although a few were hunted down and killed, the death toll of the Falcons was considerably higher. Only two hundred of the horsemen had regrouped, the rest along with their commander had simply disappeared.
“It’s a tyco megablocks ambush!" King Falconis XXVIII exclaimed.
His usually reserved attitude was cast aside and replaced with that of frustration. Turning to Martin, he said, “Draw the men away. There is a village two miles to the north. From there we can rid ourselves of this nuisance.”
The Black Falcons began marching - away from the steep hills to the south and alongside the forest that Falconis had fled to an hour earlier. The dragons had drawn off, and many of the archers had been silenced. The rearguard kept a defensive stance as they continued the march.
Meanwhile, final preparations were being made. The Cavilers were still being formed five miles away to the south, and on top of the hills, bands of soldiers waited for the command. When it was given, they broke up into groups of twenty men or so, and made their way carefully down the dirt paths that wound their way through tall grapevines. The fields provided them with security, and many groups came within a few hundred yards of the back line. There they waited for a few moments. They were mixed evenly, archers mixed in with swordsmen. Altogether, the scattered divisions numbered four hundred men.
As soon as it was deemed safe, one of the larger companies broke out, firing a volley of arrows at the back line. Most met their mark, and twenty Falcons dropped dead. A group of some two hundred Falcons broke off, while the rest of the column continued to march. On cue, groups of concealed men broke out, fired their arrows and melted away again. A few did not do this soon enough, and one band was completely overwhelmed. The Falcon’s progress slowed to a snails pace as some men attempted to break of and engage the enemy, while others took a defensive stance, forming lines. Without an adequate amount of mounted men to back them up though, the ambushes continued.
Falconis had already reached the mall town when he heard the news.
“Megablocks! Are they such cowards as not to engage us openly! Break five hundred men into a skirmish formation - hunt them down. We are in open land now. Their number cannot be too great.”
Meanwhile, the combined force of rebel Falcons and Cavilers had begun their charge. At first they went east, passing parallel to the Falcon’s original position. The hills lessened, and tuning north, they soon crossed over the road. Skirting the east end of the valley forest, the force came within sight of the harried Falcon lines and the small village where Falconis had made his headquarters. There they stopped for a moment, allowing the horses to catch their breath.
Final thoughts rushed through Randolph’s mind. He had instructed his men to kill as few as their comrades as possible, and instead make for the king’s guard, made distinguishable by their green attire - the dress worn by only the most elite of Black Falcon troops. Hopefully, the sight of their own countrymen would set them off guard, and make Randolph’s job easier. The call for a charge sounded, and the knights - both Falcon and LEGOlander some two thousand strong thundered across the two mile stretch that separated them from their target.
At the center of the center, amidst the Imperial Cavaliers, Bernard Quorandis led the charge into the Falcon ranks. Above and the sides, the dragons and archers had redoubled their attacks. The footmen who were not archers had actually begun to engage the enemy with spear, sword, and axe, and the dragons were no longer just sweeping overhead with blasts of fire, but actually swooping down and slicing, grabbing and smashing Black Falcon soldiers with their armored maws.
Quorandis hoped that the Falcons would panic, partly to make his job easier, but also so that more would be spared. A lasting peace would be established more easily if the casualties were lighter.
His main intent however was to get through the Falcon lines to the command unit, and he was going to get there one way or another. Woe betide those Falcons that got in the way of him and his Cavaliers.
| Previous Chapter | Next Chapter |
|
|
