Session One Hundred and Sixty-Three - September 25, 2021

[Matt]

Nolus 29, 733

Lord Ewen Ravinargh leaned over the parchment. As recommended by his sister Rahel, he was reporting recent events to the Queen at Tashal. But how to properly describe the situation without sounding outlandish? For much of what transpired would, to any not present, seem outlandish indeed.

The assault was preempted when a wave of orcs swept through the village and scattered the Viking force ...

Yes, this was going to be difficult.

Ewen continued, describing his victories against the Vikings, the attempted sieges of Olokand, the death of Prince Dula at his hands. Certain other items, like his duel arcane with the witch Sahmnara, and, in the end, the orcs, were carefully left unmentioned.

The Baron of Setrew fled before the enemy host. After this, the Earl of Neph rode forth at the head of his forces, but they were ambushed by the Vikings and routed ...

Strong words, maybe, but accurate, and Ewen wanted the Queen to know exactly what had happened. He described his efforts to evacuate the hundreds in the danger zone, the current situation in Baseta, and asked, without asking, how he was to defend the castle with three hundred men when the enemy had a thousand.

Satisfied as he could be, the Sheriff of Meselyneshire rolled up the parchment and sealed it with his signet.

“You sent for me, milord?” Arva stood attentively.

“Arva, I need this message delivered. Here is a passport, and money for your passage. Get a horse from the ostler and ride back to Tashal. Allow time for the Queen and her councilors to make a reply before you return.”

“Yes, milord.”

When he heard Arva was heading back to the city, Goreg quickly wrote a letter to his mother. Arva rolled her eyes, but agreed to take it. She asked Prehil if he wanted to sent a missive to his wife.

“No! That would tell them where I am! How many times do I have to say that!” The scion of Firith stormed from the room.

Into the rain rode Arva, trying best she could to stay in the saddle. Around Nevanfal Manor, her horse identified a scrap of flax as a rabid wolf, depositing her into the mud. Filthy and sore, she remounted. By dark she reached the ruins of Ovendel manor. The remains of one peasant cottage furnished a camp for her, half in and half out of the continuous rain.


Nolus 30, 733

Arva made no better time this day, managing no further than Heru. There was, at least, intact civilization, allowing her to pass the night with ale and decent food at the legendary Red Horse Inn.


Larane 1, 733

On a sunny morning, Arva spied in the distance the towers of Tashal. 
Continuing to the walls, she saw no sign of a camp of troops, or anything that gave promise of it. She reached the Heru Gate.

“Who are you to ride a horse into the city?” the guard asked.

“I bear a message from Lord Ewen Ravinargh for the Queen.”

The guard saw the seal of Lord Ewen, and quickly said “Pass!”

Arva continued through Kald Square and up to the gates of the castle, where she was again challenged. Upon hearing her mission, the guards there instructed her to leave her mount in the bailey and enter the keep. A guard led her to the small wood inside the walls. Lord Orsin Firith, Marshal of Kaldor, was there, drilling his troops. He did not look pleased.

“Milord, I bring you word from Lord Ewen.”

Orsin fixed his eye on her. “Do I know you?”

“I am Arva of Kerryn, attached to Lord Ewen's retinue.”

“Oh, yes. That's right. About fucking time!”

Lord Orsin broke the seal and read down the long parchment, mumbling as he did so, adding commentary at parts. Arva watched his face carefully, trying to discern if he was about to shoot the messenger.

When he finished, the Marshal said “There's a lot more here than is written.”



“As you say, milord.”

“We're going to need to ponder this. I assume you can lodge at Raven Hall?”

“Yes, milord.”

“Return tomorrow.”

“At what time?”

“First thing in the morning!”

“Ah. I'm a civilian.” She gave a practiced smile.

“We should have something to take back then.”

Arva retired to Lord Ewen's residence, where she put the servants to work, they having grown lazy in their master's absence. Goreg's mother was almost in tears to receive her son's missive. Arva left her to order a nice hot bath.


In Olokand, the sound of hoofbeats filled the air. The light horse had returned from their mission. Captain Thorp had little to report. They had avoided Halperin, so were unable to look in on Setrew. Baseta remained unmolested.

Frustrated, Ewen poked Qorsad into action. Now that the sun was out, the amphithere had no excuse. Ewen ordered him up the river to Setrew, a simple enough route.

Qorsad returned in midafternoon, lighting on the battlement like a gargoyle and calling out Back!

With what news, Qorsad the Swift?

They're still there.

Is the bridge of boats still there?

No, they're all drawn up on the west side.

What numbers of men?

Lots.

More than before?

Yes. Lots more.

Were there other hunting parties, away from the castle?

Not beyond the immediate castle area.

Ewen took what intelligence he had and asked for the counsel of his subordinates. After a great deal of palaver, there seemed to be two options: bluff the enemy out of Setrew to be ambushed, or wait and let the Vikings stew in their own juices until the royal muster arrived. The latter course seemed best, although Ewen, as a man of action, found it chafing. Intent on staying active, he began planning a raid on the enemy camp.

Goreg, remembering the trouble the force had crossing the gap between the bridge fortifications and the castle proper, proposed erecting a wall to enclose the elbow. Everyone agreed this was a good idea. The squire was put in charge of a crew, which used the wood left over from the from the palisade Lord Prehil had ordered demolished.


Larane 2, 733

Arva, at the gate of Caer Tashal, asked “Am I expected?”

“You are,” replied the guard. “Late, even.”

The sun just came up, she thought groggily.

The guards escorted her up to the Small Council Chamber. Presently Lord Firith and Lord Balim entered. 

“Here at last, are you? We have some questions.” Orsin brandished Ewen's report. “First: this doesn't make clear how many times the Vikings invested Olokand.”

“Twice that I know of, milord.”

“Twice. And they assaulted the walls both times?”

“Only the second. They surrounded the castle both time, but did not make an assault on the first.”

“And the first time they left because...?”

“There came a large body of orcs traveling from the north, which intercepted them.”

Firith and Balim exchanged a look. “Are you telling me orcs came to your rescue?”

“I don't think they meant to but they did, milord.”

“Troda, Ewen has gone insane. Orcs? Why'd they leave the second time, elves?”

“No--Ewen, milord.”

“That's what it says in here. He defeated their prince in single combat. And then they just left?”

“They were very demoralized, based on defeat both of the prince, and some sort of witch they had with them.”

“A witch?”

Balim laid a hand on Lord Firith's arm, as if to steady him, and said “It's all right.”

The Lord Marshal shook his head. “This is a mighty tricky situation. Very well. The message back is simply: we're coming.”

“Is there a day Lord Ewen should look for you, milord?”

“Assuming the weather holds—don't snicker!--five days. Ten if it rains. We won't able to leave today, but I'll start the muster. Tell him twelve days.” He turned back to Balim. “I think Scina should come along.”

“He'll prefer that,” the Chancellor said.

“And the Knights of the Lady of Dolithar should stay here and guard the town. I shall lead the van, we'll put the royal troops in the center, and Scina in the rear.” He returned towards Arva. “We're coming. Tell Ewen twelve days. You'd better head out. Take whatever supplies you need from the kitchen.”

Not an hour later Arva was back on the still-muddy road north, a huge bundle of vegetables slung behind her, and in particular, one carrot for Lord Prehil. The going was no quicker now than it had been.

If it stayed like this, it would be more like twenty-four days until Orsin reaches Olokand. Although the Lord Marshal might motivate his men to go a mite faster.

Dark found her in the ruins of Ovendel. And once again, it began to rain.


Larane 3, 733

“Did they have anything to say about the report?”

“Milord, they were disinterested in everything except the orcs, which weren't in the report.”

Arva had arrived back at Olokand at midafternoon, in yet another pelting rain. She had gone immediately to Ewen and conveyed Firith's short message.

Ewen paced his council chambers, fuming. Well, he certainly wasn't going to sit on his ass for a fortnight. It was time to take action.

The light horse were ordered split into two, one half to watch Setrew from land, one to keep an eye on the town from the river side at Dyselon. Once they identified targets, his remaining horse would form into a raiding force. Prehil would remain at Caer Olokand with the foot. The operation would commence as soon as weather permitted.

Which, as it turned out, wasn't for another three days.


Larane 6, 733

An overcast day, perfect for hit-and-run tactics. Thorp and his light horse brought back reports that the outermost Viking sentries were located in an enclosure some distance to the south of Setrew. There were further groups on both commons. These detachments numbered about twenty men each, rotating troops daily. More troops were visible in and around the town, but if surprise could be achieved, a small group might be wiped out before reinforcements arrived.

Ewen led his men out towards Setrew.

Judging from the alarums which greeted the raiding force, there were hidden sentries in the woods as they approached. Pressing on, the Kaldoric knights rode onto the East Common. The Vikings there hurried to form a shield wall, curved toward the flanks.

“Charge!” Ewen bellowed.

The Kaldoric riders smashed into the Viking line, but it held—until the more numerous horse curled around its edges. Hit from both sides, the Viking line dissolved into random melees, each being run down in turn. Every Viking was struck down, to the loss of none of Ewen's men.

Other Vikings ran to aid their fellows, but it was too late. The raiders trotted off, leaving them standing uselessly.

Upon return, Ewen ordered the light horse to continue their vigil. It had been a good day's sport.


Larane 7, 733

Word came back from Ewen's scouts. The Setrew troop reported increased Viking patrols, ranging out further from the town. The Dyselon troop told of increased commotion two days ago; they were not sure why.

Ewen knew his efforts had provoked an effect.


Larane 8, 733
Towards evening …

The sentries spotted it first, a column of men coming from the south. Men lined the battlements to watch the slow approach of their relief, Lord Orsin Firith riding at the head.

Lord Ewen greeted the Earl at the castle gates. Prehil, oddly enough, was not available to see his father.

The Lord Marshal squinted at the Sheriff of Meselyneshire.

“Lord Ternua, how are you feeling?”

“My lord, I've never been in more splendid condition.”

“No fever, chills, anything of that sort?

Baffled, Ewen shook his head.

Lord Orsin abandoned whatever point he had been driving at and turned to matters martial. “We did a forced march to get here. I've got about 160 men. The rest of the army is a few days behind. Of course, while the castle remains yours, I must take overall command.”

“Of course.”

“You shouldn't think of this as a demotion. There's a great deal of gratitude for you've achieved ... and some concern.”

“The concern should be for the kingdom, milord. My men have acquitted themselves splendidly.” He listed off several of the heroes of recent battles. “Everyone has performed outstandingly against superior odds.”

Again Lord Orsin regarded Ewen with almost a physician's eye. “You sound OK.”

“Let's make sure your men are feed and seen to, and then you and I can talk.”

“I thank you. They are tired, footsore, and hungry.”

“We have a surfeit of pork awaiting.”

“Excellent! I'm in the mood for some pork.”

“And I believe you'll find your son here and in good spirits.”

“Prehil's here? I felt for sure he was hiding out at the Jedes Horse Fair!”

“No, he's been instrumental in the defense of the castle.”

“He's a very fine knight. Not overly uxorious, however.”

“He makes up for it when it counts, milord.”

They repaired to the Great Hall, where a feast was ready, or at least as much of a feast as rations allowed, and ate surrounded by their troops. Orsin left the head of the table to the Sheriff, and took the right hand seat beside him. After hemming and hawing about routine matters, the Lord Marshal finally spat out what was on his mind.

“So, milord sheriff—the orcs?”

“It's rather inexplicable, but myself and just about every man in the castle witnessed it.”

“So it was a mass delusion?”

“I'm not sure I understand.”

“Give a few hundred years, and it'll be remembered only by quacks and charlatans!”

“I have not heard of any history of Gargun swarms this far east.”

“Indeed. They just appeared? They saved the day and faded off into the mist? Smells like witchcraft to me.”

“Yes. It may well be, milord. I have no explanation to offer. Events happened.”

Orsin shook his head. “We'll just have to chalk it up to one of those things.”

“I have not chosen to factor it into my future considerations.”

“That sounds practical enough. Where's Prehil?”

“He may be hiding, milord.”

“Hiding? I'll see that boy and give him a good tarring!”

“I invited him to dinner, but he may be lost in the castle.” Now it was Ewen's turn to say what was on his mind. “What is the status of the royal army?”

“Her Grace fares well. She's learning a lot on the job. I'm proud of my niece. Happy to call her my Queen. Well, the rest of the story is: I don't know. The Queen wanted to wait for more troops. I felt we should get here as soon as we could.”

“You saw in my report, milord, the details of the Baron of Setrew's flight and the subsequent routing of the Gardiren troops with the Earl of Neph at their head.”

“I don't know why Meden would do such a dang fool thing in the first place. He's not a soldier—can barely hold a sword! He's wily and oily as a politician, but as a soldier, I wouldn't rate him a ranker.”

“Obviously at this point, I'm concerned about the military capability of the Earldom.”

“Neph should have been able to raise over 100 troops. Maybe, if there's luck, most made it back to Gardiren, but not under the generalship of the Earl of Neph.”

“It seems to me that, this being the second year of incursion from the north, that there is a need of improved military strength, akin to what you have been able to do in the south.”

“I agree. And I have some thoughts. I think Prehil needs more stability. As I am to the south, he should be to the north.”

“I think something along those lines would go a long way to stabilizing the situation.”

“And some sort of permanent standing army. What is the condition of the manors?”

“By the time I arrived, pretty much the entirety of Ambarnis had been raided, despoiled, the manors burnt, livestock taken, and people enslaved. We were able to evacuate much of the rest of the region, to deprive the Vikings of supplies.”

“Good move. Starve their bellies.”

“Absolutely. But I must say that, unfortunately, our arrival was somewhat too late. But the time I came, the Vikings had already carried off great quantities of loot.”

“Of course. It's that damn wyvern Ethasiel! Another man I wouldn't put in a fight.”

“Romlach Ethasiel is a captive, to the best of my knowledge.”

“He's a good soldier. A dick, but a good soldier. Speaking of good soldiers ...”

Lord Firith pointed down the table to a knight of veteran cast.

“This fellow served with us in the south. Allow me to introduce Sir Haldavis Legith.”

Sir Haldavis gave a bow. “Thank you for the kind words, Lord Marshal.”

“Sir Haldavis, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance,” said Ewen.

“Sir Aeomund Legith is a first cousin of this man,” continued Firith. “They served briefly in my army together – and bravely. That's a Legith trait—pity they’re Chybisans!”

“I stand forever in the shadow of the reputation of my relatives,” said Haldavis.

“I've never heard the Lord Marshal overlavish praise on a undeserving man,” said Ewen. “I hope you do up here as you did down South.”

“I will take any mission I'm given, and perform it to my utmost.”

“Your mission right now is to have another helping of this fantastic pork.”

“That's a mission I can sink my teeth into.”

Ewen turned back to Orsin. “My Lord Marshal, since the report I sent, we have continued scouting the enemy position. We made a hit and run attack with mounted troops, and inflicted some casualties. They have increased their patrols since then.”

“Good move.”

“We estimate around eight hundred of the enemy still in arms.”

“Eight hundred. How many men do you have?”

“Three hundred. Against which we initially stood against thirteen hundred, milord.”

Orsin grunted. “Three hundred. I brought one hundred and sixty. I don't think there's more than two hundred coming. I wouldn't want to stand against the Harbaalese in the field with those numbers, not without some sort of trick up my sleeve. Alternatively, we could lure them here, for a third time, through a show of weakness. Let them batter themselves against the castle. You fought them on the walls here last year, and you fought them off.”

“The problem is that the season is still young, milord, and we have a large number of people penned up.”

“Yes, I can smell it.”

“Using a ruse to lure them in sounds like a sound strategy, but I wonder if getting then to split their forces would provide an opportunity to take a more aggressive stance.”

“That would necessarily split their force. You have prisoners, don't you?”

“We do, two of their war leaders.”

“Perfect! And I take it they know nothing of current events?”

“Of course not.”

“That's all you need.”

There was a knock on the Council Chamber door, and Prehil entered.

“Father!”

“Son!”

The two embraced each other, with no thought of anger.

“Prehil, have a seat. Ewen, we need more numbers. But once the full army is here, you release one of those prisoners. Let him make his way back, his head filled with lies.”

“There's a language problem, milord. They don't understand our speech. But we do have a translator, one Yurk.”

“So Yurk fills his head with lies. Whichever one you think is more gullible. Tell him no reinforcements have come, that your losses are more than they realize, that you hold his castle on a shoestring.”

Ewen nodded. It was a good plan, if they could somehow impart the proper information.

Orsin continued. “Of course, there's always the alternative, which is meet them on the field and hope we can overcome them with our cavalry.”

“Our knights are our one distinguishing figure, but we've already learned even knights should not charge their shield walls.”

“Definitely not.”

“But flanking in a double envelopment does have some salutary outcomes.”

“But you'd have to outnumber them.”

“You have to have enough on the front to pin and flank them.”

“You know whose signature strategy that was? That son of a bitch who rampaged over Western Harn five years ago. He would pin with his infantry and flank with his cavalry.”

“Remarkable, milord.”

“It's important to study the tactics of your enemies.”

“Yes, milord. Your years of military acumen are much appreciated.”

“Hard won,” said Lord Firith. He tapped his eyepatch.

There was a knock at the door, and Sir Haldavis Legith was ushered into the Council Chamber.

“Ah, yes!” said Orsin. “I told him to come up. Haldavis, tell Lord Ewen more about yourself.”

“Yes, milord. I am from the Jergrayn branch of the Legiths. The Baron, cousin to Sir Aeomund, and my own distant cousin, but we never met until my service in the army of Oselmarch. I am the second son of the Baliff of Jergrayn, and served in the Royal Guard for five years. While in the Tournament at Qualdris, I met Sir Prehil, who introduced me to his noble father. They helped me find a post, which I have held for the past three years. Lord Orsin, knowing I like to be where the action is hottest, invited me here.”

“I don't think we will disappoint you in that regard,” Lord Ewen said.

“And I hope I don't disappoint you, either.”

“Does the Lord Marshal intend for you to continue serving in his body of troops?”


“I believe this is a wholesale transfer,” said Haldavis, to which Orsin nodded. “The Lord Marshal knows of my ambition, and I will not be shy about saying in front of you that I would like to obtain land, a manor, and position. Without being too crass, there may be much available land in Ambarnis hundred in the years to come.”

“I have no doubt about that. As you heard, we do not have a standing army here in the north. That may be something for consideration by Her Grace in the near future, but, in the meantime, the available berths, if you will, are at my disposal.”

“I would be happy to serve in any capacity.”

“It seems to me that the plight of Meselyneshire is most acute. The people here could use every keen knight they could have. If it pleases you, let's consider you to be part of the sheriff's retinue.”

“I am happy to prove myself.”

“May fortune shine on you, and your ambition. I also am an ambitious man, and keen to find other, kindred spirits. May you succeed and prosper, and may our mutual enemies suffer.”

“They certainly shall.”

In this way did Sir Haldavis Legith enter into Lord Ewen's service.


Larane 9, 733

Ewen wandered into the Great Hall that morning to find the elder and younger Firiths laughing uproariously over some bawdy joke.

“Ewen!” declared Orsin. “Is there anything to eat here other than pork?”

“It's food, milord. It will serve.” Ewen took his own hunk of pig and sat down. “I had an idea. Even Vikings understand what a flag flying above a castle means. What if we were to use a false flag? We could convince the enemy my force is no longer there. Let a prisoner see me leave, lower the flag, let word get back I have ridden south. Then I could position myself for a surprise flank attack if we were to march on Setrew.”

“Not bad,” Lord Orsin said. “Let's discuss it some more.”

Ewen turned aside to order drill for the defense of the bridge should the Vikings try to run their boats past Olokand. The strategizing continued through the morning.