Chronicles of Camdairon- Chapter 1

The sun was shining through the trees and there was a gentle breeze in the air. The country side was green and beautiful all around the company of Vlyarian soldiers. At the front of the column was a nobleman’s banner, it depicted a golden hawk extending its claws to attack a white hare on a brown field. It was the banner of Lord Claus, a vassal of Duke Aelfrick. A few days ago the Duke had received orders to take the town of Vlafrish in order to prevent Jarl Olaf from getting reinforcements in the south, as the story was told to the force of a thousand men under Duke Aelfrick. Lord Claus had been given orders to go ahead of the force and so his two hundred and forty men marched under a bright and hot summer sun.

They were two days ahead of the main force and the evening before, scouts had reported a force of eighty Nurfrians holding a vital crossing, the force was reportedly compromised of sixty men-at-arms, ten archers and ten light cavalry. Lord Claus had decided to send forty of his cavalry on a flanking mission and they went northwards to a small crossing where they would come around the flank of the enemy and once Claus had engaged the enemy, the riders would come in and ride down the enemy. So that is how Alfred found himself lining up for battle on that hot summer day. He was a man of average height for Vlyarian men, about 5'9 feet high, his body forged by long days spent as apprentice to his father the smith of the village of Green hill, fief to Lord Claus along with Green hill castle which lay on top of the dark green hill the small town was built around. When the war started he was amongst the first to sign up, despite protest from his mother and father. Now he wondered if he made the right choice. Even though the enemy was greatly outnumbered, they held the bridge, a narrow wooden pass over a shallow river, Lord Claus' men formed up in front of the bridge and along its side, some companies were to cross the river and draw fire away from the men on the bridge who would otherwise have been slaughtered before they reached the enemy shield wall.The enemy was located on a rising hill while the Vlyarian force was on steady ground. Alfred swallowed his fears as sergeants shouted up and down the line to tighten ranks and prepare to advance. Behind him Lord Claus watched carefully, the Nurfrians forces had fielded the banner of a black trout swimming upstream, his eyes narrowed and he scanned the enemy lines.

“Alright men, straighten up!, Look forward!” Shouted Sergeant Lucius, Alfred’s sergeant. “These bastards think they can hold the bridge from one hundred and fifty of Vlyarias finest, now tell me can they?” Defiant shouts erupted in answer the words meant to rouse men to slaughter. This was nothing more than a mere skirmish over a small bridge, but the men eyed the small deathtrap they had to march through under enemy fire as they walked straight into the axes and swords of sixty warriors. The bridge could hold three men abreast. The sergeant stopped in front of him. “Alfred, I want you in the front!” Alfred almost whimpered in fear, was his first fight to be his last? But he had no choice but to do so and obeyed even though it most likely meant his end. Soon horns were blaring and shouts sounded, Alfred’s Company would follow Sergeant Kevin’s company which would take the full brunt of the arrows and be the first to fight. For that Alfred was somewhat thankful. On the flanks of the men-at-arms, archers had formed up and were beginning to dknock their arrows, waiting for their comrades to advance, so that they could provide covering fire. ‘Forward! Shields up!” Came the order and soon the troops were marching slowly onto the bridge. Alfred’s vision was limited to only what was in front of him, his helmet left him blind to his sides. He was sweating in his armor as the sun cooked him thoroughly. His heart was in his throat and the beating of his heart echoed the steps of the armored column on wood. As soon as he stepped on the bridge he heard the snap of bow cords and the company in front began to suffer. There was the sound of wood striking wood, as arrows hit shields. Someone out front cried out in pain and Alfred saw someone get thrown back violently and go limb. Behind him he heard the orders for their own archers to fire and more cords snapped and arrows hissed over head like angry bees. He heard them strike the enemy shield wall, but heard no cries of pain. The enemy archers had kept firing and more the sounds of arrows finding their targets continued. Soon he saw the body of the man that had been hit as he stepped over it. The arrow had caught him straight in the chest and the man’s eyes were wide open as if staring into Alfred. “keep moving Alfred, you dumb shit! The bastard’s dead!” Alfred kept moving then he heard an order from up front “Charge! Let’s give the bastards some Vlyarian steel!” Men roared and the company in front began to rush the enemy shield wall which shouted in defiance and charged back, soon there was a loud crude thud and steel clashed on steel as the two sides clashed. Sergeant Lucius urged his men forward as they joined their sister company. “Shields! Shields!” came the command and the soldiers who weren't fighting raised their shields, some were too late as the arrows struck them and a couple of bodies were struck with violent force and one went over the side of the bridge and fell flat on their faces in the shallow river.

All of a sudden there was the blare of horns and a couple of the men of his company swore. He turned to his friend Michael, who he had known most of his life, what was going on and Mike, with his freckled face and brown eyes nodded his head towards the hill. Alfred looked and saw the arrival of more Nurfrians, rushing to positions. The enemy reinforcements had arrived. “Gods.” Alfred muttered weakly. In front of him there was screaming and dying as both sides fought three on three. But they were pushing the enemy back, because Alfred noticed that he kept advancing. The companies behind Alfred's had retreated from the bridge and from on its sides as the enemy did the same on the other side of the bridge. Soon the archers had stopped firing at the Nurfrians on the bridge and at those setting up. There was more horns sounding off and the Vlyarians forces charged across the river which came up to below their knees, the Nurfrians did the same and on both sides, men were plucked off by arrows. Aflred was close to the fighting and heard steel clashing from both sides of the bridge. Soon he found himself amongst Sergeant Kevin’s company whom he found dead, an axe embedded in his head, with the arm of the original owner of the axe still attached. Alfred saw the man in front of him get plucked by an arrow and noticed he was next in line to fight. He legs almost gave way, but somehow he mustered courage and charged when he saw the Vlyarian in front of him fall. He rammed his shield into the Nurfrian in front of him who grunted at the force of the impact. The warrior was older than Alfred and his orange hair and braided beard showed that we was a true Nurfrian warrior, a veteran of many battles. Alfred shouted an insult to the older soldier and hacked with his short sword at the enemy shield. In his training he was taught to attack in short control lunges and slashes, but in the tight quarters of the bridge, there was no room, men could only hack or thrust. He raised his shield as the Nurfrian lashed back with a shout of anger and with his axe embedded itself onto Alfred’s shield, he raised his shield again and thrust low with his sword and plunged his sword into the man’s thigh. There was a gasp of pain in the man as he winced at the pain and then fell back as Alfred twisted and withdrew his sword. Soon time slowed down and began to fight another whose sword he knocked to the side with his shield and embedded his sword into the Nurfrian’s neck and withdrew, blood spraying like a fountain. He kicked the man down and advanced. On either side of the bridge, the fighting was brutal and harsh in the nearly knee high water as men struggled to manuever in the water, one Vlyarian tripped on a rock on the bed of the river and fell face first into the water, the weight of his armor prevented him from getting up and he drowned screaming. Another Nufrian was about to hack down with his sword, but got hit with an arrow to the throat and he choked on his blood as he fell back.

Alfred heard another horn blare but this time it was from the enemy's side as the riders Lord Claus had sent, charged out of the woods and into the enemy archers, cutting dozens of them down as they began to run. The remaining Nurfrians saw that they were going to be trapped and began to run. Alfred and the rest of the soldiers on the bridge chased their foes up the hill. Soon the enemy cavalry counter charged and there was a mess of riders and soldiers mixed together. Alfred jumped out of the way as a Nufrian horseman rode past him, his sword missing by nearly an inch. He heard a scream from behind and turned just in time to catch the axe in his shield and as it bounced off, he thrust back and felt the man’s guts clench and tighten around his sword as he pulled back. He saw the Nurfrians in the river begin to run and many got arrows in their backs and soon the enemy was in full rout. The Nurfrian Jarl had left the scene and his forces were left to be slaughtered on the hill which was now slippery with blood, vomit and other bodily fluids which turned the dirt into mud.

Alfred sat down near a tree trunk on top of the hill and looked down at the after math, there were bodies everywhere, Vlyarian and Nurfrian. Both sides paid a heavy price for the bridge. ‘it wasn’t even the right bridge.” Muttered sergeant Lucius, he was covered in blood but there wasn’t a trace of pain on him. Alfred looked at him confused. “What do you mean?” Lucius took a swing of wine from his flask and offered some to Alfred who after the battle needed something strong to calm his nerves and quench his thirst, so he took it graciously. “The bridge we wanted to cross is further down the stream. It’s wider, can hold ten men abreast and is made out of stone. Nah, this was just meaningless dying here” he spat on the ground. “Then, why bother? Why lose all these men? Lucius sighed. “These were Jarl Gearth’s men, he and Lord Claus have some kind of bitch rivalry over some tournament a few years ago, Claus swore Gearth bribed his way to the third round, so he didn’t have to fight half the tourney. Is it true? I don’t know, and I don’t care. All I know is that Geath won the tourney because he defeated Claus who by the time he had come to face Gearth, was tired after a long day of fighting in the tourney. So when Claus saw Gearth’s men, he couldn't resist.” Alfred was shocked, “So he let the Jarl bait him into a fight?!” He was surprised that a lord could allow several of his men to die in such a petty affair. Lucius shrugged, he had taken of his helmet and his black hair stuck to his neck with all the sweat running down from his head. His green eyes surveyed the field. He shrugged. “Gearth wanted to delay us so he sent some of his men here in an attempt to bleed us out, which they did, but now they’re dead, although that bastard still has about another two hundred.” Alfred was struck numb “how? There are at least a hundred dead here!” Lucius gave him a simple reply, “Gearth is the Jarl of the city of Yargrir. He has a strong force. Just be grateful he didn't send his full force, then we would've been fucked right up the ass. He’s probably on his way back to Vlafrish now, with the rest of his men, reinforcing the town” Alfred took another swing of wine and gave it back to Lucius. He saw two men carry Michael’s body to a pile of the dead which were to be burned; he was stripped down to his peasant clothes and tossed. His head was cut open in half and his eyes were wide, staring into the sky. All this death for some stupid dispute, reasons like this was why Alfred hated the nobility. Soon the dead were burning and the wounded on horses as they the retreated back across the bridge, and went back the way they went, leaving the bridge burning. Another skirmish that was soon to be forgotten. They took a turn in the road and marched toward Vlafrish bridge, half a day south of them, where they would set up camp and set up defenses while they waited for Duke Aelfrick to arrive in two days. As they arrived they saw the town of Vlafrish laid just on the other side of the wide river. This river was deep and wide, unlike where they fought that afternoon. Alfred guessed it narrowed down somewhere in the woods. The wooden ramparts were busy with activity as the enemy forces rushed to positions and bells rang in the town. Three banners were hung around the main gate representing the three Jarls that defended it. A black mongoose, three hawks flying over a mountain peak, and a black trout swimming upstream.