Chapter 5

Sidorian Army Camp, Doree River, Empire of Lynese

The sounds of men and beasts could be heard well before William, his uncle, and the small force that traveled with him crested a hill to see the sprawling encampment of the Sidorian army. Situated on a vast plain surrounded by gentle hills, thousands of tents and pavilions formed an orderly grid, with larger elaborate pavilions at the center marking the locations of the nobles and commanders. Flags and banners bearing the sigils of Sidorian houses fluttered in the crisp morning breeze.

As they passed through the outer perimeter marked by sharpened wooden palisades, the sentries saluted sharply, fists to chests in salute to the royal party. Aldric nodded in return, his manner easy and familiar, even though this was his first time joining the army that Gavric had led onto the Lynesian shores. For his part, William struggled to take in the huge force and its organized chaos.

He’d accompanied his father to several baronies across the duchy of King’s Heart and his Uncle Gavric to a tournament he had thought, at the time, was the largest assembly of men and armor the world had ever known. Both were dwarfed by the military might displayed in this camp.

At the center of the camp, grooms rushed to take their mounts as they dismounted in front of the commanders’ pavilion. The heavy canvas structure was hung with banners of gold and white, emblazoned with the royal lion of the House Whitton. Inside were a dozen men dressed in the gambesons and padding they would wear under their armor, when the time came to don it.

As William followed behind his uncle, Eskild caught William’s arm, pulling him aside.

“Best you take a place over there,” he said, pointing to a far side of the tent with a clear view of the map and wooden markers that filled the central table. “Listen, but stay silent. It’s a rare thing to be present at something like this, and a good opportunity to learn.”

William just nodded, moving to take his place. In truth, he had no plans to speak at all. These were seasoned warriors who made William feel just how few his sixteen years were. He knew they paid him no mind, focusing on their new commander, but William couldn’t help but feel there were eyes watching him, evaluating him for weakness.

“Lord Aldric,” said a powerfully built knight with a neat brown beard. “We did not expect you so soon.”

Aldric clasped the man’s hand warmly. “I made haste, Sir Alistair. Our new king has declared the end of the war to be his highest priority, and winter is ending. Had my brother not passed, I imagine you would have already marched for the spring campaign.”

“We would have at that, but ... the crowning of a new king takes precedence. However, now that you’re here, we can make up for lost time. You know Baron Pembroke and Sir Halwyn,” he said, pointing at one of Aldric’s barons and a man William didn’t know, but presumably his uncle did. “These are commanders Baldwin and Haverhill.”

The grizzled older men inclined their heads respectfully.

Aldric moved to stand before the table, surveying the markers and maps intently, “Tell me of our progress. The dispatches sent to Starhaven have been vague regarding the war’s status.”

Sir Alistair cleared his throat, “Truth be told, we’ve made little headway since taking the coastal cities and northeastern peninsula last season. Baudric has bolstered the smaller forts on the central river crossing over the Dorée, cutting us off from the main part of the Lynesian plains and the central part of the continent. Worse, most of the other side of the Dorée is covered by the Dead Man’s Hills, which I understand are a nightmare as far as scouting goes. Cave systems, little water, some pretty spectacular cliffs, and false valleys, it would be easy pickings for bandits or locals on our supply lines if we went that way, which leaves us only the northern pass between the hills and the ocean. They know this and have concentrated their strength there, mostly along the central crossing over the Dorée, here. The next nearest crossing is twenty miles northwest and is not only a lot smaller, limiting how quickly our men can get across at a time, but the bay on this side of the peninsula is still in the hands of Baudric’s navy.”

“From the reports, I had thought we’d made it further inland than this. He still has all of these northern ports open, giving him easy access to Werna and its markets. Holding only one peninsula, no matter how big it is, and the mouth of the straits doesn’t do us any good.”

“Did you try pushing across here? I understood you outnumbered the enemy?”

“We did, and still do, although they have heavily reinforced over the winter. The issue is, besides a small blocking force at the crossing, they hold the forts here and here, two miles north and south of the crossing, and they’ve divided their army almost equally between the two forts. We can push through the blocking force without much problem, but from there, things become complicated. We can’t keep charging straight through because our supply line will be open to their men in the forts, and if we attack either of the forts, the other one will sally and assault our rear. Gavric tried splitting our forces and attacking both simultaneously last fall, just before the first snows, but we got bogged down in sieges when we didn’t quickly take the forts. It was in an attempt to take the forts that Gavric was injured.”

“I see,” Aldric said, cupping his chin in one hand, staring hard at the map. “And what is this northern fort like? What are the defenses?”

“It’s at a small curve of the river, which makes it difficult to assail from that side. The southern approach is on a fairly steep rise, giving their catapults and archers a fair view of the fields in front of it. It does flatten at the rear, but with the way the land lays and how the fort is situated, you have to come in almost completely from the north to get the advantage of that more shallow side, with the men in the fort watching you the whole time you circle it. There are also two small defensive fortifications behind it, guarding the northern approach. Not forts, really, more redoubts protected by thin trenches facing north against a wooden barricade.”

“You’ve gotten men around to see it?”

“No, but we have a woman in the town between the fort and the river that hikes up to the redoubts and forts each day to sell bread,” Sir Cedrick said.

“And you trust her information?” Aldric asked.

“She has no love for Baudric’s men. It’s a small town, and some of the soldiers are less disciplined than they should be. She also has a baby to feed and needs the coin.”

“I see,” Aldric said again, and then fell quiet for several minutes, studying the map. “We will hold the bulk of our infantry, archers, and artillery here, to be used in the crossing, along with one-third of our knights.”

He tapped a location farther upriver, “The other two-thirds of the knights will ride north under your command, Baron Pembroke. You’ll circle around to this smaller crossing here. You’ll then swing south and attack the northern of the two forts. I will take the remaining force here, force the bridge crossing, and attack it from the southern face. Between us, it should collapse fast, giving us time to wheel around before the southern fort rallies. Facing our then combined force, with half the power they had before we crossed, they’ll have to retreat or we’ll destroy them. Either way, the crossing will be done and we can continue our march toward Valemonde.”

Pembroke raised an eyebrow, “That’s easily twenty leagues, through rough country, and they’ll certainly be watching that crossing. We’ll lose the element of surprise.”

“Not if we do it right,” Aldric countered. “We’ll give you a portion of the scouts to take with you. Half of them were cutthroats and bandits before they were pressed into the levies. The tree line goes right to this crossing, and there’s a rise here, limiting their line of sight if you bring your men in this way. It’s a bad position to hold watch from, but they don’t have much choice but to watch the crossing. According to the star watchers, we should have a moonless night three days from now. You need to get your men in position, covered by the trees, and send your ... most talented scouts across in the dark. They must take out every one of the Lynesian scouts. If they miss any, word will get out and this whole plan will turn into a fiasco. Take only the lightest of provisions, to speed your march.”

Pembroke looked at the region around the crossing, nodding slowly as he saw what Aldric was saying.

“If you push hard, it will take you the better part of the day to reach the fort, but it should still give us several hours to take the fort. We will attack at noon watch, to draw their attention as you get close. With their eyes focused on us, you should have a clear shot to the walls.”

“It’s risky,” Pembroke said slowly. “If they should look north; if your attack is early; if our attack is late; if a scout escapes. There are a lot of chances, any one of which will turn this into a tragedy.”

Aldric nodded. “War is ever a gamble, my friend. But I believe this offers us our best chance to take the fort quickly and with minimal loss of life. Assuming our success, of course.”

Pembroke nodded solemnly, “I’ll need to select the lightest armored knights and fastest horses. They’ll be tired when we arrive, but if we have surprised the enemy, the battle should be short. It can be done.”

“Excellent.” Aldric clapped the baron on the shoulder. “I know I entrust this task to capable hands. I have one more command. You are to take my nephew with you.”

“My Grace, we’re going to be moving fast and with minimal support forces. I’m not sure we’ll have time to act as mentor or tour guide.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be sending him with you alone. Sergeant Eskild will go with you and will take responsibility for the boy.”

“Then take him we will,” Pembroke said, giving a nod to Eskild, who returned it.

Eskild placed a hand on William’s shoulder, leaning in to speak softly. “Come, it’s time we take our leave. Your uncle and his commanders have much planning to do, and we have to get you ready to travel.”

William nodded, allowing himself to be steered towards the tent entrance. As they stepped outside into the bustling camp, he glanced back over his shoulder, watching his uncle gesturing animatedly over the map table, deep in discussion with his advisors. He felt his stomach twist. He’d just arrived at the army, and he was already being sent off. Not to safety or to be out of the way, like his father would probably have done, but to join a force on a real attack, doing something useful. Sure, he’d be kept at the back of the line, and mostly have to just watch, but he’d still be there. With them. It was a chance to prove himself.

Sensing William’s disquiet, Eskild guided him away from the tent towards the supply tents, “You know, this could be a fine opportunity for you. Observing a battle firsthand, seeing how the commanders plan and lead. It’s a rare education.”