Chapter 9: The Black Prince Strikes Back

It took a week for the Duke of Beyreth to arrive at the head of a strong force. Owing to the fact that they came over the sea in a small flotilla of ships they had no cavalry either, but the Duke's foot soldiers were famous for their steadfastness. Like the Royal Archers, his archers were also equipped with crossbows. In total, he brought almost three-thousand men.

Without further ado, he let his men march towards Patris, the ancient mountain stronghold in the very centre of Tanitsar Island. It had been built on top of a steep and rocky hill, two-hundred feet above the surrounding land, and it was thought to be impregnable. The Duke, prudent leader that he was, surrounded the stronghold to cut off its supply lines. Hunger is the most efficient ally in the siege of a fortress.

Thesia had found numerous references to Patris in the old scrolls, and they knew the layout of most of the fortifications. However, she had not found any hint at possible entry points.

The civil strife had been costly so far, with over four-hundred dead on the battle field around Tanitsar. In the North, things were also bad. News filtered through that local nobles had risen and committed massacres among the freed slaves in that district, enslaving the survivors and laying siege to three remaining loyal garrisons. There was no alternative but to send troops to suppress the uprising.

Macro took his loyal Archers and Lancers and marched north. Fifteen cadets from the Academy who had distinguished themselves during the defence of Tanitsar, Anais among them, filled the depleted ranks of the Lancers who had suffered some casualties in the reckless attack of the Noble Horsemen. By order of King Odar, Anais was carrying the colours of the second column of the Lancers, and she was very proud of the distinction. Macro saw her often, as she marched behind the column leader, with the black and yellow colours hanging from her lance.

It took almost a week to reach the Northern Territory. Of course, the rebels were warned of their arrival and they withdrew, lifting the siege on two of the garrisons. Macro was able to add the small garrisons to his army. He had informers too. From the freed slaves who had survived the massacres, he learned that the rebels had taken up a defensive position at a small river.

Together with a few of his officers, Macro reconnoitred the enemy's position. They had chosen to camp on the bank of the fast slowing River Terga, probably in the hope that the swift waters would preclude any attack from the rear. Macro noted the other side of the river was elevated, rocky terrain, and he saw his chance immediately. Three columns of the Archers were ordered to move upstream and find a ford to cross to the other side.

With the rest of his force, Macro closed in on the rebels. They had thrown up a breastwork with palisades to protect themselves against a frontal attack, but their rear, seemingly protected by the river, was not fortified. Therefore, when the Royal Archers who had crossed the river upstream had taken position in the rocky terrain on the other bank, their cross bow bolts began to rain upon the hapless rebels.

Macro could see the rebel soldiers try to find cover, but from their elevated position, the Archers still found their marks. He could see hectic preparations around the tents of the Nobles, and he knew what to expect. On his orders the Lancers formed a double battle line. Behind them, the remaining Archers positioned themselves. It was a tried tactic and the veteran soldiers of both troops had come to trust and rely on each other.

Under the constant barrage of crossbow bolts, the rebels hastily assembled under their colours and poured out of their protected camp. They could not, however, form regular lines while under the incessant hail of bolts, and they charged the lines of the Lancers without much order.

Even for a well-disciplined force of foot soldiers, lancers are hard to overcome, with the range advantage of their eight foot lances. The mob of charging soldiers, each arriving in their own time and without co-ordination, stood no chance. Before they even reached the line of lance points, their numbers were decimated by the volleys of crossbow bolts from the remaining Archers, and the surviving attackers could not even penetrate the first line of the loyal troops.

Suddenly, Macro saw movement on the left flank. A smaller force of the rebels had managed to outflank the Lancers there and attacked the Archers who were encumbered by their crossbows. Macro spurred his horse, and followed by his small detachment of Horse Guards, raced to aid his troops.

From the left centre of the Lancers, the rear line suddenly withdrew and formed a column, rushing to the left. Before Macro and his riders arrived, the half-column of Lancers had engaged the enemy and were driving them back. Macro could see that a number of his soldiers were down, and he rushed into the fray with abandon.

Fleetingly, he saw Anais in a fierce hand-to-hand combat with a Noble, but he was too busy to defend himself to render her aid. As soon as they saw him, the rebels concentrated their attack on him. That was a bad tactical decision, as it allowed the archers to regroup and fire volleys against the melting number of rebels.

For nearly ten minutes Macro was in the thick of action, striking, wheeling his horse, and striking again with his sword. The Horse Guards tried their best to shield their Prince but it was hot work for Macro nonetheless. Finally, the adversaries shrank back, leaving their dead and wounded, and tried to escape. They had no such luck. They were faced by another half-column of Lancers. Caught between the Horse Guards and the long lances, the rebels dropped their weapons.

The rest of the battlefield was quiet by now and Macro finally had the leisure to look after Anais. To his immense relief, he saw that the young woman was obviously unharmed. She was thoroughly exhausted, kneeling and rendering aid to a wounded Lancer. He rode up to her and dismounted.

"Are you harmed, Anais?" he asked.

It took the young woman a few moments to digest his words, and she shook her head.

"No, my Prince, just tired," she answered, a wry smile on her face.

"Did you lead your Lancers to the left flank?"

"Yes, my Prince."

She rose and bowed her head. In the heat of the battle, she had seen the commotion to the left. Noticing that the front line of her Lancer column easily withstood the charging enemy, she had her half-column turn and rush into the fray on the left flank. She was well aware, though, that she had acted against her orders and she expected a rebuke at the least.

Macro gave her a friendly smile, though. "I have to think what I will do with you. You disobeyed your orders, yet you did the right thing. Bring your wounded to the healers and rejoin your column. We'll talk later."

The victory was complete. The remainder of the rebels had yielded and they were disarmed and herded back into their camp. Four of the ringleaders had lost their lives in the fight, but two had survived. Macro had them bound against their protests. They would stand trial in Tanitsar for the massacres they had committed.

The lesser leaders and the common soldiers were given into the care of the garrison commanders who would find out who of them had committed murder or rape.

With his remaining troops, Macro marched to relieve the siege of the third garrison. When he arrived, the rebels had flown already and Macro was forced to follow them to a small fortress which was owned by one Eorl of Lonis, a distant cousin of Elbar of Clonal.

Macro was forced to lay siege to the fortress, but not for long. After three days, two men were brought before him who claimed they were escaped slaves of Eorl. They showed Macro a hidden sally port in the eastern rampart that was used by the soldiers to sneak out of the fortress.

For three nights Macro's men lay in wait until, shortly before dawn, the iron-clad door opened and a group of ten armed men tried to make an escape. A hail of crossbow bolts felled them and the sally port was rushed by a small group of Lancers, led by Anais who had volunteered for the task.

Once they owned the sally port, Macro's men poured into the fortress and most of the defenders were caught in their sleep. Eorl himself roused himself to fight but he died, his chest pierced by Anais' lance.

This ended the campaign in the North, and Macro left small garrisons behind to control the region and to enforce the new decrees. Macro's aide-de-camp, Edris, was appointed commander of the fortress of Eorl, and Macro appointed Anais to the vacant position at his side for the repeated bravery she had shown. He saw a great future for the young woman. She possessed an uncanny sense for tactics, and he wanted to take her further schooling into his own hands.

Thus it came that Anais was riding at his side when he led his troops South again, to join the siege army around Patris. Here, he found the Duke still besieging the ancient fortress. The Duke's men had surrounded the rebels for more than two months, and from what they had heard from two servants who made their escape early in the siege, Patris was running short of food already. The rebels had been so certain of their success that they had not stocked Patris for a long siege.

The Duke with his immense experience was in favour of starving the rebels until they surrendered. Too high were the ramparts of Patris; too strong the gates for any form of frontal assault. Patris sat on a hill, with steep, rocky flanks, and even the longest storm ladders did not reach up to the battlements.

Macro and his men joined the force led by the Duke, and Macro submitted himself to the command of his father's trusted High Constable. Not that there was much to do. Macro kept his men busy by securing the supply lines from Tanitsar to Patris.

Anais was around Macro all the time. As his aide-de-camp, she was present when Macro conferred with the Duke and the other officers. She heeded the old adage to keep her eyes open and her mouth shut. She saw to it that Macro's orders were recorded and passed on to the officers under his command. She also took care of his well-being, making sure he ate regularly. In short, she made Macro's life easier and he expressed his appreciation repeatedly.

It was seven weeks after Macro's return from the North when the arrival of soldiers from Tanitsar was announced. It was a detachment of Royal Guards and in their centre rode a small figure in an oversized Guard's cloak. Her reddish hair shimmered in the sunlight, and Macro could not suppress a happy grin.

He helped Thesia from the horse in person. In front of the grinning guards, he hugged and kissed the laughing young woman before her set her on the ground. Anais watched them with a crooked smile, but she brightened up when Thesia freed herself from Macro's grip and hugged the tall young cadet.

When the hubbub died, Macro tried to lead Thesia to his tent, but she refused.

"Macro, I need to pass on the information I brought. Would you show me to the Duke, please?"

"Of course. What information?"

"I may know how you can enter Patris!"

It was a dismal supper and in every respect. Alana sat in the Great Hall of Patris, veiled as usual and surrounded by her followers.

'Followers, right!' she thought scornfully. They were more like her warders and she was at their mercy. Her father, Elbar of Clonal was not there anymore to protect her against the people who pretended to act in her interest. After the disastrous attack on Tanitsar which had all but wiped out the entire younger generation of nobles, the surviving Noble Horsemen had rushed Elbar to Patris. Elbar had never been much of a horseman and years of studying had left him in bad shape. The exertion, the cold, and the wet clothes all conspired to make Elbar sick, and he developed a hacking cough.

Three weeks later, and a week after the Duke of Beyreth surrounded Patris, Elbar of Clonal, the unwilling pretender to the throne, died. He was buried under the floor of the small temple and his deathbed wish to negotiate a surrender was roundly ignored.

The new strong man after Botho's death was Erin of Eglas, also a cousin of Botho and the former King Lorsa. He ruled over the fortress with an iron hand. Not that there were many to rule over. Twenty-two Noble Horsemen, fifteen elderly nobles, and a force of two-hundred soldiers was all of which he could boast. Yet he scorned any suggestion to enter into negotiations with the Duke.

Alana knew that her father's death had been a terrible blow to Erin. It robbed the Nobles of a legitimate pretender, but he soon dreamt up a new figurehead – Alana. She was the last scion of the House of Clonal and she would be Queen of Tanitsar, preferably with Erin's son Piso as husband and regent.

So far, Alana had been able to block any such advances, claiming that she was in mourning over her father. However, the month of mourning was over and Erin was beginning to exert pressure on her. They needed a new pretender and only Alana could justify Piso's claim to the throne by marrying him.

Piso himself was secretly fighting his father's ideas too. He was betrothed to a young noblewoman from Beyreth whom he loved dearly. Repeatedly stating that he would only marry a willing Alana he gave her some breathing space. Yet, Erin kept up the pressure.

That was not the only reason for the uneasy mood at the supper table. The fifteen people shared in four baked doves that had been shot inside the fortress. They had no food stores anymore, and the meal consisted of the birds, a few grains collected from the ramparts, and boiled nettles.