Chapter 110: Act 2: Chapter 46

Twenty-seventh day, Eighth Moon, 260 AC (+13 days)

Ryden POV

"Loose!"

Our arrows streaked forward, passing by the Tyroshi arrows, and fell upon them. The two groups stood opposite on the field, trading shots until we were close enough to really inflict damage. Fortunately for us, those directly across from us looked like some sort of peasant-levies, likely drawn from Little Tyrosh's main city, Sella Ora. Our arrows pierced their bodies with impunity, and they began to drop like flies. Unfortunately for us, there were enough of them not to matter.

Some of my men went down, buried beneath the return volley, but our armor kept away the worst of it.

The mercenary portion of the Tyroshi army, however, stood firm.

"Loose!"

The mercenaries had the discipline to rival us, maybe even more, but it was clear that their levies were too hastily put together. And so, they began to crumble.

"Loose!" I shouted, giving the men less time to do so. "Loose! Quicker!" I could see them begin to waver, and I looked for Lord Flint, who was in charge of the archers. I couldn't hear it over the sound of battle, but I saw his intention.

"Forward!" We carefully began to walk forward, continuing our barrage, as the Tyroshi levies began to collapse. The mercenaries held firm and began to take a toll on the other Westerosi archers. The mercenaries refused to give up ground.

I pushed forward with the men as the levies continued to crumble, with their mercenary reinforcements doing little to stem the tide. Eventually, the center and right flanks of the Tyroshi army began an orderly retreat to keep their flank from being exposed.

A sudden hand shook my shoulders as I spun around in surprise. A young boy looked at me with a fresh, eager face, shouting something.

"What?!" I shouted.

"Sir! Make way for the cavalry!"

"Cavalry!" I screamed to be heard over the sounds of battle. "Make way for our cavalry!" The call was passed down the line, and we halted our momentum and created pathways through the ranks. The earth shook as the cavalry thundered by, the smell of horses briefly eclipsed the smell of sweat and blood as they crossed the field. The cavalry reformed as they passed and crashed into the weakened left flank of the archers, crushing them into nothing.

We watched, catching our breath, as the cavalry moved forward, their momentum slowing until it nearly stopped. They began to wheel away to the left, leaving a field of corpses behind them, revealing the Tyroshi infantry who had surged forward to protect their archers. Seeing this, our own infantry was already moving forward to meet them, as the duel of archers was over. We had won the duel, but the field was not yet ours.

"Water! Grab some water while we can!" I shouted, waving over some of the boys who stood off at a distance, indicating for them to bring forward a wagon that had water for us. The water was warm, but its relief was sweet - though the light flavoring of wine helped that. I watched as the infantry clashed, and the two sides began to push at each other. On average, the Essosi army was more skilled, with all of their mercenaries having battlefield experience, though their levies were even less trained than ours. But our knights tended to be much better trained and equipped and even outnumbered as we were, we slowly gained ground.

With glacial slowness, step by step, our men moved forward. There were no collapses or routs, no panic or hysteria – just blood and death. In the light of day, the reality of it seemed more like a machine or a mill. Each man seemed to be just another gear – another piece of the machine – that contributed little individually, but together created a monster of a machine. A mill that took in men and spits them out crushed. Occasionally wounded men stumbled out from the battle, shaken and bleeding, some clutching missing limbs – like an offering to the god of war.

As the battle continued, I kept my men moving about but relaxed; the fighting slowly moved further from us. Dead men lay crumpled on the ground, some half-buried in the muck and trampled beneath their comrades, which showed the bloody path the battle had wrecked on the field. What was once green and vibrant farmland, now lay blood and mud, interspersed with the shine of steel.

Eventually, we received orders from Rickard for the archers on our side to move forward and flank the enemy. We covered the distance easily, though the ground was soft and slick underfoot; our way was unimpeded. When we neared the Tyroshi once again, the remnants of their archers pushed back against us. Arrows raced to and fro, but, as before, they took heavy losses, as they had yet to reinforce the peasants on this flank with sufficient mercenaries.

"Forward!" I shouted. "Let's finish these bastards!" Step by step, we drove the archers back into the main body of their army, who were still clashing with our infantry. Seeing the confusion as the archers and the infantry began to push into each other, Lord Celtigar, the man in charge of our cavalry, ordered a detachment of light cavalry to surge in and harass them.

While they did that, I halted my men just outside of bowshot range and ordered more arrows to be brought from the rear. My arms felt dead, but for a change, my mind felt alive. I watched as the cavalry raked across the Tyroshi lines, and the heavy cavalry began to reform and ready themselves for another charge.

Before they could, the Tyroshi commander proved to be no fool. Seeing the collapse of the left flank threatening the rest of his army, he ordered the retreat. It was orderly, at least as orderly as war was concerned, but they managed to break off from our infantry and started to back away. Sensing blood, our infantry surged forward, eager to win. But the Tyroshi commander, once again, proved to be no fool. Their famed mercenary crossbowmen once again showed their skill, and why they were so in-demand. Rushing to the front, they knelt into staggered rows, unleashing deadly waves of bolts into the oncoming men.

The Tyroshi infantry partially reversed their retreat and moved to engage our infantry once more. The shock of the re-engage confused our men, but before they could gain their senses, the Tyroshi disengaged once more.

Again, our infantry surged forward, eager to end the fight, and again, the crossbowmen made them pay. The Tyroshi infantry surged forward to cover their crossbowmen while they reloaded, and the main Tyroshi army continued to leave. The rearguard and the crossbowmen continued their game of leapfrog twice more before our infantry commander stopped the attempts. The Tyroshi successfully quit the field.

I saw some of our cavalry leave to shadow them, but I doubt anything would come of it – the Tyroshi clearly knew what they were doing.

We held the field, but to me, it didn't look much like the field of victory – just a field of corpses, filled with the sound of the dying.

Xxxx

Arthur POV

Marwyn emerged from the trees, moving cautiously – crouched - but as quickly as he could.

"Ser! They are half a minute out!"

"Excellent! Get to your position," I replied. We were all laying in a thick copse of trees on both sides of the road that ran through it. We were a little way off from the regional town, but the road we were on saw frequent wagons bringing goods to the town, which straddled an important trade route – a wide, meandering river. My men were dismounted from our horses, hiding in the bush, and had been for a few hours so far – a lack of any information saw us just waiting around for opportunities to occur.

Sunlight filtered in slowly through the forest's canopy, casting a wonderous shade, which protected us from the heat. The Disputed Lands were fertile; they had plenty of rain and sun, but the heat could be a bit much – especially when wearing armor. The men began to string their bows, and check their equipment, as once the caravan arrived, we had to move swiftly.

We heard the horses and the creaking of the wagons before we saw them. There were two wagons being pulled, with guards posted atop them, lounging lazily, and a few unlucky ones walking beside the wagons. The merchants controlling the wagons were also bored, likely having run the same route thousands of times. The area was away from most fighting historically, and they likely rarely had bandit problems. With ten guards to watch over the wagons – and that number was probably higher than usual because of the war – they wouldn't face any trouble. After all, a few bandits would not attack a large group of guards, right?

My arrow took the guard captain in the throat as my answer to that question. The rest of my groups' arrows flew forth, scattering among the guards and merchants that were on top of, and around, the wagons. The guards cried out, even as some were saved by their armor. The merchants all fell to the ground, either to get out of the way or from being shot. The horses began to panic, but already my men were rushing in, both to calm the horses and to finish off the enemy.

The few remaining guards shouted at each other to rally, but they were too few, and my men put them down without any of us being hurt.

I ambled out of the forest, holding my bow loosely, trying to put on an impressive appearance for both the slaves who were shackled to the back of the wagons, and to my men. We had skirted around many patrols and towns so that we could get to the interior of the country, and my men had been eager for a fight. Some had been disappointed to have been avoiding so many chances to loot, so I needed to reinforce not only my leadership but that my choice was the right one.

I shouted to my men in, what I hoped was, the Tyroshi dialect of Valyrian, "Get the horses going!"

And as planned, I heard curses coming from the front of the caravan, in Valyrian, while I looked over the slaves. They were thin, and wore ragged shifts, as they marched behind the caravan. Shackles kept them from running, and I felt sorry for them.

Marwyn came from the voices, and in a voice that carried, said, "Master! One of the horses died in the fighting, and another broke a leg! We can't move the wagons!"

I frowned exaggeratedly. "What's in the wagons?"

"Foodstuffs," he replied.

"Strip the corpses and take what we can. Burn the rest."

One of the slaves whimpered.

I walked over to them and gave them what I hoped was a cold look. "You are lucky. I don't have time to bring you with me, so you are free."

The slaves looked at each other in disbelief.

"And never let it be said that I am not generous. Take what food you can and run."

One of my men started to unlock the shackles, and I looked around at the rest. Most of my men remained hidden in the trees since I didn't want to reveal how many men, I had with me, but the rest were picking over the corpses. Some coins and jewelry were stuffed into sacks, as was armor. Others were offloading food and handed some to the slaves who had lined up, even as they looked confused.

A few of my men scared them off away from where my men hid in the woods, and once they disappeared from sight, more of my men came out from hiding, and we started to loot things properly. Once we grabbed what we could, I grabbed my flint and collected some dried leaves.

It took a few strikes, but the pile of leaves caught fire, and I started to feed it more and more.

The wagons burned ferociously, sending a large plume of smoke into the treetops. A finale to our first raid. It had begun.