Secret weapon

It was a bright and radiant day, the golden sunlight pouring over the green pastures of the plain like molten gold. The air was crisp and refreshing, filled with the soft whisper of a breeze that stirred the tall grass and carried the delicate fragrance of blooming wildflowers. Above, the sky stretched wide and cloudless, a serene ocean of blue with only a few puffs of white drifting lazily across the horizon.

Yet, amidst this tranquil beauty, two military camps marred the landscape like scars on untouched skin. To the north, perched on a strategic rise, stood the camp of the prince of Yarkat. Neatly arranged tents and fortified positions spread across the hill, the prince's banner snapping defiantly in the breeze. 

A few kilometers to the south, on the opposite end of the vast plain, the camp of the prince of Oizen loomed in contrast. Though more rugged, it exuded a similar air of readiness, soldiers sharpening blades and donning armor, their own banner fluttering against the clear sky.

Between the two camps, the open plain lay silent and untouched, a stretch of no-man's-land where the tall grass swayed gently, unaware of the blood that would soon soak its roots. The serene beauty of the landscape seemed almost dreamlike, as though nature itself stood in quiet opposition to the violence that was about to unfold. The sun, indifferent to human conflict, continued to rise higher, casting its warm light over the earth as if unaware of the impending clash that would soon break the peaceful spell of the day.

Inside the camp of the prince of Yarkat, a tense gathering of nobles, those who had been convinced to join the campaign, were amassed in a large, ornately decorated tent, as the nobles argued over the strategy for the impending battle.

One noble, a burly man with a booming voice, stood up, his face flushed with excitement. "We should engage the enemy immediately!" he shouted, trying to rally his fellows. "Repel the invaders and drive them from our lands!" His fervor was infectious, and many of the nobles echoed his cries, their thirst for battle evident. The recent humbling of the enemy elite had filled them with confidence, and they saw this as a prime opportunity to deliver a powerful blow to their adversaries.

However, not all shared this eagerness for a direct confrontation. A significant number of nobles preached caution, their voices rising above the clamor. Were they cowards?No they just knew the difference in strenght between the two sides. They were acutely aware that the enemy's cavalry outnumbered their own and that abandoning the high ground to fight on the plain below could be disastrous.

"We should maintain our position and force them to come to us!" one of the cautious nobles argued, his voice steady but firm. "The high ground gives us the advantage. Let them exhaust themselves trying to dislodge us."

The tent erupted into a cacophony of voices, with nobles on both sides of the argument trying to make themselves heard. The tension was palpable, each faction deeply entrenched in their views.

"Are you empty only in the head or between the legs too ?" One taunted, his voice dripping with disdain as he addressed one of the men advocating for a defensive stance.

The insult hung in the air like a gauntlet thrown down in challenge. The targeted noble, a man of considerable stature , bristled at the remark. "What did you say?" he demanded, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword.

The atmosphere in the tent grew even more charged, the prospect of an internal clash looming. Before tempers could flare further, a commanding voice cut through the din.

"Enough!" The prince of Yarkat stepped forward, his presence commanding immediate attention. "We are here to discuss our strategy, not to fight among ourselves.

Among the people that spoke Alpheo did not recognise any of them, so he simply stayed silent and observed the shuffle 

As the room fell silent, the prince of Yarkat looked around at the assembled nobles, his gaze sharp and assessing. His eyes scanned the room, passing over the familiar faces of his advisors and generals, before finally settling on a figure standing near the back of the tent.

The prince raised a hand, calling for Alpheo's attention. "Captain Alpheo," he began, his voice cutting through the tension. "You have fought with them . Anything worthwhile to add?"

All eyes turned to Alpheo, the nobles' expressions ranging from curiosity to skepticism. Alpheo stepped forward, his posture relaxed yet confident. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking, aware of the weight his words would carry.

Truth be told, Alpheo actually had something significant to say. He had been observing and analyzing the situation carefully, waiting for the opportune moment to present his idea. Now that he was called upon, he had no reason to hold back.

"Well, Your Grace," Alpheo began, his voice calm but commanding attention. "During the siege, while I did not have the chance to engage the enemy on even ground, I made it a point to observe their equipment and numbers closely. Through these observations, I've managed to get a fairly accurate understanding of their army's composition."

He paused for a moment, ensuring that he had the full attention of the prince and the gathered nobles. "Their infantry is largely comprised of peasants, poorly equipped with nothing more than shields and lances. In our encounters, my men had little difficulty cutting through them like cattle. However, this is a double-edged sword, as the infantry brought by his grace is not much better equipped than theirs. We would face the same limitations in terms of manpower and armament."

Alpheo could see the nobles exchanging glances. He continued, his tone growing more serious. "Where the real problem lies is with their cavalry. The prince of Oizen's cavalry forces outnumber our own significantly at least two to one . In any open-field engagement, this gives them a substantial advantage. We would be at a considerable disadvantage, unable to match their mobility and striking power."

He let his words hang in the air, the gravity of the situation clear. The prince of Yarkat's jaw tightened, one of the nobles from the faction advocating for an immediate attack, stepped forward, his face red with indignation. "You insult our strength, mercenary," he growled, his voice loud and defiant. "We are not cowards to hide behind walls. We will smash through the enemy lines like an axe through wood."

Alpheo couldn't help but smirk , after all he never talked about hiding behinds walls "With all due respect, my lord," he replied, his tone laced with irony, "that axe of yours would fall apart before it even had the opportunity to strike. The enemy would see to that."

The nobleman's face turned an even deeper shade of red, his fury barely contained. "How dare you!" he shouted, taking a step towards Alpheo, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword. "You dare question our courage and strength?"

Before the situation could escalate further, the prince of Yarkat raised his hand, his voice commanding and authoritative. "Enough!" he barked, his eyes flashing with anger as he looked between the two men. ''Alpheo don't you have anything useful to say?''

"Well, Your Grace, I actually do have a solution," Alpheo said, a confident gleam in his eye. "If you would allow me, I could explain how we might overcome this problem and even the odds with the enemy."

The prince of Yarkat, intrigued but cautious, nodded. "Go on, Captain Alpheo. You have my permission to speak."

Alpheo bowed slightly. "I would also request your permission to have my men bring something inside that could illustrate my point."

The prince's brows furrowed in confusion, but he gestured for Alpheo to proceed. "Very well. Bring it in."

At the prince's command, the tent flaps were pulled open, and two of Alpheo's men entered. They were carrying a long object, carefully wrapped in blankets. The nobles inside the tent exchanged puzzled glances, whispering among themselves as they tried to guess what Alpheo had up his sleeve.

The two men approached the center of the tent, setting the covered object down with great care. Alpheo stepped forward, his expression serious. "Thank you, gentlemen. Now, Your Grace, allow me to reveal what I believe will be the key to our success." And as he said so the men finally revealed what was covered up through the sheets.