The Heirs of Britain - Game Nineteen

 

The Heirs of Britain

Session 19: 486, The Duel for Devizes

__________ Session 19: 486, Northern Salisbury __________ 

The muster is typical for Salisbury: Most knights are there, with the notable and grievous absence of Sir Iwan the Modest. Sir Cadel is here, and looks well: The enigmatic knight’s gear and attire are well-kept this day, and his face less sunken. Sir Vandagild points him out: Enormous Uhtred notes that the man’s clothing, though modest, is excellently tailored and fitted; his Worldly experience informs him that this kind of craftsmanship doesn't really exist in Salisbury; this too, he conveys. The mystery of that strange knight thickens.

Sir Elvorix notes that the muster is a little short, bringing knowing nods from his Aquitanian friend, though neither can tell who is missing. Inquiring, they hear only that, as part of this muster, the Duke Gorlois of Cornwall has sent men to harass the Summerlanders on the Cornish border; through this manoeuvre, the cunning Gorlois and Roderick hope to draw the foe’s soldiers away from the real fight.

__________

 

As has become tradition since Parisium, the good Earl Roderick knights several squires before the battle; this includes Uhtred, who towers over his fellow squires and knights (Size 22!). Uhtred is a Berroc-Saxon, as his stature suggests, and he thus favours a long-hafted Dane Axe over the traditional blade and shield of his colleagues. As the butt rests in the dirt, the blade stands above the head of most men. His particular weapon is exceptional: Some antique from the continent, a Germanic masterwork of generational quality. The damascened blade is a work of art.

As a man: Uhtred has a nasty streak, which his companions hope dearly reserved for his enemies. Though his size and strength impress, he is not a dextrous warrior. He is famed for his Chastity, Justice, and Valour. Fond, too, of sharp humour, his Deceitful streak too is well known, though his constant lies are mostly wrought for the dark humour discovered behind them.

This man, Uhtred, kneels before the Earl, still almost eye-to-eye; Roderick slaps him in the face:

“Let this be the last blow that thy taketh without recourse.”

Thus, the shield, spurs, and sword, are granted to he, and the man is told to rise to his imposing height. There is decent cheer, but the ceremony pales in comparison to those knightings that occurred under Aurelius. These times offer less cause for such joy.

Sirs Vandagild and Elvorix congratulate their companion, whom they have known for years as the squire of Sir Iwan the Modest. He grunts in assent.

__________ Mending the Fractured Lance __________

Elvorix looks around, brow a-furrow. He carries some unexplained agitation.

The Roman comes beside Sir Vandagild, who gently takes his shoulder in quiet solidarity.

Sighing, Elvorix now notes the sharp absence of Iwan's fine steed and calming presence. Vandagild squeezes, briefly embracing his fine friend; they share a moment of grief.

"We will fight well, for our fallen friend. May God guide our hands.”

The quiet moment lingers, before it is broken by the approaching Earl:

“Sir Vandagild” Comes the steady voice, drawing that knight to attention, "I wanted to once more extend to thee my condolence. Knoweth well, do I, how close were thee to Sir Iwan. But his death hath brought more trouble than just heartache to those who loved him; there lingers now a gap in my army. I appoint thee, Sir Vandagild, to fill it: I nominate thee leader of this Eschille.”

“Sir Uhtred”, he continues, turning so, “thou are to join this formation; Sir Vandagild is thy lord in battle; follow him.”

“And Vandagild, follow ye me; I expect ye already know that.”

Uhtred nods, and Sir Vandagild bows, with brief words of gratitude and promise.

The Earl nods, holding each man’s gaze a moment, and strides off to other business.

Sir Elvorix, though of similar claim to the role, has no jealousy: He quickly and warmly congratulates Sir Vandagild. The latter offers a half-smile for he wishes the promotion were under better circumstance. He would rather follow Iwan.

"Well” replies Elvorix, “be’est that as it may: Among the living I would have no other lead us into battle." 

Vandagild bows in gratitude and modesty.

Sir Elvorix now joins hands with mighty Uhtred; he is glad the man is on his side; for he would hate bring battle to the son of a Giant! Uhtred’s face darkens, his hatred for those enormous monsters, who so recently killed his Lord and friend Sir Iwan the Modest, conquers his love of joke. Elvorix laughs off the scowl, but finds quick reason to stand elsewhere.

__________ The March to Devizes __________

The Knights, still called the Wolves of Logres, approach Devizes Castle.

Scouts ride and report, and the Salisbury muster forms to battle lines: A massed Summerlander force is before them!

Rumours swirl: A Knight Riding atop a Green Horse leads the head of the mysterious force. This man is known to the older and more learned knights: Sir Melwas, the Sword of Summerland.

The Earl works his flags and horns, and his eager men respond, keenly manoeuvring to gain advantage over the field. Roderick’s leadership is the better; and he brings his line to abut the walls of Devizes, closer than his men expect, well within the reach of enemy shafts. Though some mutter, they believe in Red-Blooded Roderick, and they trust that he knows some secrets of the garrison. Thus, through his keen manoeuvring, it is the noble forces of Salisbury that earn themselves the opportunity to charge!

The knights of Summerland scramble to be in position; Sir Vandagild finds opportunity for the Wolves charge a formation of enemy knights!

Beside him, Sir Elvorix, heart still swollen at the loss of Iwan, and now riding under the command of his good friend, summons the passion of his loyalty to Companions. Sir Uhtred, eager to impress in his first battle, tightens his grip on his brilliant Dane-axe, fighting crushingly for the loyalty to his Lord! Sir Vandagild glances not his colleagues, but only at Melwas, and spies real or not, fae markings on the livery and arms of his foes: It is rage that drives him now, these men who so allow themselves to fall willing pawns to evil Fae tricks. Godless mannequins! Changelings! Suffer thee at the irresistible hand of Godly men!

__________ Charge! __________

The rumbling thunder of hundreds of galloping horses, like the warning thunder of stormclouds yet unbroken… and then, the terrible rip and snap of lightning, as lances plunge healthy young men into wretched oblivion. Screams, horsely cries, wet ripping, and dying chokes fill the air. The crunching sound of fallen men trampled.

In the chaos, the Roman gets the better of his youthful foe: His practiced lance punches through the Summerlander’s maille, who tumbles from his steed with a thudding gasp. He urgently scrambles to his feet, wounded sorely, and glances around in a near panic. Elvorix turns his steed and, so inspired, charges once more into his hapless foe! Galloping back, the young knight is barely back to keenness before the Roman’s long blade rips up through his foe, wedging into the back of his neck and ripping the helmet into the air! The Summerlander corpse collapses into a wet mess.

Sir Vandagild too hits his younger foe, but the desperate young Summerlander takes the worst on his shield, wounded but keeping his saddle. For long moments the two battle, the Aquitanian showing greater skill, but unable to defeat the man’s shield and maille.

Uhtred, wielding his axe in two thick hands, sweeps the terrible weapon into his older foe, slipping aside a skilfully thrusting lance; the heavy blow rips through chain and flesh, but the veteran Summerlander keeps his saddle! Sir Uhtred grits his teeth, relentlessly pressing his advantage, laughing at the terror of his smaller foe. He lands his blow again, but it is not the telling blow he hoped! The foe keeps his steed again, but with two deep wounds, he shows growing concern…

"Needeth thee a break, old man!?" - no response, only another chop of a Summerlander blade.

Lances shattering, a single great-axe whirling among the knights; the Salisbury line enjoys similar success to the Wolves, though men on both sides fall! Alas, the men of Summerland have more knights, and this advantage now starts to show as some of Salisbury battle two foes…

__________ The Mangling of Maille __________

Sir Elvorix, fresh from his quick victory, is at once pressed by a pair of more senior Summerlanders: One perhaps in his prime, notable among his own colleagues. He narrows his eyes, keen to fight well and keep these foes busy while his friends tackle theirs; perhaps these knights engaged him for the Roman’s gruesome display against their own companion? Regardless, they engage with swords drawn! The Roman fights well, but these knights are not green - they both overcome his sword, but not the best of his armour!

Beside him, Sir Vandagild unhorses his foe, his heavy thrust driving the younger man from his rearing steed and cutting into his fae-touched flesh; the ailing knight hits the ground hard, but lurches clumsily to his feet still ready to fight. Sir Uhtred continues chopping at his foe, but once more, miraculously, the maille holds! The huge power of the hulking Berroc, well known among his sparring partners, has yet to manifest in the engagement...

Sir Elvorix is pressed hard; once more his two foes, working well together, overcome his broadly flashing blade: And woe! His fine sword is sent tumbling from his hand as the notable knight strikes home! Sir Elvorix holds his steed, but the small wounds are amassing. Blood trickles down both arms, and the edges of his vision darken. Nearby, Sir Vandagild bears down on the dismounted knight before him; he slams aside the enemy's shield, and with a back-cut cleanly separates the foe’s head from shoulder.

Uhtred, to his weakening opponent: "I have to give thee credit, old-man! Be’est thee a tenacious foe!"

And with that, he slams his huge weapon home once more; jerking the enemy's shield aside with a heavy pull and ripping the blade back, tearing open the man's throat. The veteran summerlander tumbles, gasping and torrenting blood, to die in the dirt.

As the battle rages on, the eschille’s manoeuvring, engaging and disengaging, battling enemy footmen as they each keep track of their knightly foes. Neither side has taken many losses, the robust armour of the Britons making telling blows uncommon.

Sir Vandagild takes his chance to survey the battle: From the flank, a formation of knights emerge: A full eschille, which slams with full head into Sir Melwas left flank. Sirs Vandagild and Elvorix recognise the banner: Sir Brastias! The forces are equalled!

With their foes fallen; Sirs Uhtred and Vandagild turn to each other; the younger man calls first – “Go! Help Elvorix, I'll fight the newer foe!”

Sir Elvorix fights defensively, re-arming with the help of squire Vandimund, while calling to his friend’s aid. Sir Vandagild engages the notable knight, who slashes at both Salisbury men, trying to put the hard-pressed Roman away!

“Elvorix!” the Aquitanian calls back, already riding hard, “I come! Hold!”

The passionate hunter thrusts his blade deep into the skilled enemy’s rib, driving him irresistibly from his steed! The shocked Summerlander thuds hard upon the ground, smashing his head and unconscious!

From the lines, another Summerlander knight engages Uhtred, ripping his sword into the young man's shoulder, driving broken links of maille into his broad muscle.

__________ The Sword of Summerland __________

A great green steed manoeuvres deftly among the men of Salisbury nearby: The rider, Sir Melwas, wreaks wretched, fae-touched havoc with his grey blade! While the rest of his forces take losses, the Sword of Summerland carves a swathe through the good men of Roderick.

Sir Vandagild clunks Elvorix, now fighting on even terms, with his shield: "Hold, Elvorix! Yonder demon calls for my wrath; I will be back!" he growls, nodding toward the enemy champion by explanation. The Aquitanian, enraged, spurs his horse away from his friend’s battle, avoiding the Summerlanders slashing parting stroke! Sir Elvorix takes advantage of the man's distraction, whipping his sword into the foe's head, denting the helmet, cutting his brow, and knocking him from his steed! But still, the man lives! Beside him, Sir Uhtred gets a good cut into the side of his foe; he winces but continues the battle!

"We meet again!" Sir Vandagild growls, as Sir Melwas turns to meet him.

The Sword of Summerland is clad in exceptional maille, and his face maintains a still, eerie calm. He glances briefly, systematically, methodically landing his blows on a falling foe, and soon calmly readied for the hate-filled Aquitanian’s assault.

But the manoeuvre is folly; Sir Vandagild, in his spiteful, furious rush, is impeded by the churning men of the battlefield, and cannot commit his full skill to the first engagement. The Aquitanian’s face is twisted in rage at this Fae Foe; Sir Melwas, in complete serenity, a polar opposite.

Sir Vandagild fears not the man’s power; he trusts his armour, resilience, and horsemanship; and he cannot allow this fiend to live a moment longer. His warrior-mind calculates in an instant; his best chance is aggression. Thus, ignoring the warning feints and sharp point of Melwas’ blade, he angles for his own perfect strike: The Aquitanian raises his weapon high, to strike second, an irresistible blow that will whip the demon-touched head from its cursed shoulders.

But Sir Melwas is enchanted, and God wishes Vandagild some trial: The Sword of Summerland misses not his opportunity; his own long thrust indeed lands first, and lands well: The blade cuts too keenly, too deeply, slicing through the man-made maille, to the hilt, into Vandagild's side; not a powerful blow as the Aquitanian knew, but a perfectly placed one, and guided with foul magic. Though he does not feel the blade, Vandagild knows of it; for his arms at once weaken, and his own blow never lands.

The Aquitanian’s red his eyes lock those tranquil pale orbs in Melwas’ face; and as grey mist sneaks into the edges, sword tumbling from a dangling fist, he sights down to the blade in his rib. In the hilt is set an enormous, impossible, green jewel in the hilt; it is too brilliant for this world, and it absorbs the light around it. The blade itself he sees, as it pulls cleanly from his rib; it is a dull grey, unable to shine beside such a magnificent thing as the stone. Vandagild scowls weakly, still vile, and falls to the dirt, unconscious.

__________ A Battle is Won __________

Riding down his unhorsed foe, Sir Elvorix leans low from his horse, driving his blade through the enemy's helmet; it takes him a moment to prise the ruined helm from his blade. Sir Uhtred lands another blow, once more uncommonly gentle, but enough to knock the man from his steed.

Alas, squire Atticus, still busy securing the unconscious notable knight, Vandagild’s earlier conquest, cannot help the Aquitanian escape; the wounded man is captured.

Though Casualties mount on both sides; the battle is in the balance; Sirs Myles and Porkins still fight beside their eschille companions! Sir Elvorix rides to assist the latter, who has already once wounded his man. The Roman and his former squire both land blows, but the enemy holds firm; deflecting Porkin's blow with his shield as Elvorix cuts deep. Uhtred charges past his dismounted foe, cleanly cutting him in two through the abdomen!

The Roman berates Porkins for attacking the foe's shield, demonstrating the better technique: Elvorix's blade thrusts into the Summerlander's eye, and a bloody fountain follows as he pulls it free. "You'll have to teach me that some other time!" Porkins calls! Elvorix winks, and rides off. Uhtred rides after the withdrawing foe, trying to bear down on an evading knight! He outmanoeuvres the man who, separated from his foes, wisely surrenders to Sir Uhtred.

The two Wolves of Logres continue to battle the forces of Summerland, smashing infantry formations, driving knights away, and consolidating the growing advantage of Salisbury. Though Melwas is an unnatural terror, he cannot be everywhere at once. Soon enough, the Prince of Summerland quits the field, pulling such men as he has away and toward the forest.

__________ A Battle is Won __________

Earl Roderick takes stock: He has lost some knights, but winning the battle has lessened the casualties and captured. Sir Vandagild, alas, is not among the knights recovered.

The Aquitanian regains consciousness in the company of Summerland Knights and priests, who retreat back to Summerland. Vandagild, still enraged by the Fae around him, spits bloody insults at his captors. Despite this, he is surprised by the reasonable and, honestly, good treatment by his hated foe - he is given good food, water, and medical treatment.

Meanwhile, Salisbury settles his army in to siege Devizes. At once he calls for the defenders to surrender; they do not. The men of Salisbury start to encamp around the castle. Sir Brastias is still there with his Cornish Knights. Roderick is happy to see him; several wounded are being treated in the rear, and many Summerland Knights are held captive. Sir Elvorix is surprised that the foe did not surrender; clearly the Salisbury force is the better, and by choosing to hold so long they are offering themselves for death and slaughter when finally the bastion falls.

The siege continues, as sieges do.

Several weeks later, Sir Melwas reappears, once more on the hill of his first battle, and once more a sizeable army is at his back; not quite as large as the first, but still large. The men of Salisbury murmur; how muster he this force? So many were slain and captured…

A rider is sent forth from his lines, wearing the livery of Cadwy. Notably, previous messengers did not bear this heraldry. The messenger rides forth confidently, directly to Roderick’s tent; knights of Salisbury, of course ride forth, blades drawn, to escort him safely forth.

The rider calls forth: He addresses the Knights of Salisbury; and calls Roderick by his full set of epithets; compliments he offers, knowing well that Roderick is a noble and just man. He continues, for some time, filling the tense void with kind words and politicking.

Soon, Roderick grumpily thrusts open the flap of his tent and steps forth to hear.

“King Cadwy offers an accord, in order to avoid bloodshed, and a costly winter siege. In exchange for Devizes, Earl Roderick shall renounce all claims on lands further into Summerland's territory. Moreover, Earl Roderick shall release a member of his family to be kept as a ward, and to be educated in the ways of Summerland.”

Sir Elvorix scoffs at once: “Pft! Ridiculous. Time, be it, to kill the messenger?”

Sir Uhtred nods simply by his side: “It is time to drive Summerland into the sea”

Sir Elvorix scans the arrayed forces: The numbers seem even, with Brastias at the Salisbury side. The Roman is confident Roderick would destroy the foe once more. Sir Uhtred notes that they do have the hill; and they could charge into the camp presently. Moreover, Salisbury's forces are not arrayed in battle lines; Uhtred is not so confident as his senior companion. Still, he shrugs and says this:

“Eh. From swampy land to Summer Point, all of Summerland will become part of Salisbury.”

He hefts his masterwork axe, appreciating its weight and edge.

The Silence in the camp fades, as other knights start to murmur, mostly about the demands set by Summerland. Finally, the Earl himself speaks; his chest swells as he does:

“Sooner would I see my family burned at the stake, before I relinquish my claims to Summerland, and thee, dishonorable bunch!" He spits on the floor.

Now begone, wretch! Lest my knights arrest thee proper!”

Sir Elvorix cheers, and other men beside join his proud chorus!

From atop the Hill, Sir Melwas awaits the return of his messenger and, after a brief consultation, retreats; he does not charge down the hill and crush the disarrayed forces. Perhaps the force was a trick? Some fae magic wrought to dishearten the men of Salisbury? Still, there are relieved men in the ranks of Salisbury.

__________

The Siege continues into the fall. Roderick asks for additional time beyond their obligation. Most Knights give it eagerly. Sir Cadel is among those that leaves. Brastias withdraws, but he intends to send more knights to replace the men of Cornwall. Sir Elvorix sighs, sending a letter to Prince Madoc - we are fighting the Summerlanders, and we must delay our hunting trip until next year. The Roman opts to stay, but summons his wife, Lady Diane, to the front. He wishes for a son. The difficult nature of the war camp somewhat impedes their efforts.

Uhtred volunteers to stay eagerly.

__________ A Magical Mystery Tour __________

As Winter comes, Summerland's camp is disbanded. Sir Vandagild, still captive with some small number of fellow men, spends most of his time healing and praying. Though he knows not well the holy words of Arian Christianity, he has been spending many hours with the erstwhile Father Perticus. The British Christian exorcist resides now, by Vandagild’s request, in the Church of St. Amphibalus, constructed in the Aquitanian’s own lands at his own expense. Thus, the two men often share words, Holy and otherwise. Thus, Vandagild prays in the more well-known phrases of British Christianity, which he can bring more easily to mind. He asks God for protection against Fae Sorcery, the strength to heal, and the opportunity for vengeance.

As he rests, scowling and restrained, Sir Vandagild watches the lands of Cadwy roll past. He expects more and stranger things; but though they march past some bogs, these lands seem unexpectedly normal. A trick, no doubt, to deceive the Godly outsiders. Finally, they traverse a vast swamp, where he and the other captives are brought to a castle. A giant marsh stretches to the horizon, spanned by a huge bridge that leads to a grand bastion, which sits sturdy among the reeds and swamp-water. He scoffs: Clearly it is daft to build a castle in a swamp, but they have built it just the same. His opinion of them lowers, incredulously. He has heard of this castle: It is known as The Castle of the Great Bridge.

Within the long hall, a very, very old man rests comfortably on the throne. Beside him, and all down the hall, great stone pillars hold up the high, ornate roof. Between the pillars and the wall are pools of water; each is somehow illuminated from beneath, causing watery shadows to dance about the room in beautiful, intriguing patterns; aquamarine, cerulean and shadowy cyan twirl slow, dancing turns about the ceiling. There is but one fireplace, a haven of warm light. Judging from the banners, and grandeur, this must be King Cadwy himself. It smells, in this hall, of healthy, living moor; soft earthy tones, fresh herbs, and kind frogs. The scene is beautiful, calming, and serene. Sir Vandagild hates it.

The voice from the throne, unlike that of the other Lords of Logres, is a quiet, modest one, softened with age and calm.

It asks this: "Will ye abide by the rules of Hospitality in this, my home?"

Vandagild thinks a moment: He knows Cadwy is a noble, and given rightful lordship of this Land by the king. And the man has him at advantage. Unlike the demonic beaver, the Aquitanian hunter respects this man's claim to Hospitality. Moreover, he must bide his time until his freedom can be gained.

He replies slowly, carefully: “So long as no Fae trickery wieldeth thee, to undermine my will and senses, I will abide by Hospitality.”

The king nods slowly; the nearby men release the Aquitanian’s bonds.

The King’s soft, calm voice breathes forth once more: “If triest thou to leave, my men will not put thee to the sword; but this is a manner of Honour. I hope, as a man of Roderick, that thou still havest thine. I, at least, keep my word.”

Sir Vandagild nods, half turning to leave, but not:

“Captured, hath I”, the Aquitanian adds, “a knight of thine; a man, if men thou do lead, of notable form and arms, it seems. Seek Earl Roderick: A good man, and man indeed. I urge thee: Trade thy vassal’s freedom for mine; I wish not dwell here.”

He turns away: Striding tall, whispering prayer, he glanceth not to the fae-touched pools at his flanks. The Salisbury knight is henceforth given fine meals and a place to sleep and, more presently, released to freely wander the strange halls of the Castle of the Great Bridge…

__________

 

King Arthur Pendragon 5.2

 

Image from: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ywain-Gawain.JPG