"The art of war is of vital importance to the state. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. Hence it is a subject of inquiry which can on no account be neglected."
– Sun Tzu
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Algrim, the capital - Greystones.
Half a week ago
...
*CLANG*
*CLANG*
*BOOM*
*BANG*
"ARGGH! CHARGE!"
"Slaughter them all!"
"FOR ALGRIM!!!"
The screams of injured beasts, the thunder of blade striking blade, the boom of cannons and shouts of war rang throughout the capital. All around was nothing but a whirlwind of disorder and violence, a blur of despairing colour and vicious motion.
In a peasant neighbourhood, turned battlefield, a group of men in heavy armour on horseback charged through the streets cutting down the invading forces like scythes on ripe autumn wheat.
Though their charge was valiant, their momentum was low. Their parched, panting tongues collected the dust-choked air which intermixed with the bitterness of iron. Deafening, their blood pounded in their ears, drumming to a ferocious beat inside their helmets.
The enemies had breached the Great Wall with the aid of traitors and had begun their assault on the civilians piercing a straight line through the capital towards the Royal Palace.
Extremely displeased in their hearts, the knights were clearly trying their best to restrain the enemy, but they had already lost their key advantage, caught sorely by surprise. Under the heavy armours and full helmets was a collection of weary faces betraying the fatigue that had descended upon them.
Although they were on horseback the persistent battles all day and their weighty weaponry were starting to take a toll on them. About to make a charge into another cluster of enemies fleeing about two streets away they heard a loud explosion to their left flank which followed by the collapse of about a third of their fellow knights and mounts.
*BOOM*
From the corner, the thundering sound of a cannon rang through the battlefield as a black cloud of smog exposed the position of a hastily but well-hidden artillery battery.
"Lord Aden, what shall we do!" A heavily armoured knight on horseback turned to ask his commander.
The commander, a tall handsome man in a completely black suit of armour with an armoured black-winged Griffin embossed unto the chest plate sat valiantly upon his steed.
He stared briefly at the offending artillery. Underneath his gore sprayed helmet, sweat stung his eyes like tiny vipers, dripping down from his handsome face.
Turning to look at the corpses of his fallen comrades, the man fabled to have slaughtered a thousand men with his great claymore during the last war currently lacked his usual charming and heroic air, instead, he carried on his lean predatory form an eerie baleful air as he stared malevolently at the enemy.
A few dozen meters away from his position, six two-pounder field cannons were currently pointing menacingly at his knights, two of which had already fired their charges still spewing black tendrils of smoke while the remaining four were preparing to fire their charges of grapeshot.
Well aware that the distance was too far away for a counterattack to be successful, mere moments from the previous explosion, Aden issued an order for the men for the knights to take cover.
*BOOM*
Caught in the chaos a few more knights were delayed and quickly made into mincemeat by a fast-flying shower of lead balls following four synchronized explosions.
"KNIGHTS, CHARGE!"
Although pained by the loss of the young valiant soldiers whom he had personally overseen their training from during their youth, with a stoic face and an even more steely expression in his eyes, Aden ordered a counterattack as the calvary men charged towards the artillery that had yet not finished reloading.
They quickly arrived at the artillery, cutting down the few enemy cavalrymen defending the cannon battery, before descending with wrath upon the vulnerable infantry, and artillery units that had lost the protection for their mounted allies.
Continuing the hunt, the knights cut down the last of the struggling invaders, before once more heading out to find more prey, but as they had just set their sights on a lone bunch, they heard a fervent barking coming from behind them
The menacing group turned to see a messenger dog heading towards them, when the dog arrived it dropped a leather scroll at Aden's feet and an infantryman picked up the scroll and passed it up to Aden.
[Return immediately.]
The coarse letter read plainly.
Carrying a strong, commanding air, verified by a royal seal, although Aden had the urge to continue his attack against the offending invaders, he really couldn't ignore a direct order from his king.
Ordering his men to depart immediately for the Royal Palace, they arrived thirty minutes later at the foot of a mighty structure, a seemingly invulnerable landmark in the heart of Algrim - The Royal Palace.
It was a century-old fortress, perched proudly on the top of a mid-sized hill, with its moats, thick bastioned walls, watchtowers, cannon towers, and auxiliary but independent forts defending, it looked all the more menacing, making it convincingly the safest place in the entire kingdom.
After passing through several layers of defences the worn-out knights dispersed to rest and prepare for their next run, while Aden headed to see the king.
He walked down a lavish hallway, into a luxurious throne room where he saw the young king, a tall well-built man with blonde hair and handsome features sitting at his throne, along with a golden suit of armour lying by his feet.
The armour which was identical to Aden's own was completely golden instead of black.
Looking at the numerous scratches on it and the king's weary face, Aden was certain the young sovereign had just returned from battle.
"Your Majesty, you summoned me?" Aden asked with a deep bow.
"Yes, this sovereign did." The young king said sounding somewhat disheartened.
"I have a command, no, a request to ask of you."
"Please command me, your Majesty," Aden replied humbly replied
"Good. I want you to take the Princess, Iris and my Queen Irina to flee this forsaken kingdom towards the north."
"This?! Your Majesty, please reconsider!" Aden began in a bid to convince the king otherwise but he was quickly cut off by the king.
"Aden, you are well aware that we might not be able to hold off the invaders and traitorous bastards long enough for the rest of the kingdom to become aware to render assistance, so I want you to take my wife and daughter to escape. We are losing this war and you know it, if the kingdom ends up being saved you can return..."
"If not please flee Algrim and protect them as you would your own."
"Your majesty, why don't you take them instead while I defend the kingdom in your stead." Aden attempted to reason with the king but the young king just shook his head with a pained smile.
"I wish I could, but you know I cannot abandon my kingdom in times of peril. If the kingdom does end up being saved, no-one would swear fealty to a faithless king, so it's a must I stay and defend my kingdom. It is my royal obligation."
"But... "
"No buts Aden, just protect my family. You are my brother and most trusted aide. There is no one I would ask this of except you."
With a sigh, Aden turned to leave.
"Leonard..." With his back turned, the middle-aged Duke said, surprisingly addressing the young king by his name.
"Hmmm?" The young king gave a questioning hum, even more surprisingly not angered by Aden's misdemeanour.
"Stay alive, if you die I'll... "
"Hehe, don't worry I won't. This sovereign is not so easily slain."
. . . . .
Receiving the royal edict, Aden first sent a letter by messenger pigeon home to his fiefdom at the border to warn his sons about the possible fall of the capital before he changed into a lighter and less distinct set of armour, picked his claymore and then quickly fetched the Queen and crown princess from their chambers.
Discreetly sneaking out of the kingdom that had fallen into chaos they made a break for the Northern forests.
Aden knew that there were spies and traitors among their people so the news that the king's family was escaping mustn't leak or it'll be a disaster as the enemy would do anything to capture them.
Without the castle and the knights protecting them, they would end up as sitting ducks if besieged by overwhelming numbers of pursing Hertalean forces.
The sounds of battle echoed far beyond the kingdom walls. Both women had ashen faces due to their fright, although they tried to hide it and put up a brave front, their fidgety hands and sweat-soaked garments betrayed their inner emotions.
The middle-aged duke guided the queen and her sixteen-year-old princess to a small hill in the northern forest where they waited and watched until the sunset the next day. And when it became evident that the kingdom had fallen, Aden led the weeping pair away deeper into the woods.
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Glossary:
Grapeshot- ammunition consisting of a number of small iron balls fired together from a cannon.
Bastion fort- A bastion fort or trace italienne, is a fortification in a style that evolved during the early modern period of gunpowder when the cannon came to dominate the battlefield. It was first seen in the mid-fifteenth century in Italy, Earth.