Prince Oden looked across the plain towards the city. In the distance he could see the last of the enemy soldiers fleeing into the protection of Kiedel. After the last of these troops had entered the city gates were closed with a loud bang shutting off all entrance into the city. The prince watched all this impassively, knowing that soon his own troops would soon be trying to breach those very gates in an attempt to capture the city. At either side of the prince sat his advisors and generals while behind him were his main army, well over a thousand strong.
Pieter motioned to his general as they dismounted walking with him to a nearby building, an inn by the look of the sign swaying in the breeze outside the structure. The men walked inside and joined the priest Kurt Warkinde at a table, on which he had laid out a rough map of the city.
"Well men you have now seen what we are up against, what are your opinions," asked the prince.
"We must attack now, my prince," spoke up General Friendel, head of the cavalry. "If we wait then the enemy has a chance to set up defences against our attacks."
"He has known we were coming for some time, I would think that he already has his defences ready for us now," responded the prince. "Any other suggestions."
"I have one Lord," came a voice from the back of the room.
All eyes turn to look at the speaker. It was the young head of the royal scouts, Captain Darold.
"If we besiege the city and wait in a couple of weeks we will have the artillery from Osternord with us and then we can use them to bombard the city, destroying the wall so that we might just walk through them."
"But that will take time," responded Friendel. "If we don't strike now the King will bring in extra troops from Edel and crush us."
"Assuming that there are even troops in Edel," said General Osternord. "Our intelligence in that province has yet to confirm this story. If we invade now it is my infantry that will bear the brunt of any attack. Without archers we are vulnerable at the moment. It has been said to me that Alaric has over four hundred archers in his army, and if a large portion of these are in the city at the moment then we will be slaughtered as we charge the wall. I suggest staying then we can destroy their walls with the artillery and use the General Friendel's cavalry and those your son commands in Rohrgaard to ride through the breaches in the wall and attack."
"What about the armies in Edel," the head of the cavalry insisted. "We must prevent any attack from that direction.
"Then we should position the men around the city to prepare for an attack from both directions," said Osternord. "That way we can stop the King and his troops leaving the city and hold off any relief troops at the same time. We could use some of the buildings outside the city as a base, and perhaps even fortify the town of Hollfeld with some of my infantry in case troops from Edel or Alklund attempt to enter the province. A third of our forces here should prove sufficient."
"Good thinking, both of you," said the Prince. "I want you Otto to take charge of stopping any reinforcements from getting here. Captain Darold, I want you to head north and contact my son. Tell him he is to leave Friedlund and come south to Nunkappel, and make sure he is bringing the artillery with him. We are going to need them. Friendel, I want you and everyone else here to work on preparations for an attack. Start chopping down what trees you can find. I want the men busy building ladders, and battering rams in case we need them before the artillery arrive. Also gather all the large stones you can find. The catapults will need something to fire when they get here."
"Yes sir," the Prince's soldiers replied.
Captain Darold went back to his men latter that afternoon. Pleased as he was to be invited to the meeting of the generals he still preferred the company of his own soldiers. The sound of axes rang through the woods outside Kiedel as his scouts were busy chopping down the trees needed for the coming attack. Sergeant Keil was in charge of the lumber gathering operation and the captain could see that already a small pile of large logs was being gathered. Seeing the captain arriving the sergeant walked over to greet him.
"Greetings captain," said the sergeant. "Do you know what we are meant to be doing here?"
"You are to continue gathering as much wood as possible, then get started on building ladders, I have other duties. I will be placing you in charge until I get back sergeant."
"Yes Sir, I will get right on it, and Sir if you don't mind me asking what are your duties to be."
"I am afraid I can not tell you that yet, but you will see soon enough. Lets just say that it is of vital importance to the war effort and leave it at that. Keep an eye on things here for me, I will be back as soon as I can. Get one one of the men to saddle my horse will you."
"Yes Sir."
With that Sergeant Keil strode off towards their camp to get the Captain's horse ready. Neither of the two men noticed the hidden trapdoor in the ground near them, or the two eyes that peaked over the rim of the hole. Silently the figure lowered the trapdoor back into place and dropped into the mud at the bottom of the shaft. Hissing out a quick whisper to the other two men in the hole the spy quickly ran down a darkened tunnel towards the city. Alaric's men had been busy for months preparing this network of tunnels so they could spy on the enemy while they themselves were safe inside the city.
Half an hour latter, and still covered with mud Captain Selman stood before his king reporting on what he had heard in the enemy camp.
"It appears my lord that the enemy Captain will be travelling by horse. I believe that he is the same one we saw before talking with the traitors in their camp. If our intelligence is correct then he will be going to call on the support of Prince Alder in Friedlund. Our spies have already reported on the presence of a large enemy force in Friedlund. If we can prevent this messenger from making it out of Nunkappel and we will have the enemy where we want them."
"Very well, I want you captain to lead the mission, and don't fail me. If Oden's northern armies reach Nunkappel we are going to have a hard time stopping them this time. Even with our extra troops we will still be hard pressed."
"Yes my lord, I will leave at once by the north tunnel."
"Good, now go."
With a quick bow the captain left the throne room, heading towards the barracks.
Much latter that night Captain Darold was riding along the road towards the north. Although it was already begun to get dark he was carrying a magical torch given to him by Kurt Warkinde himself, a torch that would enable him to see as though it was still daylight. He was still a little awed that the prince had chosen him for such an important mission, and he aimed to see that his trust would not be wasted. With him rode three other soldiers, all from the Prince's personal guard. They also carried similar torches to the Captain, but unlike him did not seem as excited about the mission as he did. They rode in silence, hardly making any noise as they rode quickly into the night. Already the armies camp had fallen behind them and the men were now riding into the deserted farmland that marked the route of the armies march south over the past few days.
Darold glanced quickly around, noting the crumbling stonework of an old manor as the horse swept past. His own house was very similar, and for a moment he wished he was back home in Osternord with his family, but that would not be possible until this war was over. He was still lost in thought when suddenly one of the guards toppled off his horse, a crossbow bolt lodged in his throat. The dying guard grabbed at his horses reins as he fell, dragging it down with him. The horse lashed out under such duress and caught the legs of Darold's horse bring him to the ground as well. Although he didn't know it then but that probably saved his life as two crossbow bolt sped past where his head had been moment before.
With a thud the Darold hit the ground, sending a cloud of dust from the dry road into the air, and throwing his torch into the darkness on the side of the road. It bounced several times before landing in a water filled ditch beside the road. Surprisingly Darold was quickly able to gather his thoughts after such a fall, and rolled quickly into the same ditch where his torch lay picking it up and hiding under his thick cloak, blocking its light. He could hear the noise of fighting just over the edge of the ditch so he drew his sword and leapt into the fight.
On the road the two remaining guards were fighting a large force of at least ten men. One of the guards he could see had a bolt sticking out of his shoulder, but the other seemed uninjured at the moment. What had happened to their horses he could not determine at the moment. Darold heard a noise beside him an whipped up his blade, just in time to deflect the blow of a swordsman running towards him from the side. He leapt back and bought up his sword in defence, again just in time to stop another blow from the furious looking soldier. Calmly he examined his opponent, noting the man stance and swing as he again bought his sword down on Darold's head. This time the Captain was ready and he slipped to one side dragging his sharp blade along the mans midriff. The soldier gave a short cry and fell to the ground clutching his stomach. There was no rest for Darold however as two more soldiers came at him, both holding wicked looking short swords. Gripping his sword in one hand he held off both soldiers as he reached for his dagger. With a feint at one of the men he grabbed his chance and threw the dagger accurately at the second man, logging it in his eye, felling him. The last soldier he was facing he made short work of, killing him quickly with a blow to the heart.
Resting for a moment Darold looked around him. The other two guards appeared to have disappeared, as had the rest of the enemy soldiers. Several lay dead on the ground, but there was no sign of the rest of his escort or Alaric's men. Then he heard a cry from the other side of the stone wall that bordered the road. Running quickly he was saw the leader of Alaric's men dispatching his last guard. Swearing to himself he leapt over the fence to face the soldier. The man heard him coming and spun round, his bloody sword ready. Darold readied his own sword and prepared to face his enemy. The enemy soldier smiled as he watched the young captain approach, slowly flipping his own weapon from hand to hand. Then the enemy captain held his sword firmly and thrust, slicing along Darold's leg. Darold felt a flash of fiery pain from his left leg as the sword opened a large gash. He thrust his own sword but the enemy was easily able to deflect it with a small dagger he held in his other hand. Darold knew now that he was in trouble, outclassed by a superior foe. He did not stop however and launched into a furious volley of blows that forced his opponent backward towards the wall of the manor behind him. The enemy captain recovered quickly and soon had Darold on the back foot once more, forcing the injured captain further and further backward with each blow. Darold was sure he was dead this time, he knew he could not hold of the enemy soldier for much longer.
Then the enemy suddenly stopped fighting, clutching his back and doubling over in pain. Darold watched in amazement as the soldier fell to the ground dead. He look amazed at the body for a moment, then starting as he heard a groan off in the shadows of the manor. Looking up he saw one of his escorts leaning against the wall a heavy crossbow slipping from his fingers. Darold ran to his side only to watch the soldier's life slip away. Lowering the dead man to the ground he looked around, noting that none of the other soldiers were still alive. Then he turned his attention to his own wound, binding the bloody gash with strips of cloth from one of the dead soldiers vests. Once its was covered he limped over towards the road looking for his horse. For a moment he thought about returning to camp to have his wound mended, but that would lose at least six hours as he rode back and then the prince sent another in his place. This mission was too important for that so he resolved to ride on into the night to find young prince Alder and his troops. Finding his mount chewing on some roadside grass he dragged himself up into the saddle, grimacing in pain as he did so. With a flick of reins the horse quickly picked up pace again and Darold rode once more off into the night, heading north. But this time he was without an escort. No doubt Prince Oden's men would find the battle site soon enough as they would probably send another in case he did not make it, but Darold could not take that chance.
Two days later in a camp in southern Friedlund the sentries of Prince Alder's small force noticed a tired looking horse slowly trotting down the road towards them. The animal look half dead and its rider not much better. Noting the uniform the young rider wore they lowered his gently down from his seat and led the animal away towards the fields. Alder was soon informed and sent for a priest to look at the wounded man. It took two hours, and a lot of praying from the priest of Kirche but Darold was soon sitting up in Alder's tent relating the message from Alder's father. Two hours after that the army was being packed up ready to leave. Massive catapults were being hitched to horses and Darold was sitting on the back of a small wagon with two priests, who were busy lecturing him on the glories of Kirche and how battle was the truest form of worship of their god. He smiled to himself as he though that Kirche was sure to be happy soon as the two armies clashed at Kiedel. It would take the catapults at least ten days to make it to the city, a journey that had taken him only two, and he had been wounded.
At the head of the slowly forming column Alder rode on his pure white stallion. The horse was his personal favourite, it was the one he had received as a gift from the Duchess of Coeranys only two years ago and his prized possession. A magnificent beast it stood quietly even as the catapults started to roll, their massive wheels rolling noisily along the rough road to Keidel. The prince waited until most of the column had passed before riding up the wagon carrying captain Darold.
"Well captain how are you feeling now."
"Much better now my lord, these priest certainly know what they are doing."
"Ahh but we are simply the vessel of Kirche's will good captain," spoke up one of two priests. "You are a good soldier so your wounds have been healed and your heart made strong again by your faith. A warrior blessed by Kirche will never fall in battle."
"Well I hope that is so chaplain, as we will soon be finding out," said Alder with a smile. "For soon we ride to battle, and may Kirche protect us then."
With a loud twang the catapult offloaded its stone into the air. A load crash sounded it destination as the stone smashed into the city walls just next to the gate. It fell harmlessly into the ground, another miss. Prince Oden watched with annoyance as his artillery again failed to hit the city gates. The wooden doors, although too strong to allow him to batter them down, would easily fall to a few stones from his Catapults but so far his men had missed each shot. Still they were getting closer.
Stretched out on either side of the Prince's position was a line of ten or twelve catapults and behind them was gathered his cavalry and infantry, the latter holding massive wooden shields that had been crafted from the timber felled over the past week or so. He could see Alaric's archers gathered along the wall, fortunately out of range at the moment, but he knew as soon as the charge was order they would be downing his men with their wicked arrows.
The Catapults fired again and the Prince turned to watch, more misses. Only four had hit the wall this time and none were anywhere near the gates. Hopefully this wasn't going to take too long or he would have to call off the attack because it would be getting dark. Prince Oden had begun the attack shortly after first light with a volley of stones being flung at the enemy walls in the distance. This had continued for the next two hours, and he was still no closer to gaining entrance into the castle. Worse still it looked as though dark clouds were beginning to gather, perhaps another of the storms common in Rohrmarch. Hopefully it too would hold off long enough for him to win this battle, but things did not look promising. Flicking the reins of his horse he rode along the front lines toward his son and the rest of the command staff.
Prince Alder was sitting on his white stallion as usually, with him was the High Priest, Kurt Warkinde. The priest was now dressed for war though, in heavy looking chain armour with a large flail resting at his belt. Prince Oden could not see General Osternord, but it was likely that he was back with the infantry preparing them for battle. Pieter Oden slowed his horse and dismounted leading his stead up to the two commanders.
"Are your catapults every going to hit anything Alder," asked the Prince with a grimace as once more the catapult stones went wide of the mark.
"Don't worry father they will get there eventually, as long as we don't run out of stones."
"I wouldn't worry about that I have had the troops busy for a week now gathering what we need."
The Price and his son turned to watch the next flight of stones. This time it looked good as the stone from one of the catapults flew through the air towards the gate. It missed though and the Catapult stone smashed into the lower wall and with a crack a large chunk of stonework broke off crashing to the ground below. A cheer went up from Oden's troops as they heard the noise. A chain reaction of collapses followed and soon there was a large hole in the east wall, opening a way into the city.
Prince Oden held back his men though and ordered the catapults to concentrate on that area of the wall for another half an hour before he was satisfied. The left gate and much of the nearby wall as now gone, scattered in the grass outside the city. Although it looked rough his troops should be able to make it through the wall. He glanced to the left towards Kurt and Alder. They both nodded so the Prince signalled his flag man to get to work. The soldier waved two green flags towards either end of Oden's lines signalling the attack.
Then as the catapults fired a final attack before being pulled away from the battle as the infantry charged forward, holding their shields in front of them. Almost immediately the archers on the walls fired. A wall of arrows leapt from the parapet, quickly crossing the short distance between them and the charging soldiers and embedding themselves in the shields. Several men fell with arrows through their legs or arms but most of the soldiers charged onwards. Three more times the archers fired and each time more men fell, but the shields worked and most of Oden's soldiers survived to make it to the fallen walls. There the pulled out the heavy ladders that many had carried between them and laid them against the wall, reaching up to the top of the broken wall. Quickly the infantry swarmed up the ladders and into onto the wall.
The enemy were waiting for them though and Alaric's own infantry held the jagged gap into the city. Though much smaller in number the had the protection of what remained of the wall. Oden's men dropped their shields with a clatter and as one drew their weapons closing with the enemy. The archers were no longer any use as the two armies were now locked together, but a few still took the occasional shot when a opportunity presented itself. By now also Oden's own archers had gathered on the field. Led by Captain Darold, who had now recovered from his wounds they hid behind wooden shields while they fired at any of Alaric's men who showed their heads of the top of the wall. Several of the defenders fell before they learned of Darold's scouts who had moved quickly into position behind the infantry. Both divisions of archers now traded arrows over the walls, but neither seemed to be winning the battle.
Down at the gap in the wall however General Osternord's men were doing a lot better. Led by the General himself, decked out in his families ancient armour and weapons, they were slowly pushing back Alaric's soldiers. Both sides had already taken heavy casualties in the short, brutal fight but the General's men were winning. They were now over the wall and pushing the enemy back into the city beyond. General Osternord signalled to several of his men as soon as they had breached the wall and those men rushed to open the gate for Prince Oden and his cavalry which now waited on the hill top ready to charge through the gates.
The men quickly forced the entrance, struggling with the buckled gate which had been damaged in the catapult attack. Despite this difficulty they soon had the gate open and the path was now open into the city. On the hill top the Prince waited with the rest of his troops, the cavalry. Nearly three hundred of his best soldiers now awaited the order to charge. The Prince raised his hand and then thrust it forwards towards the city. The Cavalry leapt forward as one and shook the ground as they thundered towards the open gate, the Prince and his commanders leading the way.
Prince Oden rode through the gap in the walls with the rest of his cavalry in pursuit, his shield held high to stop any arrows launched at him. The street beyond was empty, nothing stood in his way. The Prince pulled out his horn and blew it ordering his men deeper into the city. Glancing back he saw the infantry had reached the top of the city walls and fighting was now going on above him. The enemy archers seemed to be losing and were now pulling back towards the castle to the south. The prince waved his army to the west and the cavalry speed down the street towards the markets. Oden tugged out his sword as he noticed the streets ahead exploding into action. Alaric's own cavalry hiding in the sides streets came rushing out towards the Prince and his men. With a load clash the two sides met men falling from the horses to land heavily on the dirt streets below. The Prince saw a glint out of the corner of his eye and raised his shield in time to deflect the blow, then striking back with his own thrust hearing a scream of pain in response. Tugging his sword free he risked a glance in that direction. The man he had just hit was sliding off his horse to the ground. He was still alive by the Prince knew he would not be for long as the horses of his force rode over the top of the fallen soldier. Suddenly his force rode into the city markets skidding to a stop when he saw what confronted him. A large force of militia had been gathered, all carrying long spears designed to stop horsemen. Quickly calling a halt the Prince and his men milled around the entrance to the central market while the militia slowly walked towards them, spears outstretched. Looking behind him he saw a similar force had emerged from another street blocking their escape. They south was still free though, blocked only by a few scattered mounted soldiers, all that was left after their initial charge into the city. Ordering his men forward the Prince led the charge down the southern street, aptly named Sword Street.
Once again the two armies of mounted soldiers clashed, Oden's men quickly overwhelming their few defenders. Now free of the trap Alaric tried to set the Prince and his men raced through the streets attacking any soldiers that they came across. They soon found themselves near the west gate and the bridge leading over the Khurinbyrn River towards the Chimaeron, or the Iron Hills as its new ruler now called it.
Well away from the main battle by now the Prince was surprised to run into a large force of soldiers marching through the west gate into the city. The cavalry charged round a corner in the road near the gate and suddenly found themselves in the middle of a group of infantry. Prince Oden quickly grasped the meaning, these were the troops supposed to be in Edel province, the King must have moved them here by boat from Alklund, risking the dangers of the Harrowmarsh to make the trip. As he laid about with his heavy, bloodstained sword he could see the masts of two large ships in the harbour beyond the gate. The King troops must have just been unloaded and were coming to join in the fight.
Thing were not looking too good for his army now. His cavalry were surrounded by at least twice their number of infantry and there will still the militia to deal with. Still a mounted unit was always a match for any infantry he thought as he sliced off the arm of a soldier attempting a strike on him. Behind him he heard a voice raised in prayer and glanced around just in time to see a column of fire erupt in the middle of the battle bringing the lives of at least five of the enemy infantry to an end. It seems that Kurt Warkinde was busy as was the Prince himself.
Suddenly he felt a stinging blow to the side of his face and reaching up felt the wetness of blood on the side of his face. He looked up towards the west wall and saw a small group of archers running along the wall firing as they come. Others in the cavalry unit had also felt the sting of the enemies arrows and at least four of his soldiers had already fallen. Pulling out his horn once again the prince blew the retreat and led his men off down a side street leaving the road behind them littered with the bodies of the dead. Prince Oden noticed Alder working his way along beside his father and leaned over on his horse to see what his son wanted.
"Father where are we heading now."
"Back to the east gates. We will have to see how the rest of our soldiers are doing before deciding our next move. It looks like we have hurt them here, but unless we withdraw we may lose. It seems Alaric has a few more troops than I counted on."
With that the Prince spurred his horse onward down the empty streets of Keidel towards the fallen east gate. They reached it only two minutes later only to find it blocked by the militia that where in the market earlier. King Alaric always thinking ahead had moved his reserves to the gates to trap Oden's Cavalry within the city. Once again the Prince called a halt as they looked around for a way out. On the walls above the city he could see the fighting still going on. It looked as though his soldiers were winning that battle, but control of the walls would be no good against the number of fresh soldiers Alaric would be moving into this battle soon. Although many now lay dead inside the west gate he had seen many more rushing along the road from the wharves. They would soon be pushed into the battle and then Prince Oden's men would be in real trouble. Once again he pulled out his horn and blew it several times in the direction of the east walls.
On top of the wall General Osternord was leading his men against what remained of Alaric's archers. The walls were now slick with the blood of the dead and more than one man had fallen to his death after losing his footing. Above the clash of steel he heard the sharp sound of a hunting horn and glancing back he saw the Prince and his men trapped near the gate. For a moment he wondered what Prince Oden was doing, but then he was the movement of troops in the west of the city. Quickly gathering his remaining soldiers around him he slowly backed along the wall towards the ladders. Captain Darold's archers outside the city had the remaining enemy pinned down on the walls near the castle, so his men had little trouble making their way back to the gates.
Inside the city Prince Oden could see the movement of his troops along the wall towards the ladders near the gate and ordered his remaining cavalry to gather into a small wedge. When he saw General Osternord's soldiers climbing down their ladders he ordered the cavalry forward. The militia ahead of him were relatively untrained and no match for the infantry that fell on them from behind, though the open gates. Their lines soon collapsed and the Prince and his men were able to ride through the gates and out onto the plains outside the city. With General Osternord's infantry behind him the Prince began an orderly retreat towards the hilltop where the catapults were based. Behind him the battered gates were pushed shut by the remaining militia. The attack on Keidel had failed.
The storm had broken latter that night as the wounded were being tended by Kurt Warkinde and his priests. Strangely the priest himself had not been injured in the wild battle through the city, but many other had been, including the Price himself. A young priest of Kirche had tended his wound soon after the battle, so neatly not even a trace remained. It was about the only good result from this battle thought Pieter Oden as he looked over his remaining soldiers. Nearly half his cavalry and infantry had been lost, or were wounded. The wounded cavalry were likely prisoners of Alaric now as most of them had been trapped inside the city after they had lost their horses.
All told perhaps three hundred soldiers had died today, nearly a third of his force. The King had lost more he knew, with reporting putting his losses as high as five hundred. The militia were especially damaged, losing maybe three quarters of their total number in the final battle near the gates. General Osternord and his infantry had made short work of the untrained troops when they were attacked from behind in the final battle.
Things did not look good for the Prince though. He had maybe seven hundred men while reports from his spies spoke of a thousand fresh soldiers entering the city from the west, less the fifty or so he and his men had slaughtered near the west gate. Worse still this number included four hundred archers, while he was left with maybe only a hundred or so scouts, who although good soldiers where not a match for the specially trained archers.
As the Prince sat in his tent listening to the heavy rain wash down the sides of the thick material of his shelter he wondered what was his next move. This weather was not a good thing either. While Alaric the city to shelter under the Prince and his men had little or no protection against the heavy rain. Sooner or later they would all freeze to death if disease did not get them first.
The flap at the entrance to his tent was suddenly pushed aside and Kurt Warkinde walked in his arms covered with blood from tending to wounded troops.
"Well Prince we have given them a beating, but things don't look good now."
"I was just thinking the same thing Kurt. The question is what should we do now."
"There is only really one thing we can do, and that is withdraw. I think this storm is Kirche's way of saying that we must go. Alaric's force is too strong for us now we must go back to Friedlund, or perhaps even Rohrgaard and make our stand there. Then we will have the advantage with the addition of our northern army. With any luck we will be able to drive Alaric south again, but this battle is over."
"I guessed as much, but it is a pity to come so close only to fail now at the final hurdle. If only we could have attacked earlier."
"Had we done that we would have lost. Alaric was ready for us and without the Catapults we would have been unable to get into the city without heavy loses."
"I had better begin organizing the withdrawal then. The Catapults will have to go first. I don't think it likely that Alaric will come after us just yet, but if he does we don't want to lose our artillery do we."
"No my lord, I believe that Alder has already begun to organize the catapults. The question is do we withdraw to night or wait until morning."
"We had better leave now, the longer we wait the more organized Alaric will be. His troops are just fresh off the boat at the moment and they are not prepared to pursue us, but soon they will be and unless we go now they could harass us all the way to the north."
"Yes Lord, I will pass on your orders at once. I will also see if I can't get Kirche to ease off on the weather for a while. A clear sky will be much more helpful that this storm."
With that the priest left the tent and walked towards the command tent a short distance away. As he walked he could hear the groans of injured men. Many would not make it though the march he knew this, but most would survive, thanks mainly to the spells of his priests.
King Alaric watched quietly as the remaining enemy soldiers broke camp and began to pack up their tents and weapons. The clouds were already beginning to clear from the darkened skies above the city and as the moon shone down on the plains to the east he could see a long line of flickering torches snaking their way to the north. A rumbling sound from that direction signalled the position of the enemy catapults as they slowly moved towards the border. He frowned at the thought of the massive enemy war machines. He had nothing like that in his army and would have to order some built if he was to march on Rohrgaard. That province was heavily protected by the citadel in Oden, a fortress that had never fallen to an invader in its long history.
From the east gates came the sound of hammering as workmen laboured through the night to erect a barrier where the wall had collapsed. It would not be needed anymore now that Oden was retreating, but it was better that the work started now. The repairs would be expensive, but the church of Haelyn had promised to help out with that. At least Oden was defeated now and once his army was ready the King would sweep north and drive the upstart Prince all the way back to his city and bring its walls down around him. He had won a great victory here today he though, despite the losses and soon all of Rohrmarch would be back under his control.
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