The Eagle’s Flight - Chapter 231: Changing Sides

After the skirmish at Lake Myr, a few days of wary peace followed. It lasted until the outlanders reached the Sureste and had to make the crossing. By now, the Mearcian archers marching from Middanhal had caught up to the army, and they harried the red-robed soldiers, seeking to provoke an assault. Sikandar did not take the bait; a failed attack on the disciplined Mearcian lines would leave his soldiers with no route for retreat, as they had their backs to the river. Instead, the outlanders bore the casualties and crossed the Sureste with only a few skirmishes taking place.

No further fighting occurred. Rather than risk an attack during their own crossing, the Order allowed the outlanders to continue their retreat. Instead, they rested by the river and gathered supplies. The king left a strong garrison in the city of Inghold, but other than yielding provisions for the army, he placed no punishment on the lands of Ingmond despite the treachery of its jarl. Even so, the people of the jarldom breathed a sigh of relief as the army marched on, entering Hæthiod.

~~~~

Once in the land of the heathmen, the Order army crossed the realm until they reached Lakon. By now, the outlanders under Sikandar had retreated across the Langstan. The incursion had been defeated, and in turn, the Order could now prepare for its own invasion of the Reach. Only one obstacle remained. Ever since their first campaign that overran Hæthiod, the outlanders had held Lakon.

Any supply lines for the invasion would pass by the city; it could not be allowed to remain in enemy hands. Thus, the Order made camp with several aims. Patrols established control of the area, denying any further provisions to the city. Engineers began working on siege machinery. Furthermore, the soldiers built defences to enclose Lakon, even if they were hard pressed to man them all.

That issue became resolved over the next days. From Korndale to the west and the remainder of Hæthiod to the north, reinforcements arrived. Led by the marshals of those realms, several thousand troops trickled into the camp until at last, the king had both soldiers, commanders, and supplies to begin his invasion – once Lakon was taken.

In the king’s tent, his captains assembled to discuss the task at hand. “From what we know, the garrison is only two to three thousand strong,” said Ewind, marshal of Hæthiod. “Most of the troops left when the main army retreated this way. One assault should take the city.”

“It would be costly,” claimed Ferdinand, marshal of Korndale. “But if the king commands, we shall do it,” he swiftly added.

“We do not have the time for a lengthy siege,” Brand admitted.

“The eastern wall has fewer towers,” Athelstan pointed out. “Given how many archers we must expect to face, I suggest the main assault takes place there.”

“It may not come to it if they see reason and accept terms,” the king continued, glancing at Godfrey. “But if need be, we will take the city by storm tomorrow. Sir William, you lead the west. Sir Ewind, the north. Sir Ferdinand, the south. Once they have scattered their defenders, you will make the actual assault in the east, Sir Athelstan.”

The knights bowed their heads and murmured their assent.

~~~~

Mostly kingthanes dwelt in the tents surrounding the king’s with one exception. A strange quarto dwelt together nearby. The King’s Quill, his apprentice, an outlander, and Godfrey. While the latter attended the king’s council, the other three could be found inside the tent. Egil whittled feather pens into shape, the outlander lay on his bedroll, and Kate studied him with her hands under her chin.

“If you’re really a blackboot, why aren’t your boots black?”

Dariush exhaled. “I am in disguise. Your people get nervous when they see me.” He turned to his side, leaving Kate to stare at his back.

“Leave him alone,” Egil muttered with a nervous twitch as his knife sharpened the quill.

“Godfrey said he was on our side,” Kate retorted. “He could be a little more forthcoming,” the young woman claimed.

“An entire life spent working against the Godking,” Dariush muttered in his own tongue, “and this is my reward.”

“What are you mumbling?”

Godfrey entered the tent. “We’re trying tomorrow,” he told the blackboot using the outlanders’ speech. “You have your things?”

In response, Dariush patted the bag by his bedroll.

“It’s very rude to talk foreign words like we’re not here,” Kate protested. Next to her, Egil’s knife slipped, cutting the quill in half.

~~~~

The next day, the Order army marched out to surround the city. The garrison responded as expected, filling the walls in anticipation of battle. At the western gate, a knight rode forward while his squire held a banner with the head of a horse upon it. As the sun rose, thousands of soldiers stood, shields and armour shining to fill the horizon.

At length the commander of the garrison appeared atop the gatehouse. “You bring terms,” he called out in Mearcspeech.

“I do. As lord marshal of the Order of Adal, I am entrusted by the high king of Adalmearc to offer you peace. Open the gates, lay down your arms, and you shall retain your lives and your freedom,” William proclaimed.

“Fools!” The vitriol came from a Servant of the Flame. He spat the word in his own tongue. “A feeble ruse. They will slaughter us all. The Godking bids you fight! All for the Godking!”

A figure separated from the group surrounding the king to reach William and Baldwin. “The Godking is dead!” Dariush declared loudly. He wore his blackboot garbs.

“Blasphemy! The Godking tests us. Do not listen!”

“If you fight, you die for nothing!”

“The Godking’s fire shall torment your soul!” shrieked the priest.

“Look at me! I am a sāyag, and I have received mercy from the king of the drylanders. He is honourable and good.”

“Silence the heretic! Be silent!”

“I swear to you, brothers, you may be free on this very day. The drylanders are not our enemies. The Servants of the Flame are.”

“Shoot him!” the priest demanded of the nearby archers. “Kill him!”

“How many have died on their altars? How many of you have lost fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, children to their knives? For a god who is dead!”

“A thousand plagues upon you, blasphemer! The Godking shall strike you down!”

“And yet he has not,” Dariush retorted, “for he is dead! Slain by a Blade of Ruin. Tell me, have you seen any fravashi? No, for the Godking’s might is broken, and his fell warriors are gone.”

“Kill the blasphemer!” The priest practically foamed at the mouth as his words became incoherent. Next, he began screaming while flying over the wall. It ended as he hit the ground.

The commander of the garrison, whose hand had flung the priest to his death, spoke again. “Is the Godking truly dead?”

“Yes, my brother. And the fravashi are all gone.”

“And we may live if we surrender?”

“All of you shall live, unharmed, as free men.”

“Open the gate. We yield.”