1584: War at the Gates – Part 8 1584: War at the Gates – Part 8 But the fire ca short lived, As quickly as he was there, Oliver was gone.
He had charged forward, as if there was nothing more important in the world than attacking the advanced archers, and then, so suddenly, he had veered off to the side at a trot, as if his intentions had been entirely different from the start.
A few volleys of arrows ca thudding after him, landing confusedly in the empty snow.
It was hard to tell quite what Oliver’s intentions were in that sudden attack.
Or even what his attentions were now that had given to a trot, and was veering off to the right.
“…He’s attempting to get a better view of our defences,” Hendrick guessed.
“Why would he need a better view?
He bloody built them!” Fritzer said hotly, irritated that the sweeping blow of his hand, that he’d put so much force into, had hit nothing but empty air.
“Err… Apologies, my prince.” Even Volguard was caught off-guard by Oliver’s positioning.
The archery that he’d set to retreating, he felt, was now misplaced.
If he’d known Oliver would draw their attention in advance, he would have kept them where they were, to pepper the enemy.
He felt a brief flash of annoyance at himself, for missing the opportunity, and after so debate, he sent them carefully forward again, just to exert so kind of presence, even if they remained out of range.
With them, Volguard saw the opportunity to move his n more towards the left flank of the enemy.
He gave a few careful and quiet orders designed to have their lee positioned more towards that angle.
The fort served to slice the enemy army up into three parts, with two parts to either side of it, and one part in the middle.
Naturally, Volguard saw that it was better to crush what pieces they could individually, rather than trying to overwhelm them all at once.
Then, Oliver spoke, seemingly overriding that.
“Jorah!
Gather your n in the centre!” He said, wilfully, with fire again.
The n ca racing, gladly, as their Commander in Jorah saw the order relayed.
They rushed towards the front, full of readiness, a re hundred of them, poised ever so threateningly in the snow, their eyes glaring down those few thousand archers that still gathered haughtily, inviting them closer.
General Tussle spoke then, through his ssenger, rather than as a loud bellowing General, but he gave the order forcefully nonetheless.
“Reinforce the archers – move up three thousand of our infantry.
Have them overlap.” The order was given, but by that point, once more, it seed irrelevant.
The hot command that Oliver had given earlier, now ended with a single remark.
“We can see better from here, can’t we?
It’s not a bad night to be outside.” The weapons that had been bristling quickly fell in confusion, as it beca quite obvious that they wouldn’t be rushing forward any ti soon.
The n looked to their General, that sa confusion written on their faces, but Jorah quickly recovered, and told them off.
“What are you getting so excited for?
You weren’t given the order to charge.
Hold your positions, and calm yourselves,” he said.
Both sides seed at a loss.
Naturally, that was to be the case, when a man operated without purpose, it was increasingly difficult to suppose what it was that he might do next.
But Oliver knew that even that was finite.
There was nothing to be grasped that would allow him to move continuously.
No matter how much he crushed all that he was, still there was sothing that would remain.
That quiet spark of sothing would build, and the dragon’s wrath would change along with it.
It was a valiant attempt that prolonged his ability to stand as close to the dragon as he was, but it would not last forever.
Soon enough, the dragon would shift, and there would co danger for them.
Fitzer gave Oliver that danger, when he snorted with disdain.
“He’s trying to make a mockery of us.
To sow confusion in our ranks.
He’s trying to have us alter our own positions, bit by bit, until he sees the gap he wishes to attack.
That shall not work, I tell you.
We’ll send the cavalry, from both sides.” “Are you asking my permission?” Tussle asked with a raised eyebrow, for the cavalry on the right flank, by rights, was his to command.
Fitzer responded with a shrug, and Tussle tutted, seeing that such a thing was the best that he was going to get out of it.
As it happened, though, they didn’t seem to have much of a choice.
If the Patricks were playing at being slippery little worms, then all they had to do was cut off their ability to move as freely as they wished to.
“Very well, see them sent,” Tussle said.
“We’ve three thousand cavalry, will that be enough?
Hendrick asked, quite seriously.
“They’re a re two thousand infantry, my Prince,” Tussle assured him.
“They’ve n of quality amongst them, however…” Hendrick said, uneasy.
“We won’t be dealing with them through cavalry alone regardless,” Fitzer said.
“We shall rely narrow their available movents, and prevent them from causing the sa nuisances in rank that they’ve been trying to.” Only with that assurance, was Hendrick finally convinced.
He took his father’s words to heart.
He knew how important this victory was for the Erson’s, and he dared not look beyond the battlefield, towards any of the future engagents.
Oliver Patrick was strange, and tricky enough, that he could cause them problems, despite their number.
He had a strong sense for that danger, just in seeing his strange opening two actions.
The cavalry ca charging, in two separate streams, from both sides of Solgrim’s fortifications, where they’d been gathered behind their infantry.
They charged at a gallop, briskly enough to force so bellowed commands out of the Patrick n, as they lowered their weapons, and prepared for an engagent.
With only the Minister of Blades’ infantry being entirely of spearn, their mismatched group of soldiers were at particular risk to cavalry attacks, as Volguard had pointed out to them all, in their pre-battle war etings.
So it was that their alarm, when the cavalry ca that close, was palpable, for many of the Commanders saw them as being their biggest threat.
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