Falco's Reign-Part 54 aka Battle of Orcfang Peak 3

Ronan watched, grinding his teeth, as he saw so many brave warriors being shot down and so many more run in a blind panic. He was a tall, heavy man with the posture and face of a simple brute and a grinding voice to match that look. But looks can be deceiving. He had brains as well.
“Form ranks, damn you!” he roared above the shouts of blind panic and the shrieks and pleas of the dying and the wounded. “Captains! Abandon column formation and form battle ranks! Keep your distance from those woods. Stay clear from the god damn gap. Stop those survivors from running off! This is just a setback! That’s all! We have plenty of warriors to crush that whelp and his horde of adventurers and freaks! By Loki’s balls! Form ranks or I’ll gut you myself!”
It was crude but effective. The companies that had still been outside the gap quickly formed a strong, stable battle line. The survivors of the other companies were stopped in their tracks. Some that had been closest to the plain could still be formed in their own formation, but others were so badly mauled, they had to be divided over other units. Ronan, who had now formally taken command over the army, constantly rode up and down behind the ranked up army, shouting orders, cursing and encouraging, until he was sure he had whipped his army back into a decent fighting unit. At the same time, he tried to assess the damage. He cursed softly when he realized he had lost no less than the equivalent of four companies. 2000 men in less than ten minutes. Fuck! But it also meant he had about 20000 men left against only 14000 of Vestfjor. He was still outnumbering them by a broad margin. The biggest problem was that he had no cavalry and that bastard Falco did. He no longer believed Falco had sent his knights away, no matter what those scouts had said. Even more so because he could see Vestfjorian knights of the realm forming up behind their infantry. He only counted about a hundred of them, but no doubt more were waiting, hiding in the bends of that damn Dry River Road.
“Hold your position!” He growled. “Pike men up front! If he wants to use his cavalry against us, we will skewer them like pigs!”
The Vestfjor army was ranking up fast. Ronan counted the banners and occasionally checked if the number of men seemed to match that of the banners. So far, it seemed correct. At least Falco wasn’t trying to look stronger or weaker than he actually was. He counted 21 banners. A little over ten thousand men, forming line after line after line at the widest spot of the gap. That meant about three thousand were somewhere else. Some were probably guarding the prisoners they had made earlier. The others were probably his archers. He stared at the woods and the wooded hills. After the bloody assault, he had a pretty good idea where they were.
“General, what are your orders?” one of the captains asked.
“Cavalry is only as good as the distance they can charge,” he mumbled. “And a battle line is only strong if it can’t be circumvented.”
“General?”
“We cannot allow his cavalry to charge, even with our pike men in the front. Too dangerous. We close in and attack their battle line head on! If we are in close combat along the length of the gap, they can’t charge. Use just as many companies as they have. No more! And make sure what is left of the Emerald Vanguard is used against one of their weaker units at the right flank. I’m not going to waste them in a futile duel against their Varangian Guard. Put the Shield Maidens and all the tougher units at that flank as well.”
“General, shouldn’t we use all our weight against them?”
“Do you see room to maneuver for that many warriors, you bloody fool? Even the Vestfjorians can’t deploy all their companies next to each other. I want our fifteen hundred archers to form up on the flanks. Shoot at anything that moves in those trees. That is, until our companies arrive there.”
“Sir?”
“I want four companies on either side of the gap. That’s two thousand men against the woods and two thousand against the wooded hills. They have to break through those forests, kill any archers or militia they find there and flank the enemy. We’ll see how they react when thousands of our men attack them in the back. The last six companies we keep in reserve behind the front line.”
“General, they won’t be able to go into those woods in regular formations.”
“Then walk to the fucking woods in a shield wall, and change to skirmisher formation when you get there. Make it happen, damn you!” He spat on the ground and stared with a scowl at the Vestfjorian army. “Where are you, Falco?” he growled. “Show your face. Or not. I don’t give a shit. In either case, we’ll see if you’re just as good in a real battle as in a cowardly trap.”


“What’s going on?” Kian asked. “Our men were marching in that gap and now … what are they doing? Why are they running back? What’s happening?”
Baron Sorenson was standing nervously next to him. The fat man had neither joined to cavalry charge nor the infantry army. But, as most commanders didn’t consider him to be much of a warrior, nobody had objected. He didn’t like what he was seeing. He didn’t like it at all. Suddenly, his armor felt very constricting and he wiped the sweat of his brow.
“It’s nothing, my prince,” he stammered. “Nothing at all. They’re just … maneuvering to better positions.”
“Shit is happening,” Ursa interrupted him, as she watched how the columns of the Erin army reformed into battle lines. “It seems we will have to fight a little harder to win after all. But we’ll get there in the end, young prince. Don’t you worry.”
She quickly exchanged a glance with Maud. The jarl said nothing. She looked pale but calm and determined. You couldn’t see by the expression on her face how worried she was about the army and about general Roykirk in particular.

It was hell, but then battles always are. At the gap, the armies clashed in bloody close combat. The warriors of Erin, shocked though they were because of the unexpected setbacks, fought valiant and fierce, but so did the men of Vestfjor. More so because they were encouraged by their earlier success. The sound of clashing weapons, dying and wounded men, screaming and roaring, was deafening. But the line held. No matter how the men and women of Erin pushed, the line held. The only place that needed bolstering was where the Emerald Vanguard and the Shield Maidens were attacking. The Vanguard only had half a company because the other half had been with the knights. But even then, they were formidable warriors. The company they were fighting couldn’t hold them on their own and needed to be reinforced by additional troops from the back. But still, the line held. Miranda, Halem, Eric, Volsung and Jorvik fought like berserkers. None could stand in their path and survive.
Ronan didn’t really care. A breakthrough at the gap would be nice, but it wasn’t vital. His flanks was where he expected to achieve victory. The archers were locked in a duel with their counterparts in the woods. It wasn’t a very fair duel though. The enemy was covered by trees, boulders and rocks and his own archers were basically in the open. They had set up a number of shields in the ground to offer some protection, but still … They were taking way more losses than they were dealing. But even that was, though painful, not vital. Because his warriors had now reached the woods, broke formation and charged in. Soon, they would wipe out or drive off the archers and then, it was only a matter of time before they would break Falco’s army.

The warriors spread through the woods, roaring and bellowing war cries. Shane’s archers and scouts fell back, but some weren’t fast enough and were cut down. But the initial advance didn’t last. The archers weren’t the only ones waiting for them. There were swordfighters as well as a number of rather unusual troops and they gave the warriors of Erin a warm welcome.
In the hills, Narvi and his small band of Dwarf volunteers from the Dwarf Quarter in Griffnar, led the counter assault. Their axes were lethal. The hills were no mountains, but it was enough to make Narvi feel at home. He taunted his adversaries, sang war songs between blows and chopped off limbs and heads. The human soldiers refused to be outdone by the dwarfs and fought like madmen as well.
In the woods, another kind of horror awaited the warriors of Erin. The scouts and archers attacking them from ambushes and shooting at any opportunity were bad enough, but then the Claws came. They moved fast as lightning, appeared from nowhere, struck and were gone again. The officers in the back could hardly believe the reports they got back from their men, that they were being attacked by ghost kids. And worse was yet to come. Despite the vicious counter attacks, the men of Erin were still advancing. Until …
First, there was the woman. Cailida charged their best advancing warriors head on, flanked by a few militia members and some of the oldest and most competent claws. She stopped them for a while, but even her fury couldn’t halt their advance for ever. The enemy captain massed his best warriors and drove them back, wounding several Claws and killing the militia members.
Right in the middle of their pursuit, they heard the branches and bushes rustling at their flanks. They quickly got ready, but what appeared was not what they expected. It was a young girl. Quite cute looking but rather unusual. A wolf girl. She didn’t act like the ghost children at all. She didn’t strike at them and ran. She just stood there, her head slightly tilted, staring at them with big eyes. They were so surprised they hesitated for only a second. But that was enough to be fatal. Her innocent expression changed in the wink of an eye. Growling, she attacked, slicing the throat of the first with her dagger and stabbing the other one in the gut with her sword.
Roaring with anger, the warriors attacked. She dodged their assault, and danced away, using everything she had learned from Cailida, the Academy and Falco. Several more of her enemies bit the dust. But too much is too much. When they threatened to overwhelm her by sheer numbers, she fled, chased by furious warriors. She outran them easily, but as they followed her, they suddenly saw a young blond teen boy, standing a bit in the back and clearly not participating in the fighting. He startled terribly when he saw them and ran away.
“No! Arno-boy, not that way. Pumori are over here! No! Stupid cub! Are wrong way!”
“Arno?” the lieutenant of Erin said. “And that girl is Falco’s pet! That boy must he his brother-in-law. After him, men! Seize him. Alive, if possible! He’s a valuable prisoner. You go after that animal! I want her pelt for my wall!”
The group split up, about twenty going after each target. Arno tripped and rolled down a small hillock. Grinning in triumph his pursuers went after him ready to grab and bind him. But instead of a young, helpless boy, they found two, terrifying, big wolf men. They charged from either side, slashing open the throats and bellies of their enemies, ripping off heads an limbs. In a matter of minutes, the survivors were fleeing for their lives, in the grip of pure panic.
The other group fared no better. Pumori feigned to try to get around them to help her cub, but in fact, she led them strait to five longbow archers, Cailida and Darcia. Together, they took out the other warriors.
A few moments later, they all assembled again. Arno looked frightened and brave at the same time.
“I did good, right?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I led them strait to the right spot! And I even helped in the fight afterwards! I stabbed one of them in the arm!”
“Arno-boy do very well. Pumori proud. But also not listen very well. Pumori say: not fight yet! Watch and learn!”
“Oh, ehm … but … I had no choice.”
“Are okay. Talk later. Now get back to fight.”
“That’s right. There are a lot of fucking enemies left to kill,” Cailida growled. “Let’s go!”
And so, the fighting in the woods continued. The number of Erin warriors no longer mattered. Danger was hiding behind every tree, behind every shrub. The advancing companies came to a hold. They tried to form some kind of defensive perimeter around the area they had already taken, but that was almost impossible to maintain. The wolf men, led by Pumori, constantly struck at their outer lines, causing big gaps in their defenses, that were immediately used by the Claws and Cailida to slip through and kill even more of them. At the same time, Shane’s scouts and archers punished every warrior who wandered too far out of cover. Death was truly stalking them.


Halem cut down two more warriors with his two handed sword and stepped back for a moment. Eric was waiting for him, behind the lines.
“How are things going at your side?” Eric asked.
“We’re holding. How about the rest? How is Miranda?”
“She’s doing great. She killed the captain of the company that is attacking her and two sergeants! But we have a problem at Jorvik’s end.”
“What? Can’t he handle it?”
“Jorvik is doing the best he can. But Ronan has thrown not just the Emerald Vanguard against him, but every last one of the best, most skilled and most vicious warriors he could find. And now he’s also throwing two of his reserve companies against them as well. I’m not sure how much longer they can hold.”
“Can’t we send one of our better companies over there? The Varangians, if necessary?”
“How? They are already engaged in battle. Talisin is trying to get some of his sorcerer’s over there as support, but they already have their hands full with fending off the attacks of the enemy sorcerers. What’s more, Narvi’s counter attack has come to a stop. He is slowly forced back. He’s still causing much damage to the enemy, but there are just too many.”
“Damn!” Halem cursed.
“Look, can’t you get over there? I’ll take over here. The men know you. You’re a legend! Seeing you join them might bolster their courage.”
“I don’t know about that legend bit, but I’ll do what I can.”
“Good. Be safe, my friend.”
“You too.”

Jorvik knew he was in trouble. The toughest Erin warriors were mauling his soldiers. His men had fought back courageously, but even courage has its limits. They were falling all around him. Some were even beginning to turn tail and run. Desperately, he threw himself into the widening breach, cutting down the Erin warriors. But a new wave of soldiers was approaching and this time, it contained Emerald Vanguards as well as Shield Maidens. He held them off for a few moments longer, but then, a vicious blow ripped open his leg, just above the knee. Gasping in pain, he stumbled and fell. Swords were raised for the final blow, but a blond warrior jumped in at the last moment, fending off the blows and beating the enemy back with mighty blows. He was soon joined by the more familiar form of Halem. Grunting in pain, Jorvik got back to his feet and joined the fight. The men around them, inspired by their ferocious courage, came back and formed a new, although tired, defensive line.
“That was close,” Jorvik panted, grimacing in pain. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Olaf. I’m an acquaintance of Falco. Glad I could help.”
“An acquaintance of Falco? Hm, we’ll see about that later,” Halem said. “Jorvik, you have to get to the back. Let the doctors and medics take care of that wound. You’re no good if you bleed to death.”
“I doubt there will be time for that. They are already massing for the next assault. I’ll just wrap some bandages around it. That will have to do.”
“Shit! I can hear the fighting in the hills getting closer as well,” Halem cursed. “If Narvi can’t stop them and they hit us in the flank as well … well, let’s just say, that won’t be good. We may need to deploy those 150 knights after all.”
“Falco told us not to,” Jorvik replied.
“He said not to, unless we had no other choice. It’s beginning to look like that. Maybe we need to fall back a bit as well. Get to the narrower parts of the gap and shorten our battle line,” Halem said.
“That might spell death for our men in the woods and the hills. We have no way of telling them we are retreating.”
“I know. There are no good decisions in this situation.”
“Get ready,” Olaf said. “Here they come again.”


“What’s happening? Come on, tell me! What’s happening? I can’t see anything from here! Can’t I have the spyglass for a moment!?”
“Kian, behave yourself!” Maud said with a stern look on her face. “Ursa, take this spyglass. Tell me what’s happening. Am I right in thinking we may be gaining the upper hand on the right flank?”
“Yes. We are advancing over there.”
“Praise the gods!” Sorenson gasped.
“But …” Ursa continued.
“What?”
“But … what the hell is … By the gods!”
“What, Ursa? What do you see?” Maud said nervously.
“Look to the right. Coming from around the hills … We’re fucked!”


Ronan was not entirely displeased with the battle. His men were finally making some progress on the right flank. They had also managed to take the outer most range of hills, although the dwarf and his men stubbornly refused to give up more ground. The rest of the battle in the gap was pretty much even matched. What was going on in the woods, was a total mystery. Apparently everything was stuck there. And he kept receiving terrified messengers, frantically requesting reinforcements, because they were under attack by ghost children and monstrous wolf like creatures, both big and small. Reinforcements he wasn’t planning to send. In fact he was about to send his more reserves against the right flank. His success there had been somewhat unexpected because he had thought to break through in the woods or hills, but now that it was happening, he wasn’t about to let that chance go to waste. The right flank was where the battle would be decided. He felt it in his guts.
Satisfied, he watched as his reserves threw themselves against the right flank. Annoyed, he looked up. What was that? Carried by the wind, he heard a faint sound. Were that … horns? Coming from behind him? He looked back, snatching a spyglass from the hands of a nearby standing engineer. Yes … there were horn blowers standing on the edge of the plateau, in Maud’s camp. They seemed to be blowing those instruments at the top of their lungs. Others, including … was that Ursa? And probably the prince as well … were frantically waving their arms and jumping up and down, pointing to the west. He looked … and his blood froze. This couldn’t be.

From the moment Talisin, standing on top of the monolith, had given the light signals, the knights had left their camp at the other end of Dry River Road and had started the journey around the low wooded hills. After he had left his friends, Falco had hurried to join them. His griffin was faster than any horse and as soon as he was far enough not to be noticed, he no longer needed to follow the gap either, but could take a shortcut over the hills. It wasn’t long before he joined and Haldrik and Ravan and the knights of the realm and those of Mjolnir. Together they rode for hours, following the western edge of the hills, until they finally reached the Plain of Sorin, where the battle had been raging for more than an hour already. Quietly, they lined up for their charge in five groups of two hundred knights each, for the moment unnoticed by all, except Maud’s retinue on the plateau.
Falco raised his arm and brought it down again. Without saying a word, the four groups began to move, faster and faster, until they reached their top speed and charged towards their enemies. This was the moment Ronan turned his head and saw his doom approaching. Grandmaster Ravan and paladin Haldrik led their two wings of Mjolnir knights in the back of the elite Erin companies on the right flank. Sir Derfel, Erwin’s father, smashed into the center with his knights of the realm, where Miranda and Volsung were spreading terror among their enemies. Count Halvdan went for Ronan’s archers and Falco finally charged his knights into the flank of the reserve regiments, where Ronan and his retinue were as well.
The shock and terror they all caused, was indescribable. This unexpected attack in the back coming out of nowhere, would have been too much even for the Varangian Guard. The right flank, that had been all but victorious only moments ago, started to fall apart. The Emerald Vanguard and the Shield Maidens made a valiant last effort, trying to turn their rear ranks around, but it was to no avail. Halem, Jorvik and Olaf led their men in a new, ferocious assault as well. Between that hammer and anvil, the elite warriors could not hold. The center collapsed even faster, with the Varangian Guard pushing forward relentlessly.
The reserves, who could have tried to turn the situation around, were rolled up themselves by Falco’s charge. The knights were terrible enough, but the griffin really sealed their fate. Falco and Bloodwing carved a bloody track through their lines, until they fled by the sheer sight of the Black Prince on his griffin. All but one. Ronan turned his horse and with death defying rage drove his horse through his fleeing men and attacked the jarl of Vestfjor. Falco parried his blade and steered Bloodwing at the same time to crash into Ronan’s horse. The shock was so terrible, the horse reared, took a few steps back in a desperate attempt to keep his balance and finally tumbled to the ground. Ronan was thrown off and rolled in the trampled grass. He yelled in pain when he felt his shoulder snap out of its socket during the impact. Gasping in pain and still dizzy from the fall, he tried to get up. All around him, he saw Vestfjorian knights chase after his men, cutting them down like wheat in harvest time. He had to rally them! He had … In a flash, he saw the Black Prince on his griffin coming at him. The last thing he saw was a boot going for his face. Then, everything went black.
Falco glanced over his shoulder for a second at the unconscious enemy general and then continued his charge. The reserve companies were gone, running for their lives. The archers were scattered as well. The entire right flank was collapsing. Victory was at hand. Without hesitation, Falco led his knights to the left flank and charged in. Bloodwing tore through the enemy ranks while Bondbreaker weaved its deadly patterns. Along the entire battle line, companies fell apart and men started to run. To his surprise, Falco suddenly noticed first dozens, than hundreds of men running out of the woods to the east. Apparently, Cailida and Pumori had led their troops to a victory of their own, without needing additional help.
The last companies that were holding, were now mercilessly pelted with magic projectiles by Talisin and Erwin and their sorcerers. Their captains knew they were doomed and tried in vain to organize an orderly retreat.

Maud watched in horror as her army was torn apart. She could see company after company break and flee across the plain, trying to run the more the entire distance back to their camp. Kian was looking as well, with open mouth. He was no longer asking what was going on. It was plain enough to see. All those little dots, moving in chaos across the battlefield were his soldiers, running for their lives. Kian’s desire to see the infamous Black Prince was by now satisfied as well. There he was, ripping apart Erin’s army. He was a terrifying sight to see, even at this distance.
“It’s a complete rout!” Maud said in a trembling voice. “A complete rout! How is this possible? We outnumbered them almost two to one! We must be able to do something to help them.”
“There’s nothing we can do. All our available troops are there. Those units, guarding our supply train, won’t make a damn of a difference!” Ursa said calmly.
“This can’t be … This can’t be …” Sorenson kept repeating. He seemed paralyzed with fear.
“There is one thing we can do,” Ursa said. “Prepare for our men’s arrival.”
“What do you mean?” Kian asked.
“You’re right,” Maud said. “Ursa, explain it to my son. I’ll go to give the necessary orders.”
“Prince Kian, those fleeing men will try to get back to this camp. Falco’s army will go after them, but they are tired after hours of fighting. Even his knights and especially their horses. So are our men, but there is a difference. Our men are running for their lives. Falco’s men have already won. They are happy they survived and all they want is for this battle to end. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?”
“Our men are more motivated that theirs?”
“Indeed. And because of that, a lot of those fleeing men will reach us. We must be ready to give them a quick meal, something to drink, medical attention if need be and everything else that is necessary to turn them from a routed army back into fighting units. That way we can still save a good portion of the army.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Ruadi remarked. “Look!”

Falco surveyed the battlefield. Erin’s army was broken. Thousands of men were fleeing in chaos. Only a few units tried to march back orderly, but he could see, they would soon fall as well. It was time to reveal his last stratagem. Once more he took to the air and waved towards Eric. His father-in-law nodded and gave a single order.
At last, the 150 knights Falco had ordered not to use in the battle, came into action. They were still fresh and more than eager to get into the fray. They rode along the edges of the battlefield, driving the fleeing men like cattle back to the center. Falco himself flew towards the ones that had gotten the furthest and swooped down on them again and again, until they threw down their weapons, fell unto the ground and covered their heads, or in total panic, ran back towards Falco’s advancing battle line.

“He held back a part of his cavalry with a double purpose. To convince our men that his cavalry was behind his lines, instead of creeping up on them in their backs. And to mop up our fleeing army, once he had broken our lines. Brilliant. Simply brilliant,” Maud said. “What a completer disaster this is. We’ll be lucky if a few hundred men get back.”
“We can’t wait for that,” Ursa commanded, suddenly snapping into action. “You have to leave, my lady. Right now.”
“I …”
“The Black Prince will be here in a matter of hours! Take your son and your remaining bodyguards and leave. Ride for Erin. There’s nothing left to do here. I shall stay behind and see if I can save something of the supply train.”
“No. No, Ursa. That’s not the way we will do it. You take my son, an escort and some supplies and bring him back to Defalin. I will go to our men that are besieging Ronjar. We have to warn them and make sure we can get them back to Erin. It’s 8000 men, Ursa. If we do nothing, they will be destroyed as well.”
“You are right, but let me do that. You should take your son back …”
“No. Don’t argue with me. I trust my son with nobody else but you. Well, general Roykirk as well but only the gods know if he’s still alive. Bring him back. Send a messenger to Woodburg and Brugar while you’re underway. We have 5000 men besieging Brugar. I want those back in Erin as well. With the 8000 at Ronjar, at least we have something of a force to defend our land, if jarl Falco decides to invade.”
“This is not safe for you.”
“A jarl belongs with her soldiers. I will bring those men back home. That’s the least I owe them.”
“Mom? I want to stay with you! Can’t I come?”
“No, Kian. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back home before you know it. Promise me you will behave and listen to Ursa.”
“But …”
“Kian!”
“Ok, I promise …”
“Good.”
She hugged him dearly and then shoved him gently towards Ursa.
“My lady, I would like to stay with you,” Ruadi said.
“You can. Enough talk now. There’s no time to loose. That Black Prince is probably already on his way and I don’t want to be here when he arrives.”

High up in the air, Falco watched two small groups of horsemen quickly leaving Maud’s camp. One was going westwards. The other tried to follow a southern direction, but they had to make a detour, because Falco’s army was still in the way. He watched them for a few minutes, then landed amidst a throng of cheering warriors, who all started to chant his name as soon as they saw him.