No kidding, there we were, at Pennsic XXII,
fighting the Woods Battle. The Woods were the sixth War-point of an eleven
point War and the Middle was down 5-0 already. To be blunt, after ninety
minutes or so our morale sucked. You see, the East seemed to have found a
wonderful speedway through the woods to the hill overlooking the Middle's
resurrection point. Every time we advanced from our start point into the
woods, we were met by many friendly Easterners who wanted to meet us. Or
at least they wanted us to meet their swords and axes. It was a very
convenient arrangement for our slain; to resurrect after being killed, you
merely had to cross the road at the foot of the hill. The Easterners met
us at the top of the hill, clubbed us and let us roll to the bottom of the
hill. two bounces and you were at the bottom of the hill, ready to step
across the road, step back and go for more.
I have fought in many, many Woods battles, starting with Pennsic XV. My
rule has always been to go into the woods, fight, die and resurrect three
times in the two or so hours of the battle. Three trips in and out of
hilly woods in armour are about all I can take on a humid August day. Not
at Pennsic XXII; I lost count of my trips in at seven.
So there I was, dead again, sitting at the bottom of the hill, with about
fifteen minutes left in the battle. Some mates were sitting there with
their helmets off, getting a drink. I was well-watered, determined to make
another trip into the fray, and I remembered the lessons of experience.
Kings reign and generals command but, in the Woods, Murphy rules. If I
waited for my mates the battle would be over, so I started back up the
hill again. As is my wont I was wearing my old red helm, my ratty
Septentrian bear tabard and carrying a battered pole-arm.
You have to understand the organisation of the Midrealm during this
battle. Duke Sir Talymar had been named General of the Midrealm Army. He
had reconnoitred the Woods site and was pretty sure he knew where the East
would plant its Queen's Banner, the main objective of the Midrealm forces.
When the battle started, His Grace strode half-way up the hill, wearing
his gleaming steel helm with gilt ducal coronet (a.k.a. his "hit-me" hat).
He wore his belt and chain as a Knight, and he carried a sword and his
shield, blazoned with a black field and silver stag. Yes, it was
definitely Talymar, a real legend of the Society (and an outstanding
general).
Duke Talymar stood on the side of the hill and, as the fighters streamed
towards him, he told the columns to halt and kneel. "Wait here. When we
gather three hundred fighters" (for he knew the East would deploy about
150 fighters as a banner guard and Talymar likes at least 2:1 odds in the
attack) "we'll advance, attack the banner guard, take the Eastern Queen's
banner, win the battle and turn this War around."
So His Grace stood there and watched his column assemble. 100 fighters;
150; 200; 250. He was getting ready to move them out when a runner came
from the flank. "The King needs two hundred men over here NOW!". So two
hundred of His Grace's fighters stood and followed the runner. Duke
Talymar started assembling another column. Soon he had 100 fighters; then
200; then 250; then another runner arrived. "The Prince of the Middle
needs one hundred swords over here NOW!" So another hundred fighters stood
up and disappeared into the woods after the runner, and His Grace started
to assemble his column again.
This happened all afternoon. His Grace stood on the hill-side assembling
armies for other leaders. Finally it was about fifteen minutes or so to
the end of the battle. Talymar had no more time; he'd need every minute
remaining to cross the woods and reach the banner. There were only 150
fighters assembled, but with no time left to gather troops they'd have to
suffice. His Grace stood, raised his sword, and cried to the fighters
before him, "I am Duke Talymar, commander of the Midrealm Army. We have
fifteen minutes to cross the woods, attack the Eastern banner guard, seize
their Queen's banner, win the battle and turn the War around. Follow me!"
And he turned and led his column into the woods, just as I trudged by.
Now I was tired. I was at the stage where I had two speeds, go and stop.
As I plodded up the hill, I happened to be marching by His Grace as he
roused his column with stirring words. Frankly, I was too beat to pay
attention to the speech. All I knew was I was carrying a pole-arm, His
Grace had a large shield behind which I could hide when we met our Eastern
friends yet again, and he had just yelled "Follow me!" So I fell in behind
His Grace and kept plodding up the hill.
So there we were; His Grace, me, and behind us 150 fighters (to be fair,
His Grace's version would say "There I was, myself and 151 fighters". But
I digress) as we marched up the hill. As I hadn't taken notes and was
somewhat weary, I decided I'd like to hear the plan again. So I scuttled
up close to His Grace and said, "Your Grace, I beg your pardon, but what's
the plan?"
His Grace responded "It's simple. We march in, break through the East's
banner guard, seize the Eastern banner, hold it 'til time runs out, win
the battle and turn the War around."
No pressure. I said the only thing I could, "Cool," and fell back in
behind His Grace.
So there we were, marching up hill and down dale. There was a rustle in
the bush, off to our right. Four dozen Eastern fighters appeared. One
hundred of His Grace's column turned on their heels and charged the foe,
who disappeared into the brush. Our hundred fighters followed them and
were never seen again. And on we marched.
Suddenly there was a rustle in the bush to our left. Two dozen Eastern
fighters appeared. Fifty of His Grace's column turned on their heels and
charged the foe, who disappeared into the brush. Our fifty fighters
followed them and were never seen again. And on we marched.
I scuttled up behind His Grace and said "Your Grace, I beg your pardon,
but where's your army?" For there we were, deep in Eastern territory; His
Grace, myself, and seven Midrealmers. So we stood there in a circle,
facing inwards, as His Grace considered our position.
And there was a rustle in the bushes.
Three Easterners appeared. The last seven of His Grace's column turned on
their heels and charged the foe, who disappeared into the brush. Our
fighters followed them and were never seen again. I looked at His Grace.
His Grace looked at me.
When we stopped laughing, I said to His Grace, "What would you like to do
now?"
Duke Talymar said "Y'know, I've spent the last two hours assembling armies
for other people in hope of attacking the Eastern banner guard. I'd like
to see their Queen's banner." I had no other plans, so off we went, His
Grace and I, seeking the Queen's banner of the East.
We went up hill and down dale, with His Grace's shield hanging at his side
and my pole-arm slung over my shoulder. Everyone in the woods saw a pair
of relaxed fighters walking along, assumed we were dead and ignored us.
His Grace spent most of his time checking on tired Easterners resting at
the foot of various trees, actually.
Finally we reached the boundary of the Woods site. His Grace turned to me
and said, "Nuts. I'm a little bit off on my azimuth. It'll be over the
next hill that way." So we turned around and plunged back into the brush.
Suddenly there was a rustle in the bushes, and out stepped a young Eastern
squire named Michel de Coucy. He levelled a spear at His Grace's abdomen
and asked, "Are you dead?" From around Esquire de Coucy stepped another
half dozen Easterners. It appeared that life was about to get interesting
for His Grace and me.
His Grace opened his arms wide, walked up to the spearman and said "Hi!
I'm Duke Talymar and I command the entire Midrealm army. We can fight now"
(I started looking for escape routes) "but I've had a long afternoon. Can
I see your Queen's banner, please?"
Young Esquire de Coucy stepped back into the bushes for a few seconds, to
do whatever it is Eastern squires do in the bushes. When he returned he
stepped up to His Grace, peered intently into the face-plate of his helm
and said "Truce?"
"Oh yes, truce!" agreed His Grace, and the half-dozen Easterners insisted
that this was Duke Talymar, Knight of the Society and general of renown.
Of course he'd honour a truce! They all ignored me, but that was okay. And
I really didn't have any other plans. So forth we went, His Grace and I,
in the centre of a ring of seven Easterners, up that next hill. At the
crest of the hill we looked down and there they were; the Eastern Queen's
banner and 150 of the most bored fighters you've ever seen. The 150
fighters saw us and, in beautiful, seven-part harmony, asked the only
possible question: "Are you dead?"
His Grace walked down the hill alone, and closed to within eight feet of
the Eastern line (remember, a spear is nine feet long). He threw open his
arms again and shouted, "Hi! I'm Duke Talymar and I command the entire
Midrealm army, and NONE OF YOU CAN HIT ME" (pause) "until HE gets his
shot." For that was the condition of the truce; Michel de Coucy would have
the first chance to kill Duke Talymar.
Michel de Coucy jogged down the hill past His Grace, towards the Eastern
banner guard. The Eastern shields opened like a door and de Coucy fell in
behind their wall. He couched his spear and engaged His Grace. His Grace
adopted a defensive stance, batted the spear-thrust aside and, almost
single-handed, charged the Eastern line. I say "almost" because I had
nothing better to do... I fell in behind His Grace and followed him in,
and the Eastern foe were terribly impressed with how I sang Duke Talymar
onto their sword-points (especially the extemporised last line):
"One more battle, one more day,
"One more sword-stroke, one more fray,
"One more arrow flying free,
"One more charge then -- OOOOF!!!"
as a spear-thrust caught me in the muscle right above my cup and I folded
like a house of cards.
So His Grace and I charged. I took that spear shot (good; no doubt about
it) and went down. His Grace took a good shot a few seconds later and fell
onto me. And that was that.
The Easterners were nothing but chivalrous. They brushed the Hector bits
off Duke Talymar and brushed the forest floor off me. Their line parted
like a door and His Grace walked up to the banner. He reached out, touched
it, smiled a little smile and said, "I knew it was out here," and then the
cannon fired and the battle was over.
At this stage His Grace went into (there's no other term for it) shmooze-mode.
He worked his way through the Eastern fighters patting backs and shaking
hands, congratulating one on a good fight and another on a new white belt.
As for me, I was on the far side of the Woods site, had no clue how to get
home and stuck close behind His Grace on principle as he pressed the
flesh.
As His Grace and I worked our way through the throng, His Grace and I both
heard some unknown fighter ask his companion, "Who's that guy with the
white belt, black shield and hit-me hat?"
"That's Duke Sir Talymar, commander of the entire Midrealm Army."
"Cool. So who's the guy in the ratty bear tabard, red helm and beat-up
pole-arm?"
-- Pause --
"The entire Midrealm army?"
So there you go. I, Hector of the Black Height, have been acclaimed by my
foes to be a one-man army, and Lord Bjarki ap Owen of the Kingdom of
Aethelmearc (and a steadfast friend of Ealdormere, by the way) has been
celebrated since that day as the man who with his spear slew the entire
Midrealm army.
By the way, His Grace and I both heard the "entire Midrealm army" remark.
Like all the best stories of the Pennsic Wars, every single word here is
true. |
