Battle Cry V

On a small cliff just downhill from the beach’s wall, Chief Allen stood behind a long wooden table, surveying the scattered clay pieces that emulated the battle formations. In front of the table stood a large, heavily armored man with no helmet. He wore the same green robes and silver plating as Hydrick but stood considerably taller. His mid-length brown hair stood like spikes atop his head as he gazed out at the massive battlefield—a beach spanning several miles, with nearly every grain of sand lined with soldiers of either army.

“Things look to be going as planned… isn’t that right, General Samuel?” Allen said, careful not to look up from the table as he fixed his long black hair.

“Exactly so,” the gruff-looking man responded, crossing his arms.

“On the right flank we have your First Lieutenant, Charles, leading roughly 5,000 against Faron’s First Lieutenant, Darnew, leading 10,000,” Allen continued, moving pieces on the right side of the table toward each other.

“On the left flank, Hydrick leads 4,000 of his own alongside 3,000 of yours under the supervision of your Second Lieutenant, Gregory. Against them, Faron’s Second Lieutenant leads some 10,000, presumably with Pursia’s help. And in the middle stands Valblin, Al, and your Third Lieutenant, Roland, at the helm of 12,000 including 25 of the 100 Teutonic Knights and 200 of my personal soldiers, facing Faron’s main army of at least 15,000. Al is spearheading the attack, leading 2,000 men each from his and Hydrick’s armies, in a ribbon attack.”

Allen placed arrow-shaped pieces in the shape of a ribbon, stemming from the middle and spanning all three sections of the battlefield.

“With his aggressive charge, Al cuts into the middle of the enemy army and charges at angle into their left side, before turning back and retreating into Charles’ men on our right. While the remainder of his line of men follow his loop, Al cuts back through the middle and charges at the same angle into the center before moving into their right side and retreating into Hydrick and Gregory’s army on our left.”

“The goal being to straighten out the angle more with every loop around, folding the ribbon toward the middle of Faron’s center army,” Samuel remarked. “Though, the chances of success are low with that kind of attack pattern, since the enemy just needs to break the group up and isolate Al.”

“Which is why Al has been given the power to requisition troops on either flank to bolster the attack’s momentum and force either the center army to spread out to support the sides, or the sides to hunker down to protect the center,” Allen continued, moving pieces accordingly. “Which means we either have the opportunity to crush the center army’s throat as they fan out or cripple the sides as they attempt to defend the center.”

“And the way things are going, we’re crushing the center and crippling the sides,” Samuel responded, humming satisfactorily.

“We must simply wait for Hydrick and Charles to put just enough pressure on the sides for Faron to give up on holding his ground in the middle,” Allen said, moving several pieces into an emphatic collision. “At that moment we’ll send Al straight down the center for Faron’s head.”

“Normally I’d want the opportunity to take the bastard’s head myself,” Samuel replied, “but don’t you think he’ll just retreat once he sees how things are going?”

“He might, if Shuant himself wasn’t here,” Allen answered, sliding another piece up from the rear of the enemy formation. “The man calling the shots at their headquarters should provide the haughty Faron enough incentive to face the assault and prove himself. In that case, it shouldn’t be long before Shuant himself makes a move. How embarrassing it would be, after all, to lose when you have such an advantage in numbers…”

“In that case,” Samuel said with a grunt as he stretched his thick neck and arms, “I’ll ride out and prepare to meet Shuant head on. I can’t let the 3,000 Man Commander win the day on my own battlefield.”

“The plan must remain the same, Samuel,” Allen said, finally looking up from the table. “We cannot underestimate Shuant and Pursia. We’ll be lucky to see the night end without the loss of one or more of our commanders, and luckier so if we take out Faron. The goal is to execute a relentless attack, pressuring them into a hasty retreat and crippling their forces as they do so.”

“You got it, Chief,” Samuel responded with an air of pride as he mounted his horse and rode downhill—toward the thick of battle.

***

Valblin stood in front of the 25 Knights at the neck of the Teuton formation, alongside their captain—a lanky man with short blond hair, helmet laying in his lap.

“Oho, it seems Samuel himself is coming to meet us,” Valblin declared with his signature chuckle.

“It’s no wonder Roland went charging ahead,” the blond man answered with a grin. “Guess none of them are keen on letting Al steal the show, eh Master?”

“Oh yes, the apple does not fall far from the tree, Master Feng—oh, excuse me, Captain Feng,” Valblin replied sarcastically.

“You’ll have to get over my betrayal of taking on two jobs another time, Master,” Feng replied with an even broader grin. “Anyway, I suppose it’s about time for the night’s festivities to come to a close, isn’t it?”

“Yes, you’re correct,” Valblin answered, stroking his beard. “Al is coming from the right side to make his move up the middle. Despite Roland already charging ahead, Faron is beginning to spread forces out to aid Pursia and his Second Lieutenant’s right flank and his First Lieutenant’s left flank.”

“In effect, daring Roland and Al to meet him head-on,” Feng said, gazing toward the right where the main army made way for Al’s spearhead attack.

“Mm,” Valblin replied, “Al has single-handedly tipped the scales in our favor with his unstoppable attack; perhaps Faron is thinking that by taking out Al, he’ll take the pressure off the sides and allow Pursia to overtake Hydrick and Gregory.”

“What about Roland?” Feng asked.

“Oho, I suppose Faron is a man of great pride,” Valblin answered. “Samuel’s Third Lieutenant is held in high regard when it comes to strength, more so than Gregory or Charles. Faron must feel confident he can weather the attacks of both Al and Roland, or perhaps he’s counting on aid from General Shuant himself.”

“Which is why Samuel is riding out,” Feng replied with a smirk, lifting his helmet from his lap.

“And why we, too, should make our way to the head of battle,” Valblin said, watching as Al’s line of cavalry streaked by.

“All units, forward!” Feng cried out, raising a fist as the two led the way alongside the tail of Al’s group. As the center army proceeded in full charge, a flare soared skyward from the west. It burst into a small fountain of red light, crackling loudly across the beach.

“The symbol of their retreat, perhaps,” Valblin muttered with a serious look.

“Does that mean they’ve taken the sword, and the others didn’t arrive in time?” Feng asked, a look of desperate shock on his face.

“In theory, it would mean that,” Valblin answered in a low tone. “However, if we choose to believe in our Heir, perhaps it is a different outcome. Either way, Shuant will be pulling his forces out with haste, so we must capitalize on this opportunity to cripple their forces.”

“ALL FORCES,” Samuel’s boisterous voice rang out from behind, garnering the entire army’s attention.

“CHARGE FORWARD AND DEVOUR THE ENEMY! DO NOT LET A SINGLE WOLVERINE LEAVE OUR BEACH ALIVE!”

“UOOOHHHH!” the Teuton army sang out in unison, moving in on the retreating Wolverines as one powerful mass.