The nearly two thousand ranked and filed men behind him didn't hear, still shuffling and getting ready, hurriedly drawing weapons and ordering their defensive lines.
The cold air turning his breath to steam in the wind, Viscount Andrew studied the oncoming forces as they stood ready for battle on the lake's shore. The wind grew chill and dry in spite of its blowing right over the massive lake to their right, the Lake Japhethis that stretched from north to south as far as the eye could see like a small ocean. Some of the northern water birds cried overhead as they flew past, apparently unaware of the human slaughter about to take place.
Under his helmet, the Viscount of House Kairok, son of Count Strejwan, took a deep breath, letting it out again from his dripping steel helmet in a fog of warm steam.
"They've slowed down some, Viscount." A nearby commander murmured on his horse, that was snorting in the cold. The clouds above foretold a possible snowstorm...not uncommon in midsummer in Savarica.
"I'm sure they see us clearly enough now to be wary. Setting up their own positions." Viscount Andrew shrugged.
In the distance, northward up the lake's shoreline, the clouds seemed visibly darker, overshadowing the half-hidden masses below them. But even from there, Andrew, his captains, and the front line huscarls could see the moving masses of goblins and snow trolls. It was a strange sight indeed...to see goblins and snow trolls actually inside Savarica, having gotten through the Kire'falraedis ward somehow.
House Kairok, having been just as close as House Vadirska when the great North Spire fell, had scrambled to set up defenses as much as Countess India and General Aaron had done, mustering as many of the carls as possible to the field. And as Aaron had predicted some hundred or so miles away, an invading army from Kire'falraedis had two options: Attacking Vadirska, or attacking Kairok.
Apparently, they had chosen the latter.
Normally it would have been the Count of the House, Count Strejwan, who would be out there holding up his house banner for the army to see in front...and to lead his forces to battle. Naturally as the head of the House Kairok, his father was expected to lead the armies and represent his house before his enemies. In Savarica, it was one of the oldest traditions ever since the Houses had been founded, that at least one of the royal house should march out in front of his or her armies in defense of their lands, holding the banner.
However, by now Viscount Andrew's father was halfway to Ilelphosta. Having been summoned like all of the leading houses and many of the smaller vassal carl nobles, Count Stejwan would be crossing Herrsan on his way to meet with the Council of Savarica. Even if he got the news of his land's invasion the same time as the Viscount and his mother, staying at home at the House Kairok Keep, he would never be able to make it home in time to defend...unless he, Viscount Andrew, could hold the defense successfully until his father returned.
Which remained to be seen.
The dark, howling masses of goblins and their white cousins, snow trolls, grew closer and more wary of the army of men camped on the rise before them. Now almost a three hundred feet away and at the bottom of the gentle, grassy slope, the creatures clustered tightly and seemed to stop entirely.
Only three or four other captains rode on horses with their Viscount in front of the lines, mostly nervous young inexperienced men like the Viscount himself, who had been hastily summoned to fight. Shaking the nervous thoughts from his relatively young head, Andrew studied the masses of enemy below. The coming darkness and the twilight prevented him from getting a good count, but he suspected at least five thousand, maybe more.
"They have some kind of intelligent commander, Viscount." Some quick-minded captain behind him noted for them all to realize, "They aren't foolish enough to try and mount the hill why we're on it, and they're organizing defense lines. Look, the snow trolls are taking the front ranks."
"Looks like they're expecting us to charge them." Another suggestion was made by the young lads behind him.
The viscount nodded calmly, as calmly as he could.
"Maybe." Not one for taking chances or for overly bold moves, the viscount wasn't about to take the bait and charge them now.
"They stopped." Another young captain observed. The air of nervous inexperience could be felt by them all. Only the veteran huscarls and carls of House Kairok behind them looked honestly ready, compared to their captains. Armed and armored to the teeth, the men glinted brown and silver steel in the sunlight, pikes in hand and axes ready to be drawn.
The viscount swallowed and nodded from his position in front of his men, not taking his eyes behind the helmet off the horde below. "I see that." For a moment, silence reigned in both camps.
The viscount waited a few minutes, and was about to say something further himself, when below in the dark ranks of goblins and trolls, there was some movement. Suddenly pushing aside, the snow trolls who stood in the front of their army, massive hammers and clubs in hand, parted in the middle and made way for someone who was coming down through the middle of the host.
"Someone comes to see us." A hoarse voice muttered. Andrew hushed him with a gesture and watched. For a long moment, a tense feeling of foreboding swept through them as the chill wind picked up and moaned in their ears and helmets. A little snow started falling, though very few noticed it just then.
Out of the ranks of trolls and goblins appeared a rider, entirely frosty white, riding out to look up the slope at the human army gathered above. A few gasps come from the soldiers gathered there, even the huscarls in ranks behind them, when they saw a snow elf, and white elf, had...somehow, like some impossible bad dream, actually set foot in Savarica.
Goblins were occasional. Trolls liked to pray on border towns and look in, but NO snow elf, the cold white elves of ice and wind, had EVER set foot in Savarica before. Generally and for the most part more evil than goblins and trolls put together, the Six Spires had long held them out. It was like something out of an unreal dream to see one riding his white wolf steed right there in their faces, in Savarica...in their part of Savarica, no less.
The entirely pure white, frosty elf was mounted on a massive pure white wolf, just as cold and snowy as himself. Though the beast growled and snarled, showing black fangs as it glared up at the humans above, the ice elf didn't make a sound. Sitting tall, but slender on the wolf's furry back, it stared up impassively at the men above, riding halfway up the hill towards Viscount Andrew and his forces. He was wrapped in a pure white cloak and light robe, the only thing NOT white about his person...was a glinting silver scimitar in his belt, that glittered dangerously like a cold icicle.
The viscount sighed, took a deep breath, prayed, and then with a moment's hesitation, urged his horse forward and down the hill a small way until he was within earshot.
"Would you mind telling me what you're doing on House Kairok land, snow elf?!" He barked, his helmet still hiding his face from view.
The reply was quick. It sounded as grating and thinly voiced as the wind, though every word was cold.
"What we are doing? Certainly. We are here to kill you." There was a pause. "And your men. And your house. Your family, your friends, your farms and ships, everything human....all of it we have come to destroy."
Andrew paused and shook slightly from the cold. This elf was not kidding or even sourly jesting. "I see!" He shot back, "Well I'm afraid you're a failure already then! I can't let you do that, and if you come any closer, I'm going to have to stop you! Personally!" Whether or not the last part put any more weight on the threat or not, Andrew let it go.
"You may try." The elf responded, apparently not one to waste words. "Human, I come not to bandy warm threats and human foolishness with you. I come to offer you a bargain!"
The viscount paused for a moment. "What bargain? It had better be a very good one!"
This time the snow elf's reply was harsh. "There is new master of these lands now! He is not a man, but he is more than generous, and willing to be merciful and gracious even yet! Viscount Andrew and House Kairok, if you lay down your arms here on this field, you may be allowed to join this new master's service, should he deem you acceptable!"
The viscount spat through his helmet. "Wasted words, elf! Not one of these men is going to serve some unknown master, whatever sorcerer it was that leads you on! Yes, WE know that it was some black evil magic that opened Kire'falaedis for you! And you can tell HIM that he won't take Savarica with some small band of goblins and orcs, I assure you that! NAME your master!"
"There is no need. If you do not die today, you will surely meet him. Soon enough. We offer you once more, foolish humans!" The elf's voice rose higher.
"Lay down your arms, and you will be allowed to join the ranks of the new lord of Savarica!"
"Who is he?!" Andrew shouted angrily, waving his longsword. "For goodness sake, you devil, NAME this wretch you serve!"
If the snow elf could smile, the viscount thought he detected one now.
"Who is he? He is the one whose grandfather ruled here long before you petty humans ever came. It is He Who Rules the Skies. It is the Black Winged One! He is the Firstborn Son of Warhespar, and he brings his three siblings with him! WATCH THE SKIES, HUMAN WORMS!"
As if on queue and waiting for this moment, the snow elf suddenly reached into the folds of his white cloak and jerked out suddenly a small war horn, and lifted it to his lips. A long, mournful, high-pitched sounds was blown from it as the elf commander blew, and as if jerked into motion, the army of snow trolls and goblins suddenly surged forward, bellowing and screeching up the hill. The wind visibly picked up and began howling also as if on queue.
The viscount never forgot the sight of seeing that lone, white, cold figure mounted on the white wolf looking up at him expressionlessly, with that army of howling evils charging up the hill behind him...towards himself and his men. Hurriedly turning his horse, Andrew urged his mount back up the hill at a gallop to reach his men again, who were all shifting and moving nervously.
"What other black devilry do they command?!" One of his feistier captains shouted at the viscount as he rode back up to them. "The snow is starting to fall faster and the wind suddenly howls! Do they command power of them too?!"
"I don't know!" Andrew shot back, "Get the men in line! DEFENSE LINES!!! THEY'RE COMING!!"
Instantly all of the young captains turned around and frantically began organizing their battalions. Pikes were lowered and crossbowmen took up positions behind them, ready to fire volleys of their bolts into the mass.
Turning quickly, the viscount quickly tied the House Kairok banner to his spear upon his saddle, and lifted it up high, even if it was shaking slightly in his hand. He was watched, the motionless white elf rider, who was still watching him with cold, black eyes, was suddenly swallowed up by his soldiers as they dashed in a rush past him, lost in the horde he commanded to charge. Swallowing, Viscount Andrew looked over his should to face his men.
"Pikes down, shields up! Crossbows, fire at will! FIRE! Send them ALL back to the white wastes where they belong...get these wretched beasts OUT of our land!"
With a massive hissing sound, a couple hundred or so bolts flew down the hill and into the ranks of goblins and trolls, striking down a few scores of them instantly. Not stopping or even slowing, the creatures ran over their fallen comrades and undaunted up the hill.
"AGAIN!" The viscount shouted. Battle was more unreal than he had imagined...another front rank of enemies went down under the crossbow fire.
They only managed to get off one more good crossbow volley before the first snow trolls, standing half again as tall as a man, and goblins made it up the hill and piled into the front lines, roaring and swinging their weapons. To his immense credit, the viscount still held his position, banner in one hand high over his head and sword in the other, despite his shaking hands.
"HOLD YOUR LINES!" Andrew screamed over the din of the clash, to encourage himself as much as his men. Himself and his mounted captains a little taller than even the white, hairy snow trolls, they quickly took advantage of it and began riding through the lines, helping wherever the Kairok huscarl lines seemed most pressed.
Viscount Andrew had set up his entire force as one massive defense line, with three or four ranks of pikemen, crossbowmen, and obviously the classic large axe and shield wielding carls behind them. Mounted warriors were as rare as horses were in Savarica, so any light cavalry the viscount had was probably at the back of his lines, where most smart captains kept it if in short supply, for reserve only.
Within seconds, between the screams, the wind, the wretched faces and snarls of the goblins, and howls of the trolls, it was chaos. The front lines held, only as the grim-faced veteran carls hacked and thrust, holding onto their pike lines and cutting back the screeching masses with axe and short sword. The larger trolls found it hard indeed to get past all the pikes, but the goblins would easily worm their quick and agile way through the hedges of sharp metal and start hacking at the armored men.
Unable to tell who at all was winning and which way the tide was going, Andrew and his small mounted captains galloped back and forth through the chaos, striking, cutting and shouting. As if half in a nightmarish dream, the viscount somehow was able to remember the years of training and skill he had learned from his father and swordsmanship teachers and remembered how to use his metal in the middle of the mess.
A couple of infuriated trolls rising up to block their way, swinging their clubs, the viscount pulled up in front of them, his horse rearing with fright and nearly throwing him off. As he regained his balance, he saw his three captains quickly all attacking the nearest raging white troll, who was swinging about him with a massive tree-like club.
Andrew looked up in time to see the other one bellow and pick up his heavy hammer to bring down and smash both Andrew and his horse, and frantically lifted both his spear and sword. The heavy troll wasn't very fast to see things, as most of his kind weren't, and so still brought down his hammer with a might crack into the viscount's parry.
Andrew felt his arms shudder, this time screaming under the sheer weight of the massive blow. When his spear fell from his hands, broken cleanly in two and the banner dropped to the ground, there was nothing he could do about it except urge his horse suddenly forward. With a shout of rage, eyes blazing under his heavy helmet, the viscount suddenly rushed forward and thrust his sword at the creature's wide open side.
The troll lifted his heavy paw up and nearly knocked Andrew out of his saddle before the sword got close enough, bellowing and turning to face him again as he did so. This time, Andrew had to duck low in his saddle when he saw the hammer swing again, this time with a swipe at his head. The giant thing that three men would be pressed to lift flew over his head, and he offered another prayer to God for help.
Struggling back up in his saddle, he took his chance. The snow troll he thrown himself off balance by his sudden swing, and was now trying to pull his hammer back for another swipe, when the viscount saw an opening. He suddenly galloped at an odd angle to the other side, and slashed open his enemy's torso, nearly catching his blade in the hairy hide. As blow began to flow out of the troll's side, it screamed and turned to pursue the wretched human...but took about two steps and fell over. The viscount only had to wheel his horse about and drive his sword home.
