Tales Of Gallanol : Ch.4 Forest Of Liedein (Part 2)

Part 2

     Guards were posted quite thickly around the camp. They were needed because in the middle of the night the Elladeini attacked. Jovian wake from his sleep near the centre of the camp, in one of the big tents, hearing the screams, the shouting and the clash of steel against steel. He grabbed his sword and his round black shield, and he went to wake Iain Cullough. Cullough looked at him angrily when he gained consciousness, but after being told what was happening he began to raise his men, shouting at the top of his voice. Jovian rushed outside the tent. The camp was becoming alive very quickly. There was a lot more tumult now than when Jovian had woken up a few seconds ago. He did not relish battle but he was a good athlete and had been well trained, if not tried, in battle. He had fought with his fists and his legs before though.

     Lanardeini Professionals in blue had been guarding the camp on this particular night. He saw them in a mass, fighting at close quarters on the Liedein Forest side of the camp. The Lanardeini had been camped on that side of the camp. Jovian could see that a couple of the big tents had been collapsed. The Elladeini must have got through the tents before the guards could stop them, but the fighting had obviously been contained. All of the Lanardeini were out of their tents and they were being joined as Jovian watched, by Baerwysians and Falwentines. Jovian could see Prince Llewelyn running around giving orders, but he could not see Deneldinhew or the King’s Companions. They had obviously left their tent, which was next to Jovian’s.

     Jovian wondered why the Elladeini had decided to attack from the rear, and only in one place. Perhaps there were not very many of them and they were only attempting to frighten the southern army. The Galdelleini were out of their tents now, waiting for orders, and sizing the situation up. Iain Cullough came to Jovian’s side. “What’s the situation? There doesn’t seem to be much going on here.”

     “There might be another attack,” suggested Jovian. “It might be a mistake to leave this side of the camp, and we have to protect the wagons. We don’t want the food going up in flames.”

     “You’re right,” said Iain. “Stay with the wagons,” he shouted, “There may be another attack.”

     Idwal came towards them at that moment to tell them to join the fight, but Iain explained what he was doing and Idwal agreed. Jovian said nothing and began to walk off to the wagons, but Idwal said, “Jovian, Deneldinhew wants you with him. They’re over there beyond the big rock.” Idwal walked off around the tents, and Jovian walked off to the rock, which was on the highest ground to the left of the fighting, wondering what Deneldinhew needed him for.

     Even in the danger of battle Jovian shivered in anticipation of having to meet Owen Gireald again. Even Deneldinhew made him nervous. Recently he could not help imagining that Owen had spoken to the High King and enlisted his alliance in his hatred of Jovian. He knew it wasn’t likely to be true, yet, but it made him uneasy all the same.

     Bleddyn, Eric Cadwallon, Anarawd, Owen Gireald, Rhodri, Hew, Morgan and Cynan were all there, with twenty or so Emywid White Guard and various Baerwysian officers and aides. Most were mounted. Eric, Anarawd, Deneldinhew and Owen were talking amongst themselves. Jovian came up towards the group, among the horses, and waited. There was no real need for him, he was just an ambassador for Alentin, an observer. He would be sent off south again, when King Lew was captured, to report to Alentin. His own ambitions of becoming well acquainted with Deneldinhew and the real rulers of Gallanol, at their high point between the Great Council at the High King’s Palace in Emywid, and the overnight stay at the Gireald mansion, had since disappeared. He no longer had any wish to associate with Deneldinhew, because he knew Owen was too strong for him, and he wished he had never asked to come north. Briefly, as he leaned back on the rock his eyes met Bleddyn’s, but Bleddyn averted his eyes and ignored him.

     Deneldinhew was well pleased. The Elladeini attack had been only a small attempt at destroying supplies, slaying horses and sleeping men, and causing confusion, which had not succeeded. True they had slipped past some guards and kelled a few men inside two tents, but they had failed to get as far as the wagons and horses. It had been a badly planned attack, which had not really achieved anything. Blood had been drawn on both sides, but the Elladeini had been too small in numbers. Deneldinhew noticed that the fighting seemed to have finished and the Elladeini had disappeared.

    Eric Cadwallon commented, ironically, that the Elladeini obviously were not used to fighting, or they would have planned the attack properly. Deneldinhew was amused because Eric himself had very little experience in the field. Anarawd commented that the attack might be a prelude to further attacks, or it might be that King Lew had less troops at his disposal than had been thought.

    Deneldinhew ordered part of the Emywid White Guard to follow the retreating Elladeini, but not for long. They were to attack the Elladeini again if they could stop them within a short distance. Deneldinhew turned to Jovian, who had been waiting for ten minutes, and ordered him to lead the Galdelleini downhill towards Caerella, to join the skirmish if it came near to them.

    Jovian was taken unawares by this order, but nevertheless, as the White Guards charged off downhill he returned to Iain Cullough and the hundred or so Galdelleini footmen, some of them archers, some of them carrying pikes. They set off with Iain and Jovian at their head, down the hill. Away from the camp fires it was very dark, but they found a trail which led down onto the wider road at the bottom of the hill. They hid among the trees waiting in case the Elladeini should pass, knowing that it was unlikely. They would probably have retreated behind the hill and escaped by keeping well away from the encampment. Nothing happened for a long time, and Jovian and Iain decided to return to camp the way they had come.

    On their return they were greeted by Hew and Morgan, who informed them that a further skirmish had occurred between the White Guard and the Elladeini a couple of miles to the north, but they had failed to prevent them retreating when a band of Norenician mercenaries joined them on the Elladeini side.

    The wounded were being treated, arms, legs, hands amputated, wounds dressed. Graves were being dug and corpses were being lowered into them. Eric, Deneldinhew, Owen and Prince Llewelyn were moving around the camp, speaking to the wounded men.

    Prince Llewelyn, who had rallied the guards and the beleaguered Lanardeini early on, and risked his life to kill numerous Elladeini, was a hero. Owen felt a twinge of jealousy that he himself had not been more active in the fight, and he thought, no doubt Eric did too. The first blood between Gallanolians in this war had been shed. It seemed a meek and mild start to the war. There was no wily Martainian to contend with, no barbarian warrior heroes. The Elladeini were gentleman fighters who had not yet learned to fight a war. Baerwysians and Lanardeini were becoming used to war against the Martainians, but the Elladeini were still fresh. The appearance of Norenician mercenaries, however was a bad sign. It showed that King Lew had prepared for a struggle.

    Presently Deneldinhew, Eric, Llewelyn and Owen came over to the Galdelleini tents. Jovian was outside with Iain at the time, and it caught him by surprise. “Tomorrow we will be outside Caerella,” said the High King. “We are going to block it off and wait until they surrender. I was thinking I might send you across there to ask for a council. You are not a Baerwysian, and you might be able to reason with them. The terms are that King Lew gives up his throne. All I want you to do is to persuade their leaders to come out and talk. You would not be at risk. King Lew fights fair, though he is a senile, stubborn old goat. You are not a military man. He would appreciate that, and you are not vital to the war. So what do you say?”

    Deneldinhew certainly seemed to have taken a fancy to him. A few days ago Jovian would have been elated at the news, but now he no longer cared. As he listened, he could see Owen Gireald snarling silently with latent violence in his face, and he feared the worst. Jovian, a man of few words anyway, unless he was obliged to speak a lot, flashed a courteous smile and said, “I will do it, my Lord.”

     “Good man,” said Eric Cadwallon. “I knew he would do it, Den. I hear you were out on a little trip last night. I bet you can’t wait for some real action. This is your chance to prove yourself. Save us all a couple of weeks. We could all be in Caerella tomorrow night.” Eric, like Deneldinhew, was a good politician. Like all the Cadwallons he was an ambitious man near the top of his tree. He knew how to hide his ambitious intentions with friendly conversation. But Jovian sensed that the man genuinely liked him for some reason.

    “I will do my best. If anyone can persuade them, I can,” replied Jovian.

    “I thought you were looking forward to the fighting,” quipped Owen to Eric, appearing reasonable for once. Jovian just thought he was slimy. “I am sorry you didn’t get any last night, Jovian, but then I suppose you’re not a fighting man anyway.”

     Jovian took quick offence to this seemingly unimportant joke. “ I know how to fight when I am pushed to it. When my back is against the wall, I can survive. I have not yet killed a man, that is true, but you should know I am capable.” Undeniable loathing, menace and bitterness was plainly evident in Jovian’s voice. Deneldinhew and Eric were plainly taken aback by it, and Prince Llewelyn and Iain Cullough both felt surprise that Jovian should have taken offence at a man they both regarded as a legendary hero.