章節 88: Arnia 3
The clouds streaked across the sky in thin lines as the assembled host of three Free-cities marched across the foothills of the old Rhoynar kingdom. All told ninety-thousand men and horses beating a trampled dirt road into the ground with their footsteps alone. Arnia sat atop his steed on one of the greater hills, watching the men march.
The thundering battle drums of Norvos, the great warhorns of Qohor, and the great stringed Lamizhan, instruments of the Blind Gods choir from Lorath all formed together into a song of war and coming doom as the men marched to the voices of a hundred battle-hymns. It was like the roar of a great multicolored serpent god, set to swallow Volant is whole.
And he was its head. Lorath had sent only twenty-five thousand men, their levied rabble to be thrown away like chaff into a fire. They would do little in the battle to come, other than slow the Volante nest down with their massed spears. Their commander, a young noble named Qoarn Olvar, was inexperienced in battle and had been sent out merely as a gesture of support by the city, which lacked a true army.
He and his rabble would hold the right flank. Soaking up the sellswords of the Volantene horde with their numbers alone, while Arnia himself and the army of Norvos took the center, and the black Cataphracts of Qohor with their heavy armor overran the left, sweeping over the rest of the hopefully shattered army.
The scouts had reported the Volantene forces to be massing at the Grey Crag. A valley which had once held a Rhoynish cadet city burned to ashes by the Valyrians. It was now a great and lifeless grey field between two ranges of hills, dotted with boulders and half-ruined stone buildings. It was worse ground than he had hoped for, but better than they would have had on the Floodplains of the Rhoyne. The boulders would hamper Elephants at least a little bit, and the light and medium cavalry of Norvos could avoid them well enough. The Qohorish Cataphracts might face issues, but that was Aurion's worry.
He and his bodyguard rode ahead of his forces in the late afternoon to the edge of the Grey Crag, a see of pale granite that flowed like a river between the hills. On the opposite side of it, he could see the single enormous Volantene camp. A high wooden wall had been erected around it, and it stretched over and between five small hills. The Great camp of the Triarch Maegor, striped with orange and black, sat atop one of them, and hundreds of banners flew in the colors of a thousand sellsword bands or noble houses. He watched as elephants pulled great wagons across the encampment, which was at least a mile wide. It was a bit intimidating until he remembered that the size of the force behind him was greater. He raised his ax into the air, it's mottled Valyrian steel head gleamed in the light of the noonday sun.
"Tomorrow men, there will be blood on this field, but not tonight. We make our camp here. Raise the banners."
The army took many hours to arrive, even though the Qohorish and Lorathi had split off to form their own camps on the hills beside his own. The logs that his men carried with them in a multitude of carts were laid one at a time into enormous barricades and battlements facing the field below, and Catapults were set upon them in case the enemy made it that far. Lesser barriers were erected at the rear so as to save time and lumber.
As the sun set over the horizon, the men of the Three allied cities had erected fortresses against the enemy that would be difficult to impossible to raid, not that they thought the Old Tiger would. He was an experienced General, but one who loved field battles, much like Arnia. Neither side wanted a siege.
The hours passed into the night, and Arnia slept early, avoiding drink so that he could rise awake with the coming of Dawn, and the battle drums and horns began to wake his whole camp. After a short breakfast, the armies began to depart their camps. It seemed that the Volantene had formed three armies on his own, and across the span of the valley he could see the banner of hung Maegor from a great War Elephant, even larger than the rest, like a walking tower more than a normal creature, it had four tusks, and two trunks.
'A Yi-Ti Great-Elephant.' He thought, tightening and loosening his grip on his ax. It was said the beasts were not bred but made with magic by the molding of two baby elephants together to grow into their monstrous size. No single man could ever hope to battle one, much less bring it down, and its skin was too thick for normal arrows.
'It is a good thing we brought Scorpions.' He nodded slightly, before clearing his throat to shout over the crowd. "Advance"
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