General Hycis - Central Keraam
General Hycis felt his chest swell with pride as he stared over the field of victory. The Keraaman army had been smashed, utterly broken and torn to pieces. The survivors, what few of them there were, seemed in shock as elves roughly roped their hands behind their backs and dragged them to the rapidly growing slave lines. Hycis stood to make a fine profit from this campaign. All that needed doing now was to fall upon the Drai rear and he would complete this campaign as a hero.
His hand absentmindedly rubbed the warm leather of his saddle while the other twirled a small silver ring about his finger, a gift from his wife. They had parted nearly six months before on the doorstep of their estate, her in tears, him telling her to be brave. Four of their five sons had ridden with him and now served on his personal staff. Each of them would gain glory in this campaign and, with luck, he would be able to secure them a handsome wedding match. Maybe General Neldor would even allow one of his daughters to marry Hycis's eldest son. Now that would be a match! A step closer to an Imperial title, perhaps even a Governorship. Possibilities flooded through his mind and he wished his wife were here to discuss it all with. She was much better at the game of politics than he was.
He was so lost in this dream of victory and reward that he failed to hear the first of the shouts and screams from the west. They began as a murmur, growing slowly in volume. His staff, riding alongside him, began to turn one by one to look into the battlefield haze. It was certainly not the sound of a victorious army. No, the screams were of folk dying. One of his aide de camps roughly shook him, snapping him out of his reverie. The shouts were intermixed with the sound of steel on steel and his head snapped around - squinting as he peered westward.
A swirling dust cloud still covered much of the battlefield and Hycis could make out nothing other than dark shapes moving quickly across the battlefield. A huge cheer went up and he thought he saw something large fall in the distance. What the devil was going on? The screaming was growing in savage intensity and he felt a chill run through his body. The leather of his saddle, so warm a moment ago, suddenly seemed rigid and tough beneath his legs. His heart began to pound with a familiar sense of fear.
A rider burst out of the dust cloud, flogging his Meehan toward Hycis, the creatures flanks running with blood as the spurs cut deeply into the hide. Hycis frowned. He did not approve of needlessly injuring a mount, especially after the battle was over. Why that seemed important in the face of all the unknowns he faced, he did not know. But that was battle. The strangest thoughts would pop into an elfs head in the face of death.
“My lord General!” The elf skidded to a stop, his exhausted mount almost collapsing, one big horn banging off the ground with a loud
crack. “My lord general,” The elf gasped again. “The Iba… They’re attacking!”
“Attacking who?” Hycis was confused. The Iba, for all their supply problems and late arrival to the battle, had at least finally shown up, even if it had been to late to take part in the fighting. The mere appearance of their army had caused the fight to go out of the Keraamen. Maybe they had hidden more troops in the low ground? Was it possible the Drai had marched to support their ally.
“Us!” The soldier almost screamed the word at his general. That brought instant silence to the calmouring staff members who had been eagerly hurrying after their general with in the hopes of watching the Iba in action. The Imperium was well aware who the powerhouse in Seikatsu was and the fighting quality of the Samurai were legendary.
“But… Shit!” Hycis kicked his mount forward, the trail of aide-de-camps hurrying after him as he rode toward the dust. “What else?” He demanded of the exhausted soldier who hurried in his wake.
“They killed the giant and slaughtered our remaining Avem as they were resting. I rode to warn you before I saw anymore.”
Hycis looked about him frantically. His army was scattered across several acres of battlefield, plundering the dead and making slaves of the living. They would be slaughtered if they did not regroup and immediately “Sound the muster, hurry!”
A bugler turned away from the column and began to blow on the black horn he carried at his belt. All across the battlefield elven soldiers dropped what they were doing and hurried toward their respective units, still marked by banners that drooped in the suddenly windless air. There was little urgency to their movements. They were tired, many of them wounded. It had been a hard fight and only the actual collapse of the Keraamani lines had allowed them to carry the day. Otherwise it had been something of a slug fest, the infantry pushing against each other as arrows and spells filled the air above their heads. Another horn mimicked the cry, and then another, until the battlefield rang with the desperate notes.
As if in answer, another horn sounded, this one deeper and more ominous, and it came from the north. There was supposed to be nothing but mountains to the north. Hycis, closing swiftly on the dust cloud, pulled up short as took in the source of this new challenge. The chill in his body turned to a cold sweat.
Blocks of soldiers were moving out of mountains that his Iban scouts had told him were impassable. He didn’t need any riders or an eyeglass to make out the red armour to know that he had been betrayed. Beside him his youngest son swore quietly to himself and Hycis made brief eye contact with him. He could see his own fear mirrored in the dark eyes.
Scattered elves, still not understanding their predicament, hurried toward their one time allies and died, their screams for mercy falling on deaf ears. Hycis felt bile rise in his throat as arrows slashed into the confused elven soldiers. The Iba spared no one, not even the wounded, as they advanced onto the already blood drenched battlefield. Elves, who moments before, had thought themselves victors, now thrashed and died in the mud beneath Iban spears.
The wind, slack and unhelpful until that moment, suddenly curled across the battlefield and with it the crackling energy of magic. Hycis swore. Someone had been holding back the breeze to cloak whatever was happening beyond the dust cloud but now they wanted him to know, and to fear.
What met his eyes paralyzed him. The Western road, supposedly his escape to a friendly nation, was covered in enemy troops. Like a great column of ants the enemy marched against his rear. His best troops, held back until the end, rested there. Most of them, their clothing soaked with sweat, hair plastered to their foreheads, had stripped off their armour and began to dip their feet in a small stream. Now everywhere he looked elves were dying. In one and twos, in dozens, and in hundreds, they were being butchered like cattle by men they had thought were their allies.
“Father…” His eldest son caught his attention and motioned to the east, toward Keraam. Cavalry moved across the landscape now and there was no mistaking the helmets and battle flags of the Iban Shogunate. They rode knee to knee and gave a mighty cheer as their lances lowered and they spurred onto the field. The elven cavalry, for the most part, were dismounted and relaxing after finishing their pursuit of the Keraamani survivors. Now they were simply run over by the Iban horse. A few elves, desperate few, managed to remount and fight their way free of the surging mass of enemy cavalry. Hycis felt a small surge of joy as he spotted two of his other sons managing to ride clear. The rest died.
“He fucking played us…” Hycis said in a voice of mixed awe and hatred. Sadatake Ayeka, Shogun and friend of the elves, had utterly played him for a fool. Hycis shook his head as if trying to clear it of the vision before him. But when he opened his eyes it seemed even worse than before. An explosion somewhere nearby made the earth rattle.
“Rally the army! Rally on me! We will try to fight our way out of this trap!” Horns screamed again elves begin to spring toward their general. A sense of urgency was at last beginning to take hold as the earth shook beneath the hooves of oncoming cavalry. Prisoners, abandoned now, began to free themselves and, in some cases, savagely attack the fleeing elves. Chaos reined across the battlefield and all Hycis could do now was hope, and pray.
