August 11, 867
Gwened Keep
Caid sat at the head of the half moon table that sat in the great hall of the keep, struggling to block out the noise of all the courtiers in the room. Every druid in the county seemed to arrive to offer advice to him on this crisis, Ieusan of course was the representative of the whole of them, and of course there was then just the concerned chieftains and village elders, all over a new threat to them; two weeks ago, they had received word that some band of warriors had landed at Roazhon and had begun work on setting the countryside and everything in it to flames, for with the report included that the small city there had been near-fully razed, its occupants raped, killed or kidnapped, and all of this done by fearsome warriors with odd symbols, fierce looking weapons and armor and faces, and deadly skill to use all of them.
Suddenly the door to the great hall had been opened, and in walked Ridoreh, a strong warrior that had helped lead the fight against de Vannes here, and the room was quieted as he walked into the area in between the half-moon of the table and spoke, his eyes never leaving Caid's face "My lord, my and my cousins tracked them for five days; they've attacked four more Breton villages but have now turned south, they will be heading for us most definitely I fear. Moreover, we ran into some armed warriors who are apparently from the Duke, and they said the host numbers some six hundred men and a second force of equal numbers is now raiding and looting in the Duke's own lands!"
Gasps filled the hall, but Caid shot a dark glance around the room as he slammed his mug down on the table, and everyone returned to silence again "How long do you wager for them to arrive here Ridoreh?"
"None of them are mounted from what I have seen, we saw a few pack horses and mules, but all walk on foot. I'd say two weeks, no more, before their arrival is here."
"Alright, they are heavily armored and fight hard, but they are strangers to these lands, and we have lived here for two hundred years; I'm not about to be shoved off by some new Saxons. Ridoreh, fetch Neris and Damos, take them with you and gather all the fighting men you can, any weapons we have; we took the armory here relatively in tact and we've had some of the village smiths start working here. We have two weeks to gather the men we can, but the archers we will need the most. We will lay an ambush for them in the woods, bog them down among the trees whom the Gods hold realm over, and teach them a lesson to take home."
The men in the room smiled at Caid's proposal, but immediately set out to work as he had commanded. While the keep here had been damaged, the workshops inside, as well as the materials there, were mostly untouched and while the Brython smiths weren't as skilled with forging weapons or armor, they had taken in a few of the old smiths to teach them there ways, and immediately began making chainmail habergeon, the sleeveless shirts popular in armies around here, and even using armor and weapons from the small armory here. The three riders that Caid had sent out in the mean time would ride through the two counties, warning them of the coming horde of raiders and would gather anyone skilled with the bow or axe and sword and take them to Gwened.
Six days had passed when further news had arrived, in the form of a party of knights, bearing the colors of House Porhe, the Duke's colors and his banner, and had demaned an audience with Caid; Caid had no temperance for any form of games, but he knew he couldn't simply take down a host of knights from the Duke and fight him, so for know, and Ieusan agreed, they would have to play along. He had been sitting in the greatchair, formed of stained dark oak which they viewed as sacred, and had a simple bronze circlet on his head when the knights in their loud, plate armor had entered through the door, carefully watched by the guards inside the room. They spoke first, but did not bother to show many signs of respect "Greetings Caid, son of Gethin, of Prydain clan. I am Sir Arnaud Beringer, a knight under service and oaths to our liege, Duke Saloman III. He sends his greetings, and thanks you for swearing to uphold oaths and recognize his rulership over all of Brettony. Further more, he would ask that you return with us, to help command his armies against these new raiders. Your skill in his father's armies was not un-noticed, and a good commander is always needed."
Caid looked over to Ieusan, the two exchanging knowing glances before he replied "Thank you Sir Arnaud for the message, but I must regretfully decline His Grace's invitation, the horde is coming straight for my lands and I must lead the men to defend our homes and people. We would ask that he send any help he could, though I know even his own lands are under threat from these barbarians."
Arnaud dropped his formerly overbearing tone, speaking more plainly and flat now "Indeed sir, however he amassed his levies some week ago and drove them from his lands and is on his way at this day to come aid you in the fight."
"That is most welcoming news good knight, please, seek out a man named Cardoc in the smithies in the yard, he is in charge of the garrison here and will inform you of our battle plans in detail. In short, we seek to bog down them in a forest ambush, selected at a site he can show you to."
"Indeed, a wise strategy Comte. We will seek out your man, and then be on our way."
The knights had left the hall, and Ieusan and Caid immediately took chairs at the table neighboring each other and began a discussion on this news "I thought you send him a letter?"
Ieusan grinned, lifting up the sagging wrinkle covered cheeks on his weathered face "I never said what was in it. We can't fight him, not here on his own lands with just our few people, and with the men he's bringing, he shall leave us to our ultimate goal. The men will triumph over this distraction, and then we can focus on our new quest; returning us, and our people's home."
"Indeed. Any further news on that?"
"The shipyards here only had three small ships here, and two more under construction, but we've already started felling trees for further construction, and the shipwrights are most eager to aid us in this regard and have promised us high quality work, for their stations. If we contacted the Duke, we may get more experienced.."
"No, none must know of our goal except our own. Trust among the Christians must be earned from us, not given, or we will be on the losing end again, and we've already fought for so much. Any news on homeland?"
"Siarl arrived yesterday and as already begun going through annals and archives, to support our claim. Cadwaladr isn't forgotten, indeed many remember him as the last true King of Briton, unlike the pretenders in central lands, but many would doubt us if we simply showed up and claimed your heritage. He promises progress,but communications will take time, it's atleast a week sail from here to there, and if he strays from a port city, even longer. The Gods simply ask we be patient."
"Hmmm, patience I do not have. Make it happen, and soon."
August 25th
The night had fallen early on this day, and the dark shroud embraced the land like hug, the darkness clinging to everything except what the many torches and lights of Gwened warded off. Rain had begun falling a few hours before, much to the disamusement of the guards on duty on the walls, and they sought shelter when not manning the battlements in the gatehouse, where they could see the steady rain pour down from above, though the farmers below would be happy come morning, rain was usually welcome for crops.
Their rather dull night was however cut short, as off in the distance, they could see a small light approaching, and it was coming nearer. The guard's in the gatehouse peered through the arrow slits, some just viewing from the battlements, until it could be clearly seen it was two mounted men, one was clearly a knight of the Duke's, and another was one of theirs, the stark contrast between the dented plate armor and the red sash tied across a mail shirt was clear. As the two riders grew closer, even before the guards before the gate could issue a challenge, the Brython spoke out, shouting to all "Hail guards of Gwened, I am Teriaoc, brother of Cadoc, fresh from the battle with the marauding raiders. We have great news to share with Lord Caid, and both of us seek a hot bath as well."
The repaired gates were swung open for the two men, who took themselves and their mounts in stride through the city, and they were escorted up to the great hall, where Caid had been roused from his sleep, only clothed in a dis-shelved green tunic and leather breeches, and Ieusan in similar clothes instead of his normal druidic robes. The men entered the great hall and upon seeing the blood, and signs of battle on them and their armor, Caid bade them to sit, drink and tell. In between sips of mead, Teriaoc spoke to his lord, who sat leaning back in his chair, his blue eyes eating in the information "They arrived through the clearing only an hour before dusk, the light had already faded quick as it was. We waited till the bulk of their force was into the clearing before we loosed our arrows, and they began dropping and were confused at first. We managed to fell most of their vanguard with about four volleys before they charged the woods and we met them sword to sword. Many of them wield axes, and wear steel helms with horns on them. They were far more skilled, or some of them were, then our boys and we were beginning to near a rout when the Duke showed up, his armored knights smashed into them from the rear and then his infantry joined us as our archers rained down volleys as they tried to flee. We slew them to the man."
Caid smiled "Good, good. Gather Ridoreh and his cadre back here, we have work to do."
September 3, 870
Three years had passed since the Brythons took over the two counties at the heart of Brittany, and they had toiled hard for the last three years. Work had never ceased as more and more of their kind, either Bretons coming into the country, Britons fleeing the Saxons home or those fleeing the failed settlements in Spain, their numbers were slowly growing. Gwened and Josselin, the two keeps under Caid's rule, had seen some expansion in their time as they were fortunate to have set up a stone quarry in the hills to the north, so the keep at Gwened was expanded and the workshops that had to be removed to accomodate this were in turn, replaced by a larger distract of workshops outside the walls; the walls themselves were then added into to protect this new district of the keep. The village, Henbont, was growing as well, more stone structures were springing up as more and more people and families arrived; forests that were felled for the mysterious mission of Caid were then in turn replaced by farms, their fertile soils tilled over and then planted with some of the best seeds they could find.
At the keep, Caid remained focused on his quest, and yet impatient. The Gods in their games had taken Ieusan from him the year before, and now it was just Ridoreh here to counsel them on their mission; the new priest, Briag, was pleasant enough but never as knowledgeable as Ieusan sadly. That later turned out to haught Caid, as his wife died following every attempt to save her failed, and he nearly threw himself into grief before he took another young girl from the villages, and swore to work on till they were home.
The ships had been completed, for the most part, but it was his army now that needed help. Last accounts from the "Prince" of southern Wales said he had mustered some six thousand warriors to fight back the Mercian aggressors, but Caid barely had two thousand here. He had hoped the surge in numbers would benefit, but he'd have to wait a generation for the boys to become men, and then so on, before he really experienced.
It was here that he and Ridoreh were sitting with Cadoc, enjoying mugs of mead as the temperature's outside fell from the approaching fall, and discussed tactics. "My boys are getting better and better at making quality 'mail, soon spears might have a good opponent"
Cadoc joked, with Caid replying "Indeed, I've seen them. I've also come to like that knight the Duke lent us, getting our Red Tunics up on horses will help against the old home."
"Do we really need to fight our own people?"
"Sadly, it is needed, or else they won't recognize our claim. I just pray we arrive and work our quest quickly, or less the Saxons may take advantage of the chaos and over-come us forever."
"You know, there's those vile raiders south of us; Norse they call themselves. They took over Narborg last year, but their chief died to the pox from some woman and now his barely infant son rules over them. Many Bretons are still there, enslaved by the foreigners. They could boost our armies."
"But could we take them?"
"It'd be great practice to get the men some fire in their blood. It's been three years since that last party and most of the new lads weren't there."
Caid rose from his chair and towards a table at the back of the room that bore a map of Francia, and bits of Briton, drawing his hands across the map, the scars on his fingers illuminated in the night. The battles he had fought earlier in his life took their toils, and he was never eager to add to their collection on his body. "We wait till the spring, then marshal our offensive. We'll purge the heathens from the lands, and free our brothers and sisters to help us in our noble quest."
April 2, 871
Inside the Lord's Chambers, Gwened
Caid tightened the final strap on the belt that went across his torso diagonally, and then grabbed the simple leather scabbard that had been sitting on the dresser in his room, the arming sword was nothing particularly decorative, but the iron blade had served him well in previous campaigns, and it bore a number of small strips of fabric hanging from it, of various hues; remnants of fallen friends, whom he had sworn to always carry on.
As Caid readied himself, down below in the keep and outside the keep, the levies of his bannermen had arrived over the last few weeks, really ever since March had come and the spring had allowed easy troop movements. The Brython troops were much better armed and equipped then the rag-tag militia more or less that had met the initial Viking raiders; while before they had been little better armed beyond possibly a few mail shirts among those who had fought for in the prior campaigns in Mortain or in the north with the old Duke, the rest had little beyond leather pieces or their normal clothes, a farm tool as a poleaxe or just an old axe. Now, however, they were much more armed. Ridoreh in particular made sure that they had a usual set of gear, at least each man had been issued Gwened-forged haubergeon, and had been given a stout spear, the broad head almost styled in a similar fashion to the winged spears favored by the Franks, but lacked the extra points and was more in common with the broadhead of a hunting spear. Most others also carried some form of secondary weapon, small axes and some daggers were popular. Among the nobles, most who fought in battle wore a distinctive red tunic with their haubergeon, or a very few rogues who wore a sash of fabric, and they also had enough coin to be able to afford themselves a sword, few others in the infantry carried one. Calling up the levies of every tribe, clan, castle and village, Caid had managed to amass a total of just over two thousand men, most of them infantry and bowmen; his mounted numbered just a hundred and twenty three. Small boys employed as scouts had already confirmed that by the time the druids had delivered a declaration of war to the Norselings in Namberg, and they had only managed to raise a meager force of about half of what Caid and his men had; and reportedly, the force looked much less fearsome then the one from three years ago.
No less, Caid joined the host of men outside the city, striding atop his chestnut destrier that was easily six and a half hands long, bearing him on a simple tooled saddle, he, Ridoreh and Cadoc were his principle commanders for the three flanks while Teriaoc led a section of men inside the left flank which belonged to his father. The host marched at a pace not to outwear themselves, but to hurry, for they had received word the old Duke had also declared war, if just to seize the county before them.
They intruded past the Namberg borders on April 8, after a full week of march, and Caid ordered the pace increased as they traveled to meet their enemies. Scouts had detected that the Norse were attempting to lay an ambush in a sally out effort in a plains section at the front of the castle, and Caid decided it would be the best place to meet. He could align his archers inside the wooded thicket, firing down volleys as he had his his two flanks wait on the sides in the wood, while he led the center out. He and his would pin the Norse down, engaging them head on before his other two flanks would close in, encircling them and completely annihilating them.
He spread the plan to his commanders, and they enacted it as performed, they knew the tactics well for it was similar to the ambush years before. The 451 archers with them opened fire the minute Cadoc and Ridoreh had their flanks in position, hiding far enough back in the forest not to be seen but close enough to sprint out and engage as needed, the warriors having to be nearly restrained as they tried to abate their fury as they waited for the signal to go, the sounds of iron on iron and men dying filling the air as Caid and his flank surged out to engage. Suddenly, through the canopy of the tree's, five flaming arrows could be seen flung up into the sky by skilled archers, and immediately, the two other Brython commanders ordered the charge, the roars of impassioned men, the fury of their war cry's, and the guttural sound of their war horns as over a thousand Brython came crashing down on the exposed flanks of the Norse.
Caid's men first crossed iron with the Norse at a few hours before noon, and by high noon, the battle had been over. Over nine hundred and twelve Norse had been cut down, really not much more then a host of armed farmers led by a few core raiders as they could tell once the bodies were counted and collected. In turn, only around two hundred or so Brythons lost their lives, of course, there was now the siege to contend with, but it didn't last long. The Brythons had set the siege lines immediately and in three days, Duke Saloman arrived with an additional five thousand men. He consulted with Caid for two days before they demanded the surrender of the 150 man garrison; they did so immediately and the Duke was forced to let Caid raise his clan's colors, a streaming blue banner with a red wolf's head on it, over the gatehouse and the castle, and nearby city. While the Norse had by and large been killed off, imprisoned or run out of the county, the county's Breton population welcomed the 'liberators', of course, the druids met initial resistance as they began their work of converting the lost souls back to the Sidhe and Gods. Even still, the work would continue for the ultimate goal; the reconquest of their ancestral homes, the return to where more then one thing would be returned to them; the return, to Briton.
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