Summer of 1082
"Father, the army led by Patil has captured Fort Tamnu. Now Razih has lost its last line of defense," Alva explained the current situation to Adram.
"I have sent people to recruit soldiers. The villages within the territory can still muster a few hundred men. Moreover, Sultan Winged has already ordered the Emirs to lead their troops to the northeastern border. We should be able to reclaim the lost territory in about half a month."
"Lagaya won't let a newly occupied castle change hands easily. The cavalry of the Southern Empire must be hidden in the forests along the border. Patir's legion might just be a decoy."
"How is that possible? Who would use an 800-man legion as a decoy? Excluding the soldiers guarding the cities, a country's combat-ready forces are only about three to four thousand. Those people from the Southern Empire with short swords and wooden shields can't be considered true soldiers; they're just scarecrows under the Mamluk heavy cavalry.
Lagaya doesn't have the same courage as her man. The deceased Emperor Arenix is already history; this Empress probably hasn't even secured her throne yet. Once Winged arrives with his legion, Patir will collapse at the first touch." Emir Adram sat in the hall, holding a wine glass. "Don't worry, nothing will happen. Take your soldiers and patrol outside the city. Don't show any mercy when you encounter the Southern Empire's troops."
Alva turned and walked out of the hall, thinking to himself when he had ever been soft on enemies. If he hadn't been born a woman, perhaps his words would have been taken as a warning.
Alva exited the main building and headed towards the barracks.
The narrow and winding streets were bustling with people. There were noble youths dressed in silk and satin, riding proudly on horseback, disdainfully passing by the poor; and there were ragged commoners, huddled tightly against the walls, their faces filled with caution and humility.
The shops lining both sides of the street were dazzling, offering everything from jewelry to daily necessities, yet the air was filled with the stench of decay and sewage.
"Assemble the troops. How many men do we have currently?"
"85 armored soldiers and 40 newly replenished militiamen," the guard replied.
Alva stood out in the crowd, appearing particularly tall. Having grown up fighting alongside the army on horseback, this young woman often led troops deep into battle, capable of intimidating the enemy even when outnumbered.
Her black hair cascaded over her armor, the tips brushing against the sword marks on its surface.
"Prepare to assemble and leave the city. Go and retrieve all the horses from Lord Emil's stables and distribute them among these armored soldiers," she commanded.
"Wouldn't that be inappropriate? If Lord Emil blames us..."
"These horses are only valuable on the battlefield." Alva replied. The Southern Empire's southward advance had already reached the eastern shore of the Narrow Sea, and this time it wouldn't be a minor skirmish like before. If they were allowed to march south out of the forests on the eastern shore of the Narrow Sea, the entire Aserai would be exposed to the enemy's legions.
The Calradic Empire had always been unwilling to dispatch legions to the point of no return in the Nahasan Desert, preferring instead to project its influence into this border region by supporting proxies among various tribes, letting them dance in endless power struggles. Those tribes that controlled oases received imperial funding, protected passing caravans, and thus grew wealthy. Those unable to control oases were driven into the desert, living by herding sheep and raiding passing caravans until they could make a comeback.
Now, the Calradic Empire has fragmented into three nations. With the decline of the Empire, the Aserai have agreed to form a confederation under the rule of a Sultan, chosen from the wealthiest family, the Banu Hulyan. But everyone knows that the dance of power is only temporarily paused; once the time is right, it will begin again. And now, perhaps, is the beginning.
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The long, narrow strait of the Narrow Sea separates Aserai from the Empire, north to south. Aserai's northern border meets the Southern Empire, and the eastern shore of the Narrow Sea, one of Aserai's few forested areas, serves as Aserai's eastern gateway into the Southern Empire, as well as a corridor for the Southern Empire's cavalry to advance southward.
On the eastern shore of the Narrow Sea, in the forest northeast of Tamnu Fort.
Night fell, and visibility dimmed. Patches of light filtered through the branches, illuminating the forest floor.
The soldiers hid in the tall grass behind the slope. Their horses' mouths were tied with hemp ropes, their legs wrapped in burlap, and the Aserai tribal riders pulled hard on the bits, forcing their horses to lower their heads.
40 militiamen were positioned in the center of the formation, arrayed in two rows, followed by 10 Mamluk axemen, with the remaining soldiers dispersed and prone. The militiamen wielded a variety of weapons: some held short swords, others were hunched over with iron forks, and still others carried axes and hammers. A dozen or so Mamluk axemen were interspersed among the militia.
This forest is Aserai's eastern gate. To the east of the forest lies a north-south mountain range, which local farmers call Dongxia Mountain. In the early morning, before the sun was visible, people saw the hillsides bathed in golden light, like a rosy glow descending and spreading across the land, or like a mountain stretching straight into the clouds. The northernmost end of the Dongxia Mountain range is close to Aserai's border and also near the Southern Empire.
The city of Hosen Fugler is located at the eastern foot of the northern section of Dongxia Mountain, making it the closest town to the Southern Empire. The Patir Legion first attacked Tamnu Fort but did not besiege Hosen Fugler, indeed intending to cut off Aserai's northward forces to gain time for the siege of Hosen Fugler. Alva pondered the situation.
Or perhaps, Hosen Fugler had already been under siege, as no caravans from the north had been seen for a long time, nor had any correspondence passed through.
"Archers, fire!" Alva shouted.
The Aserai light archers and militia archers drew their bows to full and shot straight, arrows tearing through the air with a constant whistling sound, cutting through leaves and grass, heading directly for the Southern Empire soldiers at the bottom of the slope.
"Disperse, disperse! There are... on the hillside," before the words were finished, an Imperial infantryman was shot through the chest by an arrow.
The tips of the arrows gleamed with a cold light, falling like rain, each one tearing through the air and landing accompanied by splattering blood.
Everyone panicked and scattered in disarray. Those near the rocks quickly lay down on their sides; those near the trees leaned against the trunks, not daring to peek out; those hiding behind the weeds prayed to heaven. Soldiers who couldn't dodge fell to the ground instantly.
"Enemy attack! Prepare for battle!" Niphon shouted, pressing himself against a tree trunk, while his personal guards behind a large rock nearby drew their swords.
The horn blared. Tribal riders charged down the mountain on their warhorses, their long spears thrusting directly at the panicked people, disrupting the formation of the imperial soldiers. Aserai warriors shouted as they rushed towards the enemy, the air filled with the smell of blood and the clang of metal.
Imperial veteran infantry threw their javelins, aiming at the rustling weeds in the dim light. In their fear, they only hoped their javelins would strike the enemy. Two-handed spearmen wielded their long spears, engaging in a chaotic melee with the Aserai ambushers. The imperial warhorses had already suffered heavy losses from arrow fire.
The soldiers of both sides fought in the darkness, swords clashing, sparks flying.
Alva, clad in heavy armor, rode a grizzled warhorse, wielding a Mamluk axe as she charged into the enemy lines. Wherever her axe struck, it was unstoppable, and the Empire's soldiers fell one after another.
However, the Empire's soldiers were unwilling to leave their bodies on foreign soil and showed no weakness. They shouted, "Long live the Calradian Empire!" and wielded their weapons, engaging in fierce combat with the Aserai soldiers.
On the chaotic battlefield, soldiers from both sides were locked in a melee. The Aserai militiamen fought with utter disregard for their lives. Whenever there was a glimmer of opportunity, they would discard their worn-out weapons and quickly pick up the longswords and shields from nearby corpses, charging into the heart of the enemy lines with no other choice.
The Mamluk Axemen formed a pincer movement, cutting down the enemy forces on the periphery and a few of their own militiamen who retreated without a fight. The Imperial infantry, meanwhile, wielded longswords, blocking axe blows with their shields, and engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the Aserai soldiers. Soldiers from both sides hacked at each other in the darkness, their blood soaking the ground.
Alva's warhorse was struck in the abdomen by a spear, and she fell from her horse, but quickly rose to her feet, continuing to wield her battle axe. Her personal guards surrounded her, protecting her.
Nifun commanded his troops, shouting orders and encouraging his soldiers to charge. Both sides fought in the darkness, the battle lasting for several minutes.
The forest was strewn with corpses. The sounds of battle gradually diminished until they disappeared. In the darkness, the forest returned to its nocturnal tranquility, occasionally interspersed with wails, cries, and gasps. Yet these sounds made the forest seem even more eerily quiet.
"Everyone rest in place and care for the wounded."
(Sultan: The ruler of the Asele nation; Emir: The tribal leader within the Asele nation.)