Who's in for it? This will be my first time starting it.
Specs are:
VI (patched with 2.01)
Saxons
Normal
Well, who's got a taste for conquest? I know I do
If you decide to participate, then put your e-mail here. Hope to see some replies
Who's in for it? This will be my first time starting it.
Specs are:
VI (patched with 2.01)
Saxons
Normal
Well, who's got a taste for conquest? I know I do
If you decide to participate, then put your e-mail here. Hope to see some replies
"I'm like the Vikings -- I come here, I steal your women, your booze, your dough, and then I go back home." ~ Wiz
"Play RTW and wait till 1,000 people die and look at them from above. Then tell me it was worth the oil." - Byzantine Prince
play it on expert or hard, normal is too easy
Llew Cadeyrn/Alrowan - Chieftain of Clan Raven
Ok,
Specs are:
VI (patched with 2.01)
Saxons
Hard
We also have some goals. We have to unify England before 937 (might be too hard/might not). But I hope someone will join
"I'm like the Vikings -- I come here, I steal your women, your booze, your dough, and then I go back home." ~ Wiz
"Play RTW and wait till 1,000 people die and look at them from above. Then tell me it was worth the oil." - Byzantine Prince
i'll play
edit: peterz@mags.net
oh c'mon, if you are playing on hard, then why not play on expert? It is the only way to give AI some chance of survival.
Besides, wont Saxons be too easy because of the fact that they have huscarles?
PS why 937? as one emperor said....My history is hazy Cassius....
"To fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting" -Sun Tzu, The Art of War
"Si vis pacem, para bellum" - Vegetius
www.slavab.com
www.agarwaen.com
Im up for it, Ive never played above normal but I reckon i can handle it.
tcollin2@lineone.net
Yeah make it Expert.
And the Saxons are still too easy btw (Huscarles & rich starting lands)
"I request permanent reassignment to the Gallic frontier. Nay, I demand reassignment. Perhaps it is improper to say so, but I refuse to fight against the Greeks or Macedonians any more. Give my command to another, for I cannot, I will not, lead an army into battle against a civilized nation so long as the Gauls survive. I am not the young man I once was, but I swear before Jupiter Optimus Maximus that I shall see a world without Gauls before I take my final breath."
Senator Augustus Verginius
Whats going on here? Are we going to get started?
I would be interested.
Will send you a PM with my e-mail address.
Nigel
ill play this one
Regards
GPMB
Bigcatdaddyg@aol.com
My Amtgard team has a Drinking problem- The Drunkerds
TheSilverKnight seems to have moved on to other things, but from the responses here there is enough demand to justify getting this off the ground. Demon of Light asked me to get this campaign started.
Game rules
Let's play:
Saxons
VI (2.01 patch)
Expert
With the green generals flag
There are no glorious achievements in the VI campaign, but personally I would find rushing the AI to victory to be a little dull (especially given that the Saxons are one of the most powerful factions).
I would suggest players be free to role-play the game as they see fit, given their vices and virtues and the ultimate aim of winning the game.
Players should not indulge in mindlessly destructive behaviour that messes up the games of their successors (as the Emperor showed in the French PBM, crack-brained kings can be locked up in their rooms by their advisors).
Addition: all players should type the cheat .unfreeze. after their death, to make sure their heir will have a son.
Administration
We'll operate through uploading and downloading games as in the French GA PBM.
Players will take up reigns through a list system (I know I'm jumping the queue, blame Demon of Light).
I'll keep the game moving through sending wake-up calls to the next in-line.
Following Kukrikhan's rules, players will be expected to acknowledge they have taken up their reign within 48 hours and post updates on their progress every two days. We can be flexible to fit in with real life commitments, but if kings become unresponsive we will just have to skip to the next on the list.
By joining in the list, players are agreeing to submit writeups, ideally with screenshots. These should be posted before the next king is deceased (or at the very list a holder post made into which they can be inserted at a later date). Having decent write-ups is what makes these PBM games more than a chain-letter with savegame attachments.
The current list of future Kings of the Saxons
Simon Appleton (simon.appleton@nottingham.ac.uk) King Behrtric, Scourge of the Welsh 793-827
Major^3 (peterz@mags.net) King Egbert I, 828-? current king
TC27 (tcollin2@lineone.net)
Nigel
GreasePaintMonkeyBrains (Bigcatdaddyg@aol.com)
The Emperor
Any other folk feel free to sign up by posting here and letting me know your EM address. I'll send a wakeup call to Major^3 and aim to upload the first savegame sometime during the weekend.
The reign of Behrtric, King of the Saxons
793 AD, West Seaxe
Rain lashed the thatched roof of the hut, as the new King paced impatiently within like a caged animal. Only twenty-nine years of age, Behrtric was a young man in a hurry. He turned angrily on his aide:
“Slaughtered them all? Are you sure?”
“Yes, my Lord, not one of the monks escaped the depravity of the pagans. Only a few herders in the hills survived to give an account.”
“And what does King Offa say about this outrage?”
“He says he can only protect those who pay tribute to the true King of the Britons.”
“Curse him What does Mercia, the richest of lands, need of tribute? Well …in time these Isles will come to see who is their true King. But for now, let us humour him. Offer him my hand in alliance against these barbarians and send word to the provinces to build watchtowers immediately, then await further instruction. We have idled too long and there is much work to be done.”
The aide gathered his woollen cloak around him and hurried out into the heavy downpour.
803 AD, West Seaxe
Princess Mary watched the downcast Northumbrian courtier leave the fort. Her brother-in-law had arrogantly rejected the man’s earnest pleas and now the emissary faced the thankless trek back north to lands ravaged by the raids of the Norsemen. Why Behrtric had rejected the offer of alliance, Mary could not understand. Was not his sworn aim to repel the pagans from the British Isles? Mary’s own people, the Welsh, had suffered a similar rebuff five years earlier and it was only the offer of her hand in marriage to Prince Egbert that had made Behrtric repent.
Even now, Mary still felt some unease about the intentions of the King to her homeland. A year before, Behrtric had struck at the rebellious house of Suth Seaxe. The small band of tough warriors who held sway there had thought their mail and proficiency with the two-handed axe would protect them. But with brutally efficient execution, Behrtric had ordered his men to drench the warrior hold in a heavy shower of arrows before personally leading his own bodyguard to ride into the compound and cut down the few survivors. Where Behrtric’s ruthless ambition would lead him, Mary did not care to ponder.
“A penny for your thoughts?”
Mary turned to see Prince Egbert had entered the room. He was smiling solicitously, observing the troubled expression on his wife’s dark features.
“Nothing, my love.” Mary said demurely, forcing a smile.
Behrtric prepares to ride down the rebellious Housecarles of Suth Seaxe.
822 AD, Pouis
The young fletcher laughed as he spat into mud. Never before had such a formidable war host been gathered to the Saxon cause. They had marched hard through Guent and Defet, but the failure of the Welsh to stand and meet them in battle had raised the army’s morale. Now that they had reached Pouis and King Conan of Wales had finally elected to hold his ground, not even the rain or the news that they were seriously outnumbered could dampen the men’s spirits.
“Hah See the fools, lined up at the bottom of the valley What are they doing, giving us the high ground?” the fletcher nudged his nearest compatriot, a dour fellow who used to be a forester and even now gave more attention his bow than to conversation or jest. “Can’t compare to old Behrtric, can they now? He’s a wily one, the King – waiting for the rains to fall before making his move. Those Welsh – they don’t like to fight like men, just shoot and hide like bandits. Well, this rain will dampen their archery.”
The Welsh army awaits to receive the approach of the Saxons in Pouis.
The forester took out the string from its greased pigskin wrapping and started to attach it to his bow. The fletcher smiled, admiringly: “Well, let’s hope they haven’t all followed your lead and kept their bowstrings dry”
The taciturn forester shook his head, despairingly. There came a shout from a sergeant and the archers were ordered to ascend the hill overlooking the Welsh position. Soon after a rider came by, shouting: “Hurry up lads They’re making for the hill too”
Arrows started to fall around the ground as the fletcher marched up the hill. He tried to keep his eyes on the slope in front of him, not wishing to look up and see the terrible shafts falling from the sky. Men started to call out in pain and collapse as the Welsh arrows began to find their mark. But soon the Saxon archers had reached the top of the hill and could halt, making a reply to their Welsh tormenters.
The fletcher paused to look around – he had a panoramic view of the battlefield. On his left, a company of fyrd were charging forward, trying to drive away the swarms of Welsh archers. To his horror, the young fletcher saw a band of Welsh armoured horsemen sweeping towards the flank of the advancing Saxon fyrd. Had he misjudged the command skills of his King? Then he saw a company of armoured Saxon spearmen racing on, aimed straight at the flank of the Welsh horse.
On the Saxon left, Welsh nobles flank the fyrd but are soon to be flanked themselves.
Reassured, the fletcher turned back and could see another score of Welsh armoured horsemen moving this time to the right of the Saxon line. The Welsh King was not such a fool, the fletcher thought and he nudged the forester to point out the threat. The forester scowled at the youngster for disturbing his aim and tossed his head to the rear of the Saxon line, where Prince Aethelstan was leading his bodyguard up to counter the new Welsh threat. I’m alright, I’m going to be alright, the fletcher reassured himself and concentrated on his task of engaging the Welsh to his centre.
On the Saxon right, Prince Aethelstan prepares to engage another retinue of Welsh nobles.
“See those half-naked boyos with swords?” He laughed, as the Welsh infantry started to approach the Saxon line. “Our lads will make short work of them” A unit of armoured Saxon spearmen stormed into combat with the Celtic warriors. But much to the young fletcher’s alarm, the elan of the Celts was more than a match for the mail of the Saxons and spearmen started to drop to the ground with sickening frequency. As the armoured spearmen wavered and then fled, the battle looked to be in the balance. At this crucial moment, Saxon horse, which had held back until the Welsh foot were committed, charged into the rear of the Welsh line from both flanks, scattering their massed archers. Simultaneously, the two companies of Housecarles, the reserve of the Saxon army, launched into the frontal melee, bolstering the fyrd who were faltering under the Welsh onslaught.
With the Welsh committed, Saxon horse make their way behind the rear of the enemy line
The fletcher shouted encouragement, then noticed with alarm a small body of armoured horse carrying a large green and white flag emblazoned with a red dragon. A gap had opened up in the centre of the Saxon line directly in front of him and the Welsh King’s retinue were spurring their horses, heading straight for the fletcher and other Saxon archers on the hill. The fletcher turned to run, but then saw, racing forward from the rear, King Behrtric and his escort, heading straight for King Conan. Lances forward, the two groups of horsemen met head on.
In the centre of the battle, King Behrtric counter-charges King Conan.
After the shock of the charge, the survivors of both sides reigned in their horses and engaged in personal combat. The young fletcher watched the men fight and fall, until at last there were only a few remaining from both sides.
The two Kings duel amongst the fallen.
The battle swung decisively in favour of the Saxons and soon stripped of his escort, King Conan let discretion get the better of valour. Turning his horse, the defeated Welsh king set off at great speed for the rear.
King Conan flees, but is destined to cross swords with Behrtric one more time.
The fletcher cheered enthusiastically, as the Saxon horse pursued the defeated Welsh but then noticed the depleted Saxon foot all heading for his position. King Behrtric himself stood behind the fletcher and the young archer followed his gaze to see a second wave of Welsh fighters approach en masse. The fletcher looked at the exhausted Saxons gathered on the hill and turned to the forester in alarm. The taciturn comrade put a hand on his shoulder “Steady, boy. The worst is over. These fellows won’t stand. … Now, give me some of your arrows.” With mounting embarassment, the fletcher realised he still had a full quiver of arrows, while the forester’s quiver was empty.
The ragged Saxon line reforms to face the second wave of the Welsh army.
825 AD, Guined
You’ve got to be joking Thought the fletcher as he craned his neck to look up the mountain on which the Welsh army had deployed. Harried after his defeat at Pouis, King Conan had elected to make a second stand and this time could not be accused of surrendering the high ground.
The Welsh army at bay, deploys on the mountains of Guined to await the Saxons.
A rider galloped along the Saxon lines: “To the woods To the woods Climb up through the woods”
And so reluctantly the fletcher joined in the ascent of the mountain, a trek made no easier by the thorns and undergrowth of the woods. At least the trees offered some cover from the Welsh arrows raining down the mountainside.
After what seemed like an age, the Saxon fyrd emerged from the top of the wood, near the top of the mountain. The Welsh King and Princes spurred their horses, and with their armoured retinues crashed down into the dispersed Saxons coming out of the trees. But just at that moment, Behrtric’s own bodyguard emerged from over a mountain ridge and charged down into the flank of the Welsh horse. I don’t believe it Thought the fletcher, even here Behrtric has stolen the high ground from the Welsh
Behrtric keeps his rendezvous with King Conan.
As the Saxon horse tore into the Welsh right flank, a band of horsemen that Behrtric had kept deployed on the valley to his left, started to ascend the slopes and threaten the Welsh left in a pincer movement.
The trap is closed: Saxon horse move in to take the second Welsh flank.
And now the snow covered mountain which had seemed so daunting to the fletcher, became instead a death trap to the Welsh. Funnelled down narrow paths on the hills, the fleeing columns of Welsh were butchered by pursuing Saxon horse.
Columns of fleeing Welsh infantry are remorsely pursued by the Saxon horse
This time, there would be no escape for Conan and soon his line would disappear from the pages of history.
828 AD, West Seaxe
Curse him, Mary thought as she tended the wounded fletcher, curse the old devil to hell. Outside the besieged fort of West Seaxe, the sound of thousands of Mercian warriors on the move echoed across the valley. With his war of aggression against the Welsh, Behrtric had not only brutalised her people, he had also led his own into mortal peril. Mary would have been tempted to see some element of justice in the intervention of Mercia. But any such thoughts were inconceivable given the imminent threat to her own life and the anguished form of the young man bleeding beside her.
“We tried to stop them…” the young fletcher whispered, looking at the middle-aged Princess tending him, “Lord Wolfbeard fought like a lion but there were too many…”
The Saxon defences thinned by the battles in North Wales, Lord Wolfbeard prepares to defend the key homeland province of West Seaxe against a surprise invasion by a massive army of the previously neutral Mercians.
It was true, what could Wolfbeard have done with seven hundred men against five thousand? He had done his duty, aligning his force on the top of a hill and baring the road to the fort in West Seaxe. His horsemen had tried repeatedly to run down the massed ranks of the Mercian archers but there were too many and soon the horse had been caught by a mass of armoured spearmen. Wolfbeard had led the charge of the Saxon infantry down the hill into the Mercians, killing all but one of the Mercian King’s bodyguard but also losing all of his own retinue of Housecarles in the process. When the few Saxon archers had exhausted their arrows, they had put down their bows, drawn their handweapons and charged down the hill to join in the slaughter. But it had been to no avail, even Wolfbeard had lost heart and fled the battle. His army had fought almost to the last man and left over 800 Mercians dead or dying on the field. In the circumstances, it was fitting that no one thought to impune the valour of Wolfbeard. Now he commanded a mere 120 survivors of the battle in the defence of the fort in West Seaxe, besieged by thousands of Mercians.
“Too many…” rasped the fletcher, lapsing into delirium.
If there were too many of them then, what chance have our few survivors now? Mary wondered in despair. She wiped the fevered brow of the fletcher and offered a silent prayer for him, for herself, for all the frightened Saxons huddled inside the timber walls of the fort.
Then a call rang out and everywhere people picked themselves up, rushing to the walls. A wave of excitement and relief spread out among the besieged, as the cry went out: “They are leaving”. Incredibly, the massed ranks of thousands of Mercian warriors were gathering and marching north, away from the fort.
A few hours later, the first riders from the Saxon relief forces arrived at the fort. Prince Egbert bounded off his horse, more like a youth than a man of 49 years. He raced to Mary, panicked at the sight of the fletcher’s blood soaking her dress:
“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he noticed the still form lying bloodied at her feet and cursed his fallen nature for feeling relief at the sight.
“Mary, the war in Wales is over. Our armies seized their last hold-out, in Clwyd, and King Iago is dead, leaving no successors. Mary, there is sweet news – in retaliation for their aggression, our armies have seized Wrocen Saetan and Hwicce unopposed from the Mercians. And even here, in the precious heart of our kingdom, the invaders have fled before us like cowards.”
Mary embraced her husband, tears of mournful sadness and happy relief mingling, stinging her flesh.
“And, Mary, he is dead. Behrtric died soon after his victory in Clwyd.”
Mary hugged her husband, the new King, more closely and, with her head nestling against his shoulder, shielded from his eyes, gave a quiet, bitter smile.
The new King Egbert I who, under his wife’s guidance, will forge a happy union with conquered Wales
Put me up for this
By the way Great Write up (As Always)
"Believe those who are seeking the truth; doubt those who find it."
Great to have you onboard, Emperor
The savegame has been uploaded at the link discussed here:
http://www.totalwar.org/cgi-bin....t=13732
Its called The Saxons 828.zip. Major^3 has been e-mailed the game and a wake-up call sent to TC27.
Well, that was short. King EgBert died in 829, one year after he was crowned king. The game has been emailed to Appleton
AD 828
The stars shone exceptionally bright over the residence of the Saxon King. Egbert lie fully awake, next to his peaceful wife Mary. Thoughts of the future plagued his mind and kept him from rest, full of imaginary expectations. He knew the war ravaged by his father had wounded his people as well, but the fire of a warrior's burned within him, and the Mercians had shown interest in a challenge, pricking him softly like a rose, on his borders. There was no obvious beauty in dirty Mericans, who had bribed numerous commanders of His army within the past few days. He was more then willing to put up a fight, but Maria kept telling him how much another war would hurt the Saxon people. He wished not to hurt his people any more then Maria, but where was the point of too much?
He was bothered by the fact that he took her words so dear to his heart. He loved her, and she no doubt loved him as well, a thing so rare in royal circles, but *he* was the King, and the choice ultimately as well. His father, and him as well, had taken part in the battle against her people. She knew how horrible war was from both side. Perhaps, just perhaps, she has the water that would quench my thirst for blood?, thought Egbert.
Nevertheless, he mused to himself as he turned himself over, a final move to find comfort within the embrace of his sheets, I will not abandon my father's ambitious projects of war, and perhaps the war with the Mercians can be quick and victorious.
AD 829
The day was bright, and the Mercians were on the doorstop. They had amassed a huge army, numbering over 2000, and invaded the seat of King Egbert. There were reports of more treacherous generals.
m'Lord, i think we are going to have a loyalty problem, said Prince Edmund. The King only nodded.
Edmund, i want you to lead the battle tomorrow.
m'Lord?
Egbert just looked at him with a sympathetic look.
I don't want their leader to fall...
And with that, Egbert retired to his quarters, leaving the young Prince confused.
The beautiful weather extended into the next day. The saxon soldiers were confused by the fact that Prince Edmund took the lead. It was unusual for the King to give up his command and led the army up to the hill ahead. As they were about to go across the crest of the hill, a detachment of Mercian Cavalry charged at them. With little delay the trained spearmen lined up and braced themselves and received the full impact of the charge. As arrows rained down on them, the spearmen fought bravely and suffered minimal casualties and were able to rout the cavalry. However, the false sense of security soon abandoned them as they reached the top of the hill. The Mercians were sprawled all over the bottom of the hill, which was not very big. The most daunting feature, the only thing that made King Egbert wince, was the presence of Saxon Huscarles fighting for the Mercians.
Prince Edmund did not hesitate to take the offensive, ordering the cavalry to flank the main Mercian force from the left and right and sending the 4 units of huscarles into the center to break them down and to draw out the enemy general, a Prince of the Mercians. Once the cavalry bodyguard of the Prince was uncovered, he was charged with the 2 units of armoured spearmen. Edmund had the archers focuz their fire on the general, knowing if he went down, the rest of the Mercian army would loose its coherency.
However, there was trouble on the left flank, where a unit of enemy saxon huscarles were taking down the cavalry. Nevertheless, the true saxon huscarles did what they do best and were able to route most of the mercian army, and when the archers' quivvers were empty, they took up their shortswords and charged the enemy. This combined effort took down the king and allowed them to focus on the valourous Mercian huscarles.
After routing the main Mercian army, Edmund reoranized the army in a line of battle because as they were taking down the enemy Prince and his regiment, more troops were comming over the horizon.
Without having time to search for his King, Edmund, rallied the army and charged ahead into the masses of peasant levies.
Mary watched the battle with her entourage from the top of a nearby hill. She saw the massess of peasants charging into the trainded huscarles and spearmen of the Saxons. The imaged reminded her of the slaughter of the Welsh, of the Saxons in previous wars. Her senses entered reality as she saw the third, or was it fourth? wave of peasants charging into the worn down and battered Saxons.
Oh my, what slaughter...
Prince Edmund has sweat dripping from his brow. He had removed most of his armour to lighten the burden. The few remaining men he had done did the same, but it mattered little. These were merely farmers and peons being sent at him with pitchforks, shovels, spears...anything they could find, forced into combat by their King. It wouldn't have taken a long time except for the fact that there were so many of them.
After they had routed, Prince Edmund finally had time to search for his beloved King, he found him dead underneath a few bodies of huscarles. These were the traitors. Prince Edmund knelt down next to his fallen kin. The former king lay peacefully among the dead of those who had once served him. An homage to the turbulent and untrusting world around themselves. All he had wanted to do, was to bring dignity and peace to the Isle.
He shed no tears, because his warrior's heart was strong. But he knew it wouldn't be as easy for others. He looked up and saw Mary's carriage comming down the hill to greet him...
It would be known later that 2,369 Mercians had lost their lives in that battle, 505 were captured and later ransomed, and 749 brave Saxon souls were lost. A tremendous victory in deed. But this news would never dry the tears of the grieving Mary nor ease the new King Edmund, as they both faced the future.
Wow - a gripping read, Major^3. You carried on the story very smoothly. Sounds like the happy ever after ending I had envisaged for Mary and Egbert was illusory.
I am sorry Egbert's reign was so short, but he died valiantly. Major^3, how would you like your king to be known? (As in Alexander the Great etc...)
Without assassins, I'm not sure how we can cope with the Mercians bribing our troops. Is it true that those of royal blood can't be bought? But beyond that, maybe we just have to take their lands, so they run out of money. Anyway, with the war raging with Mercia, we are at a critical point in this game.
I have had no response from TC27 to the wake-up call and since we've also been waiting for his write-up on the French GA PBM, I am postponing his reign in the interests of maintaining momentum. Nigel was next in line and E-mailed me last night, so I will send him the savegame and put TC27 after the Emperor. A wake-up call will be sent to GreasePaintMonkeyBrains.
The list of Kings of the Saxons:
Simon Appleton (simon.appleton@nottingham.ac.uk) King Behrtric, Scourge of the Welsh, 793-827
Major^3 (peterz@mags.net) King Egbert I, The Valiant, 828-829
Nigel
GreasePaintMonkeyBrains (Bigcatdaddyg@aol.com)
The Emperor
TC27 (tcollin2@lineone.net)
there would have been pictures but i forgot what button to push and in my random pressing of function keys didnt get any lol.
king Egbert the Valiant works for me. :)
Prince Edmund succeeds to the Throne
829
The leather cover was old and worn. It was his favorite book. Prince Edmund had read it many times over and over again. It told the recent History of his people, beginning at the time when they first came to this island in AD 449. They had followed a call for help. The British were left to struggle after the Romans had withdrawn their legions and the Scots, Picts and Irish were pressing over the borders, threatening to destroy what the Romans had build. In their despair, the British dukes had sent messengers across the Chanal asking for help and making promises. Two brothers from Jutland, chieftains Hengest and Horsa, answered their call and come at the head of a mighty Saxon army.
When their task was done and the land secure, the British refused to fulfill their part of the bargain. But Hengest and Horsa decided to take what was worth more than gold to them. They had seen the rich and fertile land of Southern Brittania and remembered only too well the barren marshes of their homeland. So messengers went back again to invite more Saxon tribes to come and this time they would not only bring their armies, but theri families, too.
They settled in the South and the people there learned to accept them. Well, at swordpoint first, but gradually the two peoples blended into each other. The White Horse on the red Saxon shild was replaced by the Golden Pendragon and things were helped further when, between AD 500 and 600, the Saxons converted to Christianity. Fighting and rivalry with the British in the North had never really stopped, though. For about 200 years now two mighty kingdoms, Mercia and Northumbria, had established themselves, suspiciously eyeing or at times violently opposing the Saxon settlements in the South. During the early years of his grandfather's reign the situation had been reasonably peaceful, allowing his grandfather to unify the settlements and lay the foundation of a Saxon kingdom.
Prince Edmund remembered his grandfather as a strong man, full of energy and lust for adventure. He had taken care that his grandchildren recieved a good military educatin and Edmund and his brother Aethelstan now were able fighters and commanders. He was not an uncontroversial figure though and he knew that his mother hated him for startng a war which had killed her father, King Conan of Wales, and her husband. It had also given the Mercians a wellcome opportunity to break the peace and renew the war against his people The shock of loosing his father in the first battle he commanded still sat deep. Prince Edmund was almost thankful for the imminent danger of the Mercian threat, which now forced him to focus his mind on other things. The situation looked grim indeed.
A rebellious group, loyal to the Mercians had taken Defet in the South of Wales. Peasants at best, but they still had to be dealt with. His brother had struck a counter move and captured Wrocen Saetan, but was still tied up in the siege of the castle. In the far South, the Mercians had taken Cantware. A garisson was still holding our in the castle and waited to be relieved. Hovever, worst of all was the political situation. The Mercians were allied with the Scottland, Northumbria and Ireland. The Saxons were fighting on thier own.
A knock at the door pulled him out of his thoughts.
Highness, are you ready. The noblemen are all gathered for your coronation ceremony.
832, West Saexe
I am so excited, Mum, I am getting married this year
Princess Hygeburh found it impossible to keep still since she had heared the news.
But scary it is, too. I hardly know Lord Wigferth. What kind of man is he ? I know everyone at court talks of him, being the first knight of the Realm, the best general in my brother's army. But will I really be able to love him ? Will I be happy with him ? And should I not really have married a king ? After all, I am the eldest of my sisters. When you married father, he was a royal prince, too, and became king and .... ohhh poor father.
The King's Mother found it hard to calm the outbursts of her daughter. And for her too, the mention of Egbert, three years after his death, still brought a pain to her heart. Gently she tried to comfort the confused young lady. Well, here, darling, dont cry. Your brother shure knows what is best for you. Why, he himself has married a Saxon noblewoman just one year after he became king. Always remember, to find a man's nobility you must search in his heart, not in his family tree. But search you must, my dear child. A man, especially a great warrior like Lord Wigferth can not open his heart easily. And much will depend on you, to find your way to it, to care for it and to make sure it remains good and true.
I will, Mother., Hygeburh wiped the tears off her face, If this good man only has a heart, I will be sure to find it. And I will look after it and care for it and build our happiness.
The good girl. Mary watched her as she left the room, her sorrow gone and her mind full of thoughts of the future. She sighed and hoped it would all go well. What the girl did not know was, that there were other motives than the mere love for his sister, that had made King Edmund arrange the marriage. Lord Wigferth was indeed the best tactician of the Saxon realm. In fact, he was the only man who could match Lord Eadwulf, the brilliant general of the Mercian army in the South. When Cantwaraburgh was besieged in the year of his coronation, and it became clear that the Saxon defenders had enough supplies to make a stand, Eadwulf had not hesitated to take the fortified village by storm. And he had done so with surprisingly few losses on the Mercian side. Of the defending Fyrdmen, none had returned home.
Eadwulf and Wigferth were now facing each other across the border of South Saexe. Edmund belived it was only Wigferth's reputation which had prevented Eadwulf from striking further into his Realm. Well, Wigferth was a man who certainly knew how to handle an army. He also was a man who certainly knew how to handle his career. And he certainly knew of what value he was to the Realm. One of the first deeds of Edmund as king had been to travel the land and award lands and titles to deserving and competent noblemen. Wigferth had not been forgotten and had been made Prince of Pouis. But with a man like him you have to make sure that what is best for the Realm is also best for his personal career. And what better way to do this than linking his blood to the royal family. Well, Mary thought, at least he is not only a brilliant commander but also an educated gentleman and appears well mannered and kind, albeit not overly pious. We can only hope that time will not reveal any hidden vices.
While these things troubled her mind in the South, there were better news from the North of the realm. Her second son, Aethelstan, had successfully concluded the siege of Lyccifleth in Wrocen Saetan, the rebellion in Defet had been crushed and Lord Eagils had taken Hwicce without a fight. Edmund was now thinking that maybe the North was the weak spot of the Mercian kingdom. If Wigferth and Eadwulf could be kept at a standoff in the South for long enough, perhaps Aethelstan would have a chance to move through the North with little opposition and end the Mercian threat before poor Hygeburh had to share her own fate: to loose her husband to this wretched Saxon/Mercian war.
Excellent work, Nigel Looks like a tough fight, but you are holding your own. Shame about Cantware, though My impression was that we had a slight tech advantage over the Mercians so you might find their large stacks put up suprisingly little resistance if you are aggressive. Good luck going for the North
Just putting in a note to let everyone know that I am still on it. Won't get much time to write this weekend, though.
But what I can tell is that Edmund's plans for the North were foiled by a viking invasion there. Well, at least Hygeburh and Wigferth seem to be getting on well with each other.
833
What started out as a merry party turned sour and ended in quite an affront.
The feast was held to celebrate Prince Harold's coming of age. The second brother of King Edmund (Mary and Egbert had had 10 children in the happy years before the Welsh war), had turned 16 this year. As the mead passed around and a lot of tall stories were told, someone brought up the rumor again of the young man's alleged affair with another nobleman's wife. Nothing was proven of course and the whole affair was highly embarrassing - mainly for the wife's husband - but Aethelstan had thought it fit to rebuke young Harold for it. At this the king had responded defending his little brother. ´Well, he had called across the table slamming down his mead-filled tankard, at least our young lad here seems to have no problem bedding a woman. Who knows, the future of our dynasty may yet depend on him
Aethelstan had turned white at the remark. Intended to be perhaps no more than a rude joke, it had still clearly been aimed at the fact that he, at the age of 32 was still unmarried. It also had to be seen by the noblemen as a sign, that Edmund now preferred the younger brother, when considering the order of succession. Without further word he rose and left the room.
After an awkward silence, the king had ordered more mead and the feast had continued It'll be all right, think nothing of it, my friends. I'll talk to him in the morning. But Edmund did not find it easy to get back into festive mood. He felt sorry and had not intended to hurt. But being the king, a public apology was quite out of the question. When the guests finally retired, he still found little sleep and in the morning he rose well before the servants. In the castle yard he found his brother saddling his horse. You are heading back North, then?. Edmund held the reins as Aethelstan swung into the saddle. He still did not feel like apologising. Why did Aethelstan have to be so sensitive and stubborn. But he did not let go of the reins. Not with this standing between them.
Aethelstan bent down in the saddle. Edmund, our little brother may be more of a courtier than I am. But with the vikings pillaging our lands in the North, the men will soon realize on whom the future of the kingdom really depends. Gently he took the reins from the kings hands and spurred his horse. Edmund looked after him with a heavy heart. It was true, he had given his brother no other chance than to go back to the border armies and redeem himself fighting the vikings. He hoped he could still trust his brother's loyalty. But even more than that he hoped Aethelstan would not do anything stupid. By God, sometimes it really was not easy being king.
837
*** Slamm ***
The iron fist hit on the table and made ink-jars and pencils jump.
What is this ? The budget for the Christmas party ?
King Edmund was not usually given to outbursts of temper, but now his councillor recieved the full might of his rage.
No Sire, this is the forecast for next year's tax revenues.
See, you have enlarged your army to support your brother's fight against the vikings, while at the same time the income from the Welsh provinces....
Yes, I know, I know.
The viking raids had hurt the Saxons painfully. In Defel, the goldmine had been plundered first and then torn down. In other provinces farms and churches had been put to the torch, too. Aethelstan had faught a brave but frustrating fight. The vikings dared not stand up to him, but wherever his army appeared on the horizon, they gathered their plunder and put to sea. He had reclaimed all the territories in Wales, but had not caught any of their chieftains. A desperate attempt to cut them off at sea had cost Edmund 2/3 of his fleet. His Saxons were simply no match for the sailing skills of the viking captains.
Now the loss of revenues was taking serious proportions.
With this money we can't even afford to raise a single unit of huscarls next year.
This will never do. The Mercians are improving the quality of their armies while we are getting starved.
I have made my decision. Send messengers South and give Wigferth permission to cross the border whenever he sees fit.
And for Gods sake, get someone to rid me of this viking curse $%&
Sounds tough - good luck, Nigel
839
The rider was stopped by the guards, but when he showed his ring with the elaborate engraving, which was the secret sign of recognition, he was immediately admitted to the the king's hall. Edmund was surprised to see his master-spy. What news do you bring to risk the dangers of traveling across the border back from Mercia ?
Two kinds of news, Sire, one good, one bad.
The good one first. Lord Wigferth has re-taken Cantware with ease. Eadwulf's army had moved out just a few days before he decided to attack and the province fell to him without much resistance. The bad news is that the Mercian king himself is on the way to invade West Saexe at the head of an army, which outnumbers ours by far. They should reach us within a week.
Excited talk started among the king's councilors. What shall we do ? Retreat and abandon the province ? Prepare to defend the castle ? How fast can we bring reinforcements ? Silence, gentlemen Let this man tell us more. Do you know their strength ? Do you know what men we are facing ?
Well, Sire, the mud-covered rider said, I have been watching their movements from the distance. They seem be mainly infantry, apart from the kings own bodyguard. And judging by the speed at which they move, they cannot have many men in heavy armor. Some bows, some spears I am sure, but more I could not make out.
It fitted well into the picture. Over the past years, the spies had sent various reports of the Mercians drafting peasants from the fields and pressing them to serve in the army. In Northumbria, his informants had told of merchants who boasted about good deals they had made selling weapons in Mercia at extremely high prices. A sure sign, that the production of arms in Mercia was not up to scratch. King Edmund rose. With the decision he had reached, there was no time to loose.
Call out our army immediately. Never mind the vikings, now. We are moving to confront the Mercian king in the field. Bring every able fighter who can join us. Send word to every freeman who owns as much as a spear and a shield, but leave our peasants to tend the lands. This time we shall teach them that valor counts more than numbers.
Excellent stuff Nigel
I hope the war goes well... I can't wait until my turn as King Comes, great stuff
"Believe those who are seeking the truth; doubt those who find it."
839 near the Mercian border
When the scouts had spotted the Mercian army, King Edmund had chosen his position. He carefully selected one of several hilltops, not high, but still enough to give him a decicive advantage. The Mercians would, of course, easily occupy one ot the other hills nearby, but if he judged King AEthelbert of Mercia right, he would not have the patience to endure a long standoff. Besides, time would work in the Saxon's favour as the Mercian invaders would have to force a decision before nightfall.
When the enemies appeared on the horizon, the Saxons moved in position. The main part of King Edmund's army were Fyrdmen. They were supported by archers and some medium cavalery. A core of elite troops was formed by 2 units armoured spearmen and 4 units huscarles. He himself was well protected by a bodyguard of 20 of his best knights. While his core troops were deployed from the start, some archers, horsemen and fyrdmen had been kept for reserve. When the Mercians appeared, they sure enough moved to attack right away.
The Saxon archers opened fire on the advancing enemies as soon as they were in range. Long and slow was their advance up the hill and many of them died in the hail of the Saxon arrows. But steadily they moved and eventually they neared the crest. Edmund ordered the archers back behind the line and soon a fierce hand to hand combat started. Edmund had placed the huscarles and the riders at the flanks to fall into the sides of the attackers while the fyrd and spearmen held the centre. But the Mercians were so many in numbers that the huscarles could not get around them and merely managed to join the line of the main army, trying desperately to hold the hill. Soon a cleft in the centre opened and the fighting armies split in two goups on the left and right of the hilltop.
There, through this gap between the men, King Edmund spotted the banner of the Mercian king. Without hesitation he spurred his horse and charged at him.His own bodyguard rushing after him, they smashed into the side of the Mercian knights. But the Mercian king stood his ground and soon the swords came out and the fighting continued at short range.
All the while a group of Mercian fyrdmen had reached the top of the hill through a little forest on the right and managed to drive off the Saxon horsemen. They were now troubeling a depleted unit of the armoured spear and would have defeated them, had not a group of Saxon fyrdmen freed themselves from the fight in the centre and come to their rescue.
Meanwhile, as the battle raged on, King Edmund had finally managed to fight his way through to the Mercian king and now the two Monarchs were exchanging blow upon blow. Eventually, bleeding from too many wounds, King AEthelbert I of Mercia sank from the saddle. And there, clutching the earth of the land which he had so desired to posess and for which he had sent so many other men to their deaths, he himself finally died. The Blue Griffin sank to the gound and the Red Pendragon, still shaking from the effort, rose high in the air.
As the call of their king's death went through the Mercian army, panick spread through their ranks and they turned their backs and ran. The Saxon fighters followed them hot in pursuit.
All the way down to the valley the cavalery charged, where the Mercian archers had taken position and harrassed the Saxon infantery on the hilltop.
As they were driven off, King Edmund recalled his troops. We must not let ourselves get drawn to attack. This was only the first wave and the Mercian reserves are plentyful. If they catch us off guard, they can still steal the victory from our hands. And so he set about to organize his army after the onslaught and regroup befor the next attack.
The next attack surely came. And the next, and the next....
Wave after wave the Mercian troops came to avenge their king.
The Saxon soldiers, however, stood their ground. When the archers had spent their arrows, they drew their short swords and were quite disappointed when Edmund ordered them back. I know your bravery. But I need you to hold the bow steady and aim true for many years still after this battle. No use to get your hands broken and fingers cut off in a melee, now. Go back and get the reserves going. ..... and tell them to hurry.
In spite of the Mercian king's death, the day saw one more moment of anxiety. In one of the attack waves, a group of enemy fyrdmen had managed to outmanouver the Saxons and broke over the hilltop. Chasing away a band of archers, they soon found themselves on the other side, behind the main Saxon army. Seeing this threat in his back, King Edmund desperately eyed his fighting troops to pull someone back and protect their rear. But not a chance. Everyone of the defenders was heavily engagesd with the enemy and none could be spared. Fortunately the archers, who had been chased off, pulled themselves together and, understanding the situation, started firing at the fyrdmen again. The ruse worked and the Mercians decided to continue chasing the archers, rather than falling into the back of the fighting Saxons. Advancing further into Saxon territory, they were eventually intercept by a unit of fresh Saxon cavalery, which had just arrived from the reserves camp. They still faught bravely for a long while, but tired and exhausted as they were, they had to give ground eventually and were run back to the Mercian side.
Finally, the Mercian attacks grew less and less determined. Their regular troops had now been defeated and the drafted peasants knew better than to get themselves killed on the battlefield while none of the high lords even cared for them or their families. Soon the Saxons moved forward and routed the remains of the Mercian army.
(N.B. Edred Cudel, captain of one of the Saxon Huscarle units, would later tell in the taverns, how he singel-handedly chased the Mercian army all the way back across the border. Although the screenshot above seems to prove it, his story is hardly to be believed. He was merely one of 38 Huscarles who survived of the original 240 and while nobody doubts his bravery (he killed 34 enemies that day) there were surely his own comrades and cavalery to back him up when the Mercian army broke. The honour of most fearsome fighter of the battle goes to Lord Cenwulf, captain of a Medium Cavalery unit, who can add 47 notches to his lance.)
Posting Permissions
Reply With Quote
Bookmarks