have been born rich, Kickson had received an education. The man could speak three languages, had studied history, and had actually written a book. An intelligent man who led with logic, he avoided emotional decisions better than most, acting only on the facts he saw. The man was an excellent tactician, and could be expected to act as he should. He did possess the soldierly mindset; he was a tough and superb fighter, maintaining both his discipline and awareness under the stress of fighting. Not the best leader, Kickson was still a fine Captain; too emotionally detached for the men to truly love him, but respected for his ability. Albert was not the type to inspire men with words, instead he reminded them of his past successes, and only through harsh discipline and training, were achieved. A dependable man, and would be relied on.
He returned their salutes; his words with the two would wait. This young one worries me. I know he is able but will the pressure be too much. God help him, a Full form is no damn section of twenty men. Too many officers have died, to have to depend on him. Twelve-thousand, three-thousand horses…God help us!
Continuing with Center’s leader, “They do look ready good Captain, and with what has come to the field today they’d better be. Captain your men be ready,” the Lord paused, looking strait at his young Captain, face all grim seriousness, “Are you ready captain? I depend on you as a Form leader, and will expect much from you. You’re decisions be as important as mine be, and I want to know you do believe you can make them. Captain are you ready to lead these men, will you have them do what they must?”
The young responded quickly, his face hard with anger and pride, obviously resenting the question. “Mi’lord Captain, I have proven my abilities sir, have shown my worth on the field before. I am ready sir, and the men of Center are behind me. Center Form is behind you sir, and can be depended on. Sir it was an honor to be appointed Form Captain, and I pledge sir, that I will lead them to honor and victory.” The young captain looked confident, but the Lord Captain still worried.
“A fine ideal young Captain, but war is no place for pledges. Lead them the best you can, and do your best to keep them alive. Pledge to that if anything, honor has no place in wars, and only victories with men alive after are worth attaining. Remember that sir, you will do well.” Edward nodded understanding, though he could only hope the young man truly did. Rob and Albert definitely did, both nodded agreement.
“Rob I trust the Left do be in good order?” The Lord said
“Aye Mi’Lord. They be in order. They have high spirits sir, ready for a fight they tell me, but itching for one it looks like to me. The Left waits for your orders, Mi’Lord” Rob said. Only that was necessary. Rob knew what he was doing.
“Captain Kickson the right do be in order?”
“Yes My Lord Captain the right is in order sir. They wait for your orders, and are well prepared and rested to carry them out. And if My Lord would hear me, it is said the Right is in order, sir. A Lord should speak correctly, sir.”
All but Albert chuckled at his correction. “Albert, if language mattered in what we do, I do believe I would have taken up correct speaking long ago, or I’d be dead.” The Lord laughed with his captains, the diversion would help their nerves.
“Yes My Lord, that is true.” Albert said.
“The men’s spirits Albert?” He asked, returning to seriousness.
“You know of my poor judgment in this My Lord, but I would from what I have seen say they are high. I’ve heard men jesting of the enemy, boasting of themselves, and seem to be anxious to begin the fight. They seem their normal selves sir, behaving like all soldiers prior to an engagement. So yes sir, I believe their spirits are high sir.”
“Good Captains,” he addressed the three of them, looking up to the hills crest, “we do have a hell of a fight ahead. My count says the enemy posses near nine-thousand foot, with at least three-thousand horse. They likely have more horse near by, as only the heavy is visibly forming. Their foot be massing on the right and left of the hill. Mostly levy pike-man, thought they have reported to posses professional level infantry, halberdiers, swordsman, archers as well as other specialist foot. These types only make up, as my worst estimate, two or three thousand, the rest be peasant levy. At least one-thousand of this number be archers, which may seem troubling but, our hill position keeps us out of range as long as we remain. The horsemen that we know of consist of three thousand heavies, the glint of them looks to be plate armored, and they are massing across from our center. Probably gonneh come strait up at us.
“Sirs, we face some ten times our number today. Pikes will come at our sides, and heavy armor will charge at out faces. We occupy high ground and their numbers do put us in on the defensive. We’ve no foot to guard our flanks, no archers or light cavalry to break up their formations, no reinforcements on the way; we have our backs to a wall. Sirs, this will be a hell of a fight, but the day doesn’t look to be ours.” He paused for a moment, “Let us look on the field, maybe up there we’ll be closer to heaven, and receive diving inspiration.” I pray He does, for I know not what to do. Twelve-hundred men will die today, twelve- hundred of my men. What can they do against Twelve-thousands? What can I do?
The four men trotted to the top of The Mound and looked on a writhing mass of men and horses. The field below them was flooded with soldiers, banners waving over the formations of men and horse. Some half mile or so square of the land below The Heap was obscured from the man’s sight, his eyes showing nothing that said any dirt was even there, only these men. Under this horde’s feet, the mud on which they stood seemed to have been crushed to oblivion, the ground unable to survive such a mass. Their weight too much for God’s earth to bear, the Lord Captain watched somehow expecting the world to fall from under them. God save us. So many.
