Bryce stepped out of his commander’s tent. Around him, faces were set and grim. Nobody seemed happy. And he knew why.
It wasn’t the humid weather, or the distant clouds, that put his men on edge. Today was the day the Harlites were going to cross the provincial border into the capital region. The king had ordered a full-on defense of the small border town of Elyville.
Bryce had already decided that that action was too risky and sent his army back ten miles to await the Harlites on more favorable terrain. But little did he know that this decision would change the fate of the kingdom.
The clouds had grown less distant and the humidity more intolerable before Bryce’s scouts finally spotted the Harlites advancing across the plain in a long line. The sheer number of soldiers on the flat terrain scared everybody and put more electricity in the air. Bryce had a trap set there, though, so he didn’t worry too much.
On the other side of the field, the Harlites’ supreme commander chuckled quietly to himself as he eyed the puny defenses he saw before his great army. Nothing felt like a challenge to him. Wait, what was happening? He felt the day darken. Just the clouds, he thought. But that was far from the truth.
The reality on the front line was that thousands of arrows were pouring down on Harlite troops. And Bryce had a second trap planned too: The Harlite troops were stuck in mud, their horses were scared by the volleys, and their chariots rendered useless.
The rest of the day was a turkey shoot for Bryce. The enemy commanders issued confusing orders and by four o’clock the Harlite line was disorganized and near the brink of collapse. Bryce ordered his troops forward to attack one last time.
On the other side of the field, the Harlite commander was already packing his maps when he saw a sea of red splash from the trenches outside the capital. He didn’t even need to order a general retreat. The entire line disintegrated.
Just as the day was about to be lost, thunder struck in the distance. The enemy commander had an idea. Gathering his most trusted and best soldiers, he crossed a river and burned the bridge behind him.
Bryce’s troops got to the bridge just as the downpour began. The stream became flooded and unfordable within minutes. With low visibility, tiredness, and the risk of ambush, he had no choice but to let the defeated go. The enemy commander would live on to another day and another battle.
It wasn’t the humid weather, or the distant clouds, that put his men on edge. Today was the day the Harlites were going to cross the provincial border into the capital region. The king had ordered a full-on defense of the small border town of Elyville.
Bryce had already decided that that action was too risky and sent his army back ten miles to await the Harlites on more favorable terrain. But little did he know that this decision would change the fate of the kingdom.
The clouds had grown less distant and the humidity more intolerable before Bryce’s scouts finally spotted the Harlites advancing across the plain in a long line. The sheer number of soldiers on the flat terrain scared everybody and put more electricity in the air. Bryce had a trap set there, though, so he didn’t worry too much.
On the other side of the field, the Harlites’ supreme commander chuckled quietly to himself as he eyed the puny defenses he saw before his great army. Nothing felt like a challenge to him. Wait, what was happening? He felt the day darken. Just the clouds, he thought. But that was far from the truth.
The reality on the front line was that thousands of arrows were pouring down on Harlite troops. And Bryce had a second trap planned too: The Harlite troops were stuck in mud, their horses were scared by the volleys, and their chariots rendered useless.
The rest of the day was a turkey shoot for Bryce. The enemy commanders issued confusing orders and by four o’clock the Harlite line was disorganized and near the brink of collapse. Bryce ordered his troops forward to attack one last time.
On the other side of the field, the Harlite commander was already packing his maps when he saw a sea of red splash from the trenches outside the capital. He didn’t even need to order a general retreat. The entire line disintegrated.
Just as the day was about to be lost, thunder struck in the distance. The enemy commander had an idea. Gathering his most trusted and best soldiers, he crossed a river and burned the bridge behind him.
Bryce’s troops got to the bridge just as the downpour began. The stream became flooded and unfordable within minutes. With low visibility, tiredness, and the risk of ambush, he had no choice but to let the defeated go. The enemy commander would live on to another day and another battle.