Post by The Smith on Nov 9, 2008 22:45:33 GMT -5
Ser Samuel Tarly sat astride his horse, looking across the Mander River. Master Flea’s spies in the Mander had reported that Craych Tyrell had issued orders for all Manderlords to support the King, and they were gathering at Highgarden under Lord Rowan. Acting quickly, Lord Tarly had sent his heir with two hundred knights and eight hundred light horsemen to ride quickly along the northeastern border of the Reach by night, until they came to the river, which marked the northwestern border of the Far Reach. The knights were lightly armored, with boiled leather and high-quality chain and scale-mail; their horses would not be able to swim the wide river if burdened by fifty pounds of steel.
Samuel’s longsword hung from his hip, and his Longbow was slung across his back, its string coated with wax to protect it from the water. He gave the order and spurred his horse, surging forward into the water. The mounted soldiers behind him followed, plunging into the river. Samuel had observed the Mander carefully for a day before crossing, determining that low tide would be the safest time to attempt it, and as luck would have it, low tide came later that night when the moon was shrouded by midsummer clouds.
Lord Tarly had a basic idea as to where the Mander armies were, and where they were headed, so he advised his son to travel west and cross the river, so that any men at Highgarden would have to re-cross the Mander to come and stop the Far Reach cavalry from burning their lands. Lord Rowan was marching down the Ocean Road with four thousand swords, but Samuel did not think that they would encounter his army.
Samuel divided his horsemen into two groups, the second under Ser Gerold Costayne, the grizzled old Master-of-Arms at Horn Hill, who had taught Samuel how to ride, shoot, and fight. The two forces of five hundred horse split apart , riding west through fields and small villages, avoiding the holdfasts that dotted the Mander’s grasslands.
Samuel rode through a wheat field, with his sword naked in his right fist while he held a burning torch in his left. His shield was slung across his back, and he stretched his left arm out so that the torch dragged across the tops of the wheat plants that he rode past, causing them to burst into flame and leave a blazing trail behind him, that grew and spread as the fire spread between the dry plants blown around by a light wind. Samuel could see scores of riders riding through the massive fields, every hundred yards, each holding a torch and burning as he went.
Huge black clouds of smoke billowed up into the night sky, as the summer crops burned in the Mander. Samuel bellowed orders to his men, and they began to converge, riding toward the small town that lay in their path. There were no walls here, since war had not invaded this region for nearly thirty years, and so the horsemen rode through the streets setting fire to the thatched roofs and wooden houses that they passed.
A challenge rang out through the air, and Samuel looked up to see fifty men on horses in even ranks, at the far end of the street. “WAR LANCES,” Samuel bellowed, sheathing his sword, and the men behind him began to wheel their horses around into a solid formation, and they pulled free the small, lances that they carried with them. These lances were only eight feet long, compared to the ten or eleven feet of a tourney lance, although these lances were very different. They were made of solid oak, as opposed to ash, and banded and tipped with steel so they would drive right through shield and armor alike, as opposed to exploding on impact. The horsemen facing the Reachmen had a motley collection of weapons; there were not more than three knights among them, the rest were either sellswords or freeriders that had been recruited to patrol the area.
Samuel spurred his horse again, and his men followed him, charging down the street that was deserted but for the enemies. On both sides buildings burned, although there must have been back routes out of them because people could not be heard burning to death inside. Samuel’s horsemen smashed into their enemies, outnumbering them ten to one, and their war lances ripped through the boiled leather and skewered nearly all of the men on the first pass. One of the knights, however, dove sideways off his horse as Samuel charged at him, sending the lance harmlessly over his shoulder.
The knight lashed out with his sword, catch Samuel’s horse across the hamstring, and the beast screamed throwing it’s rider to the ground. Samuel rolled aside just as a sword came crashing down into the ground where he had been lying, and he yanked his own sword free from its sheath at his hip, just in time to parry the second of the knight’s blows. Steel rang out on steel, as the two men circled each other afoot, while Samuel’s men made short work of the remaining enemies. The manderknight was a decent swordsman, but Samuel had studied under his father, who was prodigious with the blade, as well as many other men who had fearsome skills to impart in him and after a short duel he saw his openeing and flicked his longsword in, slicing through the leather at his enemy’s right elbow.
Samuel’s opponent dropped his sword, and Samuel pointed his own blade at the unarmed man who was cradling his arm. “Do you yield, Ser? You fought well and honor-” he was cut off by the knight charging at him, and he saw the glint of steel that must have been a dagger drawn from a hidden sheath. Samuel leapt aside, and felt the blade slash across his left bicep, driving the chain links painfully into his skin but not breaking through the finely made steel. He lashed out with his longsword, and stabbed the knight through the heart. He put his boot on the knight’s chest, to push the corpse off his sword, and then wiped the blood onto the grass. He looked at his arm, and stretched it, and then looked up to see one of the knights ride up to him, leading a riderless horse. Both horses’ saddlebags were packed, likely with anything useful taken from the town that now burned. “Our scouts think that Lord Rowan, or at least one of his toadies, is headed this way. We should ride west, and then re-cross the river and make for Brightwater Keep, since our task here is accomplished.” Samuel nodded wearily at the man, and bounded up into the horse’s saddle. He shouted some ordersorders and his men fell into formation behind him, taking their dead and wounded, of which there were few, on the backs of captured horses, leaving the burning fields and buildings behind them as they rode south and west, for the Mander River.
Ser Samuel Tarly improves to Master Swordsman
Ser Samuel Tarly improves to Master Battle
Ser Samuel Tarly and his Reachmen go “foraging” in the fields of the mander, taking what they can carry and burning what they cannot
Samuel’s longsword hung from his hip, and his Longbow was slung across his back, its string coated with wax to protect it from the water. He gave the order and spurred his horse, surging forward into the water. The mounted soldiers behind him followed, plunging into the river. Samuel had observed the Mander carefully for a day before crossing, determining that low tide would be the safest time to attempt it, and as luck would have it, low tide came later that night when the moon was shrouded by midsummer clouds.
Lord Tarly had a basic idea as to where the Mander armies were, and where they were headed, so he advised his son to travel west and cross the river, so that any men at Highgarden would have to re-cross the Mander to come and stop the Far Reach cavalry from burning their lands. Lord Rowan was marching down the Ocean Road with four thousand swords, but Samuel did not think that they would encounter his army.
Samuel divided his horsemen into two groups, the second under Ser Gerold Costayne, the grizzled old Master-of-Arms at Horn Hill, who had taught Samuel how to ride, shoot, and fight. The two forces of five hundred horse split apart , riding west through fields and small villages, avoiding the holdfasts that dotted the Mander’s grasslands.
Samuel rode through a wheat field, with his sword naked in his right fist while he held a burning torch in his left. His shield was slung across his back, and he stretched his left arm out so that the torch dragged across the tops of the wheat plants that he rode past, causing them to burst into flame and leave a blazing trail behind him, that grew and spread as the fire spread between the dry plants blown around by a light wind. Samuel could see scores of riders riding through the massive fields, every hundred yards, each holding a torch and burning as he went.
Huge black clouds of smoke billowed up into the night sky, as the summer crops burned in the Mander. Samuel bellowed orders to his men, and they began to converge, riding toward the small town that lay in their path. There were no walls here, since war had not invaded this region for nearly thirty years, and so the horsemen rode through the streets setting fire to the thatched roofs and wooden houses that they passed.
A challenge rang out through the air, and Samuel looked up to see fifty men on horses in even ranks, at the far end of the street. “WAR LANCES,” Samuel bellowed, sheathing his sword, and the men behind him began to wheel their horses around into a solid formation, and they pulled free the small, lances that they carried with them. These lances were only eight feet long, compared to the ten or eleven feet of a tourney lance, although these lances were very different. They were made of solid oak, as opposed to ash, and banded and tipped with steel so they would drive right through shield and armor alike, as opposed to exploding on impact. The horsemen facing the Reachmen had a motley collection of weapons; there were not more than three knights among them, the rest were either sellswords or freeriders that had been recruited to patrol the area.
Samuel spurred his horse again, and his men followed him, charging down the street that was deserted but for the enemies. On both sides buildings burned, although there must have been back routes out of them because people could not be heard burning to death inside. Samuel’s horsemen smashed into their enemies, outnumbering them ten to one, and their war lances ripped through the boiled leather and skewered nearly all of the men on the first pass. One of the knights, however, dove sideways off his horse as Samuel charged at him, sending the lance harmlessly over his shoulder.
The knight lashed out with his sword, catch Samuel’s horse across the hamstring, and the beast screamed throwing it’s rider to the ground. Samuel rolled aside just as a sword came crashing down into the ground where he had been lying, and he yanked his own sword free from its sheath at his hip, just in time to parry the second of the knight’s blows. Steel rang out on steel, as the two men circled each other afoot, while Samuel’s men made short work of the remaining enemies. The manderknight was a decent swordsman, but Samuel had studied under his father, who was prodigious with the blade, as well as many other men who had fearsome skills to impart in him and after a short duel he saw his openeing and flicked his longsword in, slicing through the leather at his enemy’s right elbow.
Samuel’s opponent dropped his sword, and Samuel pointed his own blade at the unarmed man who was cradling his arm. “Do you yield, Ser? You fought well and honor-” he was cut off by the knight charging at him, and he saw the glint of steel that must have been a dagger drawn from a hidden sheath. Samuel leapt aside, and felt the blade slash across his left bicep, driving the chain links painfully into his skin but not breaking through the finely made steel. He lashed out with his longsword, and stabbed the knight through the heart. He put his boot on the knight’s chest, to push the corpse off his sword, and then wiped the blood onto the grass. He looked at his arm, and stretched it, and then looked up to see one of the knights ride up to him, leading a riderless horse. Both horses’ saddlebags were packed, likely with anything useful taken from the town that now burned. “Our scouts think that Lord Rowan, or at least one of his toadies, is headed this way. We should ride west, and then re-cross the river and make for Brightwater Keep, since our task here is accomplished.” Samuel nodded wearily at the man, and bounded up into the horse’s saddle. He shouted some ordersorders and his men fell into formation behind him, taking their dead and wounded, of which there were few, on the backs of captured horses, leaving the burning fields and buildings behind them as they rode south and west, for the Mander River.
Ser Samuel Tarly improves to Master Swordsman
Ser Samuel Tarly improves to Master Battle
Ser Samuel Tarly and his Reachmen go “foraging” in the fields of the mander, taking what they can carry and burning what they cannot