Herald of Steel

Like so many times today, Alexander's sudden and precision arrow fire from his crossbows caused a great deal of casualties among his enemy, especially in the first few volleys.

The thick bolts with sharp steel heads pierced through the bronze armor and the light clothes the Margraves men wore underneath like they were paper, before strictly embedding themselves into the flesh- digging deep, deep into the hands, chest, thighs, belly, and for a very unlucky few, even the head and face.

The Margraves were luckily more armored than Lord Kite's leather clad guys.

But due to the close range and the complete surprise of the ambush, the lethality of the wound infected on the unit was perhaps similar if not arguably greater.

Several tens of men fell like scarecrows in a storm, their loud, pained, anguished cries filling the surrounding air as they clutched at their shot areas with shock and horror, trying to stymie the flow of blood without any real hope of success, their lives seeming to fade away from them right in front of their eyes.

And so they soon began to cry out to the brothers around them, pleading and some even clutching their legs in desperation,

"Agghhh! Help! Help me! I don't want to die!"

"Save me! Ohhh…. Please! I have three daughters! They have no mother!"

"Oh gods why? What will happen to my family now? Ahhhh!"

"Brother! Shield! Give me my…. auhhhh!"

However as tragic as this tearful situation might have been, it had little effect on the surrounding men, who had a much more concerning matter to attend to- which was the rain of death that was falling from the sky in the disguise of steel and wood.

"Let go, you idiot! Let go!"

"Fool! You are already dead! Don't drag me with you!"

"Stop pulling me! I can't help you! I also have a family to feed!"

It was like so that many of the soldiers chose to abandon their injured brothers with manic speed, with only a few, who perhaps knew the other from long ago, choosing to extend a helping hand and help them drag their brothers to the safety of a shade, hoping they would not get shot from there.

While some cruel ones simply kicked these injured men to the side and ducked for cover, shouting at the top of their voice,

"Archers! Archers on the bridge! Take cover!"

"Get your shields up! You fools! Get your shields."

"Huddle up! Huddle up and layer your shields."

Like this, the panic aboard the congested ship was such that the confusion caused by the surprise attack perhaps caused more damage than the actual volleys of attack, as the men ran hurriedly and without a thought in every direction, pushing, shoving, hitting, and trampling or throwing many abroad, all in an attempt to save themselves.

And among them, the worst of the offenders were undoubtedly the nobles or their henchmen,

which surprisingly made up a large portion of the force- numbering almost to fifty individuals, with each of course having several bodyguards of their own.

Given that there were only a thousand men total, this ratio of officer to commoner was staggering one- one to twenty, whereas normally it would rarely exceed one to one hundred.

Naturally, this had happened because like Lord Bernard, these nobles too were interested in bringing fame and honor to their families.

And had boarded the ships with great enthusiasm in their hearts wanting to do so.

However, under Alexander's withering ambush, some of the unlucky ones fell in the blink of an eye, many without even knowing what hit them, either dead or at the very least injured.

The sight of such big shots falling just like that was immense, to the point even the commander of the fleet- Lord Bernard chose to 'bravely run' to the decks below, under an umbrella of shields constructed by his bodyguards, leaving the command of the forces to his right hand man Ser Robert.

"Tell the troops I have been shot! And is recuperating in my room. You take the lead." Lord Bernard had hurriedly whispered in a soft, panicked tone, talking to Ser Robert while acting as if his feet were on fire.

Hearing this the bulky man with the black whisper had scoffed internally at this, rolling his eyes to sneer in his mind,

'Weren't you the one who wanted to bring glory and honor by slaying the enemy? Now you choose to run the moment he shows you a bit of teeth?'

But knowing his place, Ser Robert only diligently nodded and contented himself with only giving the scaredy cat a disdainful glance towards his back.

He did not know whether to lament his commander's cowardly disappearance and the devastating effect this would have on their morale.

Or to be glad that with the man gone, he would be able to maneuver the troops his way, the proper way.

There was of course also a third option on what he could do- an option that he had just buried, but was now once again surfacing back up- and that was to abandon the attack and switch to their original plan.

It was a tempting thought, and Ser Robert was pretty convinced he could pull it off without any repercussions. After all, the man who could likely scold him was below deck shivering like a coward.

So he could easily claim later on that they had tried but Alexander's attack had proved too lethal, so they had to run away.

However almost very lucrative, the inertia of his upbringing stopped the man from ordering a change of course.

The man had always been told to obey the orders given to him and so to break a direct command appeared very disconcerting to the man.

In fact, this mindset was one of the main reasons why he was placed as the commander of the Margraves troops in the first place, with the family elders feeling they would then be able to peacefully sleep at night, rest assured that he would not start getting any ideas with their men.

Thus it felt like centipedes were crawling along his skin whenever he thought of disobeying Lord Bernard, made all the more intense by the knowledge he was just one deck underneath him.

It made the man hesitate.

And after a bit of struggle in his heart, he quickly gave up on the rogue idea, much preferring to shut off his brain and carry out the order regardless of the consequences.

Those would be Lord Bernard's to bear.

Thus, instead of distracting himself with such miscellaneous thoughts, Ser Robert put them aside and decided to bring his attention back to the troops, shouting to the others at the top of his voice, "You fools! Stop running and bunch together! They can't shoot you through your shields! Idiots!"

Whether what he said was true or not, Ser Robert's lion like roar did manage to snap the men out of their stupor quickly, and given the simplicity of the order, they quickly complied.

"Quickly! Sail quickly! Get close to the bridge and start attacking!" And as the men complied, Ser Robert turned to the captain to additionally order so.

Time passed quickly, and to Ser Robert's credit, his two orders did work.

The layered shield managed to keep most of the Margraves troops safe, only letting the extremely one or two lucky shots to pass through, and causing minimal casualties.

While the rowers in the decks below worked overtime to cross the small distance as fast as they could, intending to pass through Alexander's concentrated arrow fire with as little time as possible.

And thus soon the ships arrived at their target- they were right below the bridge.

But here came the next set of problems.

Mainly- how were they going to get up the tall arches?

The bridge was built to let most ships pass through under them as a matter of convenience and so it was taller than any ship, much less its deck.

So there was no option to 'park' the thing next to the bridge and let the soldiers use hooks and planks to 'board' it.

So to overcome this challenge, they originally planned to use siege ladders to scale it.

Which admittedly was 'not too bad an idea'.

If they had not run into the slight problem called 'crossbows'.

But with Alexander's raining death from above, the bundled up men found it extremely hard to even get out of their defensive formation, much less prepare the ladders for the assent.

Most could only kneel, lock shields with their brothers, and cower.

However, most did not mean all and hard did not mean impossible.

So under a relentless barrage of threatening expletives from Ser Robert, who whipped the men up into a frenzy, some of them chose to brave the elements despite the danger.

Thus numerous skeletal ladders were suddenly placed along 00:35

the wall of the bridges, and soon a few daredevils began to scale them, holding one, and sometimes even two shields over their head.

You had to give it to them, these guys had the guts to attempt such a dangerous move, especially given the concentrated arrow fire they were facing.

As for whether that courage would bear any fruits, well that needed to be seen.