The wind rose through Alpheo's fingers, a chilling sensation spreading through them like icy tendrils. He raised his gaze, feeling the cool breeze ruffle his hair and tug at the folds of his clothing.
As he lowered his eyes, he noticed his fingers beginning to tremble involuntarily. With a firm resolve, he clenched his fists, willing the tremors to cease. The last thing a leader needed to do was to show fear, especially now, with the fate of the city being unknown.
A general had to be like a stone, unmovable and unyelding.
Before him, beyond the stone walls that encircled the city, lay the enemy. The army of the Prince of Oizen stretched out in disciplined ranks. Alpheo's eyes traced the movements of their heralds, fluttering defiantly in the wind,the biggest and tallest of which carried the colors and symbols of House Oizen.
The flag of House Oizen, proudly displayed atop a towering standard, caught the sunlight and billowed majestically against the backdrop of the azure sky. Its design was simple yet commanding: a white shield adorned with vertically striped black bands. Alpheo spared it just a brief gaze before moving on.
Each soldier stood tall and resolute, those that had armor glinted in the sunlight as they marched in perfect formation. The rhythmic beat of their boots echoed across the plain as if announcing their arrival in style with the drum of the very earth they stepped on.
The enemy soldiers themselves luckily comprised a motley assembly, drawn from the diverse regions and backgrounds of their princedom.
Clad in a mishmash of armor and wielding an assortment of weapons, they presented a ragtag image of a hastily assembled force. Most were armed with little more than a simple lance and shield, their defenses augmented by makeshift breastplates fashioned from strips of wood, hung down their neck. Chainmail was a luxury afforded to only a fraction of their number, leaving the majority vulnerable to the rigors of battle.
Alpheo observed with a critical eye, noting the signs of hurried mobilization evident in their ranks. It was clear that this force had been hastily raised, likely with the intention of launching a swift assault to seize Aracina before laying siege to its walls.
The infantry made up the bulk of their numbers, with some 400? Alpheo noted from his position.It was hard to get an accurate number, but it was clear they were outnumbered in both bows and steel.
Luckily they had the advantage of the wall.
Yet the heavy cavalry was the one that commanded Alpheo's attention, the true elite of the prince's army. Clad from head to toe in gleaming steel, they cut imposing figures atop their armored steeds, like the characters of a fairy tale.
Each knight was encased in chainmail and a breastplate. Their faces were obscured behind visored helmets as they looked straight up at the city they hoped to sack.
Alpheo's gaze lingered on the heavily armored destriers, their powerful frames harnessed in protective barding. Even the horses were not spared the weight of battle, their bodies encased in armor to shield them from harm. For what good would it be to don armor from head to toe if their mounts were felled by a stray arrow, sending both rider and steed crashing to the ground in a tangle of steel and flesh?
Luckily for Alpheo and his men they were on the defense; if the gods were on their side, the enemy army would be blasted by epidemics and sickness. He was a historian after all in his previous life, and he knew that in a siege most of the casualties came from sickness.
He found himself hoping that whatever thing was in the sky would send yellow fever or diarrhea to his enemy down there.
He was an atheist for most of the day, but he could easily become very fervent when he needed it.
Still the same thing could have happened to them, it was for this reason that he made sure that each of his man washed their hands in water before eating , and that each day they would wash their face and hands. Unfortunately, he did not have soap; still, at least bathing in water was something.
There was no worry about wasting water, since the city was built around a river that flowed in the middle of it, and thankfully, the enemy would have no time to block the river with a dam to make them surrender from thirst, even if they had the engineer's ability for such an endeavor.
As Alpheo eyes turned away from his enemy, he immediately noticed the anxious expression etched on Clio's face as they surveyed the approaching enemy army from atop the city walls. "Well, there seems to be quite a lot of them," Clio remarked, his voice tinged with worry.
Alpheo's response was measured, his tone steady despite the situation. "More bodies to fertilize the ground then," he commented, his gaze unwavering as it swept over the advancing ranks below. "We have the walls separating them from us. If the enemy prince is foolish enough to send his men forward without proper preparations, then he will find himself short of an army."
Clio, however, was still a fisherman thrust into the role of a defender, and as such he swallowed hard at the sight of the enemy host. Alpheo understood the man's trepidation and knew he needed to project an image of control and confidence.
Gesturing ahead, he directed Clio's attention to the trenches that had consumed days of labor. "See those ditches I made you waste days digging?" he asked, his voice firm. "Those are what will separate us from leisurely waiting for them to come and facing them head-on as they throw lives at our walls. If they even want to entertain the idea of assaulting the walls, they'll first have to clear a path or use ladders.'' He chuckled ''And if they dare use the latter- Gods help the fools, for they'll find themselves dropping dead before they even reach us. Have faith in me, friend; we will see the sunrise of another thousand days..."
Clio remained silent at the encouragement , though Alpheo noted a subtle shift in his demeanor. The transformation was slight, but significant.
Alpheo recognized the need to bolster the man's courage, to ensure that he would not falter when the time came, he was short of men already, he did not need cravens in his ranks.
With a determined gleam in his eye, Alpheo resolved to provide Clio with a baptism of fire and blood, placing him on the front lines of the defense where he would learn to stand firm when surrounded by death.
As he turned away from his friend, he surveyed the enemy army sprawled out before the city, his eyes taking everything that they could
"From what I can see, the enemy has no siege engines, no catapults, and no ballistae," he remarked to his men. "That means we won't be hearing stones smashing against our walls day and night. Although it would have been nice if we could have seized one," he added in a lower tone, a hint of desire tainting his words.
Turning his attention back to his men, Alpheo was quick to get them to their station. "Each of you has been assigned a specific task. Get into position and ensure that our archers never run out of arrows, our slingers always have stones, and our men never lack projectiles to hurl at the enemy's head. If we're lucky, sickness may spread among their ranks and cripple them."
Egil, ever the skeptic, voiced his concerns. "Couldn't the same thing happen to us?"
Alpheo considered the question carefully before responding. "Unlikely, if you all follow the instructions I've given regarding hygiene. You've seen the results firsthand; none of us have fallen ill, thanks to regular washing and proper care during our long march out of slavery . But I understand the risk posed by those inside the city who may not adhere to our instructions."
With a thoughtful nod, Alpheo formulated a solution. "When distributing the daily rations, ensure that everyone, in the garrison at the very least, washes their hands before eating. It's a small measure, but it could make a difference. Now, everyone to their posts. The enemy will attempt to fill the moats, so I want our slingers raining down stones on them. Use the stones, as we won't be able to use them once they reach our lines, but conserve the arrows; we'll need them."
With that, he turned away, his eyes, however, taking in for one last time the sight of the army that he would have to defend against to the best of his abilities.