Thursday, 13 September 2018

The death-song of Leir’s Sword.


Terryll Arial (Piercing Spirit)
Llefelys and Gwerdded surveyed the huge Roman encampment with grim expressions, as it was enormous and well-built. It lay in the vast bow of the River Mosa as it approached the great Rhine, winding around the eastern fringes of these lands of the Eburones, and the great palisade around it was still raw with its newness. The small fort which had existed here for over three years had been extended and fortified massively this year, housing all the 14th Legion and five cohorts of auxiliaries. The crushing weight of the Roman occupation in this war-torn and beleaguered region had grown alarmingly, along with this fortress before them in the distance.

Whilst Caesar was fighting Caswallawn in Trinobanta, these two Brythonic Kings had come to bolster their embattled family member’s war tactics, by undermining Caesar’s governance here in Gallia. Their mission here would add to the pressure on the Roman General to break-off his invasion of Prydein and return to Gallia. Gwyn ap Nudd’s ancient and devastating Aer y Synod bone-game gambit was a two-pronged attack, and always had been. Lludd Llaw Ereint had sowed the seeds of this coming rebellion in the spring and together the three Prydeinig Kings had lobbied hard for it to commence this summer in support of his besieged brother, but the Gallic tribes had refused. Fearing the increased presence and the martial brilliance of Rome’s infamous 14th Legion and its fearsome response to any challenge, they needed the security of far greater numbers before they would attack this burgeoning fortress, and they constantly claimed they were not ready. Failing to raise an allied Galliad revolt early enough to support his Ewythr Caswallawn in Prydein, King Gwerdded ap Nynniaw of the Northern Gorddoficau had felt it his duty to cross the channel, join his other famous ‘uncle’; Llefelys ap Beli Mawr and together as their ancestors had always done, they would lead by example. This new fortress would be under siege before the snows returned of that both these Brythonic warriors were sure, but that would be too late for their beleaguered relative across the channel. They were not here to conquer that Roman edifice, far from it, they were here merely to cause chaos and convince these Romans that the rumoured rebellion was heating up and apparent.

Almost half of the 14th Legion were out foraging among the broad inland pastures and woodlands to the south but were expected back this hour. Long scouts had brought constant updates to these two Brythonic Kings, with progress reports of almost three thousand men heading this way as they returned wearily to their new stronghold and would soon be traversing this shallow valley bellow them.

Not only had the white-dragons of Gwened and the red-dragons of the Essyllyr come here to do battle against the Romans once more, as an overseas wing of Caswallawn’s bold Aer y Synod ploy, they had also come to swell Ambiorix’ war-chest with much Prydeinig gold for the forthcoming rebellion. The gold coins had been well received, as the greater revolution Ambiorix was preparing would involve most of the fractured remaining tribes, in a bold and hopefully decisive assault on Caesar’s returning troops this coming winter, forcing him to flee south-east over Cisalpine Gallia and home to Italy. 

The Treveri Chieftain Indutio-marw had been nominated Commander of the combined Gallic rebellion, which he struggled to coalesce into one fighting force from his fortress, high above the River Mosella in Eastern Celtica. It was Indutio-marw who had authorised Ambiorix as his sub-commander, to raise the Belgic Galliad for the upcoming insurgency and who it was ultimately, who had given the go-ahead for this Brythonic attack.  Another thousand Galliad volunteers made up the balance of this ambuscade and apart from the element of surprise, the opposing forces would be evenly matched. Llefelys and Gwerdded’s allied warriors would have looked remarkable in their contrasting white and red, and black and red mantles, had they not all been dressed in dark brown clothing for this battle like their Galliad allies. Llefelys’ White-Dragon banner made up for it however, snaking among the folds of the Essyllyr’s crimson counterparts and the black, star-spangled banner of Gwerdded’s sacred Gorddoficau added its gravitas to this unfolding event.

King Gwerdded ap Nynniaw had brought a thousand of the indomitable Essyllyr here to Gallia to fight these Romans and Llefelys had brought a similar number of eager warriors of Gwened from the Armorican coast, all in support of Caswallawn’s optimistic game of bones gambit across the channel. Along with his valiant spearmen, Gwerdded had brought with him from his first cousin King Lleu ap Rianaw in Wenyllon, the re-forged blade of King Leir ap Bladud Fawr, an ancient progenitor to them all and his sundered sword was legend.

Leir’s sword had been shattered almost eight centuries ago by his own daughters Goronilla and Riganna in a ferocious battle. This inter-family conflict for power and control of all Cymbri and Albion, was a notorious part of Prydein’s ancient history and the Bards had worn the lyrics thin over the generations in their florid descriptions of the conflagration, which had set all Prydein and Gallia alight. This was especially so in Llefelys’ Gwened, where the battle between aged father and two of his emboldened daughters had raged.

Goronilla may have ruined Leir’s blade that day but the King and his loyal daughter Cordaella were victorious and had defeated the combined forces of both his other unruly offspring. Almost eight centuries previously, Goronilla and Riganna had laid a claim on Albion and Cymbri respectively when their father had withdrawn from courtly life in his middle-age, overstepping their authority and ousting their rightful sister Cordaella, who was not only the rightful ruler but a Galliad Queen in her own right. This bold and avaricious flouting of Leir’s authority had brought him out of semi-retirement and back into his war gear once more as being Brythonic women through and through, his fierce daughters would not back down. Joining Cordaella and her Galliad husband King Aganippus in Gwened, King Leir and Queen Cordaella had vanquished the two vainglorious sisters, sending them into ignominious exile from where they were never heard from again.

The broken sword of Leir had become over the interceding generations a fundamental icon to both the Gwened and the Cymbri, who are all from the same blood-stock of Beli Mawr and of course the great Leir himself.  His issue, one or more of the remaining Red Dragons of Prydein would once a year without fail on the anniversary of their ancestor’s pivotal victory, carry the two parts of the fabulous blade back to Llefelys’ Capital Fortress in Gwened for an annual celebration in honour of King Leir ap Bladud Fawr.

It had been no surprise when Arfon Mawr, the pre-eminent master sword maker of all Prydein had been commissioned to re-forge this famous sword, remaking it into its pristine and singularly deadly, previous condition. Gwerdded had presented the reformed sword to his regal uncle King Llefelys in all honour and much ceremonial rite on arrival, and it now shone with a terrible and malevolent promise in Llefelys’ fist, as this fierce White Dragon waited eagerly to use it. In fact Llefelys couldn’t wait to wield it in battle to the eternal honour of his ancestors and burned to witness the blade of Leir reaping the souls of his enemy with its deadly beauty once more, after almost eight hundred long years. In honour of this glorious and deeply sacred event, Leir’s infamous banner had also been recreated and its stark symbolism wasn’t lost on any of these combrogi warriors, as it meant ‘no prisoners!’

Leir’s blood-curdling and flame-formed, crimson red pennant was known throughout history as Pennon y Gwaed Didostur and the long and narrow military flag, was only brought out in the most-dire circumstance, meaning nothing less than the ‘Banner of Merciless Blood’. With its ragged edge, this long, narrow and flaming red banner of unflinching vengeance was only carried by those ancient men of Prydein for the most calamitous of occasions, when victory had meant more than life itself. Its glorious reappearance here today added to the importance and the sanctity of the battle to come but as its blood-red folds snaked in the breeze, it told all these awaiting men what was required of them this day. Llefelys had decided on flying the banner of merciless blood today, as Julius Caesar thought himself the bringer of total, all-out war. The King of Gwened this day was determined to introduce these Romans to the ancient, Brythonic type of total war, and every man gathered around him were sworn to the flag’s stark demands.

Gwerdded looked stunning in his Gorddofican plate-armour this late evening and it was completely different to Llefelys’ more continental style of gleaming white, fish-plate armour in the Camlann style, but none the less effective for its intricacy. Gwerdded’s eyes shone, as his regal Ewythr and one of Beli Mawr’s ferocious Dragons, looked as fierce as his late father beside him, with his bone-white and domed helmet standing out from the crowd of officers around them both. With the tension of imminent battle drawing their faces, Llefelys reminded Gwerdded of his late father Nynniaw at that moment, when the dragon’s light was lit deep in those oh-so familiar blue eyes, and he was comforted by it. With their ranks vanishing into the trees behind them, this dual Brythonic Gŵyrd was drawn up, on and behind this hill overlooking the ancient drover’s road below them, which had wound its way to the coast long before that angular, palisaded Roman scar on this sacred Galliad land was even founded.

Pulses were raised now at the hurried approach of all three of their long scouts, as it could only mean one thing. Looking west through the trees, Llefelys and Gwerdded could just make out the distant column of dust which followed the Roman army everywhere it went when the weather was dry, and it marked them well. It also announced their approximate arrival at this ambush point and the white teeth of the Brython’s and their Galliad cousins broke out in earnest. Sounds of crunching feet, clanking armour and the rattling of thousands of marching men reached them on the wind now and the grim light of battle was lit deep in these warrior’s eyes.

Roughly half of the rectangular formations had passed them, before Llefelys made the signal to a cornwr and the war-horns were finally blown. The stark call of two uniquely Brythonic war-horns cleaved the air and this covert side of Gwyn ap Nudd’s Aer y Synod fell into place, here in the besieged lands of the combrogi Eburones. Below an old and ragged but terrible red flag of annihilation, a thousand wild and grinning Essyllyr with their dragon tattoos and their long, drooping moustaches fell into the right flank of these Romans and caught them completely by surprise. The Galliad volunteers attacked their left flank simultaneously and the mindless, unnerving chaos of total Brythonic battle ensued among the glittering ranks of Rome once more.

It was noted by the Bards, that Gwerdded ap Nynniaw in his insurmountable fury looked very much like his late father, who had been the Champion swordsman of all Prydein before being foully murdered by Caesar himself. His glorious son demonstrated why this evening, as he slew Romans with a blazing, white-hot fury unseen in these parts for generations. His vaunted Ewythr beside him was equally ferocious in his twinkling white armour, wielding the repaired and sacred blade of his procreator. The sibilant lament of Teryll Arial was heard once more and the mournful, head-taking song of Leir’s ancient sword whispered again on the wind. In his regal ‘Uncle’ Llefelys’ powerful fist, dozens of Romans fell to the deadly and ‘Piercing Spirit’, as the very late King Leir ap Bladud Fawr’s long and ragged pennant of blood, fluttered its desolate promise of obliteration over all.

The Roman’s officers and their vanguard reached the safety of the fortress and the garrison quickly opened its gates so that the cavalry could pour out in support, but the majority of their foraging force were not so fortunate. They had been utterly ambushed, caught out in the open between the horns of two incensed bulls, and their accurate formations and exact manoeuvring did not and could not save them. What was left of their compatriots, were now strewn across the road and the embattled rear ranks who were now completely cut off seemed to be swarmed by an army of brown ants, amassing under a long and fluttering flag of blood. The officers watched horrified and stunned into silence as their men were subsumed by this ungodly horde of barbarian warriors with their long flashing steel blades. By the time the officers of the 14th Legion could regroup, and their cavalry made ready for the charge, those wildly uncontrollable Gaulish warriors had melted away as quickly as they had appeared, and so there was no-one to attack and on closer inspection, there was nobody left to rescue.

As the dust began to settle, the legionaries were consigned to collecting their numerous dead comrades from the blood-spattered road and both gore-filled ditches, watching their equites withdraw to the fortress for their evening meal with dour expressions. When the last parts of the last remaining dead soldiers and all the scattered weapons had been retrieved and carried into the fortress, a fast rider was dispatched to the coast with a sealed message for Labienus at Portius Itius. It reported the highly organised and costly attack on their Legion and its fortress here on the Plain of Eburone, along with all the latest intelligence and rumour hereabouts of the building rebellion and all here were sure, that the sealed report would find swift passage across the channel to their rampaging General Caesar.

Corresponding reports were sent south-east toward Cisalpine Gallia in similar haste and all were heading for Rome, where a number of important recipients would be kept informed of these developments. Some of the addressees were well-known whilst others were not, but there were inevitably a few hidden copies somewhere on the person of the messenger, destined for powerful but nameless and unknown people in the Roman Capital.

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