Prompt #23

“That crown suits you, love”

“Stoppp you’re just saying that because we’re married”

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again [name], you’re the most beautiful/handsome man/woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And that will never change, dearest”

Battle

Part 8

The Southern King relished the struggle of his foe, the boy King. He would be next. He couldn’t see the man’s face, but he was certain he was grieving. The Southern King turned his attention to the body before him. With one hand, he removed the helm to reveal….

A man’s face.

Confusion crossed the Southern King’s face. Utter bafflement. The Northern King noticed his enemy’s body language change. He dropped his own act and slaughtered the men around his horse easily. He was never a good actor, but with a helmet on, you just had to sound sad. No one could tell he hadn’t been crying real tears.

The man in the Queen’s armor was the same height and rough size, but now the Southern King noted the armor was a bit too tight on this body.

The scout’s fingers grasped the top of the wall. She hauled herself up and over as men below shot arrows into her would-be attackers. She drew the sword she had strapped to her back, grabbing a shield from the ground.

“Captain.” She said, holding a hand out to help her officer over the wall.

“Thank you Majesty.” The Captain replied. The Queen, having taken the guise of a simple battle scout, began to fight off the men that hurried to stop their advancement. Once enough of her people were over, the ladders and grappling hook positions remained safe. They had soon taken that section of wall and were moving forward to the guard station. From there, she’d give the signal.

The Northern King freed himself and horse from the grouping of enemy soldiers. The Southern King, still confused about the body before him, mounted his horse. The Northern King was tossed a shield by the Queen’s General, he grabbed a metal lance that had been embedded into the body of a fallen soldier. He didn’t take his eyes off the Southern King as his horse danced eagerly.

The Southern King caught sight of the challenge, readying himself with a shield and using the mace he has used to unhorse and kill the man in the black armor. As the battle raged on between their men, the two Kings charged at each other, their steeds quickly reaching top speed. This joust wasn’t in play as they would do for summer and winter festivals, this one was the real deal. The Northern King raised his shield as the Southern King swung his mace. The impact of the heavy, spiked weapon reverberated through the metal. The sound of the impact caused some fighters to look towards them. Their horses shot passed one another, the King quickly turning his horse around. He charged back towards the enemy King and jabbed at his face with his lance. The Southern King dodged the lance by leaning back. The Northern King quickly moved the lance and slashed at the girth holding the enemy’s saddle in place.

The unbalanced Southern King felt his saddle slip to the side, and he fell with it. He hit the ground hard, his steed galloping away.

The Northern King whirled his horse one final time, charging back towards the enemy. The Southern King stood and prepared to swing his lance, when the loud blast of a horn startled him. He looked around, back towards the keep, and saw the guardhouse engulfed in flames. Men fighting on the top of the wall, falling, dying.

“What…?” He managed to say.

“Men! Form up! That’s her signal!” The Northern King yelled. His white horse rearing, then charging forward towards the gate of the keep. The enemy King felt the ground beneath him start to shake. He heard a sound like distant, rolling thunder. He could see movement in the darkness of the forests to either side of him. Then the darkness emerged, revealing itself to be Death’s Wings, the Queen’s cavalry. The Southern King could see horses from the young King’s own cavalry join up. The dark cloud of horsed riders thundered over the field. The King and Queen’s men had formed up in straight lines, shields layered to protect the sides of the lines. They knew the cavalry would avoid the lines and trample all in their path.

The Southern King’s General was at his side with a saddled horse. Not his own steed, that animal had abandoned him, but one from a fallen cavalryman. The enemy Royal mounted the horse and the two galloped off, attempting to outrun the darkness behind them.

A young soldier of the Southern King peeked over the wall. He could hear the thunder of hooves. But what he saw chilled him. A lone horseman in gleaming, golden armor charged on a white steed. With him he brought a black cloud of death. He watched his King’s soldiers get swallowed up. He had never seen so many horses all charging at top speed. The sound was deafening.

He turned his eyes from the sight and hurried down the stone steps. He could hear the screams from the battle that now waged inside the walls. He wove between soldiers and hurried to the palace, pushing through a small side door. He ran towards a grotto in the center of the palace, where the Southern Queen sat. Her hands shook as she tried to concentrate on her needlepoint.

“Ouch!” She whispered, having pricked her finger for the fourth time.

“My Queen, they’ll break through the gate soon.” The squire said softly. She paused in her work.

“Thank you for telling me.” She replied softly. She was scared. She could heard the mania that was happening. She could smell the smoke and blood.

The Northern King’s steed neared the gate, the drawbridge was still shut tightly.

Come on, my love. He thought to himself. He needed those gates open that that drawbridge down.

The Queen was trying to fight her way to the gates, but they were heavily guarded. If they can keep the Northern King and his army out, they can shoot them from above, or use hot tar. She was covered in blood by this time, adrenaline kept the fatigue at bay. She pushed and hit with her shield, swung and stabbed with her sword. She fought her way to the lever that held the gate in place.

“My Queen!” Came a yell from steps nearby. The Queen looked and saw one of her younger soldiers swinging a lasso he had fashioned. She gladly backed away and watched the young man fling the rope at the lever, the loop tightened and he pulled. The gate rose up, the Queen changed tactics and sliced through the rope that held the counter weight for the drawbridge.

The young King watched as the drawbridge slammed down with a loud thud, just in time.

His horse flew through the gates, followed by Death’s Wings.

@jgvfhl@eyecandyeoz@iamthespacegeneral@thatonegreyghost

Battle

Part 7

The clash between the line of horses and the Southern King’s men was ferocious. Some of the enemy fighters were equipped with spears, which unhorsed fighters of the Northern King. Arrows rained down, but the King charged onward, unleashing arrows of his own. He has trained in horsemanship and riding since he was a small boy. He was skilled at simply guiding the horse using variations in pressure from his legs. This freed his hands to fire arrows at enemy soldiers.

He managed a quick glance over at the Queen, who had just released a spear. The weapon hit its target, the Queen chased after it, yanking the weapon from the body and continued the fight. The Southern King remained seated on his steed, observing the chaos unfolding.

The scout worked hard on trying to dismantle the small structure that housed the end of the chain. The others had begun a vicious fight with the men on the shore. The housing for the end of the chain wasn’t large, but it was securely dug deep into the ground. The scout looked around for something to help, spotting the fire. It had dwindled down low, but it would work. She grabbed a piece of the wood that was still lit on one end, and held it against the chain’s wooden housing. Gently blowing on the flames, she watched as the wood quickly caught fire. Within moments it was engulfed and she called to the others.

“Captain!! We should be free to proceed soon!” The Captain looked over and gave a nod, signaling his men to start back to the Knarr. One of the enemy fighters pulled a horn from his bag, blowing on it loudly. He managed two signal calls, but the scout silenced his third. The chain groaned, snapped away from the shore and sank. The hot portion of the metal hissed as it touched the water. With their position exposed by the signal horn, the Knarr ships charged full speed up the river.

The battle at sea was bloody and fiery. Ships had collided with each other, or crushed smaller boats. A large portion of the Southern King’s fleet was on fire or sinking. The Northern King’s fleet was scarred as well, but managing to hang on.

The Captain of the King’s flagship was in the midst of giving an order when a massive explosion drowned out all sound. Fire had dripped down into the cargo bay of one of the Southern King’s large warships. The shockwave knocked sailors off their feet, and threw some overboard. Shards of wood were sent speeding in all directions, impaling fighters on both sides. The fireball and smoke billowed high into the air.

The Captain regained his footing, yelling at the helmsman to steer the ships away from the inferno, smaller explosions could be heard erupting.

The clap of an explosion drew the King’s attention sharply in the direction of the sea. He didn’t know what had exploded, whether it was a ship or something on shore. The King’s distraction was only momentary. He jabbed at an enemy fighter with a spear, as he was out of arrows.

The Southern King’s horse reared as he signaled his own cavalry charge. The Northern King yelled to his men to alert them. His own cavalry had taken a hit during the battle, but his fighting force of foot soldiers and the Queen’s men were holding well. The young King’s remaining horsed knights and soldiers rallied to him, as well as the Queen and they urged their horses forward to meet the charge head on. The two armies collided in a chaotic clash that dissolved into gore and screams.

The Knarr ships made it to the wall of the Southern King’s fortress. There they were met by hostile forces who had been alerted by the horn blower. The fighters in the ships raised shields to deflect arrows and protect those readying grappling hooks and assembling ladders. Archers on the Queen’s Knarr ships fired up at the men guarding the wall. They needed to climb the wall and attack from behind. They were all waiting on the success of this tiny force.

The scout was ushered forward and jumped from the edge of the ship to a rope that had been secured to the top of the wall. She only had moments to climb, as the enemy could release the hook any second.

The King didn’t notice his fatigue, the adrenaline kept that at bay. His armor protected his legs to a degree, he still received some cuts in areas less protected. His horse had cuts of his own, but he still reared, bucked, and kicked on command. He was a fierce warhorse. The horse wouldn’t hesitate to grab hold of enemy fighters with his teeth.

The King swung his sword in battle with men who tried to pull him from his horse. He searched for the Southern King in the madness. He finally spotted him charging down the Queen. She had noticed him as well, raising her spear as she turned her horse to change at the enemy King.

She expertly threw her spear, speeding towards him.

He dodged it, raising a spiked mace that swung on a chain. His horse seemed to gather speed.

They were both passed the point of no return. They were either going to pass by each other or one was going to fall.

The mace struck the Queen directly in her chest, knocking her off her horse. The young King watched as she fell to the ground, landing hard on her side. Her movements made it clear she was in pain, stunned. The Northern King tried desperately to get to her, but the amount of fighters seemed to increase and block his way.

He watched as the Southern King turned his horse around, the Queen’s General was charging towards him. But a spear to his horse’s chest catapulted him to the ground. The Southern King walked his horse around the Queen, who was on her back now, facing her attacker. She made no attempt to hold her hands up in fright. She wasn’t scared.

The Southern King dismounted, handing his horse off to one of his fighters. The Northern King yelled at him, his scream could be heard over the chaos of battle. The Southern King ignored him, straddling the Queen. He drew a long misericord from his belt, grabbing the Queen by the front of her armor and hauling her up a bit. The Queen grabbed the wrist that held onto her armor.

Staring right into her eyes, through the small slit in her helmet, he stabbed her at a sharp upwards angle. He wanted to watch her as she died. The Northern King was helpless, he could only watch and struggle to get to her. The Queen’s hand loosened and fell away from the enemy King’s wrist.

@thatonegreyghost OH DAMN LOOK AT THIS

@eyecandyeoz@iamthespacegeneral@jgvfhl

Medieval Times was willdd