New installments of the Saga

Hi to all, first of all I apologise for the lack of entries in this blog. This has been beyond my control due to a major operation, which was successful, and I am now getting back to full fitness.

The Saga of Yolare will now continue and I have a couple more installments for your reading pleasure. I hope to fight the battle in the snow in the next week or two, this will allow the narrative to continue, once I know the outcome of the skirmish.

A Bitter Rivalry.

Denys Howard, the Thrang of Hammerton was annoyed. With the melting snow there was much to organise at his castle and the surrounding countryside, he could well do without this journey to Leymoor. At least the road was passable, but only just and the horses were moving at a slow walk. Beside him rode his twelve year old son Lawrence, the boy had begged to be allowed to accompany him on the journey. He had relented, it was after all good experience for the boy to see the duties of a thrang.

The town of Leymoor was situated in the South West part of his dominion and, as the Winter worsened, had been suffering repeated raids on outlying farms. The attacks were mainly by men in search of food, the whole of Yolare had suffered this past two Winters. The bands of raiders were too large and well organised to be common outlaws, and Denys suspected they were from the dominions of Hutton Wiske and perhaps Foggerhill too. Both of which would be finding the long Winter difficult. Raids into neighbouring thrangs was a way of life of course, but this year it had become epidemic in scale. From reports received, they had also become more brutal and murderous too. He could not allow it to continue without making a show of strength to show his people that he was in control of the situation.

He had a small garrison based in the town, but it was too small in number to patrol the countryside, with its multitude of farms in this remote area of his dominion. Behind him were members of his Thrang Host and a force of bill men and archers, who he planned to use in a sweep of the region right to the borders of Hutton Wiske and Foggerhill. If those responsible were caught and proved to be outlaws, then they would be executed for the common thieves that they were. However, if they did turn out to be in the employ of a neighbouring thrang, then the usual recompense would be paid by the guilty party and life would continue as before. It had always been the way.

'Father, will there be a battle if you find the men who are stealing from the farms?'

Denys looked across at the boy accompanying him, he did look so much like his mother. He smiled, she would be running the castle as efficiently as always, and no doubt keeping the members of the Thrang Host left behind in order too.

'I doubt we will even see them, as soon as word gets around that troops have arrived, they will melt away, just like this snow. We may be lucky and surprise a group or two, who may put up a fight if cornered, they would have nothing to lose as they know the penalty. I would rather have a prisoner or two though, then I would discover if they are acting alone or if they are in the employ of someone else.'

This time it was his son who smiled.

'Bernard Hache and Phillip Derring, the Thrangs of Hutton Wiske and Foggerhill, is that who you mean? I have heard the talk among the men.

Denys, nodded, 'It is very likely the men are correct, life will be even more difficult and desperate in their dominions, they are poor areas with many hills and forests. Hungry men will do anything to feed themselves and their families, and their thrang would no doubt turn a blind eye to it. I am certain I would do the same, in a similar position.'

Lawrence could not imagine his father ever allowing raids into another dominion without a good reason, but supposed hunger was reason enough. He also knew the history of Yolare, he was a keen scholar of the past, his tutor George seemed to know everything about the land and the people, if Lawrence worked hard on learning his letters and writing, he would reward him with stories of the past. It was from the old man that he had learned of the Great War of the Two Rivers, and of his fathers part in it. It had ended in victory just months before Lawrence was born. His father had been part of the battle that had seen the deaths of the previous Thrangs of Hutton Wiske and Foggerhill.

He could almost recite the stories word for word, of battles and sieges, brave deeds and treacherous acts, but it had claimed the lives of many men, including his grandfather the previous Thrang of Hammerton, struck down by a spear in the final battle with victory in sight. He also knew that the men of Hutton Wiske and Foggerhill had fought alongside the enemy, though formerly part of the Western Alliance, they had switched allegiance during the war, and so had no love for the Thrang of Hammerton, and would have no hesitation raiding inside his borders.

The column moved slowly on, its progress being monitored by eyes in the surrounding hills, they were weighing up the strength of the advancing force, and would report all they had seen...

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                                                        Fight or Die!

The farm cottage was a humble affair, its wattle and daub walls and thatched roof, mirrored hundreds of similar dwellings in the area. The corpses of its former occupants lay out in the snow, their mutilated bodies now frozen solid, had become part of the land. Inside by the fire sat not one, but two thrangs, an unlikely setting for powerful men, but when needs must.

'We will have to pull back with what we have.' said Phillip Derring, Thrang of Foggerhill, 'We have mules piled high with food and fodder.

Bernard Hache never took his eyes from the flames dancing in the hearth. 'It is not enough, and you know it. We will be suffering famine and disease within weeks, no we need more and if that means confronting Denys Howard, then so be it. We have enough men with us to cause the mighty Thrang of Hammerton a problem or two.'

'You heard the reports of the force he has brought with him. They outnumber us, even without the garrison in Leymoor, we came here to pillage not to get involved in a full scale battle!' Phillip shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Bernard selected a log from the neat pile beside the hearth and placed it on top of the already roaring fire, sparks flew as its weight pressed down on the embers beneath. The two men though of similar age, could not be more different in looks and attitude. Bernard was short, stocky and muscular, with a mass of black hair, he also burned with revenge for the death of his father and the humiliation of defeat his land and people had suffered. Already one of the poorest regions in Yolare, along with Foggerhill, Hutton Wiske had been made to suffer.

Tall, gangly and fair haired, Phillip Derring was not a warrior like his father, he preferred a simple comfortable life at his hall. It was only the deprivations of the past two Winters that had drawn him into an alliance with Bernard Hache.

'I have no intention or wish to fight a full scale battle my friend.' Bernard's eyes left the dancing flames and looked directly at Phillip. 'But I need you and your men to cut off and destroy a small part of Howard's force. I cannot do it alone and it will serve two purposes, we can continue to gather the supplies we need and also humiliate him with a defeat in his own dominion. A mighty thrang, bested by a bunch of outlaws and thieves. How would that look to his people?'

Phillip was not at all happy with the way this conversation was going. When the alliance had been formed and they swept into the Dominion of Hammerton to seek supplies at sword point, things had gone well, but Bernard and his men had become more brutal with each raid. They had not only killed the innocent occupants of the farms and small hamlets, but had enjoyed doing it. It was not the way it was planned, stealing was one thing, cold blooded murder was another. Phillip knew, that the Thrang of Hammerton would demand revenge on the people concerned, and it was not going to take the mind of a scholar to work out who was responsible for the atrocities that had been committed. Phillip was not happy at all, but knew he was already in too deep to simply take his men and return home and hope for the best. He would go along with Bernard for now, maybe a victory over a small portion of his force would indeed deter Howard from seeking retribution, in his heart of course he knew he was clutching at straws and there would eventually be a price to pay...

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