PFC Chapter 1 March on the South Bank
Chapter 1 March on the South Bank
The Loire River might be more deserving of being called the mother river of the Gauls than the Seine, Attil thought to himself.
In 1427, when Paris had already been occupied by the British, the Loire River remained firmly in French hands. Even on tributaries like the Loire on the north bank, the French were still vying for control with the British.
He was marching on the south bank of the Loire River, a lieutenant holding up his banner, followed by hundreds of cavalrymen. They all advanced silently, heads bowed, subtly surrounding Attil. The leading knights were fully armed, their robes billowing slightly in the wind.
Along the entire south bank, a long column of about five hundred men was scattered about, which was exactly the size of a typical French company.
Atil looked at the sun overhead, calculated the time, and was about to urge the group forward when suddenly there was a commotion behind them.
He reined in his horse and turned around. He saw that several large carts at the back of the column had stopped moving, blocking the entire convoy. Several armored soldiers were sitting directly on the ground, their armor still on, helmets tossed aside, panting heavily. The leader shouted, "We can't go on, let's rest!" Inspired by them, the shouts of the infantry in the rear column grew louder and more chaotic.
Atil frowned, and his adjutant had even put his hand on his holster. But before he could do anything, an old man rode out from a group of red-haired men, his whip cracking on the ground with a sharp "snap".
"Get up!" he roared. "How long have we been walking? I could hold out for a whole morning fighting the British in Agincourt over a decade ago!" The armored soldiers shrank back, none of them standing up. The one who had led the commotion looked up, his face covered in sweat, his lips pale. "Sir," he said, "we simply can't walk anymore. We've been walking all morning in our armor. At least let us take off our outer armor and put it on the carriage! Otherwise, we'll be exhausted before we even see a single British!"
The old man raised his whip, then stopped. He stared at the face for two seconds, then lowered the whip and glanced back in Atil's direction. All the knights around Atil had turned around, dozens of them, wearing grey cloaks, even resting their hands on their sword hilts. Atil nodded to his adjutant, Roland, who spurred his horse and galloped away, only to return a moment later, reporting in a low voice, "Sir, it looks like he really can't walk anymore; the man's boots are worn through, and his feet are covered in blood."
The old man followed and said to Atil, "It's not that I'm being presumptuous, but even the toughest man can't stand being made to walk in full armor all day. Back when I was being chased by the British in Agincourt, I had to throw off my armor and weapons to keep running. Let them rest for a bit, and let these lazy pigs chase them again this afternoon."
Atil pulled a sheepskin map from his saddlebag, laid it on the shield engraved with his family crest, and slowly traced the lines marked with charcoal with his finger. He checked the position of the sun, then said to his adjutant, "Roland, let the troops rest for half an hour. Those who led the charge will be fined a month's pay, and this is a one-time exception. Tell the infantry that they can remove their outer armor this afternoon, but they must put it back on before we reach the town."
Roland nodded, pointed out a few knights to relay the order, and then rode to the armored soldiers to announce the punishment. The armored soldiers sitting on the ground were stunned for a moment, then scrambled to their feet, muttering "Thank you, sir," and some even bowed in Atil's direction.
Cheers erupted from the entire column, the loudest coming from the group of red-haired warriors. They cheered first, then laughed, speaking in Highland languages. After they finished laughing, several of them dismounted and followed John, helping the armored men to their feet and handing them their water pouches.
John walked over to the carriage and kicked the wheel: "Move the carriage to the side of the road so it's not blocking the way. Take off your outer armor and throw it on top. No cooking! No lying down! Send a few men to stand guard. Anyone who doesn't get up in a quarter of an hour is going to push the carriage!"
The cavalrymen behind Atil gathered together, silently watching John bustling about, none of them dismounting. John paid them no heed; he went to another group of crossbowmen, exchanged a few words with their leader in Italian, and only then did the leader order them to disperse. The crossbowmen set up their shields beside the wagons and rested against them, while the rest squatted by the roadside checking their crossbows. Three men, however, did not rest and went out to keep watch.
After finishing his work, John came back, snatched the water pouch from Roland's hand, took a few gulps, wiped his mouth, and said, "How much further do we have? You're not someone who's never led a team before. Getting people to put on armor and march is nothing compared to this little commotion."
Atil didn't look up, pointing to his gleaming silver armor, and replied sullenly, "I didn't make them walk all day, just one morning. There were carriages with luggage and on the main road; it's those armored soldiers from Boerbin who lacked patience."
He looked up and pointed to the north bank: "John, three days ago, the last village on the north bank of the Loire was gone. The English are sweeping through all of Maine and will likely head towards that bridge just like us. We could run into the English at any moment, so I was planning to walk two more leagues* directly to the town at the bridgehead to set up camp."
John handed the water bag back to Roland, then thought for a moment: "Should we send out some more spies? I think I still have a few lads who are in good spirits."
Atil pondered for a moment: "Okay. Send them to the village on the south bank to see if the villagers have evacuated and to look for food. Also send people along the river to check the water depth and the bridge. Don't let them cross the river."
John was about to mount his horse when he suddenly turned back: "Since the English are on the north bank, I'll take a few good men to find them; we're outnumbered, so we need to find out what they're up to first." Before Atil could reply, he mounted his horse and headed to pick up some men from the Irish lads, and soon disappeared with them into the grove of bushes to the east.
Several archers even tried to start a fire to cook, prompting Roland to rush over and stomp it out. Atil sighed, looking at the army divided into four groups, each speaking three different languages.
A motley crew, Atil couldn't help but think.
After a quarter of an hour, the group resumed their journey. The flag behind Atil fluttered in the wind, revealing an iris flower.
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For the English, the fourteen years following Agincourt were the most glorious of the Hundred Years' War. The English army continued its southward expansion, reaching the Loire Valley, seemingly poised to bring all of France under the rule of the infant King Henry VI. King Charles VI of France died six weeks after his son-in-law, Henry V, and Henry VI of England simultaneously became "Henry II" of France. This dual monarchy functioned remarkably smoothly, and at times, Parisians also fought loyally for the regime.
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A Brief History of the Hundred Years' War by Desmond Seward
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*One medieval French league was approximately equivalent to four modern kilometers. This conversion method will be used consistently throughout this article and will not be repeated hereafter.