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Battles That Changed History, Second Period, Friday 2/12

Class was once again meeting in the Danger Shop this week, and found themselves standing atop a ridge in the English countryside. "Ladies, gentlemen," Steve said, "I'd like to welcome you to a year and a place many of you may have heard of. This is Senlac Hill, about six miles outside of Hastings, England, 1066 AD. There will be an abbey here, and eventually a town, both named Battle, because the one that happened here is...kind of a big deal.

"In January of 1066 Edward the Confessor, king of England, died. There were three contenders for the throne: a cousin, a nephew, and a powerful noble. The nephew was too young to hold a throne, so he's out. The cousin, William of Normandy was...well, of Normandy, so he was foreign, and of illegitimate birth, so even if Edward had verbally promised him the throne before, when Edward decided to make Harold--with an o--Godwinson his heir on his deathbed, everyone was pretty much fine with that. Except, of course, William. Additionally, Harald--that's Harald with an a--Hardrada, the king of Norway, saw in the transition of power an opportunity and wasn't about to waste it, so his army invaded in September of 1066. After the English pushed themselves in a hard march to meet the Norwegians, Harold and Harald's forces met twice, the first time at Gate Fulford, where the English were defeated, and then on September twenty-fifth at the Battle of Stamford Bridge, where Harold Godwinson was victorious and Harald Hardrada wound up dead with an arrow through his eye."

Steve paused. "Then, Harold had to turn around and march his forces south, with little rest, because William was invading from Normandy. They met on October fourteenth, here. The English army had already fought two major battles and made two long marches less than three weeks prior. They were exhausted and not at full strength. The invasion force, on the other hand, had met no resistance thus far because the entire English army was off fighting the Norwegians, so they were fresh and rested. The English had the high ground, and William's tactics didn't work as well as he'd planned, but the state of the English army worked in William's favor. His plan had been to use his archers to soften up the English early in the battle, but their shield wall was too effective. Later in the battle, though, the housecarls who held the shield wall were exhausted and pulled back, and the fighters in the front ranks were less likely to have heavy shields. So he ordered his archers to attack, and even brought them in close enough to shoot over the shield wall at the back ranks. Harold Godwinson wound up dead." Steve paused, then said wryly, "Also with an arrow through the eye. William the Conqueror was crowned king of England on Christmas Day.

"Within three weeks, in an interesting twist of fate, the last Viking king of Norway and the last Anglo-Saxon king of England, both named Harold, were both killed by being shot in the eye, and the Normans came into power in England. The Norman Conquest is...huge. It turns the wheel on England's culture again, from one that had been dominated by waves of Scandinavian invasions to one heavily influenced by Europe, especially France. It solidifies the English system of government and brings new influences to the language."

Steve let that settle in for a little bit, then said, "While we enjoy this...lovely English fall weather," hey, it was better than home right now, "let's break up into pairs or groups and discuss fighting when you're not fresh. Was it a stupid risk, or one Harold couldn't afford not to take? When is it justified in your mind?"

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Like you've been marched across England and back twice in three weeks.

Arthur Pendragon

Leto Atreides

Illyria

Andros

Gabrielle

Leia Organa

Claudia Donovan

Mat Cauthon

Lion-o

Kurt Wagner

Marco

Kyle Reese

Talk (very quietly), take notes, admire the scenery, etc.

Arthur wasn't taking as many notes as he usually was; he was basking in the weather.

And beaming rather a lot.

Leia was paying attention to the lecture. Rebel forces might get desperate and tired in the future, after all, so there were lessons to be learned.

Memories of the the last stand of Manetheren tumbled through Mat's head, of the day the thorn in the Dark One's side was finally trampled underfoot. They had been exhausted, but there had been no one else to call on.

And they'd been slaughtered.

"Carai an Ellisande! Al Ellisande! Mordero daghain pas duente cuebiyar! Al Ellisande!" he murmured under his breath, unaware he was speaking aloud.

Arthur noticed mainly because Mat's talking interrupted his stream of thought. He paused, shooting him a funny look. "Mat?"

"Yes?" Mat replied, snapping out of his daze. He then blushed brick red. He'd hoped he'd stopped that annoying little habit of speaking the Old Tongue randomly.

It had sounded a bit like Merlin doing magic, except not, so. Funny look: it continued. "What was that?" he prompted.

"Old battle cry," he mumbled.

Really old. A thousand years old. "Something about this set up reminds me of an old story from home."

Huh. Arthur glanced past Mat to the scene surrounding them. After a few moments, his eyes made it back to the man. "A war story?" he prompted again. "Might as well share it, if you're going to cite from it."

"The Ten Nations arose after the Breaking of the World," Mat began, tone unconsciously echoing the gleemen who'd told him this tale (though Thom would lament that the story sounded infinitely better in High Chant rather than Common), "and Manetheren was the crown jewel among them. Its army was the thorn in the Dark One's foot and the sword that could not be broken, and under the terms of the compact between the nations, that army was always sent out to aid the others when trouble rose."

Now Mat's voice with tinged with a bitterness that was at odds with a story that had happened a thousand years ago. "But when the armies of the Dark One marched on Manetheren in the Trolloc Wars, no one came to their aid. The Army of the Red Hand had been fighting hundreds of leagues away, but when they heard their homes were being threatened, they marched home and made a stand on the banks of the Manetherendrelle. And there, exhausted and friendless, with the landscaped blackened by the armies of the Shadow, they were completely exterminated and Manetheren was razed to its foundations. The nation never rose again."

He recalled what he'd said. "Mordero daghain pas duente cuebiyar! Fear of death does not hold my heart. The Red Hand is still legendary, a thousand years later."

"And for good reason, sounds like. You've mentioned Manetheren before, I think," Arthur said, thoughtfully, running his mind over the tale Mat had just spun. He shook his head once, for clarity. "A noble motto, above all things." He pursed his lips. "Where did you learn to speak history like that?" Their own books went back a scarce few hundreds of years.

Mat looked a little shifty. "Our books are good." Like Mat read. "And our gleemen keep the most notable battles alive through the retelling of the tale, even if some of the specifics get lost. Emond's Field, where I'm from, is where the final stand took place. The tale is in my blood."

Quite literally.

"Your people use it to inspire themselves," he guessed.

Now that they knew of the story, but Mat wasn't going to expose his village as being the unlearned backwater it had been before Moraine arrived and told them of their history.

"Manetheren might rise again," he said with a little shrug. "From what I've heard, a friend of mine is trying. What the Red Hand faced at the river is going to be a mere skirmish compared to what the Shadow will throw at us at Tarmon Gai'don. Men need to take comfort in what they can."

"Build a new settlement there?" Arthur asked, raising an eyebrow. "It'll be years before it will grow to anywhere near the size you're speaking of."

"There are settlements here and there," Mat said, "and the writ of Andor runs pretty thin out past the Mountains of Mist."

Of course, the queen of Andor tended to believe the lines on the maps...

"Still," Arthur said, thoughtfully, "To connect all of them would take a lot of military strongarming, nevermind the building materials..."

Arthur, you were going to have from Ireland down to the Roman Empire, don't overextend yourself, now.

"We have maybe a year left before the end of the bloody world," Mat said. "It's probably too late for anything lasting to get started."

Was Harold stupid or just desperate? Under what circumstances would you take the risk of sending tired men into battle?

"I think it was a combination of both," Mat replied. "There wasn't anyone else he could call on for reinforcements, was there? And they were invading his bloody country. It's hard to be rational about that."

"There were possible reinforcements, but they would have had to wait, and Harold wanted to pick his ground, and show that as the new king he could successfully defend the country against any and all comers. Obviously, this didn't work out as well as he'd hoped."

"What would have happened if he had waited?" Kurt asked. "Could he have rested for a few days, or was William too close to London and stuff?"

"He could have waited a few days and gathered reinforcements, but William would have gotten closer to London, and Harold would lose the chance to choose his ground," Steve said. "It was a tradeoff. Of course, William wasn't exactly razing the countryside, since he thought of it as 'his.' It's hard to say what would have happened if he'd waited, since we don't know where the battle would have wound up happening--it wouldn't have been Hastings--and that would have affected the outcome, as well."

"But..." Kurt said, trying to think this out, "If the citizens were safe, then couldn't he AFFORD to wait? And pick his time to fight later? When he's more ready?"

"Desperate." Marco decided. "He took a risk and lost. And of all his options, it was actually the best risk he could take. Anything else - like wait or split his army - would have put him at a bigger disadvantage. Yeah, it sucked that his soldiers were tired, but what else was he going to do?"

Once they ping in.

The fall weather really was lovely. It was just a simulation, but Arthur had visibly brightened as soon as they'd made it into the familiar-ish territory.

And it was raining.

He'd never thought he'd be grateful for English rain-slash-humid-air, but there he was.

Mat was there as well, not quite as thrilled with the scenery as Arthur, but still glad to be out of the snow for however long the class lasted.

It's what he's here for.

I'm already getting nervous about the Captain America movie, y'all...

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Battles That Changed History, Second Period, Friday 2/12

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