Ruprecht of Saxony patted the flank of his horse, he and his retinue had ridden long to reach what he hoped to claim as part of his inheritance, Kozawald, he just had the small problem of the serfs to deal with. The local priest had been filling their heads with ideas about the Church that were blasphemous but just the excuse he needed to kick the Bohemian tenants off his land and install a proper priest loyal to Rome and the Holy Father, not some recently charred heretic Czech.
A knight on foot approached the mounted men, "Greetings Sir Ruprecht, the locals are gathering at a shrine in a glade just outside of the village. I would recommend that we advance on foot. I don't think they have any bows but the ground is no good for horses."
Ruprecht snorted but couldn't argue with the assessment, "Aye, my arse could use a break from the saddle anyway Gustav." The assorted men-at-arms dismounted and were quick to check their weapons and armor. "What are their numbers like? What's the best way to approach?"
Gustav scratched at his chin scruff, "Maybe a score, not many good weapons on them, they mostly been gathering at that shrine. The priest keeps droning on about the sacrament, and the failings of King Sigismund. There is this little boy that keeps coming over to watch me but I have not seen him for some time, I think they may have sent him for more men, but I can not say for sure. I say we just go at them, gaggle of farmers, they will scatter like sheep."
Ruprecht nodded sagely as he hefted his mace and gave it a few practice swings. "Well let us not keep them waiting, we can send the lot of them to hell before supper time, then we can get to the real business of why we came to Bohemia."
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| The Southern edge of Kozawald. |
 |
Sir Ruprecht and his dismounted
knights ready to drive off the
serfs of Kozawald. |
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The local men have gathered with
arms to hear the fiery oratory of
Petrus of Kozawald. |
The boy came running back to Petrus, his cheeks red with effort and his little knuckles white from gripping a stick as hard as he could. "I did as you told me Father! I ran all the way there and back! I brought the men from the old manor. They are coming but I ran too fast for them to keep up!"
Petrus patted the boy on the head, "You do God's work lad. We will see the righteousness of our cause done today. We need simply trust in God and we can drive these German invaders from our Czech lands. Then we can see to the sacrament in both kinds and drive those wicked priests who pilfer the land for their own wealth." The crowd of serfs around Petrus cheered.
 |
The old garrison soldiers of the late
Lord of Kozawald, now under the
banner of the Hussites. |
 |
The goats of Kozawald care little for
the goings on as long as there is
grass to graze. |
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The serfs and Petrus rally around the
Shrine of Ludmila, strengthening
their faith and determination. |
 |
Ruprecht's men quickly advance
taking the shortest route to the serfs
and their shrine. |
 |
The old manor guards advance
quickly through the village to aid
their Hussite brothers. |
 |
The Germans close rapidly clearly
intent on driving off the serfs. |
Ruprecht and his retinue clattered forward, the plate of their harnesses rattling and squeaking, he could spot the upstart priest already, the cur was standing by the village shrine urging the serfs to arms and heresy. "These scum have turned against the Church and seek to upend the natural order of things! Let us show them the error of their ways!" The Germans cheered and redoubled their advance.
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The guards move as quickly as they
can but it may not be enough. |
 |
As they form into a marching column
they realize they are too late. |
 |
| Ruprecht and his men charge! |
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Petrus calls for the serfs to defend
their faith and the shrine to Saint
Ludmila. |
 |
| Clash of swords and scythes! |
Ruprecht thundered forward at the closest serf, the man was swinging a scythe but Ruprecht simply let the ungainly tool pull the man off balance, sidestepping him then caving in the man's head with a measured backhand. The next of the rabble came at Ruprecht and was met head on with the edge of his shield, the serf staggered, his nose a bloody ruin, and before the peasant could recover his footing Ruprecht stove in the wounded man's skull. Not all of Ruprecht's men were fairing as well, Johann was on his back, a short spear sticking out from under his arm as two serfs wailed at him with clubs, Gustav ran one serf through with a sword and yet another fell to Gottfried's poleaxe. With a shout to flee the rabble broke from the bloodied knights.
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"Cowards!" The cries of the Germans chased the fleeing serfs
as they fled from the bloody combat. |
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Having seen enough of battle the boy
fled as the disordered serfs struggled to
find their courage in the woods. |
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The old guards rush to intervene it
what may yet be a victory for the
Hussites. |
Petrus struggled to restore order among the serfs, they hid behind trees and threw rocks at the knights, none of them had seen a battle before, and to see their neighbors slain in such a way had shaken them beyond any hardship they had suffered. "Rally! We must stand our ground! This is our land, the land of Saint Ludmila!" Perhaps if the guards fared better against the knights they would still take the field.
 |
Anxious but hopeful, Petrus tries to
rally the serfs and perhaps snatch
victory from the jaws of defeat. |
Ruprecht was less sure than when the battle had began, Johann was probably dead and while they had driven the serfs off with a bloody toll, Dieter had slumped to his knees near the shrine an was likely too wounded to fight. He was still certain of one thing, his men would fare better attacking rather than letting the heretics come to them, and so again he shouted the order, "Charge!"
 |
With the clash of steel the two bands
again fight. |
Petrus watched in dismay as the armored knights charged into the old manor guards, spears were turned aside and weapon hafts snapped as the Germans crashed home to deliver more death to the Hussites. One more of the invaders fell in the savage flurry but more of the Czechs lay slain.
One of the serfs near Petrus wailed, "God save us!"
He shared the man's fear but could not let it be known. "We must save ourselves, God will give us the strength to see these foreign devils off!" As Petrus turned to look at what was left of his flock he saw only terrified men looking back, and far fewer than he had preached to just a few hours earlier.
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The old guard are routed by the skill
of German arms. |
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Too much to bear, more of the guards flee rather meet death
defending the shrine of Saint Ludmila. |
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Unable to rally his men, more serfs scurry away from the
battlefield. |
 |
With the spirit of the Hussites broken
Sir Ruprecht can destroy their rallying
point. |
Standing on the mound that hosted the shrine of some local saint, Ruprecht surveyed the battlefield. He had lost more of his men than he expected, the serfs driven by their faith had proven deadlier than any peasant had a right to. He looked to where Johann lay under the bodies of two slain heretics. "What a waste, you know I saw him unhorse a Lithuanian in Prussia by throwing his own broken lance at the wastrel?"
"You did not." Gustav lifted the visor of his houndskull to reveal a scowling face, "You are thinking of Utrecht of Denmark, and he died in Prussia." Gustav wiped his bloody sword clean on the tunic of a fallen serf. "Besides, we have taken the field, we killed a dozen heretics, rejoice for we do God's work here in Bohemia."
Battle report for a small (6 point) game of Lion Rampant set in my historical fiction Hussite War setting. Don't know or care if it's one hundred percent accurate but it was a fun test of the Defending the Indefensible scenario. It pitted the small but elite band of German foot men-at-arms against a unit of Hussite serfs and Hussite expert foot yeomen. The initial fight between the serfs and knights was closer than I expected as I chose to treat the shrine as difficult ground to buff the serfs but not debuff the knights, that worked, and will be something I keep in mind for future scenarios. Lots of pics of neat minis so that hopefully my terrible writing was a bit more palatable. Sure to be more and bigger battles going forward.
Still thirsty,
Chris
