The lines of age were now creasing Aelfric’s face with greater prominence and frequency. It surprised him little, especially in the midst of strenuous times such as he was now facing.
He slowly ran his right hand through his gray streaked, long hair, pulling it back from his face. The locks were beginning to thin, and his hairline was sitting a little higher up on his forehead. As much as he set his mind against the ravages of age, there was only so much that he could do.
His aching back and knees betrayed what had once been an exceptionally strong, and nearly indefatigable, body. Still able to wield his blade with considerable force and ample skill, he was certainly far from being an invalid, but he knew that he could not sustain his energies as capably as he had in the past.
The thoughts, at one time, would have been enough to depress his spirits, were it not for one lingering realization.
One aspect about him had gotten stronger and sharper with the years. It was an attribute that was far more valuable to those around him than the presence of another thousand soldiers would have been.
That attribute was the quality of his mind.
A growing reservoir of experience and wisdom to draw from, his mind was an asset that he never would have fully appreciated in his younger days. It was the one part of him that became more valuable, as long as he allowed it, with each passing year. It was a weapon that he would now have to draw upon mightily in the face of the unholy storm coming down upon all of them.
Monks had taught him to read as a youth, on the resolute request of his father, the former Ealdorman of the Wesvald, Cynegils. It was a skill that brought ever more rewards throughout the years.
Since he had learned the immensely valuable skill, Aelfric had pored over many of the parchments that were assiduously stored and cared for within the monasteries of his home province. The rich histories and insights of past warriors, learned clerics, and even kings of long ago had been opened up to him. It had never ceased to amaze Aelfric how many situations and dire challenges in those ancient ages closely reflected those of his own time.
The monastery at Jafarne possessed one of the most prized libraries in any of the kingdoms. The preeminence in its holdings was not a lightly held status.
Among monasteries, there was a constant flow of requests for loans of books and codices, mostly so that the borrowed works could be copied before they were returned.
Works of great prestige brought grand renown to the possessing library, and conflicts sometimes erupted as monks went to incredible lengths to get their hands on such works. Finding a rare, desirable work was not unlike finding a new vein of silver to mine.
Abbots and bishops alike scoured the lands both home and abroad thoroughly for particularly special works, and neighboring monasteries often quarreled over the status of works still not returned between them. Many a book carried its own inscription conveying a staunch admonishment for the reader to return it promptly when finished. Quite often such admonishments took on the tone of a curse.
A great library resulted in a population of monks of high erudition, including the large numbers of visiting monks that such a site attracted. Spending time at Jafarne had resulted in a wealth of opportunity for Aelfric to engage in many lengthy discussions with some of the most learned monks in the land. Those times had enhanced and added to the experiences and lessons learned in the other aspects of his life.
There had even been an opportunity to engage in dialogue with Abelard the Venerable, regarded as one of Ave’s greatest minds. The esteemed scholar had been visiting the fabled monastery at Jafarne just seven winters prior. It had been an influential encounter, for in that one day Aelfric had learned to appreciate the ability to forcefully consider, and effectively argue, both sides of any given topic.
It was an art that converted very well to war planning, and the conception of a campaign. The method now helped him immeasurably, to wisely consider all the possibilities inherent with the preparations, to choose the courses that would best confront the coming invasion. That one day, and singular lesson, had been a remarkable treasure that added greatly to Aelfric’s accumulation of knowledge gained throughout the years.
Although there was no way of foretelling what was to come, he found himself relieved that he had endured the oft-times arduous task of learning. Most warriors discounted the importance of letters and erudition, but Aelfric had known from an early age that he had been patiently sharpening a new type of blade, on a distinct type of whetstone. Every experience, whether a day spent at one of the monasteries or within his hall, or traveling through Saxan lands, became a new part of that growth and effort.
It was now a time to apply everything contained within him, in a way that was much greater than anything that he ever had need of doing before.
The levy summons had gone very well, far more smoothly than Aelfric had anticipated. The army would also be very well supplied for several weeks to come.
The Saxans were now in a prime position to offer battle, at a strength that Aelfric knew would be unexpected by the enemy.
“My brothers in arms, what can we expect?” Aelfric queried the gathered thanes, counts, and other leaders rhetorically. “This is no regular force that comes at us. Ehrengard, Avanor, and lands yet unknown are marching against us. The borders have become so dangerous that very little word reaches us, but if my guesses are right, we will fight against many methods and strategies of war.”
“Methods?” one of the thanes near to Aelfric asked, echoing the quizzical looks appearing on the surrounding faces. “What can we know other than what kinds of armies gather against us?”
“We have heard word of unusual ships… very large ships from a faraway land. Men shrouded. Men with darker skins. Men of a different faith. Great numbers of strange beasts, with large humps on their backs. I can only believe that they come from the far north… from the Sun Lands, or lands held by a similar people. I only know what I have learned of some accounts that have been taken of such people and written down… These records cannot tell us everything, but they can still warn us of some things that may come… that is, if we are wise to what is available to us,” Aelfric stated, letting the words sink in to the ears of the attentive men. He then added, “And what is available to us can give us some insight into all the elements arrayed against our lands.”
He then proceeded to comment at length regarding his carefully read accounts of distant wars in former times, taken from the histories fastidiously guarded in the libraries, and reproduced painstakingly in the monastery scriptoriums.
Aelfric had read the main chronicle of the conquest of Norengal, as well as a few accounts concerning other battles within that large Avanoran campaign.
A copy of a treatise on military theory and strategy, written by a great emperor of Theonia, had also been found in the monks’ library at Jafarne. It had referred to many battles in the northern Sun Lands, regions that had seen the constant ebb and flow of great wars all throughout the long ages.
There had also been more than one biography of powerful nobles who had resided in Ehrengard, the vanity of their princely families resulting in the preservation of many great feats of battles, and the details of extensive military campaigns.
The lives of the religious saints were also not without some choice pieces of information, which could be gleaned by the perceptive reader. Often intended to convey a religious meaning, a military lesson could be gathered by correlating the many clues left in the nominally spiritual writings.
Collectively, the various writings represented a witness to the natures of the various forces that were now converging upon the Saxan lands. They were a look through the eyes of those who had lived and experienced the wars and cultures of the coming invaders. The value of those insights, as Aelfric knew very well, was priceless.