The Battle

 

They had been travelling for days through hostile territory, there had been very little here. The odd abandoned castle and town, but really nothing substantial. Even so it had all been empty, they had not seen anyone since the invasion started. 

The army had split it two, in the hopes of finding the enemy and forcing a decisive battle. A scout had just arrived, having failed to find the other half of their forces. It had been like they had just vanished. Ulphia had been marching her troops for days, following the last command she was given. Night was falling, but the scouts had found a place for them to set up camp not too far ahead.

They had just passed through a narrow valley, a good place for an ambush, but with no sighting of the enemy it had been passed through cautiously, but there was no real surprise when they passed through it successfully, the army collectively sighing with relief. The army was in three parts. Up front were the cavalry, mostly medium to heavily armoured troops, who had ridden ahead of the main force. Then behind was the bulk of the infantry, some with bows, some with spears. Then the rear guard, mostly infantry with shields and the supplies where Ulphia was currently, keeping an eye out as they passed through the pass. 

The first group of infantry was now some distance away as they marched on. The rocky pass had a forest to the left and then grasslands on the right. Without warning the ground in front of them bursts into flames, splitting the two groups apart with a wall of flame. Ulphia wastes no time barking orders to the troops in her immediate vicinity. In the dim light they can see figures darting between the trees as they form up a shield wall facing towards them. Her guards form up alongside her on their horses.

She sees a number of figures stream out of the forest, she can't make out who they are. But she can see some are tall and thin, moving like shadows in cloaks. Others stand a few feet tall scurrying alongside them. A hail of arrows streak through the air, many skimming over the top of the shield wall striking people in the head. A harsh clang as the arrows ping off the helmets, spiralling off at odd directions and sending the victims spiralling backwards. Ulphia can instantly see they have been knocked out, not killed. Her heart pounds in shock, seeing a surprising number of her troops subdued by such precise arrow fire.

 She is quickly jerked out of her thoughts as she can hear hooves to her left, seeing a unit of cavalry thundering down the pass they had just come though. She barks more orders, her troops quickly splitting to form up a wall against the cavalry. She could already see they were on edge from the sudden attack. Another volley of arrows are fired at them, now from two sides. This time her troops had raised their shield up to protect their heads. A few arrows strike Ulphia, but her armour and padding make the blunt arrows ping off of breastplate. 

The cavalry had stopped in the pass milling about, seemingly waiting. The cloaked figures had seemingly committed to an attack, tall figures running up towards the shielded defenders, stopping a few metres away and throwing chains along the ground. The riads shields of the defenders made it easy for them to snake between legs, the hooked ends latching onto anything they could. With a solid pull some of the defenders were slammed onto their backs. The figures working in pairs would run back pulling the heapless warriors along the ground. They helplessly kick and scream as they are dragged from their lines into the attackers. Each one swarmed by the smaller figures, their cries stopped and their desperate fighting reduced to helpless struggles. 

Ulphia could see the warriors where on the edge of breaking, she barks at them to hold fast. The shield wall starts to flounder, unsure if to protect their heads or legs from the attackers. Another wave charges towards them again, even more with chains this time. Reflectively the warriors move their shields to protect their legs, but the attackers already know how they will react to another attack. The chains streaks through the air and latch onto shields. They yank on them, pulling them down and exposing the troops behind as another wave follows close behind them. This group are armed with capture poles, the nooses slipping over the exposed warriors in the back of the formation, being bodily pulled over their comrades, each one surprised and gasping for air as they are also pulled away and subdued. 

Panic was now starting to spread, as a horn blast from the valley pierced through the air. Ulphia starts to shout to get them to stand firm as her horse rears up and she is flung from the saddle. She lands hard but can scramble to her feet with the help of her guards. But it was too late, her warriors had started to flee to the grasslands behind them. She follows them seeing the cavalry getting closer as they rout. 

The clink of her armour as she flees is a constant reminder, she was in good shape but she knew she would not get far in her heavy armour. As the cavity is upon them she can see they are mostly equipped with lassos and are picking off people as they go past. Behind yanked bodily off their feet as they catch their legs. One of her guards is caught and she can do nothing as they are dragged off into the assailants clutches.

There is a brief respite as the cavalry peel off. She can see some of her warriors have made it quite far into the grassland. Yet something was off, they seemed to have come to a stop, somewhere removing their chainmail as they struggled to walk. Her heart sank as she realised they had been driven into a bog. She had no hope in crossing it in her heavy armour, and had no chance of getting it off before they caught up with her. In the distance she could see figures on the edge of the bog, even if the warriors did get across without getting caught, they would already be half dressed and exhausted for the people waiting to capture them on the other side. 

She decided to make a stand, turning around and drawing her sword and casting the sheaf aside as her guards to the same, she lowers the visor on her helmet and stands firm to face the attackers. Some of her troops carry on past her, running in a blind panic into the bog to be rounded up later, there was nothing she could do for them. A hail of arrows catch a number of them as they try and flee, most truck in the legs and lower body. They scream out in pain, most of them losing the ability to flee, trying to limp along or get back up again. The tall figures catch up with them, taking a cautious stance around Ulphia as some break off towards the limping warriors. 

Ulphia tries to keep an eye on the warriors surrounding her, but cant help watch out of the narrow slot in her visor as another round on those slowly trying to escape. Unable to move very quickly, she watches as one falls to the ground, still trying to crawl away as a figure pulls out rope from their cloak. They waste no time in putting them into a tight hogtie, like an animal as they struggle in desperation. 

She is jerked back to the moment as one of the attackers lunges. She slips to the side as she moves out of the way of the faint. They keep going, each one taking turns as they are all forced backwards back by back. Soon they are split up from each other, the attackers able to manoeuvre around them. To her dismay her guards are overwhelmed by the attacks, sprawled out on the floor as they focus them down. Leaving her isolated against the attackers, one of them manages to throw a look at her looping around her leg. Reflectively she manages to quickly slice through the rope, feeling unsettled at one managing to get that close anyway.

She keeps fending them off, long man catches keeping her hounded as they stop her getting close as they push towards her. She has to keep on fending off the ropes they try to snare her with. She can feel her body tiering, the constant combat and the heavy armour was wearing her down. She could see they knew that and kept pushing her. An arrow pings off of her helmet, leaving her rattled as it vibrates around her head. Then something smashes into her, spilling a sweet liquid that makes her head spin. She was determined not to give in to them.

As she is dazed they manage to loop ropes around her legs and arms, unable to do much than be pulled around by them. She gathers her strength, arrows striking her as she cant move as far anymore as she feels her body flagging, she tries to swing at the ropes, but cant manage to cut through them in her weakened state. She couldn't stop her head spinning as she tried to focus, bringing her arms together to give her enough strength to hold her sword in both hands. An arrow strikes her hard in the helmet, making her vision blur as she struggles to keep focused. A lasso is thrown over her sword and down to her hands and cinched tightly binding them together, she looks down as panic overwhelmed her as she struggles to pull her arms apart. 

At that moment a man catcher’s crook around her neck and knocks her bodily to the floor, the sword knocked from her hands. She lands on her back, the last of her breach knocked from her as her lungs burn from all the exertion. She lays helplessly on the soft ground as the prongs of the man catcher are driven into the dirt pinning her to the floor. With that the attackers are off to run down anyone who had not made it far into the bog, herding them into the arms of the others. 

She desperately tries to remove the man catcher, her hands struggling to get her arms in place, but she can't get a grip on the smooth shaft, just not able to get a grip. She grunts in desperation, trying to arch her back or push up with her legs. But a combination of the awkward armour and exhaustion stops her making any progress, she slumps into the mud defeated. As she succumbed to a huge exhaustion and the liquid she watched in a daze as the smaller creatures from before started to arrive. They start to bind her companions with ropes to render them helpless. The dazed warriors can't put up much of a fight as they are swarmed, the multitude of hands making it impossible to fight against. Then each one is bound with ropes, some gagged if they start to put up any of a fight. Any in heavy armour has it cut away, and items of clothing are cut away seemingly at random.

Ulphia does not have to wait much longer before she can see a tall and imposing woman towering over her. Dressed in light armour with a regal and commanding look on her. With a gesture Ulphia is swarmed by her minions. His instinct is to fight back even in her exhausted state, futilely straggling in a desperate bid to get away. Hands grab her weakened body and start to manhandle her. The man catcher is pulled from around her neck, giving her a moment of respite before her helmet is pulled roughly from her head. Exposing her face and matted messed up hair, making her feel suddenly very exposed. Her wrist still bound is pulled over her head and pinned in the mud, her legs also held down. She can see them pull daggers from their belts, making her eyes widen with fear. They start to slip blades between the gaps in her armour, starting to see away at the leather straps holding it in place. One by one each piece is cut away and pulled from her body, exposing her more and more. She starts to swear and cuss at them with the last of her energy, she has a bit forced into her mouth and strapped around her head for her defiance. 

Soon she is in nothing but her tunic, boots and hoes. Unable to do anything to fight back anymore, exhausted and silenced she lays in the mud panting. She sees them bring over more rope, the ones binding her hands are cut away before she is forced onto her front. Her tunic is instantly soaked through by the wet ground as her hands are pulled behind her back. Her right wrist is bound to her left elbow and the other way around before ropes are looped around her front and bound tightly around each one of her breasts making her gasp as the ropes are yanked tight.

As she lays in the mud she feels a knee in the small of her back pushing in deeply. From the weight it was the woman who was pushing down. She could feel the air levelling her as she groaned, her hose pulled down to her knees as she felt cold fingers run along her pussy. A hand grabs her braid and yanks her head back as the fingers force inside her. Eyes widen in panic at what is happening, the woman starts to stimulate her making her squirm and struggle. The once proud knight lets out an undignified whimper like a trapped animal as the woman slowly but surely coxes out an orgasm from her. She finally cums, her body bucking and squirming in the mud, tears in her eyes as she shamefully gives into the forceful orgasm.

She slumps down as her hair is let go and the woman gets off of her. She lays in the mud, her hoes pulled back up and her legs bound with rope, leaving her able to move them far apart, so close together she could not get up on her own. She is left where she is in the wet, panting and alone. Stuff happens around her but she is oblivious to it. Finally she is pulled to her feet and marched back to the road where her troops are waiting. All of them having been rounded up, and bound in ropes the same way as she had been. She is pulled to the end of a coffle with the others, a knotted crotch rope is pulled between her legs and the other end being made into a noose and slipped over the head of the prisoner in front. She feels a rope slip over her head, heart pounding as someone is added in behind her, heart pounding as the ropes are tightened. 

They are then made to continue the match they had been on hours before. In neat lines, four abreast behind a wagon filled with their own equipment and supplies and several individuals in each row. She feels the rope start to rub between her legs, like the person in front of her. She can't help being stimulated, as they each stumble with small steps, the wagons not waiting for them as it drags them along. She feels her body becoming aroused, her face flushing red and her nipples hardening under her wet tunic clearly shown, a wet patch between her legs soaking her hoes as they are pulled along. The noose tightening around her throat as the one behind struggles to keep up, each of them struggling for breath between the choking ropes and the forced stimulation as they can give neither any slack.

Soon they are brought to another group, her heart sinks as she realises that it's the unit they had been separated from. All locked the same, half nude and collared. Lined up in a slave coffle as they head deeper and deeper into enemy territory. Eventually they find out what happened to the cavalry, mostly made up of nobles, and once again each and every one was helpless, a train of horses along with them now they have little need for them. She hoped the Queen’s half army was going to be able to save them, but with no word from the scouts and the army having seemingly vanished, it was very likely they were going to meet them soon, and neither would be in a position to help the other.