April 8th, 1400
Breton Camp, Outside Anjou.
Five thousand men now held the Anjou region, all that remained was the city itself. A Thousand more men were sent to isolate Maine and prevent the enemy from using it as a spring board. The Breton fleet sailed south to Spain to ensure none would escape and with Bohemia neutral, Savoy was certain to join the conflict.
Now, it was merely a matter of time.
With that thought he took another glass of wine.
The Gates of Anjou
Paol yawned. He stood sentry to the thousand or so fighting men and many civilians that were held up inside the castle of Anjou. The Duke had made his policy quite clear; They were to keep a distance an allow anyone passage outside of the castle but no one was to enter. Makeshift fortifications were thrown up around the outer perimeter of the castle but it seemed that no one was coming to save them. Handfuls of civilians had left and none had tried to return. Provence had little influence in this area and the steward rather than the people insisted upon the castle's defence. It was only a matter of time until it fell and if they were lucky, it might be done bloodlessly.
Aougren rode into Northern Italy. It had been a long journey through France without a proper escort but it had passed largely uneventfully. He disliked the idea that while the rest of the Duchy marched against Maine and Anjou, he was recruited to coax some upstart Duke into honouring his alliances. Still, he was welcomed with the proper respect as he entered into Nice. They knew what was due a man of his stature speaking directly for the Duke, Aourgen thought.
Amadeus: A pleasure Sir, but I see the Duke has not ridden himself.
Aourgen: He is outside of Anjou, leading the battle. Diplomatic missions take a lower priority than the success of the Duchy. You are the count?
Amadeus: That I am.
Aourgen: Bohemia hasn't entered the war. King Václav has signed an alliance with Louis Phillipe of Burgundy removing their potential rivalry. They presumably have other matters to attend to than protecting the Provencal claim on a few scattered Provinces in France.
Amadeus: They still have pretext however.
Aourgen: Three months and no word. If they join the war, it is for your sake and if Bohemia wants to conquer you, they'll find a reason.
Amadeus: Very well. Consider the truce honoured. Savoian forces will see the field immediately.
Outside Ruaudeno, Near Maine.
The sun is setting, over the fields in the distance, but in a sparse wooded area, there are a number of armed men, 50 perhaps a handful more, some holding the banner of Jerusalem and Valois that was the symbol of Louis of Naples.
Two men scampered towards the encampment.
Thomaz: Jehan, move quickly.
Jehan: I'm trying Thomaz.
Guillaume: Ah, more soldiers. Good. The Bretons are sparse up here and if we organize well, we may break the blockade and hold until support comes from the south. At very least, we may hope to break the seige long enough to get our families elsewhere and man the towers ourselves.
Jehan: It seems like a gamble. They managed to organize well before we did. Can we hope for any serious victory here?
Guillaume: Hope is all we have to go on. Take your shield and blade and I will promise you that much.
Thomaz: Jehan, you know Lorette is in there. We have to do what we can to help.
Jehan: I underst- what was that?
The twang of bow strings suddenly sounded, with a single volley, many in the camp were wounded, others scattered. Breton soldiers ran through the forest, shields and spears high. The soldiers at the camp either moved quickly to run or stood outnumbered along side the wounded.
It ended quickly. The Bretons left wounded lay beside the dead as Thomaz took his last look at the sun and crossed himself with his good arm.
It was a matter of time.