Lord Kaiman of Symes felt a bit scared; he sensed that he had overplayed his hand this time.
A well-trained force was advancing from Dublin towards Symes, while High King Rodri had assembled an unprecedentedly large army that was rolling in like a tidal wave. Upon witnessing the might of both sides, Kaiman admitted to himself that he was afraid.
Initially, he had intended to play both sides against each other, but he soon realized that the only real contenders for the overlordship of Ireland were these two.
The armies of both sides arrived in Symes almost on the same day, setting up camps to the east and west of the city. The sprawling camps covering the sky and earth shattered the confidence of the guards on the city walls. Their daily concern became which side would strike first.
No one dared to bet that Lord Kaiman could hold out, and Kaiman himself shared their doubts.
As for John, he wasn't worried at all.
Even though Rodri's army was vast, John knew that their logistics and supplies were nowhere near as well-managed as his own. Behind John stood Silvio, a professional purchasing officer, along with a group of professional Italian merchants at his service. On Rodri's side, they didn't even have decent supplies.
As long as the stalemate continued, John was sure to win.
If High King Rodri wasn't a fool, he would certainly find a way to resolve this issue. However, John had a feeling that Rodri didn't seem to have any such plans; John even thought that Rodri wasn't very smart.
As time was being slowly worn away, John felt he needed to find something to do.
He called for Guillaume and Little Roches, planning to take people out for a hunt. But as the group was preparing to set off, they noticed some commotion in the camp.
"What's going on?" John rode over to the commotion, only to see a few auxiliary infantrymen with head injuries, while the surrounding people were donning their equipment.
"Your Highness, a group of Irish attacked us at our water source," the wounded auxiliary infantrymen said, covering their wounds. "We are now calling people to fight back."
John asked, "Do they have more people?"
"More than us, Your Highness," the soldiers replied. "A lot more, otherwise, we wouldn't have been beaten."
Guillaume frowned in thought, but John didn't say much, just waved his hand: "Then go. We can't afford to lose our momentum."
Watching the soldiers leave, Guillaume asked curiously, "Your Highness, just let them go like that?"
"Let them go. Let's wait for their results," John said, completely disrupting today's hunting plans.
After a long wait, as John's group was becoming drowsy, the infantrymen who had gone out returned, once again with head injuries.
"They called for reinforcements too!"
???
The royal guards instantly perked up, scrambling to their feet. The surrounding soldiers also gathered around, and it was clear that fewer people had returned than had gone out.
"How the hell can we stand this?" one soldier yelled, starting to put on his armor.
John was a bit stunned; he hadn't grasped the situation yet. His soldiers had just gone out to fetch some water, and now things had escalated to this?
"It wasn't just a few people; they almost brought everyone over, a lot of people!" The shout from one of the returning infantrymen reached John's ears, instantly putting him on alert.
Rodri couldn't sit still; he chose to use this opportunity to launch an attack.
"Gather all the soldiers, quickly," John ordered Guillaume and Little Roches at a rapid pace. The two didn't hesitate for a moment and swiftly relayed John's command.
The entire army began to transmit the orders at an incredible speed, and almost everyone sprang into action.
After a brief moment of chaos, John's army formed a complete battle array at the camp gate.
And so, the whole army stood in the cold winter wind, waiting for a long time without any sign of Rodri's troops. John was so cold that his nose was running, and the other soldiers must have been even colder.
"Damn it, what is Rodri doing, damn it," John muttered, sniffing hard. "Why hasn't he come yet?"
Beside him, Little Roches speculated, "Could it be that he has already withdrawn?"
Withdrawn, withdrawn...
The words echoed in John's mind, making his head feel like it was about to explode. If Rodri had simply withdrawn, wouldn't that make John look very foolish?
John couldn't accept such an outcome. He glanced back at his army.
The image of those auxiliary infantrymen returning with head injuries was still fresh in his mind, as was the roaring of the soldiers and knights. If they retreated now, wouldn't the soldiers feel utterly frustrated?
This battle could be lost today, but it absolutely couldn't end in such frustration.
"All troops, advance!" John roared, "Target: High King Rodri!"
The thunderous command was relayed throughout the army by the messengers, and banner after banner moved slowly across the vast wilderness, following the army's formation.
From a god's eye view, one would see Rodri's army at the riverside, collecting their spoils.
Though the spoils were not plentiful, the greedy warriors were quarreling over the distribution. The Irish, naturally brave and combative, refused to back down, leading to a standoff that kept them at the water's edge.
Rodri was busy trying to mediate, though his efforts were not particularly effective.
As a result, this large army was becoming increasingly disorganized and on the verge of collapse.
At that moment, John's army appeared.
The sight of this massive force instantly put Rodri on high alert. While he might not be the sharpest, he realized that in the current state, there was no way he could resist John's army.
He looked around and saw that his trusted aides and his elite troops were still with him.
"Everyone, come here, come here!" Rodri called, gathering his personal guards around him.
...
On John's side, the Norman knights led the way, followed by a large number of squire cavalry, and then the soldiers and infantry.
These soldiers were filled with anger, and upon seeing the Irish by the riverbank, they charged immediately.
The Norman knights, without waiting for John's order, formed a cavalry wall and charged.
The Irish at the riverbank, still embroiled in their dispute, quickly realized that the Normans were charging directly at them. They began to shout, looking frantically for their High King.
But soon, they noticed something was wrong.
Where was the High King?