The following day near noon, the sivaks and elves came into sight of each other nearly a thousand feet above the ground. The armies advanced to meet on the bank of the Vingaard River, near the rapid channel called, simply, the Narrows. (That channel would give its name to the battle that occurred here.) The airborne skirmish was quickly reinforced by dragons on both sides, and by midafternoon the forces on the ground had formed parallel lines of battle.
Finally Laurana found the chance to unleash her horsemounted knights, and the lancers of Solamnia added much glory to their names on this bloody afternoon. The Knights of the Rose led the charge, supported quickly by those of the Sword — and here, Excellency, we learn the name of the captain called so quaintly by Mellison "Sir Rose." He is Bendford Caerscion, and he led this thunderous advance from the saddle of his night-black charger. His report to Gunthar gives us a first-hand and thorough account of this pivotal melee.
"Eagerly the knights answered the call to attack — trumpets brayed and our restless steeds exploded into a gallop. Pounding hooves reverberated through the ground as the line of armored knights and horses gained unstoppable momentum. My heart swelled with pride — the moment culminated a lifetime of training and devotion. A heavy lance, well-couched at my right side, extended far past my war-horse's snorting head.
"The plain before me seethed with draconians. I saw their snapping jaws, heard them hissing in hatred and fear, as we knights stampeded closer. The reptilian horrors bore swords and shields. The few with spears lacked the wits to brace them to meet the charge. As our thunderous formation neared the draconians, several companies of baaz turned and fled — crashing into a rank of brutal sivaks who tried to whip them back to the fight.
"But it was too late. My knights ripped into the ragged line of draconians with scarcely a falter in their momentum. My lance pierced the body of a huge sivak, pinning the creature to the ground. I released my lance and drew my sword. The monster remained stuck on the lance, its wings flapping, feet kicking, like some monstrous insect pinned to a display board.
"The knights' charge smashed draconian after draconian to the ground, crushing their limbs with pounding hooves, for we were rumbling forward at a fast canter. I slashed this way and that with my blade, aiming for the heads of the monsters and leaving a dozen badly injured in my wake.
"Then we broke through, leaving the shattered remnants of the draconian force to scatter in panicked flight. I hauled back on my reins as soon as the enemy broke from the fight, but my horse — and most of the others — were so excited that they continued the frenzied race for nearly a mile.
"Our two companies of knights numbered less than three hundred in total, but the stampeding momentum of our charge split the draconian line in two. We whirled back and rode against a small contingent of hobgoblins mounted on great wolves. This rabble, too, was quickly scattered or destroyed.
"A shadow flashed over me as this melee ended in the enemy's rout. I felt a chill wind strike me and then, to my horror, I saw a trio of brave knights — riding in close formation — buried beneath the full weight of a diving white dragon. The monster bore men and horses to earth, and dispatched the riders with crushing blows of its great claws and rending teeth.
"Then the serpent's jaws gaped and it belched forth a swirling cloud of numbingly cold frost, slaying several more horses and riders in an instant. I urged my charger toward the monster, but the steady horse refused to go near — and then the dragon turned its attention to me. I prepared myself to die in that moment — but a new shadow flicked past, and in the next instant a huge silver dragon flashed overhead. Its rider — a golden-haired elf — thrust a heavy dragonlance through the white's wing, and then the great silver broke the wyrm's neck with a single bite.
"With a salute of thanks, I recognized Gilthanas — and then we two parted and rode on, seeking the scattered troops of the beleaguered enemy."
All this time the Golden General kept the Knights of the Crown — most numerous of the knightly orders — in reserve. Sir Patrick and Sir Markham no doubt chafed at this delay. It is perhaps well for the sensitivities of this historian that I find no exact record of their remarks, as they were forced to sit idle and watch the orders of the Sword and Rose acquit themselves with glory.
Meanwhile, the men of Palanthas met the charge of baaz draconians with pike and shield, while companies of irregular sword-and-buckler men harassed the flanks of the White Wing. In the sky, the battle raged fierce and costly for both sides. The powerful good dragons eventually slew the last of the whites and their riders, but not before nearly two dozen of them perished — including two silvers and a gold.
Then, as sunset began to cast its shadows across the field, Laurana sent in the Knights of the Crown — five hundred armored riders on eager steeds, charging with their lances, in a thunderous rush that swept the battered remnants of the White Wing from the field. By nightfall, the evil forces were in full retreat, though Laurana ordered a pursuit that continued into the following day. Only when she was convinced that the enemy troops were beyond reassembling did she order her army again to concentrate, turning about to resume the advance toward Dargaard and Kalaman.
From here, Excellency, I depart to follow in the path of that great march. My eventual destination is that great seaport — though on the way, I shall, of course, stop to examine the scene of Laurana's greatest triumph.
It is for this purpose, therefore, that tomorrow I embark for Margaard Ford.
Until that time I endeavor in the service of history,
Foryth Teel
To the Great Astinus, Lorekeeper of Krynn,
I return to the Vingaard River again, Excellency, as did Laurana's army. It becomes increasingly clear to me how the Golden General employed this great flow of water as the keystone of her campaign — using it to screen her movements, defend her force, and — by crossing unexpectedly — surprise her enemy.
After the Battle of the Narrows, Laurana resumed her northeastward push, but misgivings clearly began to grow among the knights. Palanthas and the High Clerist's tower lay too far behind them, now, and the forces of the Dark Lady were known to be mustering at Dargaard.
The losses from this battle — the first pitched fight since the High Clerist's Tower — had been high. We can only guess at the heartache the Golden General must have felt. Did each fallen knight remind her of her dear friend — the stalwart Brightblade? Elves had fallen, and Laurana well knew that each of those deaths had cut short many centuries of life. And the human foot soldiers who had rallied to her cause — surely their loss, too, was as bitter a waste to the elf woman.
Mellison's diary tells us that Laurana retired early to her tent for the nights following that battle, foregoing the camaraderie that had begun to grow between the captains and their general. For three days the army marched steadily, but not frantically. Laurana made certain that the troops and dragons had opportunities to rest, that the horses could graze on the newly sprouted grass beginning to carpet the plain. Spring storms to the east shrouded the Dargaard Mountains, but the skies over the army remained clear.
Finally, on the fourth day after the Battle of the Narrows, the scouting dragons reported back. The Red Wing was on the march, and had been discovered to the southeast, advancing steadily toward Dargaard. Heavy rains accompanied by thick clouds and fog continued to mask the mountains for much of this time, and shortly after the marching column was sighted, it disappeared into the foothills. The Red Wing might as well have vanished, screened as it was by the weather against further observation.