by Brian Murray
The next day started with a crisp dawn, and thick dew covered the green hills with a shiny film. It was the morning of the battle, and the omens for the Rhaurns appeared good. The Divine One had given them a clear, cloudless sky.
In the sewage system under the southern gate, the Chosen, Dax, Thade, Tanas, and Gammel remained huddled in the stench. All they could do was to wait until they received the signal to move. They watched in awe as the thousands upon thousands of Kharnack warriors marched from their camp to the battlefield. All the Kharnack warriors wore war paint and carried their various weapons; long and short swords, double and single headed axes, maces, spears, and shields made of baked leather, bearing their various clan symbols and colours. The horsemen rode on simple leather saddles buckled onto their mountain ponies. These riders were armed with swords, axes, and spears but very few of them carried shields. Dax was amazed at the number of different clans known to hate each other, now marching together to the field of battle.
***
General Brooks, General Gordonia, and King Zane prepared the Rhaurien army to march. The bridge over the defensive ditch surrounding the camp was secured in place and the army filed out.
First over the bridge rode the Royal Lancers. They wore their distinctive royal blue coats split up the back and decorative silver helm with blue plume, but had removed their blue cloaks. The Lancers carried with them a curved cavalry sword, a crossbow, and a small shield. In battle dress, they also had metal guards covering the outside of their legs, which joined at the waist.
Next over the bridge came the light cavalry. They were very similar to the Royal Lancers except that they wore green knee length coats split up the back, and a plain helm with no plume. However, like the Lancers, they were also armed with a curved cavalry sword, a crossbow, and a small, round buckler. These horsemen were usually stationed outside Teldor, and were just as good riders as the Royal Lancers. The Royal Lancers were handpicked from the much larger light cavalry ranks.
Stomping over the bridge next came the awesome heavy cavalry. These men were the army’s battering ram, used to punch holes in the enemy’s lines. The horsemen and their beasts were fully armoured in unpolished grey metal. The armour on the horses covered their head, front, and flanks. Each rider paid for an additional decoration on the horse’s head shield for individuality; some had horns, a single one protruding out the front, or two jutting out the sides of the horse’s head guards. Others had demonic faces embossed onto their horse’s head guard. These men would put the fear of Hell into any warrior when lined up, and especially when charging with their lances levelled, thundering towards the enemy. In addition to their metal-tipped lances, the men also carried cavalry swords for close-quarter fighting after the initial charge.
The cavalry was followed by the foot soldiers. First across came the infantry with their long, rectangular shields and short stabbing swords. They were dressed in simple, rounded metal helms padded on the inside with wool, and metal body armour. They wore calf-length boots with reinforced ankles and carried several long daggers in their sword belts. These men would interlock their shields and form massive, slow marching fighting squares that would advance majestically into the enemy lines. With enemies like the Kharnacks who charged at their enemy in a haphazard manner, these organised squares could withstand attacks from apparent overwhelming numbers, killing the enemy with stabbing swords.
Next over the bridge marched the legendary, fearless axe-wielders. They were seasoned veterans and powerfully built to wield their weapons of death. Each man carried a double-headed battle-axe with wicked quarter-moon shaped blades. The axe’s metal shafts were hollowed to reduce weight and the grips made of bound leather, individually wrapped to suit the warrior’s particular grip. Below the hilt extended a quarter arm-length spike, used for stabbing the enemy. Each wore a helm of brushed metal with a white fur rim and protruding down the front, a metal nose guard. The helm also had metal cheek guards that protected the leather straps and the axe-wielders’ symbol embossed on their forehead – two axes crossed at the shaft. These men wore metal body armour with course chain mail running down their arms and legs, and leather leggings tucked into their ankle boots. They did the army’s cleaning and could proudly boast being unbeaten in combat against any force of equal size.
Finally, over the bridge marched the archers, carrying their longbows and quivers containing fifty arrows, with spikes on the bottom for stabbing into the ground. They also carried a crossbow, quivers holding iron bolts, a short sword, and dagger for close quarter fighting, should the need arise. They wore baked leather helms and leather body armour that did not restrict their firing movement.
With the healers and stretcher-bearers bringing up the rear, the Rhaurien army entered the battlefield to meet the Kharnacks.
Behind the archers, Zane rode alongside Generals Brooks and Gordonia and a company of Royal Lancers. All except Gordonia wore full battle dress. Brooks had fiercely argued with Zane, telling him he should not fight in this battle. Zane was about to order the general to let him fight alongside the Royal Lancers, but the wily old warrior remained steadfast.
“I have lost one king already without conflict. I do not intent to lose you before your official coronation. This time, young Zane, you will do as you are told.”
The standoff between the two men lasted until Zane broke the silence with his distinctive smile. “You’re right, General, I will remain with you.” The general had returned the smile and now they advanced to a hilltop, overlooking the battlefield so he could see the fighting and issue orders.
The Rhaurien army arrived to face the Kharnacks. The Rhaurns picked the perfect position, as the ground sloped slightly away from them.
The fifty thousand Kharnacks waiting formed a crescent shape, bowing away from the Rhaurns, with their horsemen at the edges, their backs to Kal-Pharina. The clansmen started chanting and jeering as the Rhaurien army took up its position. Banging weapons against their shields, they tried to psyche out their enemy. In the front, at the centre of the Kharnacks, two clansmen held a huge black banner.
The Rhaurien army lined up, at the front the heavy cavalry, at their flanks the Royal Lancers and light cavalry. Behind them, the infantry formed fighting squares, locking shields ready to march. The axe-wielders formed a long line behind the infantry while the archers prepared themselves at the rear, stabbing their quivers into the ground. The Rhaurien army waited.
***
From his balcony, Tucci overlooked the distant battlefield. He smiled when he realised that the Kharnacks heavily outnumbered the Rhaurien army. He wanted his guests to see the battle, but they remained detained elsewhere with instructions not to be disturbed. Tucci sucked a black crystal when the Kharnacks, in unison, raised their weapons and roared at the tops of their voices. Suddenly, they charged.
Tucci felt a twinge of joy, but his emotions slowly dampened; he could not see his father.
***
Both of the generals watched impassively as the Kharnacks roared, then charged at the Rhaurns. This battle would be all about timing.
The Rhaurns were outnumbered and did not know if reserves waited for them in the city of Kal-Pharina. The generals knew that the Darklord’s black-armoured horsemen should be somewhere close by, but they were not on the battlefield. The two men concluded the horsemen must be in the city, waiting.
***
General Brooks peered down at the charging Kharnacks from his northern hilltop and smiled as adrenaline pumped through his veins.
Turning to Gordonia, he said, “You can always trust the Kharnacks to be predictable.” He sighed. “We might as well let our men join the party.”
“They might be predictable, but watch their cavalry, they can cause some mischief.”
Brooks’s smile broadened. “And that, my friend, is the challenge.”
Gordonia said nothing, as he looked at the blood-frenzied clansmen charging, then at the patiently waiting Rhaurien army.
Brooks turned
to his flag messenger and calmly said, “Cavalries please.”
The messenger lowered the flags for the heavy and light cavalries, and the Royal Lancers.
Down on the battlefield, the Rhaurien horsemen heeled their mounts into a gallop. Instantly, a deafening rumble of charging horses smothered the Kharnacks’ war cries. Behind the horses, flicked up grass, dust, and clumps of earth flew into the faces of the waiting infantry. As Rhaurn tradition dictated, the infantry took one step forward and smacked their swords against their shields, yelling at the top of their voices. In the past this had spurred the horses forward faster, but now it was purely a military custom.
The Royal Lancers and light cavalry initially trotted to give the heavily burdened cavalry a head start, then they, too, urged their horses into a gallop. At fifty paces from the enemy, the heavy cavalry levelled their lances and their polished tapered points flashed in the morning sun. With their tools of carnage brought to bear, the men picked out their first victims. At twenty paces, they tucked their lances under their arms and braced themselves for impact. At ten paces, they braced their lower backs against the high saddlebacks, designed to keep the riders on their horse during impact.
They clashed.
On the battlefield, the heavy cavalry ripped through the Kharnacks’ front lines. Clansmen were lifted off the ground as the horsemen buried their lances into their enemies’ bodies. Men were brushed aside as the wave of armoured horses tore through the ranks, replacing battle cries. Screams from the injured and dying ripped through the air. The battle began with immense bloodshed.
The heavy cavalry carved a swathe through the centre of the Kharnacks, then wheeled their mounts left and right to attack the running men from the sides.
The carnage continued.
***
The heavy cavalry ripped into the Kharnack foot soldiers while the light cavalry and the Royal Lancers formed charging wedges and clashed with the Kharnack horsemen. They penetrated deep into the lines, but the charge faltered when beast bashed against beast. Swiftly it became a standing horseback fight.
From the sides, towards the rear of the Kharnacks, the heavy cavalry smashed in, pushing the enemy together. Both men and beasts fell as the armoured horsemen attacked.
***
From their hilltop vantage point, the generals had a clear view of the battlefield, now littered with Kharnack corpses. General Brooks turned to his messenger and ordered, “Infantry and axe-wielders, please.”
The messenger dropped the respective flags for the infantry and axe-wielders. Majestically, with a catlike prowess, the foot soldiers started their slow march. In front of them, the Kharnacks continued to charge. Again, Brooks turned to his messenger and ordered, “Archers.” The messenger dropped the archer’s flag.
Within a heartbeat, the sky filled with steel-tipped rain of death.
***
On the battlefield, volley after volley of the deadly rain tore into the Kharnacks. Desperately they held aloft their small shields, but the arrows struck, piercing arms, legs, any exposed flesh. Clansmen dying and maimed from the rain of death caused the Kharnack charge to falter slightly. The clansmen frantically tried to avoid the arrows, but many tripped over fallen countrymen. Then, no sooner had the rain started, it ended. The Kharnacks howled like angry, wounded animals, then relentlessly they charged on.
The Rhaurn infantry bore down on the Kharnacks. At the centre of the battlefield the killing got very personal, men could look their enemy in the eyes, smell their breath, even taste their fear.
Locking shields, the infantry prepared themselves for the tidal wave of bodies to hit them. They did not have to wait long. The first Kharnacks slammed against the shields only to be stabbed. The first fighting square of two hundred men held, but another buckled under the pressure. The Rhaurns tried to change formation, but failed. The slaughter was bloody and fierce.
The Kharnacks swarmed over the broken fighting square, butchering all. From behind the fighting squares came a tremendous roar and the axe-wielders charged into the game. The fighting squares pushed further and further in among the clansmen. Some squares collapsed and left a wake of trodden red soil, weapons, and broken bodies with lifeless eyes either staring up at the morning sun or at the reddened earth.
The axe-wielders went to the defence of the broken fighting squares. Within moments they too were covered in blood as they chopped, hacked, and sliced. The infantry and axe-wielders cut down the Kharnack footmen with ease. The foot fight favoured the Rhaurns; they used their advantage and pushed on.
***
The Rhaurns’ southern cavalry charge worked perfectly, with the riders easily killing the Kharnack horsemen. On the northern side of the Kharnack lines, the Royal Lancer captain had been cut down, and the charge began to falter. The heavy cavalry pushed and killed at the rear. At the front of the battle, the fight began to turn in favour of the Kharnack horsemen.
Zane saw what was happening, and could remain still no longer. The timing was wrong, but he had to do something.
“Lancers to me!” he called. The new young king, in full royal armour, charged down the hill. The Lancer captain looked at his general, who cursed loudly.
“Defend your king. GO!” he screamed. The company of Royal Lancers gave chase, and galloped downhill to form a charge wedge behind King Zane.
Zane had been observing Dax and following suit, he dropped his horse’s reins on to its neck and drew both of his new short swords.
***
From the sewage tunnel, Dax could just make out Zane as he charged down the hill to help his men. He felt immense pride when he saw the young king drop the reins onto the horse’s neck and draw both his swords.
Turning to face the Chosen, he said, “Now that’s a king.”
“I see he has been watching you, my friend,” added Gammel, nodding.
“Aye, there’s that.”
“Well, there’s our sign. He has joined the fray, we should better get moving,” said the Chosen, and in the darkness the others nodded. The group crawled through tunnels of slime, making their way to the gatehouse. They emerged a few minutes later through a drain near the southern gate. Drawing their weapons, the men sneaked up to the guarded door, unnoticed.
The Chosen stopped Dax and whispered, “I will not kill my own countrymen without first giving them a chance.”
Dax looked the Chosen in the eye and nodded.
Removing his dirty outer clothes, the Chosen stepped out into the centre of the street in black leather leggings, matching boots and sword belt.
The Phadrine guards turned and faced the emperor and their jaws dropped in surprise. Before the Chosen could say a word, all the men fell to one knee and bowed low. The head guard rose, took a step towards the Chosen, and placed a clenched fist across his chest.
“Your Greatness, I prayed you lived and my prayers have been answered. How may we serve you, Sire?”
“I need the bridge extended to let my friends across.”
“Extend the bridge!” ordered the head guard, without hesitation.
The Chosen turned and smiled at Dax. “My people love and want me, as I love them.”
“I never doubted that, your Highness,” said Dax formally, now in the presence of the Chosen’s people.
The Chosen stepped forward onto the bridge, waiting for it to move. “Now it is time to give my son a sign.”
The Chosen stood still with his back to the city. As the bridge reached halfway, he turned slowly towards the city and drew his sword, the one given to him by Platos. Pointing it at the upper balcony in the palace, he roared one word. “TUCCI!”
Waiting for the Chosen, three thousand Dar-Phadrin clansmen appeared, coming out of the brush and across the moat. The Chosen held his pose until the bridge was fully extended, then calmly marched into his city. Sheathing his sword, Rowet strolled steadily forward, his head held high and a confident swagger in his gait. Behind him Dax, Thade, Tanas, and Gammel had their weapons drawn, as they watched
three thousand warriors from the Steppes file across the bridge.
***
With Zane at point, the fighting wedge slammed into the Kharnacks. Horse thumped against horse, shields clattered against shields, swords clanged against swords – and blood flowed. Though the fighting was ferocious, the young king’s Lancers turned the tide and pushed the Kharnacks back.
A gap in the Kharnack’s ranks briefly opened up allowing Zane to enter. But just as quickly, it closed, swallowing Zane, who became separated from his men.
“Lancers, to the king!” came the call, and the Royal Lancers fought like men possessed to reach their young sovereign. Zane kept cutting and stabbing all who stood in front of him. The Royal Lancers soon surrounded the king, and slowly pushed the Kharnacks back. Several Kharnacks, sensing defeat beckoning, made a break for it. The light cavalry gave chase.
After what seemed an eternity, the only men remaining on horseback were the Rhaurns. Bloodied, with adrenaline surging through his blood, Zane raised one of his crimson-covered swords. The men around him roared with delight: their king lived! They had won. In that moment, Zane fully earned the respect of his army. The story of his single-handed charge would spread through the army ranks like wild fire.
However, the battle was far from over and the fighting continued – vicious, brutal, and bloody.
“Rhaurns with me!” yelled Zane, as he charged to the centre of the battlefield.
The other horsemen followed.
***
General Brooks looked down on the fighting. The fighting squares were stationary and the sheer number of Kharnack clansmen managed to push back the axe-wielders. Brooks prepared to order the archers forward, when Gordonia nudged him. Brooks felt his pride surge when he saw Zane rally the Rhaurn horsemen and charge across the battlefield.
In a single motion, Zane dismounted from his horse and began to fight with his two short swords. Without hesitation, the Royal Lancer and light cavalry followed their king into the melee. This act turned the fighting, and the Kharnacks were now being attacked from all sides.
Zane again found himself alone, surrounded by crazed Kharnacks. Cutting high, he killed one Kharnack clansman by slashing his throat. Stabbing low, he caught another in the groin. Slicing backhanded with his right hand, he cut a man across the chest and with his left hand, slashed through the dying clansman’s throat, killing him instantly.
