“I need both of your horses,” Stiger said and pointed to two men who were holding the reins of their mounts. He looked back and called, “Beck. Grab a horse, man.”
“A horse, sir?” Beck hustled over.
“You can ride, can’t you?” Stiger asked. “I seem to remember you can. Am I mistaken?”
“Yes, sir…ah no, sir,” Beck said. “I can ride.”
“Well, then, grab a horse and bring the Eagle,” Stiger said.
“We’re going for a ride, sir?” Beck asked, blinking. “Now?”
“We’re gonna give the men something to fight for.”
“Yes, sir,” Beck said.
“Sir.” Ruga had followed him over and was clearly alarmed by what Stiger was intending. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing?”
“I don’t mind you asking,” Stiger said. “I am going for a short ride.”
“But, sir,” Ruga protested and then looked to the messengers, clearly thinking to requisition a horse for himself.
Lightning flashed across the sky.
“Don’t worry. I am not putting myself in any danger,” Stiger said, before Ruga could request a horse of his own. “We’re going to put on a show for the men. Remain here. I will be back soon enough. That is an order, Centurion.”
“Yes, sir,” Ruga said, sounding none too happy.
Eli walked up. “Don’t do anything stupid, will you?”
“And here,” Stiger said, “I thought you knew me.”
“I do,” Eli said and stepped back as Stiger grabbed the reins of the horse from the messenger and pulled himself up onto its back. He took a moment to get comfortable in the saddle. With the cold rain, he was completely soaked through. Complete comfort under the current conditions was simply unattainable. Everyone was miserable.
Beck handed the Eagle to the messenger and took the reins. With less ease than Stiger, he mounted up. When he was settled in the saddle, he took the Eagle in one hand, while holding the reins of his horse in the other.
“All set, sir,” Beck said.
The rain had begun to come down harder. Stiger rode his horse over to Salt, with Beck following. “I am going to give the men some backbone.”
“Yes, sir,” Salt said, though his expression appeared worried.
Stiger led Beck forward and through the ranks. The men stepped aside for them and then they had to pick their way through the field of dead, dying, and wounded, until they were out before the assembled legion.
The sky flashed again, lighting up the clouds, which had crowded tightly together. Thunder rumbled a few moments later. Stiger had considered a speech, but then disregarded the idea. It was raining too hard to be heard very far. Instead, he began riding down the line, with Beck following. Stiger pulled Rarokan out from its scabbard and held the sword up into the air for the men to see. The sword burst into blue fire that, despite the downpour, could not be extinguished.
All the while, the enemy’s drums continued to beat, seeming to make the air throb with their cadence. He kicked the horse into a gallop and glanced back to make sure Beck was following. The men of the nearest cohort let out a hearty cheer. The cheer was quickly picked up by every cohort. The cheering became so loud and exuberant that it drowned out the drums.
Stiger felt a fierce pride in his men. They had marched for weeks, endured terrible discomfort and hardship just to get here, and they were assembled to fight a battle under the worst of conditions. They were the best soldiers in the world. By the gods, he loved them.
He rode to the end of the line and then back, clear over to the other end. Stiger turned his horse around and rode slowly back along the line to his original position and there he brought his horse to a stop. He faced the enemy and waved his sword in the air for show. The men continued to cheer themselves hoarse and he allowed them to do it.
Throughout it all, the enemy had not moved.
Over the cheering, Stiger could no longer hear the drums. He considered making another ride for good measure. Then, one of the wyrms stood and shook itself, unfurling its wings. The dragon craned its neck and let out a piercing screech that silenced the cheering of his men.
A terrible silence settled across the field. Even the enemy’s drums had stopped.
The other wyrms began standing and unfurling their wings. The first leapt into the air. One by one, the others followed. The beating of their wings against the air could be heard clearly across the field. It sounded more ominous and menacing than the drums ever could. The dragons began circling higher and higher as they climbed up toward the clouds. Another dragon gave an ear-piercing screech.
Stiger shivered at the awesome display of power. He recalled the dragon he’d personally killed and the terrible fear that it had instilled within him. Before he’d brought it down, the beast had exacted a dreadful toll on his legionaries.
With nervousness, Stiger’s horse danced sideways. He tightened his hold on the reins as more of the dragons began to screech and roar. It was a hideous sound, and with it, the horse became more unsettled, almost to the point of panic. Rather than risk being thrown, Stiger sheathed his sword and slid out of the saddle. Beck did the same, but his horse panicked as his feet touched the ground and ripped the reins free. The horse galloped out into the open, running between the two armies. Stiger released the reins of his horse. Freed, it too galloped off, bucking wildly as it did.
The dragons circled over the enemy’s army. Stiger understood they were gaining height from which to dive down and attack the legion. It was only a matter of moments before that happened. He glanced back at the legion and hoped the gnomes were ready. But what could stand against such might? Surely not a handful of their bolt throwers.
There was a new sound, a deep, malevolent roar that made the cries from the wyrms pale by comparison. Two large dragons, clearly not wyrms, emerged from the clouds above. One was green and the other a fiery red. Their wings were tucked back against their sides as they dove for the ground with terrific speed. At the last moment, both unfurled their wings and flapped hard, slowing their speed. Legs extended, both touched down in the middle of the field between the two armies. The ground shook as they landed.
It happened so quick that, had they attacked, there would’ve been no time to react.
Two figures in black cloaks were riding upon the backs of the dragons. Stiger had not noticed them before and was astonished to realize each dragon had a saddle. Both figures climbed quickly to the ground and then, without hesitation, the two dragons took to the air once again, leaping upward into the sky.
Stiger looked over at the enemy’s wyrms. Where a moment before they had been steadily circling and gaining altitude, now they were frantically beating at the air, angling toward the clouds. Incredibly, they appeared to be fleeing.
There was another angry roar that put every other dragon cry before it to shame. It was so loud that Stiger clapped both hands to the sides of his helmet. An even larger dragon, black in color, emerged above them from the clouds. Stiger almost grinned at the sight.
It was Sian Tane.
A second dragon, just as large, followed right behind. It was Currose. Both of the noctalum were diving on the wyrms, who became almost frantic in their effort to escape, wheeling and twisting about, like pigeons fleeing a falcon.
A bolt of what looked like lightning flashed and shot forth from Sian Tane. It struck one of the wyrms square on the back. There was a sickening sizzling sound. The wyrm cried out in agony, then went limp. The creature fell from the sky and crashed into the ground behind the enemy’s line. The impact threw up a great spray of dirt and mud into the air. The ground once again shook violently from the impact.
Four more dragons came into view, diving through the clouds after the wyrms. These were colored brilliantly in red, green, blue, and yellow. Suddenly, it seemed, between the wyrms and the newcomers, there were dragons everywhere in the sky, screaming, roaring, or crying out in pain. Flame shot across the sky, as did lightning bolts.
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Almost as quickly as it had begun, the wyrms were gone, lost from view. Some seeking escape had climbed up into the clouds. Others dove for the ground and flew away as fast as they could. Both noctalum followed after those that had fled upward and into the clouds.
The red and green dragons that had landed were in pursuit of a wyrm that had flown off into the distance. In heartbeats, they too were gone. The rest of the dragons flew back up into the rain clouds.
The clouds flashed from lightning and then from orange flame. There was a crack, a terrible screech of pain, followed by an abrupt silence. A lifeless wyrm, twisting in a lazy spiral, emerged from the clouds as it fell from the sky. Several heartbeats later, it crashed down with a sickening thud amongst the enemy’s cavalry. Dozens of their horse soldiers were crushed. Even more were thrown into the air, both animals and their riders, from the violence of the impact.
There was a shocked moment of silence that followed. Screams from the wounded could be heard across the field. Then, there were more flashes in the clouds, along with thunderclaps, cracks, and bangs. Almost every eye on the field turned their gazes skyward again. It continued for a few moments, before silence once again returned.
The legion gave out a mighty cheer. It was one filled with intense relief.
Stiger blew out a relieved breath himself. Menos and Currose had come through. Now, he only had to contend with the enemy’s army, and they likely had been shocked to their core by what had just happened.
He turned his attention to the two figures who had dismounted from the dragons. They were striding confidently toward him. Though they walked on two legs and had two arms, their gait was a strange sort of loping walk that was most definitely not human. Both wore chest armor that was painted a jet black. It matched their cloaks, which trailed slightly on the ground behind them. Mail shirts under the armor dropped down to just above their knees.
They did not have shields, but both carried long swords that were strapped to their backs. There was a certain menace about them and how they moved that concerned Stiger. It was almost predatory. But it was their faces that got his attention, for they were not human…but tiger-like. They were, for lack of a better word, tiger men.
“Are you Stiger?” one of the tiger men asked, baring his long canines. It came out almost as part growl, with an animalistic feel to the tone. Stiger struggled not to take a step back as they towered over him. They were over eight feet tall and their arms and legs rippled with muscles covered with orange fur.
“I am,” Stiger said, surprised they spoke Common.
“I am Lord Jeskix and this is Lord Arol. Menos sends his compliments.”
“You are of the Vass?” Stiger asked.
“We are Knights of the Vass, human,” Arol said in a disdainful tone, “and we come to fight at your side, Champion of the High Father.”
The word Champion was said with a hint of distaste.
“Then you are most welcome,” Stiger said, “for we will surely have a fight this day.”
“That is what we live for,” Jeskix said, with a glance toward the enemy army, “and why we’ve come.” Jeskix looked back to Stiger. “There are just two of us now, but in the coming weeks, our soldiers will arrive. They are marching up from the South, and it is a good long way.”
“How many?” Stiger asked.
“Enough,” Jeskix said, and turned to look at the enemy across the field. “So, human, how do you plan on dealing with them?”
There was a challenge in the question.
Stiger tore his gaze from the Vass and returned his attention to the enemy. He studied them for a long moment. They seemed shaken up by what had happened. The neat ranks of the army were gone. His eyes snapped back to the cavalry, which was in great disarray because of the dragon having crashed in their midst.
There was an opportunity here, and he suspected it would not come again if he did not act quickly.
“Follow me.” Stiger left the Vass and started jogging to where he’d left Salt. As he did, he glanced back. Like everyone else on the battlefield, Beck was standing there in near shock. “Come on, Beck. Move your ass, man.”
The Eagle-bearer snapped out of his stunned disbelief at what he’d just witnessed and hustled to catch up. The rain had finally let up, returning to a miserable drizzle. Stiger jogged through the wounded and dead, then pushed his way through the ranks of Second Cohort. Everyone else seemed just as stunned and awed by what had happened. There was a sense of disbelief in the air.
“Salt,” Stiger said as he came up. He turned and pointed at the enemy. “I want Hux and the cavalry to swing around to the enemy’s right flank. Their cavalry has been devastated by what just happened. What’s left is seriously shook up. If Hux moves quickly, he might be able to smash their cavalry and tear into the infantry on the enemy’s right, rolling them up.”
Salt blinked and turned his gaze to the legion’s cavalry wing.
“Are you listening to me?” Stiger demanded.
“Yes, sir,” Salt said and then pointed, “only I don’t think we need to order Hux forward.”
Stiger turned and saw his cavalry wing, organized into a long line, was already in motion. Hux, on his own initiative, had started his horse soldiers across the field. Lances held high, the legion’s cavalry was moving at a slow trot, increasing by the moment, working their way steadily up to a full charge. He could hear the beginnings of the thunder from their hooves. Stiger turned his gaze to the enemy’s cavalry. They seemed terribly disorganized. Many had dismounted and were busy helping injured comrades. They were oblivious to what was about to descend upon them.
“Right,” Stiger said, but then noticed that Salt was distracted. He was staring at the Vass, as was everyone else, including Eli and Therik. The two knights had followed him and appeared far from impressed by all that they saw.
Dog growled deeply.
“Dog,” Stiger snapped. “Stop that.”
Dog ceased his growling but moved nearer Stiger and kept his gaze fixed on the Vass. The Vass, for their part, were now staring at the animal with what seemed intense interest.
Stiger gripped Salt’s arm and shook his camp prefect slightly. “Salt, this is Lord Jeskix and Lord Arol of the Vass. These are the friends Menos mentioned. But right now, we need to focus on the job at hand, and that is breaking the enemy army.”
“Yes, sir,” Salt said, “sorry, sir.”
“The legion will move forward to attack,” Stiger said, turning to point at the enemy. “If you do not follow at any point, speak up.”
“Of course, sir,” Salt said, having regained his composure.
“We are going to aim for the right side of their line.” Stiger pointed to the left side of the enemy’s position. “Their right, not ours. As we move across the field, I want to shift the legion to the left, so that we aim our midpoint directly at the enemy’s right flank. At that point there, where the dragon came down.”
“You don’t want to move the legion straight at the enemy?” Therik asked. “They seem rather disorganized. A straightforward approach may be all that’s needed.”
“No,” Stiger said, feeling that was the wrong path to take. “Hux is moving for the right flank and the enemy’s cavalry. We will exploit any success Hux has in causing a panic there on the right.” Stiger pointed. “That’s where we are going to put our pressure. When we arrive and drive forward, we should have three, maybe four cohorts uncovered on our extreme left flank. There should be no enemy before them. I want them to swing around like a door and hit the enemy from the side. At that point, our line will become L-shaped. If we act fast enough, we might just create a general panic.”
“What of the right flank, sir?” Salt asked. “What’s to stop the enemy from doing the same to us, flanking around to our side?”
“Nothing,” Stiger said, “but our enemy is disorganized. If we don’t press them, that won’t last long. I am certain they are in shock over losing their dragons. Perhaps, with their wyrms, they didn�
��t even think they would have a real fight today.” Stiger paused and sucked in a breath as he thought on how to address Salt’s concern. “To counter such an effort, as the line moves forward, we will swing the reserve, First Cohort and the Eighty-Fifth, to our right flank. They can extend the line on our right, while we see what success we can have with their left. Understand?”
“I do,” Salt said, “and I like it.”
“Then we need to get the legion moving,” Stiger said, “before the enemy recovers.”
“Yes, sir,” Salt said. He turned, calling out, “Messengers. On me.”
“Orc, elf, human, naverum, and noctalum all working together,” Jeskix said to Arol. “Istros is a very strange world.”
“And you haven’t even met the rest of our allies,” Eli said. “We have gnomes and dwarves too.”
TWENTY-FOUR
By the time the enemy cavalry realized what was happening, Hux’s charge was almost upon them. Men on foot, who had been unhorsed or had dismounted to help their comrades, ran for their lives. Others, who had the presence of mind, grabbed the reins of their horses, mounted back up, and desperately attempted to gallop away to safety. Those who understood flight to be a futile effort and were caught directly in the path of the charging cavalry wing drew their weapons and bravely faced the charge, with the clear intent to sell their lives dearly.
As the distance closed to the last few yards, lances were lowered into the attack position, and with a tremendous crash, the wall of horses and men slammed into the enemy. The charge had been brought home with exceptional skill and determination. The wing’s momentum carried them clear through the confused mass of what had once been the confederacy’s cavalry. It only slowed up when the wing was more than thirty yards beyond the enemy’s line.
In its wake, Hux had left utter destruction and carnage. Horses and bodies littered the ground behind them. Very few were left standing, and those that were appeared thoroughly dazed, shocked by what had just occurred. Stiger knew all cavalrymen lived for moments like this one, striking at and riding down a disorganized enemy.
The Tiger’s Wrath (Chronicles of An Imperial Legionary Officer Book 5) Page 40
