Warriors of the Heynai

by M J Webb

  King Artrex was a veteran of many campaigns and he knew what he had to do. He lifted his right arm so that all could see it and thousands of eyes fell upon him. He lowered it half way and swept it slowly across his body from left to right. Immediately upon the sight of the well practised, silent command, every one of his horse soldiers dismounted their passenger and rode swiftly to the head of the column. When they reached the front, they spread out along the entire length of the valley, in a highly impressive manoeuvre which had clearly been executed many times before. As soon as the last of the mounted warriors was in place, the King turned to Queen Bressial.

  “Here I must leave you. I want you and Castrad to command the footsoldiers, and the remainder of my army.”

  Bressial smiled and nodded her reply. The pain and sorrow she felt was written on her face. She understood completely what was being said.

  “Thank you. We will attack the centre of their line at once. I will try to draw as many of their warriors into the fight as I can. You must take advantage of any gaps in their formations that follow. You have to get our people through to the city! I am depending on you both. I know you will not fail me. Now, I…”

  “But sire! Forgive me my King, but what you propose is nothing short of suicide!” interrupted a highly charged Lord Castrad. “You know for certain that they will surround you as soon as you meet their line. They will collapse the sides of their formation and you will be encircled. You will have no avenue for retreat. There has to be another way?”

  “Yes Castrad, I know it,” replied the King, in a soft and calm voice. “I am depending on it. I was hoping to see less of the enemy barring our way. Truth be told, I was hoping that my daughter would be here to greet us, with an entire army behind her. But, I suppose that was never going to be, was it? Oh, I hope and pray that she is alive and well. Regardless of whatever happens here today, she is the future and all my people’s hopes will lie with her. Kah! We cannot think of anything else now, we must deal with what we know. We have only one option; to attack. If we remain here, even for a moment longer, my cursed brother will destroy us. We will be caught between two armies and slaughtered. He will show no mercy, Castrad. If I send in my footsoldiers, without cavalry support, the enemy will not commit enough of their warriors to battle, to give us a hope of breaking through their lines. I have to try to induce fear into their hearts, create panic amongst their ranks. I have to make them believe that we are really going to smash through and reach Dassilliak! If they see my mounted knights charging at their lines, with their King leading from the front, they will react to it, I am sure. And let us face facts, it is I they prize above all others, it is me they want to capture, or kill.”

  Castrad’s eyes lowered as he had to reluctantly acknowledge the argument put before him. He could see the logic being employed, but still he decided to speak.

  “Brave King, if this is what is written, what has to be, then let me fight by your side?” he stated proudly, glancing towards Bressial for her approval. The Queen nodded to him with a tear in her eye, giving her cousin permission to go even though it was breaking her heart, and she feared that she would never see him again.

  “It would be my very great honour to fight and die at your side, noble Lord. Here ye all!” the King cried, shouting at the watching ranks of cavalry. “The Kingdoms of Nadjan and Rhuaddan have never been so closely allied. We have fought many wars against each other in years gone by. But, from this day forward I swear to you all, we shall always be brothers! I command you all now to put aside whatever differences you may have, for they matter not! Not anymore. Look around you at the knights who stand by your side. When you remember this day in years to come, and I promise you shall, give pride of place to those who stand ready to shed blood with you on this day. Honour their memory if they fall, and if they live. Remember that they were not all your kin, your countrymen. They came from different lands and far away to answer our call. When we were in need of them, they came to fight, for you! For Estia!”

  A resounding cheer swept through the rebel ranks as Artrex rode his horse up and down the line. Then, he stopped his stallion next to that of Lord Castrad. He turned it to face the enemy, raised his right arm and waved them forward.

  For several minutes they continued to ride in extended line, several ranks deep, closing the gap between them and the enemy gradually, with the King holding the charge until the last possible moment. He wanted to give his tired and weary horses the shortest distance to cover and the best chance he could of achieving the impossible, and fighting their way through the enemy lines.

  Lord Castrad was completely calm now. Like the King he had fought many battles and he had already accepted whatever fate had in store for him, realising that the chances of surviving this charge were very slim. Now, when they were half way towards the enemy lines and as they trotted towards their destiny, he spoke.

  “You know sire, I cannot help but wonder what has happened to the Keeper? Where is he? He is undertaking the most important of tasks I know, but surely he will not abandon us now? Not like this? He should be with us, should he not? Does it not seem strange to you?”

  “Krmmn… Yes. I have to admit that I have had similar thoughts. I too have asked myself that question, but the day is not yet done, Castrad. He may still surprise us, there is time, though it is rapidly running out. I believe that nothing is for certain as yet, anything is still possible.”

  He drew his sword and raised it high in the air. “We are all at the mercy of the spirits now, my friend,” he shouted, as he lowered his weapon to begin the charge and kicked his horse hard.

  ***

  In the Southern Army lines, just as King Artrex’ soldiers were forming up to advance along the entire width of the valley ahead of them, thousands of warriors were hastily making their last minute preparations, sharpening their pikes and spears and digging them into the ground as they made ready to receive cavalry. They held them firmly in position, angled at just the right point of elevation so that they might impale any horse and rider foolish enough to continue their charge.

  The noise grew to a crescendo as the enemy approached. It became a thunderous roar as they broke into a gallop to charge at full speed and it was added to by the sounds of dozens of battlehorns being blown by the rebels, accompanied by the shouts and cries of thousands of warriors.

  Then, all of a sudden, the horsesoldiers on both sides of the rebel attack changed direction. They wheeled around perfectly to collapse the sides of their charge and joined behind their leader to form one, massive, impregnable wedge of horses and men. The tip of a Ruddite battering ram!

  It was the relatively small contingent of Thargws, as per usual positioned right in the centre of the line, who now took the full force of the astonishingly swift rebel charge. Horses and men smashed into them with a speed and ferocity that had never been witnessed before on an Estian battlefield. The Thargws seemed almost to disappear amid a sea of rebels to their amazed and frustrated comrades on the periphery of the battle, away from the centre. On both flanks, the Southern Army warriors were horrified at the spectacle unfolding before their very eyes. The suddenly very real possibility of the rebel King actually succeeding in breaking their lines had them enraged, and the thought of his escape into the great city was unthinkable, far too disastrous to even contemplate!

  First, the Sevitrians on the left flank lost their discipline and broke ranks. Without orders of any kind they began to run to the centre of the battlefield, in an attempt to engage the rebels. They were quickly followed by the Retians on the right who witnessed the action of the Sevitrians and were not about to stand idly by whilst their comrades stole all of the glory. These two forces joined in the middle of the valley and effectively surrounded the rebels cutting off all hope of retreat, just as King Artrex had hoped.

  In the Southern Army line, Lord Obreth had spotted this unplanned and unsanctioned manoeuvre and he immediately attempted to halt it, knowing that it might prove disastrous to the outcome
of the battle and allow elements of the rebel force to escape. But, he was in the centre amongst the Thargws and within minutes he was far too busy fighting for his own life to give effective orders. His shouts and cries became lost amid the noise of battle.

  This was Queen Bressial’s chance! She immediately ordered all of her weary contingent to charge for the gap that had been created on the right flank of the valley at full speed. It was the closest point to the city of Dassilliak. Thousands of rebels began running and driving their carts and wagons as fast as they possibly could, trying to break through before the warriors of the Southern Army realised what was happening and were able to stop them.

  Meanwhile, in the centre, things were not going well for Artrex and his besieged cavalry. The mighty Thargws had recovered quickly from the shock of the rebel’s initial attack and they were now fighting back with great ferocity and skill. Artrex had lost the momentum created by the initial charge and subsequent dent in the Thargw line. He and Castrad were now locked with their soldiers in a static fight against the fearsome warriors, the one thing the rebel horsesoldiers feared above all else, where their advantages of speed and manoeuvrability were nullified, and where their enemy excelled.

  Rebel after rebel was pulled from his horse and mercilessly hacked to death. The situation was becoming increasingly dire and it was about to get even worse, as the advancing Pralons and Hybraddan rushed to join in the fight. King Artrex swung his sword frantically from side to side, swiping furiously from his horse at the enemy warriors who were by now all around him. Lord Castrad was trying his utmost to stay close to the King in a valiant attempt to shield him somehow and keep him alive, the Nadjan noble displaying an awesome ability with his sword and managing to kill or seriously wound several of the Thargws who attacked him.

  In a fleeting moment of respite, Artrex looked anxiously over his shoulder to see rank after rank of Sevitrians and Retians closing in to complete the encirclement, and he realised for certain that their situation was hopeless.

  “Castrad!” he shouted out, as he continued to swing his sword at the hoards of enemy around him. “Bressial, where is she? Can you see her?”

  Though surrounded himself and fighting desperately for his life, Lord Castrad managed to turn swiftly and survey the battlefield, searching frantically for his Queen. He spotted her on a small rise at the edge of the valley, at the head of the remainder of the Rebel Army.

  “There sire! To the right. They are just short of the forest at the approach to the city. They are almost through!” he screamed happily, trying to make himself heard over the noise of battle as he lunged to finish off yet another of the enemy. Artrex smiled thankfully at hearing the news he was so desperate to hear. It seemed to invigorate him. He doubled his efforts and fought even harder.

  Castrad had managed to force his way through to him by now and the two warriors were standing back to back as they battled ferociously to keep the surrounding enemy at bay. Artrex could see that he and the valiant warriors of the Rebel Army who had conducted the desperate charge were surely doomed. There was no chance for them of escape and it was only a matter of time until they were all killed. But at least the Queen and her followers had almost reached safety and it looked as though his plan had worked.

  “Good!” he shouted through gritted teeth. “If Bressial has succeeded in getting through, then our deaths shall not have been in vain.”

  Chapter 20

  24th August – The Battle of Dassilliak – Part 2

  Sawdon’s whole body suddenly began tingling with an all too familiar sensation. His ears pricked up and his nostrils flared. He stopped his horse and lifted his head up to the sky, sniffing the air in a violent and aggressive manner which suggested he was not pleased at receiving some unwelcome news. His arm shot up swiftly giving the order for the massed hoards of warriors marching on Dassilliak to stop their advance. He roared at them to maintain strict silence. The thunderous noise of the march ceased immediately and all of a sudden the air was completely still. Everyone looked expectantly at their Thargw commander, uncertain as to why he was acting in such a strange and aggressive manner, and why he had halted their progress.

  King Vantrax had stopped his horse also. He could hear nothing save the leaves rustling on the nearby trees. Frustrated, dismayed and angered by the unplanned delay to their march, the evil King rapidly became impatient to get moving again. He glared furiously at his most trusted warrior.

  “Nerrast! Why have we stopped, Sawdon? Explain yourself!” he demanded.

  Sawdon was still gazing at the southern sky and sniffing at the air. He turned his head slowly to answer his King, a deep, throaty growl of intense disappointment seeping through his array of clenched teeth and fangs.

  “Gggrrrrr... Do you not hear it, sire? I hear it, I smell it. It is some distance away but there is no doubt, a battle has begun, we are too late!”

  King Vantrax’ eyes widened with shock and surprise. This was news he had definitely not expected to hear. He had not anticipated being so far behind the rebels and he had privately believed that they would easily catch the fleeing army before they reached his forces in the south, before they neared the great city.

  “Yaargghh!!! I am cursed, I must be. Someone, or something, is conspiring against me. Every time I am close to ending this fight, I am thwarted! Raart! Well, if the battle has started, we must make haste, we must hurry. We have to reach the field of battle before my brother breaks through to the city, to stop them from hiding behind that wall. Let us hope that Obreth and his army have managed to halt them. Well? What are you waiting for? You are the Gerada here Sawdon, give your orders!”

  The mighty Thargw acknowledged the command and summoned to him the leader of the Dzorag. In the blink of an eye, Zaknar came riding furiously along the stretched out columns and halted his horse before them. He bowed his head to the King and then stared at Sawdon, barely managing to hide his intense dislike of his commander.

  “You summoned me? What is your command?” he snarled.

  “Zaknar, you finally have your wish,” stated Sawdon. ‘Take your Dzorag and ride with all speed to the city. If you hurry and if your hunters are all they say they are, you will find a battle in progress.”

  The Dzorag leader’s eyes lit up immediately at hearing Sawdon’s words. He smiled broadly at being given the chance to prove to his King that he was wrong in not committing his cavalry to battle at Erriard Forest. The fact that his warriors were denied the chance to fight at Erriard still hurt him deeply, he was determined to prove their worth and redeem their reputation in the eyes of their allies. This fight would give him the chance to do both of these things.

  “...You are to engage the enemy without delay,” added the Thargw. “King Artrex has to be stopped. He must be killed! The young Keeper must be killed also if you have the opportunity, for anything may happen where he is concerned and his continued survival is a threat to us all. The box of stones has to be retrieved. In fact, Zaknar, kill them all. Leave none alive to tell the tale, the more of them we kill now, the fewer the number of potential enemies in the future.”

  Zaknar gave a yelp of delight. His orders were clear and he could not wait to begin the chase. He rode swiftly away from the column so that all his warriors were able to see him clearly. Then he clenched his fist and raised his right arm, before lowering it and raising it twice in rapid succession, giving the Dzorag signal for his countrymen to converge on him as quickly as they could. Thousands of galloping horses and riders obeyed the command without hesitation. As soon as they were all with him, Zaknar turned his horse around without saying a word and lashed his reigns against it. The magnificent beast bolted immediately and Zaknar galloped away in the direction of the battle, followed by the entire contingent of Dzorag hunters. Sawdon desperately wanted to join them and he looked hopefully at his King.

  “No Sawdon, you are not going this time,” stated Vantrax emphatically, anticipating correctly the question that was on the tip of the Thargw’s
tongue. “You will remain at the head of this army. You will ensure that they march faster than they have ever marched before. A battle takes a long time to win, some drag on for many days. My wretched brother has many in his force who do not know what it is to fight, what it takes and what it means. He also has many who cannot fight. Obreth has a good defensive position to hold, he need take no risks. He may be able to stop the rebels on his own, but the Dzorag will reach him soon enough and I am sure he can use their help. They will meet a tired and wearisome force, if it has not been destroyed by the time they arrive. And, if Obreth’s defences hold, if we arrive in time to join the battle, then this vast army of raised spirits should be more than sufficient to achieve the final victory we seek.”

  ***

  On the field of battle, Artrex and Lord Castrad had been joined by a small group of valiant rebels who had managed to fight their way through to their King. Their strength was fading, almost all had dismounted to fight or had been dragged from their horses. They were absolutely exhausted and many were now carrying wounds of some description. The massed ranks of enemy warriors were closing in relentlessly to finish them off. Rebel after rebel was falling beneath their swords. Their situation was completely hopeless. It was only a matter of time now before they were overrun. Surrender was no longer an option, not that it had been considered before, for they knew from their experience at Erriard forest that King Vantrax warriors would take no prisoners. All that remained for them to do now was to fight and die. And to try to give Queen Bressial and the rest of the rebels as long as possible to reach the city wall.