Sasha

by Joel Shepherd

  The formation seemed to take forever to arrive. Men poured down from the last rise of the foothills, officers on horseback yelling and pointing grandly with their swords, directing each group to their position. Sasha simply held Peg to his place behind the vanguard before the bank of a stream that cut through the paddocks into the Yumynis. The ruins of a farmhouse lay nearby, its charred timbers wet with recent rain. The senseless destruction sickened her and awoke her fury. It must have been such a beautiful residence, by a stream near a wide river, nestled amid green pastures and flanked by mountains.

  Across the pastures behind, a great mass of men on horse now gathered. Sasha stared across their ranks in utter disbelief. Thousands of horses. They snorted, stamped, tossed heads and whinnied. Their lines were ragged, their size, colour and breeding uneven, and the men on their backs ranged from armoured cavalrymen to wild-haired, tattooed villagers to a smattering of clean-cut and shaven Verenthane townsmen. A rabble, Tyrun had rightly said. But a very angry, very determined rabble. A very large rabble. Sasha had never seen such mustered soldiery before in her life. The very ground seemed to sag beneath their accumulated weight.

  Tyrun came galloping along the front line, raising a cheer as he went. He peeled off and stopped at Sasha's side. “They know what they're doing,” he said, eyes squinted within his silver helm. “We've got them in teams of roughly ten, we try to keep the villages together where possible. This lot's yours…” pointing across the vast swathe of men directly before her, “the bunch behind them will be mine…” pointing over their heads to an even larger mass gathered there, “and Captain Akryd has that lot over there…” pointing furthest from the river, where at least two thousand horse were gathered in rough, shifting ranks.

  “Your Baerlyners are with Captain Akryd,” Tyrun continued, answering her unasked question. “I'm sorry they can't ride with you, but our organisation isn't quite that good, and contingents end up wherever they end up.”

  Sasha waved a hand. “That's okay. No favouritism.” And it was better, perhaps, that their fates were entirely out of her hands. It would stop her from being distracted. Teriyan. Jaegar. Andreyis. Fear clutched her heart at the thought of her young friend. “Dear spirits look after him,” she thought. “Help him remember what he was taught.”

  Some horses were grazing and some men had briefly dismounted to relieve themselves on the grass before the charge. Sasha herself had already done so, within the ruined farmhouse for privacy. The whole thing was surreal. Behind the great mass, Sasha could see some smaller ranks holding reluctantly back. Sofy would be there, with Jaryd at her side. Pray that they were not needed.

  “What's the count now?” she asked, trying to keep her voice level. Her heart was starting to race, like a startled horse that wished to rip clear of her chest and go galloping off across the fields.

  “Five thousand two hundred and change,” Tyrun replied. “There's more behind, scattered in groups all across the Shudyn Divide.” Even as he spoke, Sasha spied some latecomers pelting toward the rear, frantic not to miss the action. She could almost see their disappointment when an officer directed them toward the reserve. “We would be stronger every moment we wait, but the afternoon grows late already and the cloud will make the dark come sooner.”

  Sasha shook her head. “No waiting. As soon as you're ready.” Any longer and her own racing heart would kill her.

  “A gesture from the commander is customary,” said Tyrun, indicating the waiting ranks behind. Clearly he read the look on her face, for he shrugged, apologetically. “Not to do so could be considered a bad omen.”

  Sasha reined Peg about in frustration, dug in her heels and raced uphill to what she considered would be the centre of that vast front line. Then she stopped, pulled the sword from over her shoulder, stood in the stirrups and held it aloft.

  “LENAYIN!” she yelled. The answering roar gave her the worst goosebumps of her life, so loud it seemed it might blow her from the saddle. Thousands of blades speared the air and thousands of voices yelled, again and again. She turned and galloped back to her vanguard, still waving the blade. As she approached, Tyrun gave the signal and the whole front line began to move. The Battle of Ymoth was underway. Exactly which battle of Ymoth, whether the fifth, or the fifteenth, or the fiftieth, Sasha was far from certain.

  Peg splashed through the stream, Sasha holding him to a canter up the far bank as the front line reached the stream unevenly. The water dissolved in a frothing mass of hooves and Sasha spared a long look behind, seeing that Tyrun had pulled aside for her own formation to pass and headed now for the greater mass of horse still waiting behind. The last of her riders cleared the stream and she lifted Peg's speed to a gentle run. The way ahead lay relatively flat along the riverbank. Tall poplars lined the river and upon the river's far side were fields and fields of wheat and oats.

  The first fence was wooden and high, but Peg cleared it with ease. Sasha swung in her saddle to see the front line do the same, even the smallest dussieh having little difficulty. Her spirits lifted a little more—one more concern out of the way. Her vanguard spread out, still in front, clearing her view. Ymoth itself remained largely out of sight behind the one remaining ridge, blocking a view of those lower foothills where it cut across the riverside fields. She cleared another fence and saw the bridge emerging ahead, past intervening poplars. The ridge approached, and then Captain Akryd's left flank seemed to lift, accelerating to clear the rise and the fence that ran along it.

  The river curled gently to the right, and suddenly, there was Ymoth. There was indeed a wall—perhaps only half the height of the walls of Halleryn, but a stone wall all the same. Within, and rising as the foothills rose, she could see the town itself—a mass of thatched roofs clustered for protection behind that stone. Surprisingly, there seemed to be little damage. Ymoth had not been razed to the ground. Perhaps the Hadryn had proved less barbaric than she'd feared.

  The rear of the town rose considerably higher than its river-facing wall and dwellings seemed to blend into the tree-covered folds. Still Sasha could see no opposition. But the assault could be seen now and defenders would be preparing. Make them rush.

  She gave a yell, and a wave of her sword, and Peg accelerated to a full gallop. An answering yell came from a thousand throats behind and the thunder of hooves became an earth-shaking roar. Sasha cleared the next fence, a ruined farmhouse flashed by, and she purposely slowed Peg with several gentle tugs lest he outdistance the vanguard.

  She could see archers on the walls now, as Captain Akryd's flank began to divide from her own, headed for those nearside slopes and trees. Then she saw movement within the trees, an emerging line of archers, bows at the ready. Behind them, holding the flattest uphill ridges, were lines of infantry, the front ranks bristling with spears.

  She tore her vision away from that impending collision, for the bridge was approaching and the Ymoth wall opposite on the left. The left flank would be engaging now, but she could not hear a thing above the pounding roar. Archers upon the Ymoth wall stood, drew and fired…Sasha could not help but spare the flying shafts a sideways eye as they fell behind. If they hit anyone, she did not turn to see.

  She focused all her attention instead upon the left turn she had to make ahead, away from the river and up to Ymoth's far flank…not too tight, she urged herself, crouched low on Peg's heaving back. The entire formation would follow the line she set. Too tight, and they would stretch and scatter. Not tight enough, and they would still be turning when the reverse came, followed by confusion and collisions. The wall flew past on the left, the river poplars on the right, archers loosing soundless arrows from the parapets—everything was soundless but the charge…

  She switched the sword to her left hand and held it out, beginning the left sweep as the wall ended. About they curled, racing hard as the ground began to rise, thundering toward the ragged treeline where the horses would surely begin to slow against the steepening incline…And there they were, suddenly a cascade of ca
valry bursting from the trees ahead, plunging down the slope toward them. Banneryd cavalry, she could see the red and black banners, and the gleam of heavy mail, their yells now audible from the fore, testament alone to their number.

  Sasha waved her sword in a wide circle, swinging Peg wide to the right as the right flank swung and the rear also turned. She could feel Peg's surprise, fighting the rein, thinking the direction lay ahead…Sasha pulled tighter as the main body began to swing, the huge mass of mounted soldiers somehow managing to avoid collision as they circled and doubled back on themselves. There was some jostling, some bunching up, some riders spurring wider circles to clear the congestion…Sasha threw a glance back over her shoulder and saw the Banneryd cavalry descending upon them in a huge, triple-ranked line, bristling with swords as they hurtled downhill. This was going to be close.

  She found herself at the rear-left flank, riding hard amidst her vanguard and stragglers, closest to the river as her ragged formation fled before her. Clods of earth flew and pelted about like rain, the grass torn black by hooves. On the slope, Banneryd cavalry were cutting closer to the Ymoth wall, flying at great speed as their ranks divided, individual riders backing their horses to catch their fleeing quarry. Suddenly there was an armourless rider in her vision, dark grey hair flying, riding no hands with a huge bow drawn across his body, aiming back behind his right shoulder. Errollyn, and surely an impossible shot amidst the lurching confusion, the raining debris and the fact that she'd picked him for a right-hander, not a left…he fired, and a Banneryd rider fell with the shaft precisely through his unarmoured neck. If Sasha hadn't seen it with her own eyes, she'd never have believed it possible. Errollyn drew another arrow from his hip quiver, balanced the bow upon his horse's neck as they cleared another fence, straightened, drew, and fired all in one motion. Another Banneryd rider fell, clutching his neck.

  The front Banneryd riders were closing on several straggling dussieh, yelling furiously, swords brandished in eager anticipation. So intent were they that they did not pause to ponder why their quarry, which had approached in such a wide formation, now allowed themselves to stretch in a narrow line close to the river. Nor did they look at the archers on the walls, no longer shooting but waving frantically, gesturing to something ahead that they could see, but their riders could not. Those closest to the wall did see, their view ahead clear. Perhaps they yelled warning, but in the roar of the charge, little could be heard.

  Captain Tyrun's main formation tore past Sasha's retreating feint with a howling battle cry, a massed blur of horses and flashing swords by Sasha's right, smashed into the unsuspecting Banneryd pursuit. Behind them, Sasha's formation was now wheeling, doubling back for a second time. Some of those Banneryd in closest pursuit broke off immediately to help their brethren. Others continued, intent on the kill…Sasha wove to the right, trying to catch one on the blindside, only for Errollyn to shoot him off his horse. A rider with steel-blue hair beheaded another in passing, and then there were horses on all sides crisscrossing, weaving and reversing madly.

  Sasha barely missed colliding with one of her own, spurred Peg fast around one falling, rolling horse and saw a Banneryd rider cut two of her men from their saddles in quick succession. Another came thundering at her and she spurred Peg onto his backhand, thinking to duck and cut low…an arrow buzzed from nowhere and upended that man too from his horse. There was confusion, beasts and men rolling underfoot, screams and yells, whinnies and clashing steel. Ahead, a Banneryd rider fought a Goeren-yai saddle-to-saddle…the northerner parried and slashed with superior skill, spurring his horse at a vital moment and killing the Goeren-yai with a reverse cut.

  And lost his head a moment later as the blue-haired rider reappeared, then reined around to gesture madly at Sasha. “This way!” the serrin named Tassi yelled. It seemed as good a direction as any, so Sasha followed as Tassi plunged ahead, weaving between battling riders…and there suddenly was tall Terel, intervening in one contest to cut another Banneryd from his saddle. Sasha slashed at another in passing, but was parried, and galloped on regardless.

  Abruptly, she was clear, following Terel and Tassi across an open paddock near the river. They leaped a fence, Sasha looking about to find Errollyn directly behind (how long had he been there?), three of her vanguard riders close behind him, and here now on the left was little blonde Aisha, a bloody blade in her hand, watching that great, sprawling mass of men and horses for possible threats. Four Banneryd riders came tearing directly at them, angling across in front to intercept Tassi's lead. Tassi pointed her sword at them, as a galloping rider might casually indicate a troublesome rock to her trailing comrades.

  Errollyn shot the leader, the other three swerving about him as he came off, bounced, then dragged with a foot in the stirrups. Aisha then dashed toward them in a burst of speed, as Terel turned more sharply from the lead. One of the three was already separated from his comrades, and now conceded Terel's superior angle, reining wider…and directly into Aisha's path, slashing as she cut past behind, the Banneryd clutching a half severed arm. The other two raced at Tassi. Errollyn shot one through the side and Tassi cut behind the other, galloping up on his far side, then swerving away when he tried to backhand at her head. Both cleared the next fence, and the surviving Banneryd tried to close once more on Tassi…and did not see little Aisha now racing up on his blind side, until it cost him his head. Sasha passed the Banneryd with the wounded arm as he tried to pull aside, but her vanguard were not so merciful, and killed him in passing.

  They cleared another fence and then cut between a riverside farmhouse and the riverbank poplars, leaves whipping at Sasha's face. Upon the left, what remained of the Banneryd main force was falling back, spurring madly up the slope down which they'd charged. Archers fired sporadically from the walls, fearing to hit their own men. Others were breaking clear of the fight—great, untouched ranks of men, galloping wide for space in which to pursue the fleeing northerners, and Sasha's heart soared to see so many unscathed. Her plan trap had worked.

  Tassi slowed a little to let Sasha catch up, and they curved away from the river toward the slope. Peg was tiring now, his black flanks frothing white with sweat, but at full gallop he still closed the gap to Tassi's horse in little time. One of Sasha's vanguard still had his royal banner flying and Sasha turned to wave him forward. Already, others of her men were seeing, pointing and then yelling to companions, urging them to follow.

  “We must stay close on their heels!” Errollyn yelled as he came alongside. “It will hinder their archers if our lead arrives amidst their stragglers!”

  Some racing riders gained on the fleeing Banneryd, and hacked them from the saddle. A group of northerners peeled away, spurring desperately for the rocky treeline and some safety…Errollyn calmly shot one from his saddle and reloaded with the air of a man picking off straw targets. The victim's comrades wheeled about in panic to see such accuracy…Errollyn shot another with a thud that fairly catapulted the man from his saddle, and the remaining pair were slashed and hacked by six racing Goeren-yai as they pelted past. Sasha could not resist sparing Errollyn an incredulous look. He hadn't missed yet…or not that she'd seen. Perhaps he couldn't.

  The incline culminated in an uneven line of pines. Within those pines, beyond the racing horses ahead, Sasha could see a row of sharpened stakes driven into the ground—a typical defence against cavalry. Archers were firing through those stakes as the first men of the column arrived…some fell, others reined about in panic, but fire was sporadic as Banneryd and rebel horsemen mixed, the retreating with the advancing. Dussieh riders spurred their little mounts straight for the rifts in the treeline where water runoff made a rocky cleft and the line of spikes faltered. Further to the right flank, Sasha saw a line of such horsemen racing for the stream there, splashing through shallow water to run upon the rocky stream bed, where surely no great warhorse could hold his footing.

  A tangled mass of horses reeled amidst trees and spikes—Banneryd cavalry now trapped agains
t their own defences and fighting for their lives, rebel cavalry seeking a way through, others dismounting to hack at the wooden stakes and make a path while dodging the thrusts of Banneryd infantry spears from the other side. In several places, Sasha saw defences had been left open for the Banneryd cavalry to retreat, and those now dissolved into a mass of fighting, hacking men and thrashing horses, as massed infantry tried to prevent any breakthrough whilst admitting their own through the gap.

  She, the serrin and her three men of the vanguard wove past milling, circling horsemen, dodging past the first trees and wincing at the occasional hiss of arrowfire. Past the row of stakes, Sasha caught glimpses of dussieh riders now behind the lines, wheeling and hacking at infantry, who broke formation to face the new threat at their rear…the defenders had not bet on the agility of little dussieh while planning their defences. More were streaming up a narrow rift ahead, an incredible sight, as long-haired Goeren-yai spurred their wiry little animals across rocks, steep sides and tangled undergrowth.

  Sasha pointed with her sword, and saw Errollyn nod. They wheeled downslope for a run-up as the two stakes nearest the rift came down…other horsemen were already spurring toward it, yelling as they went, as those waiting jostled for position to make their own charge. Sasha yelled for them to make way, and men did so, looking around in startlement as they realised who it was. Sasha dug in her heels and sent Peg racing, the serrin close behind. She saw infantry on her left fighting madly to close the gap, more rebels circling back to stop them, a dussieh going down screaming under spear and sword thrust…

  Peg hurtled up the slope and rushed over the broken defensive stumps, Sasha then turned him left amidst the trees in a wide circle, realising immediately that the best way to defend the breach was to outflank the men trying to close it and cut them to pieces. From this side of the stakes, she could see the mass of infantry building against perhaps thirty of her horsemen, who wheeled and circled, swinging furiously as the foot soldiers tried to overwhelm them, bringing down several. She accelerated to top speed, weaving narrowly past the sides of trees…an arrow felled one infantryman in front, the others scattering as the massive black warhorse crashed through. Sasha slashed from side to side, more in hope of creating confusion than clean kills, reining Peg about before the stakes, lashing and kicking. Then the serrin were in amongst it, all save Errollyn, who held back and felled any infantryman who threatened a blindside swing at his comrades.