The near end of the line, anchored by a large lasher armed with a spiked ball suspended on a thick chain, began about a hundred yards out from the trees clustered at the base of the bluff that defined the end of the ridge to Aram’s left. From there the line extended across the plain southward for nearly a half-mile. Six lashers stood behind the lines, one about every two hundred yards.
Back to the west, to Aram’s right, a mile or so behind the line, the wagons of provisions pulled into blocks of six or eight and stopped. Just in front of them was the wagon bearing the tall dark cone, topped with shining metal, guarded by its cadre of heavily armored men.
After the pikemen were on line, prodded by snarling lashers, a second, smaller group of men began forming a line to their rear. These men were armed with bows and bore quivers of long arrows. They were the archers that Joktan had mentioned as being key to the timing of Aram’s attack and they were forming quickly. Even as he watched, there was a roar from the lasher at the center of their line and they moved forward.
Aram realized suddenly that there would be no preamble to the battle. Manon’s army meant to assault Derosa at once. If he did not get into the battle now, the opportunity suggested by Joktan would be lost.
He slid rapidly back from the crest of the rise and ran as fast as his armor would allow back to the horses. The three of them stood rigidly, their large black eyes unblinking, and watched him come.
“We must go immediately,” he gasped, and he pulled himself up onto Thaniel’s back. He felt the great horse quiver beneath him. “We must attack now or we will miss our chance.”
“Then go.” Said Florm.
Thaniel blew a great blast from his nostrils and bolted from the copse, down across the stream to the grassy bank on the far side and out through the trees toward the plain. Aram slammed his visor down and drew his sword, holding it downward alongside the surging flanks of the armored horse.
As Thaniel crashed through the stand of trees, the spikes on his armor tore at their trunks and ripped off branches, but Aram could hear nothing but the wind whistling through the ear holes of his helmet and, far away, the pounding of the horse’s great hooves.
Then they broke into the open and came out onto the field under the noonday sun.
The archers were within two steps of the main line and moving forward. The lasher with the spiked ball had moved southward along the line and there were about fifty men between him and the northern end when Thaniel thundered from the trees and charged the enemy.
The minute that it took for Thaniel to close the distance to the enemy’s line seemed to Aram to lengthen and stretch beyond the bounds of reality. Time slowed almost to a stop. Through the slit in his visor, he saw the grim, gray faces of Manon’s soldiers turn toward him and their mouths open to release shouts that he could not hear. Turning in response to the tumult, the lasher roared in fury and came loping northward just behind the line of archers. The archers stumbled through the line to the front as the pikemen began to wheel toward this new and unexpected threat, their lances twisting and lowering.
At the end, just before the great horse crashed into the line, Aram saw the eyes of the soldiers widen, and in the flat, black depths, there was fear and awe.
Then, with a horrific explosion of sound, Thaniel smashed into the flank of the army. Men screamed as the deadly spikes in Thaniel’s armor severed limbs and wrought terrible injuries. And Aram went to work with his sword.
The Guardians of the Call of Kelven awoke to action. Light erupted to either side and any lance that threatened Aram was struck down and its bearer reduced to death. When a small number of archers managed to group up beyond the line and aim their missiles his way, the arrows were deflected by unseen blades.
In the meantime, Aram dealt death with his sword as his mount plunged forward. As they penetrated deeper into the line, the cohesion of the pikemen was lost and the line snarled into a confused tangle of wounded, dead and frightened men. As the bodies began to pile up and men tried to flee only to trip themselves and their fellows, Thaniel’s forward progress was in danger of being halted.
And the lasher approached.
As he slashed and parried and thrust with his sword, Aram saw him come and realized that to face this enemy, they must get clear of the clot of soldiers.
“Thaniel, go right!” he shouted above the din, even though he knew the horse heard him with his mind. “Move right. We must face the lasher on open ground.”
Thaniel wheeled and stumbled free of the mass of confused, frightened and dying men. The lasher was a scant thirty feet away and was swinging his spiked steel ball in a vicious circle above his head.
“Charge him.” Aram told Thaniel and this time it was a silent command. “Jump to the right at the last second and wheel in a circle just out of range of his weapon. Make him miss and then get me close.”
With a powerful lunge of his back legs, Thaniel rushed at the lasher. The lasher stopped and planted his feet wide apart, his mouth open in a roar, showing his long, pointed teeth. Both of his clawed hands were on the chain of his weapon and his muscles rippled beneath his armor as the spiked ball cut deadly circles through the air. His eyes were slits of malevolent black.
At the last moment, Thaniel lunged to the right and Aram leaned away from the trajectory of the lasher’s weapon, but one of the steel-tipped spikes caught him a glancing blow on his upper arm. Though his armor prevented the spike from piercing his flesh, pain exploded through his shoulder. With the explosion of pain, though, there also came a surge of fury.
“Wheel, Thaniel, wheel,” he shouted.
Digging into the soft soil of the plain with his massive hooves, Thaniel turned sharply, spun around and charged forward, just to the left of the lasher.
The lasher had made two errors. First, he’d aimed his spiked ball at the rider instead of the mount, so that the trajectory of his weapon had caused it to circle in a high arc and bury itself in the soil behind him, losing all its momentum. Then, instead of dropping it and drawing his sword, he attempted to lift the ball and swing it again.
Before he could do this, Thaniel was upon him, driving his great shoulders against the lasher’s body. Losing his grip on the chain of his weapon, the lasher roared and tried to dig the claws of his right hand through the armor and into the muscles of the horse’s chest. With the other, he attempted to pull Aram from his mount. But Aram was ready.
Though the lasher was very tall, Aram, sitting on the back of the taller Thaniel, and standing high in the stirrups, had the advantage. Grasping his sword with both hands, Aram drove the steel blade straight down into the lasher’s open mouth, feeling it stop abruptly as it encountered bone somewhere deep in the cavity behind the creature’s teeth.
Howling with pain and rage, the lasher clamped his teeth down on the steel and grabbed at the offending blade with one hand while he pulled at Aram with the other. Aram strained to keep the pressure on. He could feel the immense strength of the lasher as he struggled against them. Even through the steel of Aram’s armor the enormous claws threatened injury.
“Forward,” he screamed at Thaniel, “forward.”
The horse leaned his full weight into the struggle. Then, suddenly, there was a dull ‘pop’ and Aram felt something snap deep inside the lasher’s head as the blade slipped inward a little further. A torrent of putrid, black liquid erupted from the depths of the lasher’s maw. The beast’s great hands slackened their grip, the slatted eyes opened wide and the flat blackness of their depths went even flatter. The lasher crumpled.
With tremendous effort, Aram pulled his sword out from between the teeth of the beast as it fell and then Thaniel lunged away. They’d made their first kill. Looking around, Aram took stock of the situation on the battlefield.
Near him, the ordered line of pikemen had devolved into clumped groups of frightened and uncertain men who’d just seen their commander destroyed by this terrifying figure on a black and deadly beast. Even more terrifyingly mysterious, when
any found the courage to attack, their spears were inexplicably shattered and mysterious explosions of light killed the attackers.
Beyond the line, the archers were also in confusion. The arrows that they loosed toward the black rider were reduced to ash. It seemed as if the man on the horse was protected by lightning. And now there was no one to command them. Fear began to make its awful presence known.
To the rear of the army, Aram saw two lashers running away from him toward the mysterious cone, a half-mile or so away. He didn’t want to abandon the fight at the front just yet and give up the advantage by crossing open ground. Turning and looking over the top of Thaniel’s head along the line, he spotted his next two opponents. Several hundred yards away, one lasher was trying to turn his men to face the threat posed by Aram and Thaniel, but closer, loping directly toward them behind the line of pikemen, was another.
“Do you see him?” Aram asked Thaniel.
“Yes.” The horse answered.
“Go.”
Thaniel heaved forward and thundered toward this new enemy. The lasher was armed with a large, flat-bladed sword and he held it out to the side as he sprinted resolutely toward them. About a hundred yards of open ground separated them. Aram slid his sword into its scabbard, pulled his bow over his head, and nocked an arrow.
Standing in the stirrups, he let the arrow fly. It was a clean shot, but the lasher dodged, swung his sword round with surprising speed and flicked the missile away. Aram shot again, but again the result was the same. The lasher avoided a third arrow and the gap was rapidly closing.
“Aram.” Thaniel’s voice was anxious.
“I know.” Aram answered. “I’ll get him. Keep straight on.”
He had to find a way to get an arrow through the lasher’s defenses, if not, they would have to either sheer off or get into close combat. Aram didn’t want to consider either option. Veering away would lessen their momentum and perhaps ease the fear they had instilled already in the body of Manon’s army.
And he didn’t like the thought of dealing with this lasher and his huge sword at close quarters. The problem was that his quivers were tied to the saddle behind him and bringing the arrows up into play was slow and awkward. There was only one thing to try.
Retrieving two arrows from the quiver to his right, Aram held one vertically in his bow hand while he nocked the other, took aim and released. Not waiting to see the result of this shot, he quickly released the second, sending it right after the first. The first arrow was knocked aside like the others but the second sank into the breastplate of the lasher’s leather armor.
Roaring in fury at the sudden, sharp pain, the lasher didn’t even break stride but grasped the offending arrow with his left hand, broke it off, and tossed it away. But Aram already had two more arrows screaming toward him across the diminishing distance.
The first of this second assault broke against the flat blade of the lasher’s upraised broad sword, but the second struck him in the face, lodging deep into the lasher’s right eye. The lasher stumbled and went to his knees, dropping his sword and clawing at the shaft of the arrow in torment.
“Slide to the left of him.” Aram shouted at Thaniel and he slid his bow over his head and freed a spear from the rings in the saddle.
The lasher raised one clawed hand to ward off the horse and rider, but Aram, grasping the spear with both hands and standing hard into his stroke as Thaniel crashed into the kneeling beast, drove the sharp point of the spear deep into the lasher’s other eye. The steel tip slid through the cavity, scraped against bone, and then found its way into the softer tissue beyond. Without another sound, the lasher crumpled onto the grass.
As Thaniel thundered past, Aram let go of the shaft of the spear, righted himself in the saddle, and looked toward his next opponent. The lasher in command of the center of the army had succeeded in turning his troops to face the threat. Several hundred gray soldiers now marched in a line toward them, driven forward by their snarling commander. Aram once again slid his bow over his head and into action.
Behind them, the left side of Manon’s army was beginning to dissolve in fear and confusion. Its two commanders had been slain in quick and decisive fashion, many of their fellow soldiers were dead or injured and the dark-clad enemy on the black horse seemed untouchable. And now, a new foe threatened them.
For at that moment a loud noise erupted out across the plain from the direction of Derosa. Turning to take a brief look, Aram saw a dark line of men sweep out from the wooded hills around the gates of the city and charge toward the left side of Manon’s army. Encouraged by the amazing events they’d just witnessed, Findaen and his farmers had decided to leave their defenses and join the fray.
Aram looked back to his front over Thaniel’s head. There was now a solid line of pikemen, four or five hundred at least, advancing toward them. Just behind their center, the lasher in command strode back and forth, roaring orders and whipping them forward. He was armed only with a multi-thronged whip and a short sword. Thaniel didn’t wait for instructions from Aram but immediately began to close the distance to the line of upraised pikes.
The lean, hunched warriors of Manon were lightly armored with leather breastplates, shoulder pads, and broad strips that hung from their belts to protect the fronts of their legs. Such armor was no match for the missiles from Aram’s long bow and he went to work creating a gap in the line. Every arrow brought a soldier down, either dead or rendered useless. The center of the lasher’s line of pikemen began to grow thin.
Finally, as the great black horse and its deadly rider galloped down upon them, thinning their ranks, they broke, streaming to either side like water around a rock. The lasher was left alone. And Thaniel’s blood was up. He crashed straight into the massive horned creature, driving him back. The lasher spun to his left, going down to his hands and knees for a moment, but got up again immediately.
As Thaniel whirled around, Aram pushed his bow over his head and drew his sword. The lasher was dazed but turned to face them. As Thaniel thundered by, Aram swung his sword with all his might at the beast’s head. The blade clanged off the lasher’s horns, doing little damage, but the beast was staggered. Thaniel turned again.
This time, the lasher raised his arms to protect his head and Aram’s sword slashed through muscle. One of the clawed hands dropped and brackish fluid erupted from the arm. Aram’s own arms ached from the collisions with the bones of his enemy but he was filled with the fury of battle and he urged Thaniel to go around again.
But the lasher had had enough and was running away. Thaniel was on him in a few strides and Aram brought his sword down on the neck of the beast at the base of his skull. The steel found a gap in the bone, the sword bit deep, and the lasher went down in a heap, kicking at the ground with his clawed feet. Thaniel spun and charged again but the lasher had stopped moving. There were now three of them gone.
They swung back to the left, toward the right-side remnants of the army. But by now the army was falling apart. In small, disorganized clumps, Manon’s troopers were ditching their weapons and streaming toward the rear. Sudden, inexplicable destruction had come down upon them from the hills that even lashers were powerless to stop. It had become apparent to them that to stay was to die. They feared the retribution of their commanders less than the fury of this new and terrible enemy. Besides, it appeared that, very soon, there would be no commanders left on the field to exact retribution. And so, they ran.
Two lashers had already gone to the rear, toward the strange wagon, three were dead, and only one remained at the front. Aram and Thaniel now set themselves to destroy this last one, the commander of the army’s right. He was larger than the others, with enormous, shining horns, and he was striding furiously toward them. As he came, he swung his great sword in deadly sweeps about him, killing his own men as they tried to leave the field.
When about a hundred yards separated them, he tossed the sword aside and picked up a long pike discarded by one of his men upon the plain.
Sprinting to the top of a low mound, he spread his thick legs wide, brought up the pike, and prepared to receive their charge.
As the space between them narrowed, Aram felt a twinge of warning. This particular beast was huge and if he succeeded in positioning the pike just right, the force of the great horse against the tip might allow the steel to penetrate Thaniel’s armor, injuring the horse, maybe killing him.
“Thaniel, break off. Circle him at a distance.” he ordered, and Thaniel responded to the earnestness in his voice. “But keep him turning, off balance.”
The horse complied, charging around the lasher in a tight circle, close, but just out of range of the deadly pike. Aram swung about in the saddle so that his leg hung over the back behind the quiver that was attached there. Drawing arrows and releasing them as fast as he could, he assailed the lasher with a storm of missiles.
Surprised by the change in his opponent’s tactics, the lasher was caught off guard. Twisting around slowly on top of the mound so that he could keep his face to his enemy, the lasher was assaulted by a hail of arrows, and he was sustaining damage.
Though few of the arrows penetrated his hardened leather armor deep enough to cause serious injury, they were nonetheless penetrating some, and were causing pain and loss of blood, and forced the lasher to keep his head down or turned away from the assault to protect his eyes.
Finally, he could take no more and he charged down off the mound, both hands on the pike, aiming for Thaniel’s broad side. Instinctively, the horse turned toward his attacker, but Aram knew that a collision with the lasher’s pike would be a disaster.
“No, Thaniel,” he screamed. “Turn away!”
The horse veered to the right at the last moment but the lasher lunged forward and drove his pike into the horse’s flank. Because of the angle, the tip did not penetrate the armor but slid upward and through the gap between Aram’s leg and the saddle. Aram seized on the opportunity.
Kelven's Riddle: The Mountain at the Middle of the World Page 25
