by P D Ceanneir
‘That’s what I want him to think.’
As the coalition force moved to the high ground of the fort, Havoc summoned Whyteman and Felcon to him with their archers and spearmen. He led the four hundred to the Fess Woods, finding a steep and tricky path up the embankment at the northern end of the lake of grass. Once amongst the beach and maple trees they had a view of the potential battlefield. The dry lake was not big, about a quarter of a mile wide, flanked by bog land on its north and north-eastern sides. The cone hill of Skytop sat on its south-eastern edge and it curved inwards to the mouth of the lakebed to narrow the entrance to the field.
‘This will do nicely,’ said the prince as he looked out from the thick foliage of ferns.
Most of the archers looked at him in confusion. To them the terrain at ground level was firm and hard. Their views were much the same as Mad-gellan’s comments to the prince earlier. The terrain was ideal for heavy horse that could plough into infantry at full tilt with disastrous results to the footmen. But Felcon saw it first, ‘Ahh…it’s a funnel!’ he cried as he looked at the terrain, his men looked also, not grasping his meaning, ‘it’s the only way in, the edges of Skytop Hill and the Fess Woods will create a bottleneck.’
‘Exactly,’ said the prince, ‘giving us an advantage, Zolar will not be able to use all of his infantry against us, because there is no room.’ All the men could see it now in the fading light. The entrance to the field was too narrow for a mass of infantry to stretch out, especially since the wider area of the field would be held by the Raiders. They looked at their leader with awe.
‘So are we here to hit the enemy’s flank?’ said Whyteman.
‘Partly,’ nodded Havoc, ‘but mostly I want you to take out the Foygions. Felcon, you use your spearmen to protect Whyteman’s Eternals. Once they are seen, Zolar will send men to attack you.’
‘What if the Foygions are on the other flank?’ said Whyteman.
‘They won’t be, I’ll give them a target that they won’t refuse to attack,’ smiled Havoc.
‘What would that be, boss?’
‘Me.’
Skytop only had room for part of the prince’s host; Havoc ordered all of the cavalry, about a thousand mixed from each army, to patrol the south end of the dry lake and watch for the Vallkytes arrival. The hillside was small and steeped with wide ridges halfway up. The rest of the army camped on these ridges while Havoc and his officers held a pre-battle meeting amongst the ruins of the fort. The prince found a fallen wall that was mostly even. On it, he made a makeshift model of the ruin and the lake below from anything he could find.
‘Zolar will see we have picked a good defensive sight, but he will be able to trap us here and weaken us with a constant siege,’ said Havoc as he pointed to a couple of piled rocks that represented Skytop.
‘So what do you propose?’ asked Bronwyn.
Havoc regarded her for a few seconds; the fact that she was pregnant with his child was not far from his mind. He felt anxious at the danger she could face when battle commenced. Their discussion earlier about her role in this conflict had brought tension to their relationship. Yet, she remained stubborn and would not back down. Havoc knew that all she wanted to do was help him, but under no circumstance was she to put herself into any danger.
‘This is not your fight, my queen; I have no authority to command you,’ he answered her.
She frowned, disappointment flashed in her brown eyes
‘I give you that authority, as Field Commander you have complete control here, now what do you want me to do?’ she snapped.
‘You have the Legion also,’ said Magnus quietly, eyes shifting between both of them, ‘they are rightfully yours anyway.’ like the rest of the group he was aware of the tension between the prince and Falesti queen.
‘That will not be necessary, Sir Magnus, you will hold command of the legion,’ said Havoc.
Magnus smiled and nodded his head.
‘In the morning we will move off the hill and form ranks at the north end of the dry lake,’ said the prince, ‘Raiders will stand at the right and centre, the legion on the left.’ Havoc looked beseechingly at the queen, ‘Queen Bronwyn will form up her people to the rear as reserves. Captain Gunach will join you.’ The queen looked as if she was going to argue, but then sighed and agreed with a nod when Gunach put his small podgy hand on her arm and shook his head slightly.
‘Linth and Ethyn,’ said Havoc turning to his remaining archery officers, ‘I need you both to hand pick fifty men and make pits to hide them on Skytop. When I call you, with five blasts on the horn, come out firing at the enemy’s right flank.’ They both nodded and then the prince turned to the Ri, ‘Lord Ness, I can’t order you to do anything, but I would like you to stay with Linth and his archers.’
‘All right, it’s a good point to view the battle and take notes anyway,’ agreed the Ri leaning against his sword-staff.
‘Powyss, keep Velnour and all of the cavalry on out on the left flank, Verkin will stay with me on the right,’ said Havoc.
‘That won’t give you much protection on that flank,’ Powyss frowned.
‘That’s exactly what I want,’ smiled Havoc.
The Foygion horse arrived first; followed, many hours later, by the foot soldiers of light infantry. Velnour and the augmented cavalry kept them at bay by riding coordinated attacks throughout the night, firing arrows, or lobbing burning torches into the enemy’s ranks to scare the horses. Predominately they guarded the entrance to the dry lakebed. As the night descended to total darkness, Yaquis pulled his horsemen back and blocked any escape to the south while he waited on the remainder of the Marshals host.
Zolar had marched his men hard and fast to reach Skytop when he learnt from Yaquis’s scouts that the prince’s host now seemed complacent to occupy the old fort. When he arrived, in the early hours of the morning, he could see Havoc’s main force on the Skytop as the light of the moon glinted off the Legions armour. Black clouds raced across the silver moon covering her face and the glow from her rings to bring absolute darkness once again. Only the light from several cooking fires illuminated soldiers through the darkness.
The hopeless frustration at being duped again by the Rogun prince was starting to weary the marshal. He had forced march his host to the crossing at Stonebridge. Though his soldiers were hardened veterans’, the moral of his men had weakened somewhat as they had no chance to eat or rest. Now it looked as though they would not be able to sleep as the Raider cavalry threatened them continuously throughout the night with attacks that never came. The marshal knew that Prince Havoc’s host were in a strong defensive position; however, they were as trapped now as they had been in the marsh.
Havoc watched the enemy arrive; they filed in from the south into the narrow valley between the river and the hills behind Skytop. Their thousands filled the land like thick runny tar. Standards, banners of regiments and other heraldic designed flags flapped in the wind. They had travelled throughout the night, dawn was fast approaching, and there was no chance of sleep for the weary.
Havoc’s men had some few hours of sleep, but he did not. Most of his soldiers woke early to prepare their armour and weapons for battle. Somewhere in the back of his mind the persona of the Backsword shifted as if from one foot to the other in excitement for battle. He did not know how long his dominance would last and wondered what would happen if he lost control of his mind altogether.
‘You can’t sleep either?’ said Bronwyn as she appeared beside him and sat down, warming her hands by the fire he had made. A cool breeze ruffled her hair and she flicked it out of her eyes with irritation.
‘No, wide-awake,’ he said. They sat in silence for a time looking out towards the blackness of the night. A strong gust welled up from out of nowhere bringing with it the smell of rain far off in the distance.
‘Have you told Barnum?’ he said to her. He was referring to her pregnancy now that they had time together to talk about it in more detail. She was almost four mon
ths gone and he judged she had conceived his child when she came to him at Caphun during the first months of winter.
‘He thinks it is his. Its better that way, Havoc, for everyone,’ she laid her head on his shoulder, ‘I think your brother has a crush on me.’ They both laughed, despite themselves.
‘He is only human,’ said Havoc with a smile.
They sat in silence for a while as dark clouds skirted the moon. Somewhere in the distance, a raven called as if in anticipation of the coming battle. Its call reminded him of Verna, Mia, and his uncle Hagan’s daughters put to death so horribly on the Rattan. He knew tomorrow would see many deaths and he promised himself not to show pity to the enemy.
He wrapped part of his green rain cape around Bronwyn’s shoulders and kissed her forehead, ‘I put you in reserve to protect you, you know?’ said Havoc quietly.
‘I know, but I can look after myself. Barnum thinks the same as you. He did not want me to leave, but being queen has its good points.’
‘And its responsibilities’,’ said Havoc quietly and his tone was not lost on the queen. She sighed, content to sit in silence beside him.
Velnour stopped the patrols two hours later as the morning light dawned in the overcast sky. Marshal Zolar watched, amazed, as the prince’s army moved off the hill and out of sight as he marched onto the dry lakebed.
‘He intends to fight! I admire his bravery,’ said Zolar.
‘It could also be fear. Panicking into flight,’ informed Yaquis. He was itching for another chance at the Raiders after his failed attempt at holding them at Sternford. ‘We outnumber him almost three to one.’
‘Then we had best catch him then.’
The Gazzen-Sel regiment, about three thousand strong, marched into the south end funnel of the grass field that once was a lake. Wind rustled the tall green stalks before the soldiers flattened them with their booted feet. Zolar’s Vallkyte infantry moved behind them, bunching at the flanks because of the steep angled slope of Skytop hill on their right flank and the high embankment of the Fess woods on their left.
The Raiders, Falesti and the Legion numbered about five thousand men; while the Vallkytes were in excess of thirteen thousand, the odds were not good for the Rogan De Proteous.
Yaquis had noticed that the prince, with his Standard-bearer, was forming his army at the far end of the lakebed; he was also vulnerable, sitting astride his black horse with his back to him on his Raiders right flank as he ordered men into position. Because of the lay of the land, he was closer to Zolar’s left flank than the bulk of his own army.
‘Marshal, an opportunity has arisen!’ shouted the Wyani lord over the plumed helmets of his own mounted men, ‘I can take out the prince; he is vulnerable, you see? You see?’ He was pointing wildly at the lone prince.
Zolar hesitated as he looked over the field his men were marching into and he did not like it. Temping as it was to order an attack with the rear of the Raiders lines covered by boggy ground, and so trap them. The woods on his left looked menacing though; but the prince had laid himself bare.
With his huge force as security of complete victory, temptation won, the marshal threw the dice of fate, and he nodded to Yaquis to attack the prince.
It was a gamble to leave himself open in such a way, the Foygions were a threat in such open ground. At one point, as Havoc watched the enemy marching past the hill of Skytop, he thought that they were not going to take the bait.
However, fate was with him, the Foygions were taking a route through the soldiers of the enemies left flank, close to the Fess Woods. Chirn by his side looked furtively over the prince’s shoulder at the approaching heavy horse. The Horn of Relin grasped firmly in his hand, the other gripping the shaft of the prince’s standard pole, its base slotted into a cup attached to his saddle.
‘They are falling for it my lord,’ he said breathing heavily, ‘shall I give the order now?’
‘Patience Sergeant Chirn,’ said the prince calmly, ‘patience.’
Whyteman had stretched his two hundred and fifty Eternals along the tree line. Their green armour camouflaged them well; although they used the dense foliage of the trees and ferns to hide behind anyway. Felcon’s men, about two hundred in all, lay on their stomachs behind them.
‘What’s happening now,’ Felcon was getting impatient; the lack of sleep did not help and he was constantly batting away flies.
‘Those Foygions are moving to the left flank, I think the prince’s plan is working,’ said Whyteman over his shoulder.
‘About bloody time too, these midges are really starting to piss me off.’
Chirn swallowed hard as he saw the Foygions heel their mounts and speed up to a canter. They had cleared the Vallkyte left flank and were now passing the forward lines of the marching Gazzen-Sel regiments.
‘Ahh... my lord,’ his eyes wide with fear, the prince turned and watched the advancing cavalry, but said nothing.
Let me take them, you know I can do it, said the voice of the Blacksword. Havoc’s head pounded with pain as his alter ego tried to push himself to the forefront of his consciousness.
‘No!’ said the prince clutching the side of his head and willing the voice to remain silent.
‘What, my lord?’ Chirn held the horn halfway to his lips, ready to blow. The Foygions broke into a gallop, halving the distance to the prince in a few seconds. Those in the front rank couched their lances. The ground trembled as the heavy horse trampled the tall grass, yet they were still strung out as the cleared their own lines.
Havoc breathed in deeply to clear his head. He turned to Chirn and smiled reassuringly at the boy’s fearful face.
‘Now if you please, sergeant,’ said Havoc, and Chirn blew three hurried blasts into the horn, the sound of which spread all around the battlefield.
Whyteman and his archers were up as soon as they heard the first horn blast. Forming a tight line along the edge of the woodland, they notched arrow shafts to cords and fired down at their targets. The Foygions were moving directly in front of them, and so close, that the cavalry armour stood no chance against the wolfram tipped points of the Eternals bodkins.
The result was pure carnage; the cavalry fell in their hundreds as the devastating volley of arrows whipped through their tightly packed ranks. The Eternals deliberately hit the front riders so the attacking formation piled on top of the fallen leaders. Yaquis himself was one of the first to fall under the onslaught as other horseflesh and riders fell all around him. Screams of horses and men wrenched the still air. More arrows rained down to fall amongst the loose rear horsemen that had strayed after the first arrow-fall; there was no escape from the sharp hail of bodkins.
Over the sound of the devastated Foygions were five more blasts of the horn. Linth, and his fifty on the hill, burst out of the shallow shrub-covered pits that the archers dug on the summit, and fired down on the rear right flank of the enemy causing them to shield their heads and bunch together. With their elevated height on the hill slope, the archers were able to hit the Vallkyte rear and centre. Zolar’s knights and surrounding bodyguards also raised shields to protect the marshal.
Havoc returned to his host’s right flank with Chirn. He signalled for Velnour to attack the last remaining Foygion’s with a sharp jab of his arm at the floundering cavalry still falling under Whyteman’s assault. Velnour unsheathed his curved cavalry sabre and gave the order to charge.
Whyteman saw the Raider cavalry move to attack as it cut diagonally across the battlefield at full gallop, so he ordered his archers to leave the Foygions and hit the enemies left flank of infantry instead. The Gazzen-Sel regiment saw the arrows blacken the sky as they fell towards them. They halted and took the full force of the volleys on their wooden targs, but the arrow-tips punched through this inadequate shield and also through the tribesmen’s padded gambeson jackets that they wore. Behind them, the Vallkyte infantry closer to the Fess Woods, also fell at the assault as the three foot shafts slammed into their pavise shields and chain mai
l or protective leathers. Large swathes of the infantry on the left flank fell under the onslaught, but many held their line, hiding behind shields and trusting their armour and mail, but the well-aimed arrows were crossing long distances to take out many unprotected Vallkyte footmen in the ranks behind.
Zolar was aghast. Yaquis was down, soldiers on his left lank were dying. He quickly snapped orders for several troops to kill the archers on the hill and in the woods and then he shouted for his men to move forward to the attack. The quicker his host moved away from the arrow-fall and engage the prince’s army, the better.
Velnour’s cavalry charge slammed into the last of the Foygions destroying them utterly as they milled around in amongst the heaps of dead and forests of white fletched arrows. Yaquis, surprisingly was still alive, though wounded. He hobbled through the carnage as his men and broken horses died around him. He fell to the ground as a horse hit his back. He got up, pale with fright, and looked into the single wide-eye of Captain Velnour. It was the last thing he saw as the captain’s sabre cleaved his skull in two.
Zolar’s own archers tried to relieve the pressure on their foot soldiers by firing into the Eternals, but Whyteman’s height gave him an advantage. In addition, Felcon, had by now, formed his company in front of the archers, defending them with their shields and spears.
Havoc ordered his Raiders and the Legion to march forward to meet the oncoming enemy; he gave Chirn the order to recall Velnour’s squadron of horse so they moved out of the way of the advance as the three thin lines of the prince’s host marched towards the enemy.
The Raiders took the lead. Shields and spears carried in their left hands, jogging fast, the Legion keeping up on their left. Because of the funnel-effect of the battlefield, the Raiders would be attacking a similar number of soldiers giving them a fighting chance. However, this was their first battle as a trained unit, the battle at the Pass notwithstanding.
