by Brian Murray
The general took one last look at the enemy, then turned to his flag bearers. “Heavy cavalry please.”
The red flag assigned for the heavy cavalry was lowered.
Urkin looked to his right.
***
The heavy cavalry commander watched the flags while his huge chestnut pawed the ground, ready to charge. He pulled on the reins and patted the horse’s neck to calm it. His horse’s head-guard was embossed with a demon’s face with a long horn protruding from the front. The commander was proud of the guard. This was his second and he had paid two gold coins for a master blacksmith to complete the work. It was coin well spent as the workmanship and detail were second to none. His skittish horse turned around and the commander straightened the animal. Just then he looked up and saw the red flag being lowered. He raised his lance vertically.
“Heavy cavalry . . . RIDE!” bellowed the commander, lowering his lance horizontally. Behind the heavy cavalry, the light cavalrymen roared at the top of their voices and banged their bucklers with their swords. The mounts of the heavy cavalry lurched forward and thundered down the slope towards the Dread.
***
Urkin watched the heavy cavalry charge down the slope. He turned to the next flag bearers. “Royal Lancers and clansmen please.”
The dark blue and violet flags were lowered.
***
Dax smiled when he saw the violet flag drop. He lifted his axe aloft. “Clansmen . . . RIDE!” he roared and dug his heels into his horse’s ribs. The horse did not need any other urging. It galloped down the slope with the clansmen screaming behind him.
***
Captain Shepar saw the dark blue flag drop and raised his cavalry sword. “Lancers, with me!” he cried.
As one the Royal Lancers galloped down the southern slope.
***
A horn sounded behind the heavy cavalrymen and they changed formation. They switched from a charging line to three galloping wedges. Either side of the heavy cavalry, the clansmen veered right and the Royal Lancers veered to the left. All three forces aimed for the Shadows.
***
Malice saw the changes in direction and watched the heavy cavalry change formation. He smiled inside his helm. There was someone clever here to challenge him. He raised his black long sword and Talon Hunters moved to support the Shadows. They were not quick enough.
***
Urkin asked the flag bearer holding the green light cavalry banner to lower it. The light cavalry raced down the hill to join their comrades in the fray.
***
The heavy cavalrymen levelled their lancers and braced themselves in their high-backed saddles. They bore down on the Shadows, thundering across the open ground that began to level off. The point man in the first wedge plunged his lance home. There was a crunch then, after a heartbeat, he heard his lance snap.
All around him, lancers skewered the Shadows. The beasts howled. That did not drown out the sounds of wood splintering and snapping, and the Shadows’ toughened skin crunching as the lances were forced into them. The wedge plunged through the Shadows, then wheeled left and right. Now the heavy cavalry faced the charging Talon Hunters. Using the momentum of their mounts, they cannoned into the beasts.
***
On the northern and southern slopes, the clansmen and Royal Lancers turned their mounts again and galloped on their original course. Now they would be charging into the backs and sides of the Talon Hunters. Many of the heavy cavalrymen broke free of the Dread and climbed the northern and southern slopes. As they did, the clansmen and Royal Lancers bore down.
***
Dax led the charge into the Talon Hunters. Swinging his axe, he caught one of the beasts in the back of the head. Wheeling his mount, he cannoned his horse into another creature. The clansmen behind him had specific instructions: hit hard and fast, then retreat. All around Dax, the clansmen hacked and chopped with their heavy tulwar swords.
One clansman hacked down, cutting a Talon Hunter across the neck. He looked up as a Talon Hunter swiped at the man, slashing away his face. The clansman’s last action was to stab the beast in the chest, before he pitched off his pony and died.
The surviving Shadows swung their awesome weapons. They carried huge, double- ended, double-bladed axes which they wielded in graceful, wide fatal swipes. A heavy cavalryman had lost his lance and slashed at a Shadow with little success. The Shadow turned and swung its axe. The horseman ducked underneath the cut. He heeled his horse forward, but not fast enough. The Shadow twirled the double-ended axe above his head. It grabbed the axe and arched it down and backwards. The blade arced over the horse’s head, catching the rider in the chest. The rider was lifted from the high-backed saddle and landed on the ground, dead. The Shadow wrenched its bloody blade free and searched for another victim.
Dax saw the Shadow kill the heavy cavalryman. He slapped his horse into a charge and aimed for the Shadow. He hollered a war cry and the Shadow turned to face him. The Shadow beckoned the rider forward and readied itself. Dax leaned into his horse’s neck and galloped forward. As Dax approached, the Shadow swayed to the left and plunged its axe into the front of the horse. The horse reared and pitched Dax off. The warrior landed heavily, but rose to his feet.
Thade saw Dax’s horse fall. He screamed and rode to his mentor’s aid. The former gladiator had one of his short swords drawn. The younger man charged his horse forward. He saw the Shadow loom over Dax.
Dax tried to plunge his axe into the Shadow’s chest, but the creature slapped it nonchalantly away. It stepped forward and loomed over the fallen warrior. Dax tried to rise to his feet, but his legs gave way. The Shadow’s axe arched down to the smaller man. Dax held his axe up in defiance.
***
Malice watched the fighting carefully. He had picked out the two Children of the Light fighting among the men. The Dark One had given orders they were not to be harmed. He would personally kill them later. He was about to charge his Caynians into the fray when the men started to retreat. Chaos heeled his horse forward, but Malice grabbed his reins.
“Let me be!” roared Chaos angrily.
“Not yet, brother.”
“He’s there for the taking.”
“Our master does not want him killed yet.” Chaos pulled his helm clear and stared at his brethren, his eyes aglow with pure rage. He roared in anger and wheeled his horse away.
***
Thade charged his horse forward as the Shadow aimed its blow down. He turned his horse and it cannoned into the side of the Shadow, causing its blow to miss the fallen warrior. Dax staggered to his feet and looped arms with the younger man. Thade pulled the older warrior onto his horse behind him. As Thade wheeled the horse, Dax swiped out with his axe, catching the Shadow in the face and giving them some time. They were gone.
***
Clansmen surrounded Zane and they protected the Rhaurien King with their lives. On one side, the giant Kallop slashed at the beasts. The men heard the retreat horn blast and wheeled their ponies. Kallop galloped clear, but realised Zane was no longer next to him. He looked back and saw the king fighting a furry beast. The clansman cursed and turned his pony sharply. He charged back in. Zane ducked and swayed from a Talon Hunter that had him pinned in. His horse reared and the king grimly held on. The horse turned and Zane ducked under another murderous blow. Zane turned his horse again to face the beast. He hacked out, but missed the Talon Hunter. The creature swiped for Zane. The young king bent down under the blow, but not swiftly enough and his helm was ripped clear. The king nearly fell from his horse, but again he held on.
Kallop arrived.
Kallop dragged on his reins and winced as pain from his injured side lanced his body. The horse skidded to a stop on its haunches, reared, and struck out with its front hooves, catching the Talon Hunter full in the face. Kallop turned and slapped Zane’s horse with the side of his tulwar. The horse lurched forward and galloped clear. Kallop followed the horse, but a Talon Hunter swiped at his back. Kallop
grunted as the beast ripped away his baked leather back-plate, its claws reaching his flesh. The two men rode clear.
***
Horsemen started to fall when the beasts turned and faced the charging men. Just then the light cavalry slammed into the Shadows’ back. The fighting was fierce, but luckily for the men, their horses kept moving through. A horn blew twice and the clansmen wheeled their ponies away.
The horn blew four times, the call for all to retreat. Last out of the fray were the Royal Lancers and light cavalry who protected the others’ backs.
***
The Chosen watched the fighting from the safety of the mound. He was itching to open the gates and join his friends, but he resisted the urge. He bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood when he saw his clansmen, led by Dax and Zane, charge into the beasts. He watched his friends and saw Thade. He watched Thade charge into the fighting, ducking and weaving to rescue Dax. Proudly, the Chosen turned to Platos. “See the two men on the one horse riding up the hill?”
Taking the telescope, Platos peered through and nodded.
“The man in front is Thade.”
“Thade? The gladiator, Thade?” asked Platos.
“Aye, Ireen’s Thade.”
“So it is, and he still carries the swords I made for him,” said the smithy proudly. “I would recognise my blades anywhere. Damn good swords, aye.”
When the final riders left the battle, the Chosen surveyed the field. There were hundreds of rider less ponies and horses running from the field. He could not see how many were actually lost, but estimated that a tenth of the men had died in that skirmish. But he had estimated that eight thousand men charged into the battle. A couple of hundred beasts had fallen, a high ratio. The fact was simple. All of the men on the field could die one to four and thousands of the beasts would still survive. With foot soldiers, the ratio would be higher. The Chosen sighed and said a silent prayer for the fallen. He stepped from the mound.
***
Zane slowed his horse when he crested the top of the slope. He swivelled in his saddle and saw Kallop riding up behind. He noticed the clansman swayed in his saddle. He swung his horse and rode down to thank the clansman. As he drew in close, he could see the man’s face was twisted in pain and he sweated profusely.
“How are you, Kallop?” asked Zane in broken Phadrine.
Kallop managed a grunt, then grimaced. Zane walked his horse around Kallop’s pony and gasped. The clansman’s back had three huge rips deep into the flesh. He manoeuvred his horse next to the clansman and helped him to the camp. Dismounting first, Zane helped the massive clansman off his pony. He straightened his blanket and laid him face down on the ground.
“HEALER!” hollered Zane.
A Rhaurn healer ran up in response to his king’s call. Kallop raised his hand, about to complain, but Zane stopped him.
“You saved my life, I will not let him harm you,” said the king softly.
The healer looked at his liege and shook his head. Zane just glared at the man. He did not have to use any words—his hooded eyes said everything. The old healer nodded, sighed, and got to work. He removed herbs and pastes from his bag and called for hot water. It was well into the evening when the now-tired healer sat back.
Kallop slept but Zane still sat next to the clansman. He looked up and the healer shook his head.
“If you were not my king, I would have treated other people. I watched the fighting and this man saved your life, so he deserved my attention. You must listen to me when I say I am not sure he will last through the night. He may die.”
“He will not die,” replied Zane defiantly. “I will not let him.” He looked around at Dax who stood close by and nodded. Zane grinned, but his grin lacked any joy. He looked back down at the sleeping clansman and suddenly felt tired. He found his blanket, lay down, and fell asleep still wearing his breastplate.
***
The Dark One was furious and, using magical gestures, threw items all around his tent. He picked up his helm and threw it at Malice. The black helm clanged against Malice’s gleaming silver breastplate. While the Dark One continued his rage, Malice calmly bent down, retrieved the discarded helm, and placed it gently on the table. Much care was shown in the action, but it went unnoticed.
“How many Dread did we lose?”
Malice knew the question did not need an answer. He had already told the Dark One three times. The Dark One ceased his stalking and sat down wearily on his throne. He looked up at Malice and nodded. That was the closest Malice would get to an apology. The Dark One sighed.
“We need to contact the Darklord, master. We need more Dread sent to us. We will win the battle, but I would feel better if we had more of ours on the field of battle.”
“I agree, my friend. Hand me my sword.”
Malice handed the Dark One his sword, the Blade of Yallas. The Dark One gripped the hilt and the Black Crystal immediately started to pulsate. The Dark One closed his eyes and concentrated. He stabbed the blade into the ground and pictured in his mind the fortress in the Steppes and the small mage. Nothing happened. The Dark One clenched his eyes shut and mouthed the words to the spell. Again, there was no response.
The Dark One’s eyes blazed open. “He is not responding. I cannot get a picture of him. Where is he?”
“He should be in your fortress.”
“I know that and yet there is no response. Everyone is leaving me. Treacherous cur. But I will have the last say. I have seen it. I have seen Her whimpering on Her knees before me. I have seen it all. This is exactly like the futures I saw. This is as it should be, yet traitors are among us again. It started with him. Since then, people have questioned me. I will not have it. In a few days, I will prove victorious again. I have only had one defeat and that was because of him. I treated him well; like a brother and yet he betrayed me. I will have the last say. That is my word. GO!” snarled the Dark One vehemently.
Malice left the tent where Fury joined him.
“How goes it, brother?”
“I am not too sure. We have two lost souls and I am not sure how things will pan out. Our master cannot communicate with the Darklord and that is worrying.”
“Maybe he has travelled to Yallaz’oom to get more Dread for us.”
“Maybe,” replied Malice unconvinced.
“Will we win, brother?”
“Against these odd, yes. But I am not sure this is all we face.”
“What do you mean, brother?”
Malice started to walk away, then stopped and turned. “Him!”
***
Zane woke during the night with his armour digging into his side. He looked across at Kallop, who slept soundly. Zane removed his breastplate and suddenly felt hungry. He rose and walked to the fire where Dax sat quietly. The older warrior looked around and smiled at the young king.
“Hungry?” asked Dax and Zane nodded. Dax pulled some strips of dried beef from his pack and handed them to the young king. “You have missed the hot meal.”
“It’s fine, thank you.”
Dax watched Zane sit down and looked into his stormy-grey eyes. “What’s wrong, Zane? Is it Kallop?”
“No,” said Zane, his voice no more than a mumble.
“Spit it out boy, I’m no seer.”
“Why did he not help us? Why did he remain in his city? We’ve come all this way and he does not even help us during our first attack.”
“You are referring to Rowet.”
“Yes,” replied Zane, biting into his dried meat and chewing slowly.
“That was the first skirmish, Zane. That’s all. We tested those beasts and Rowet probably saw it as that. We did not use our foot soldiers and he probably knew it was only a testing raid.”
“I might take my army home. I’m tired of it all.”
Dax could feel his anger rising, but now was not the time to explode. Zane had found out only a few months ago that his father had been killed near where the two men now sat, and he was forced to rule
the Rhaurns before his time. He took a deep breath before answering. “You know you will not do that. There is too much at risk. You have been through a lot in your short reign. But remember, it’s better to get all the problems out of the way now and enjoy your marriage with Aurillia.”
Zane smiled his crooked smile.
“As for Rowet, he’s a good strategist and probably knew we were only testing the enemy. What would be the point of opening his gate when we were not going all out at the enemy? He is a canny campaigner and will come out when we need him.”
“I hope it’s not too late. There may be none of us left by the time he opens his gates and comes out. Or does he want my army to perish?”
“Never think that!” snapped Dax. “He’s our friend. This is not only about us here. It’s about our people, his people. He’s just being cautious and rightly so.”
Zane smiled again. “Did you see the Violet Eyes today?”
“Aye,” answered Dax, smiling. “They are a game bunch of lads.”
Zane rose and looked down at Dax. “Thank you, Dax.”
“Get some sleep, Zane.”
Dax watched Zane walk back to his blanket and lay down. The older warrior rubbed the stubble on his chin that scraped noisily. He looked over to where Thade slept. He was so proud seeing his boy ride in and save him. He looked like a lion among wolves—he stood out. Dax sighed and spread himself out on his blanket. Sleep came swiftly to the old warrior and his dreams were of happier times—a time long ago.
***
The Chosen woke at dawn. Feeling stiff, he walked out into his garden naked and started exercising. The cool morning air cleared his mind and he started with light stretches. His movements grew faster and faster as his body became supple. Soon the Chosen became a blur of movements. His hands, his feet were weapons and he danced the dance of death. Swirling, spinning, stabbing, and jumping, all of his movements were controlled and graceful. His dance ended in a flurry and he crouched close to the ground, all of his muscles tensed. He stood and stretched again to cool down his sweating body. He pulled himself up onto tiptoes and glanced out to the east. Something caught his attention and he walked to the eastern wall in his garden.
