He heard a yell, and one of his men pointed ahead where the road meandered through fields of wild grass and thickets. A bird circling above a group of trees caught his attention as it let out a loud caw that carried across the distance. Lanaka knew it was meant for him.
"Enemies in the woods," he said in Kurathian. "Bear left and let the Orcs take care of them, we must get to the defenders as quickly as possible." It went against his nature to leave an enemy to the rear, but he knew today's success lay in the men of Bodden surviving this battle.
He turned his men to the left, riding northwest. The troops were not in sight yet, for the trees interfered with his view, but he knew, deep down inside, that they were getting close. The riders tore across the open ground, great clumps of earth flying forth from the hooves of their horses.
Dame Hayley saw the signal from Shellbreaker. The Kurathians ahead of her started turning off the road. A copse of trees lay ahead, and she directed her Orc archers into the safety of the underbrush. Once the Orc spears caught up, they would move forward, seeking out their enemy, but if she advanced too soon, she would find herself overwhelmed.
She used a hand signal to indicate her intent, and the Orcs began weaving through the trees. The hunters moved swiftly and quietly as if they were ghosts, lending an air of otherworldliness to the situation.
She crouched at the edge of the woods, peering northward toward the expected enemy. The afternoon sun cast shadows, and Hayley wondered if perhaps Shellbreaker had been wrong, but then something moved. It was a momentary movement, likely to be missed by anyone else, but to her trained eye, it told her all she needed to know.
"Bowmen," she muttered to herself then turned to the Orcs nearby, reverting to their language, "There are archers up ahead."
"We see them," replied the hunter beside her. "What would you have us do?"
"Wait till the spears arrive. Once they're even with us, we'll commence loosing arrows on the enemy."
"A good idea," the Orc said. "We will have their flank, but what of the other side?"
"Telethial should be advancing with the Elves. They'll take care of the right flank."
The Orc nodded in agreement. Hayley was impressed, for it wasn't so long ago that the Orcs and Elves had stood on opposite sides of a fire yelling at each other. Marching and fighting together had fostered a mutual respect.
She moved eastward, down the line, to get a better view of the road. To the south, she spotted the Orc spears, Kraloch at their head.
Unlike most other commanders, Telethial was on foot, like her archers. The Elves were in small groups, some pausing with their bows ready, while others moved forward like a giant game of leapfrog.
She looked westward to see the Orcs marching up the road, their shaman leading. Down the road, farther south, she knew the princess's cavalry rode hard, but she wondered, not for the first time, if they would arrive in time.
Baron Fitzwilliam shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. "Why don't they hurry up and attack?" he asked.
"I thought you wanted them to wait," said Albreda.
"I do, but I don't. I understand it's to our advantage for them to wait, but they're making me nervous. I want Valmar to commit to battle, then we'll be sure of his attack plan."
"His knights have already formed up," she retorted, "what more can you expect?"
"He's waiting for something," he replied. "But I don't know if it's reinforcements or if he's just finishing his lunch."
"Shall I find out?" she offered.
"If you would be so kind."
She closed her eyes and began uttering strange words that lingered in the air. Fitz watched as her fingertips glowed slightly when she traced the arcane patterns needed for her spell.
"I can see them," she said. "I'm just flying over their lines now."
"Tell me, can you see any activity?"
"The knights are just sitting there. I can see some of them drinking from wineskins. Most of them don't have their helmets on, and there are other men on foot, running amongst them."
"Squires, most likely," offered Fitz.
"Yes, I believe you're right. They're tightening harnesses and making adjustments to belts and such."
"That means they'll be moving forward shortly," said Fitz. "It appears they're about to make their opening moves."
"What's this?" said Albreda.
"What's what?" asked Fitz in alarm.
"I see activity to the south. It seems the Life Mage, Revi Bloom, has sent his familiar circling around a group of trees."
"A signal to our allies?"
"Likely, there's movement below him. I rather suspect Valmar has put some troops in there to guard his southern flank."
"Can you make out how many?"
"No, but I can see our allies in the distance. They've sent horsemen and some Orcs."
"Can you tell how many?" asked Fitz. "We are vastly outnumbered here."
"A few hundred, no more," said Albreda. "Their horsemen are heading northwest, toward our lines. They should reach our southern flank before too long."
"Thank Saxnor for that," said Fitz.
"I'll circle back around the enemy lines," offered Albreda.
The baron waited patiently, watching the mage with intense interest. She opened her eyes, and for the briefest moment he saw them glowing, then the light faded. "The knights are moving," she announced.
Fitz snapped his attention to the east. The Knights of the Sword were advancing in three waves, each separated from the others by several dozen horse lengths. "Valmar's showing some cunning, for a change," he explained. "Three waves, just as I thought."
"Will the line hold?" she asked.
"It will have to, though it doesn't look good. I've never heard of footmen holding off three waves of knights."
"Have faith, Richard," she said, placing her hand on his forearm.
Lanaka's horsemen cleared the trees, and he turned right. Off to the north, he could make out the end of the baron's line of battle, the princess's standard displayed proudly. The baron had insisted they use the distinctive flag, rather than his personal one and the captain had to admit, it was easy to identify from this range.
The Kurathians were trotting, conserving their horse's energy, for they knew they would soon be engaging the enemy. The general had told him to 'improvise', a term he was finding more and more common within this army and now he understood its necessity. Before him, the enemy advanced toward the Bodden line, the heavily armoured knights kicking up dust and dirt as they rode.
Lanaka realized there were three sections of cavalry, separated by a short distance and immediately understood the tactic. Though Kurathians didn't employ knights, they had fought them on the battlefield before, and he knew their strengths and weaknesses. Few troops could withstand their fury, and he silently prayed to the Saints to protect the men of Bodden that stood waiting for the storm to descend upon them.
Hayley gave the command and arrows poured forth. They flew through the air and she watched in fascination as the quiet of the afternoon was broken by the screams of people being hit.
Arrows struck branches, the vast majority doing little damage, but at least one man staggered forth from the trees, falling to the ground with an arrow through his chest.
She watched Kraloch and his spears approaching the edge of the wood. The shaman raised his staff on high, and then his brethren rushed forward, letting out a roar of challenge. This was no orderly advance of spears, but a mad charge of hunters seeking their prey.
The ranger kept up the volleys until the Orcs disappeared into the tree line then halted. There would be little more they could do in their present position; the risk of hitting their own was too high. She gave the command, and the archers began their advance.
Sir Alard held his sword up high, bellowing out a challenge as the Knights of the Sword advanced. The enemy line drew closer, its chainmail clad footmen gripping their spears and shields tightly, hoping these would protect them. He dug in his spurs, and th
e mighty warhorse picked up speed. Looking left and right he saw the other knights following his lead. His cavalry, the finest in the land, would rip into the traitorous baron's line and carve them to pieces.
His mount stumbled, and he looked down to notice the ground strewn with rocks. Cursing, he slowed, his men dropping their speed to keep the line intact. It wouldn't matter, he thought to himself, we will still crush them. The knights were drawing closer to the enemy now, and the anticipation of battle rushed through his veins.
He gave a yell of triumph as he smashed into the enemy line. A spear struck his horse's chain barding, but the armour held, deflecting the blow. He pushed forward, his sword seeking out the astonished warrior. Down crashed his weapon, cutting deeply into the man's neck. Not waiting to see the result of his blow, he pushed his horse forward and struck again. Risking a glance, he saw the other knights repeating his movement. The line was already being forced back, the enemy unable to withstand the awesome fury of the king's finest warriors.
Baron Fitzwilliam saw the impact, saw his men fall. He yelled out a command, and those to the rear moved up, spears at the ready.
The cavalry had spent its charge, the impetus pushing his troops back more than twenty paces, but now it was his turn. Spears reached forward, stabbing at the heavily armoured enemy.
It was a desperate fight, but the future of the kingdom was at stake. To a man, they all knew what would happen if they lost this day; their entire lives, their families and homes, would be destroyed. The men of Bodden fought back with the fury of desperation.
Lanaka gave the command, and the Kurathian horse broke into a gallop. The second wave of knights prepared to charge into the Bodden lines, but he ignored them. He knew that if he attacked the second line, the third would crash into him, decimating his troops and so he headed directly for the third wave.
The knights were trotting slowly, waiting for their brothers to launch the second assault. As the Kurathians came into view, a few knights noticed them, pointing, and some began to move, but the light horses of Lanaka's men were swift and closed the distance rapidly.
The knights managed to turn their mounts to face this new threat, but they were unprepared for what came next. The Kurathians rode in amongst them, slashing left and right. The heavy armour of the enemy protected them, but their line became disordered as the foreign mercenaries mingled in. Soon, it broke down into a mass of individual combats as the bewildered knights, their vision restricted by heavy helmets, struggled to defend themselves.
Lanaka struck out with his weapon, his sword deflecting off of a chain covered leg. He attacked again, this time with the tip, and felt it penetrate flesh. His men were screaming defiance as they clashed, but the knights began to fight back. He noticed a knight slice into a horse, toppling its rider, then swing at another target, all while his horse stomped the unlucky Kurathian rider to a pulp.
All about him, his men were dying, but Lanaka knew he must buy the princess's army the time it needed to arrive.
Leaving the woods with the Orc archers in tow, Hayley spotted a swarm of cavalry off in the distance, near the crossroads. As Kurathian fought knight, she broke the archers into a run, rushing northward, desperate to arrive in time to help.
To her right, she heard the fighting die down as enemy archers broke through the trees streaming north with Kraloch and his troops followed in pursuit. Knowing that reinforcements were desperately needed, she moved to the side to let her Orcs run past while searching for the Mercerian cavalry to the south, but her view was blocked by the very same trees that had given her cover.
The first wave of knights withdrew, trotting back to the northeast to make way for the next. Baron Fitzwilliam moved fast, ordering the wounded moved, replacing them with fresh men. They had taken a beating, far worse than he had imagined possible. "We can't take another charge like that," he declared.
"We must," asserted Albreda, "our very survival depends on it. If they break through our lines, Bodden will be wide open."
"I know," he retorted, "but it seems I've underestimated Valmar, and now my men will pay the price."
"Is there no hope?" she asked. "Surely our allies are here?"
"Too little to be of aid," he said, "and, I fear, too late."
Albreda saw the look of defeat on the baron's face. "Have faith, Richard, the day is not over yet."
Another of his companions fell as Lanaka struck out yet again. His men were being worn down, but for now, the enemy was being held at bay.
"Captain," yelled an aide, "we cannot continue. We are being slaughtered."
"Back!” he yelled. "Withdraw!" The Kurathian horse, their numbers decimated, began withdrawing to the southwest, the knights in pursuit.
Twenty-Four
The Desperate Fight
Spring 962 MC
Revi Bloom opened his eyes, "The Kurathians are retreating."
"And the knights?" asked Gerald.
"Are pursuing, but they're much slower. It looks like they've inflicted heavy casualties on our mercenaries," offered the mage.
The command group were riding at the head of a long column of men that stretched to the south.
"Redridge cost us too much time," growled Gerald.
"You couldn't help it," offered Anna. "We had no idea they would unleash the Blights."
"I should have sent men north sooner. They could have been riding while we attacked Redridge."
"Don't start second-guessing yourself, General," offered Revi. "We cannot change the past."
"Yes, but now our allies are depending on us, and all we can do is trickle troops in piecemeal."
"There is still time," said Anna. "You can take the Weldwyn horse ahead. Arnim and I will bring up the footmen as quickly as we can."
"It's worth a try," said Revi. "Valmar's knights are pounding the baron's men; we must do something."
Gerald looked at the troops behind him. "You're right," he said at last. "Arnim, you take command of the foot. Bring them north as fast as you can. I'm riding ahead with the cavalry."
"What of the heavy cavalry?" Arnim asked.
"Tell Beverly to use her best judgement. We can't wait for them, they'll only slow us down."
"I'm coming with you," interrupted Revi.
"You're needed here," said Gerald, "to protect the princess."
"Aubrey will look after her, you may need me with you."
"Very well, but we ride hard." He forced his mount to a faster pace, the men behind following suit. "For Weldwyn!" he called and soon the cry was taken up, echoing down the line.
Hayley rushed into cover as what remained of the Kurathian horse rode by. She observed the Knights of the Sword pursuing, their larger horses falling behind the swift-moving mercenaries.
"Form a line," she called out, pointing to a space just in front of the tree line. In her rush to get out her command, she forgot to use the Orcish tongue, but the hand gestures sufficed, and they fell into position quickly.
The knights, triumphant over the trouncing of the light horsemen, trotted along slowly, intent on their distant prey but conserving their strength for an opportunity to charge. As Hayley drew her bow, she heard the soft intake of breath as the Orcs all along the line did likewise.
She waited for the enemy horses to draw closer. The knights rode past them, ignoring the archers until a single rider turned his attention toward them. With his yell of alarm, Hayley let fly her arrow. It sailed through the air, suddenly joined by an entire volley. The rider saw the shot, tried again to alert his colleagues, but the jangle of harness and the footfall of the horses drowned out his words.
Hayley's arrow struck true, driving through the breastplate. The rider gazed down at the injury, then slowly started tilting to the right and fell off his horse. A moment later, the rest of the volley hit home with a clatter of arrow tips striking armour
Almost a hundred archers had let loose at short range, and the arrows tore into the packed ranks of the knights. She watched riders fall to t
he ground, riddled with arrows. She loosed shot after shot, taking little time to aim. Orc bows twanged in the afternoon sun as arrow after arrow flew forth to create a hail of death.
Horses staggered about, arrows protruding from their flesh, for even their chain barding was not proof against such close range fire.
Hayley's arms ached with the effort. She reached for another arrow only to find her quiver empty. Dropping her bow, she drew her sword and waited as the rest of the archers used up their projectiles.
On the field, the knights were quickly reduced to little more than wandering individuals. Past them, she saw the second wave of knights amongst the Bodden line, in a furious melee. She wanted desperately to help them but knew her part was done. Their arrows expended, all they could do was watch the battle unfold before them.
Hayley heard the sound of horses to her side and looked in time to recognize the Weldwyn horse. They were riding north, directly through the fleeing knights, General Matheson at their head.
Sir Heward looked across at Sir Rodney. They could clearly see the first wave of enemy knights trotting back to their own lines as if returning from a Sunday picnic. A nod of acknowledgement was all it took and then the two warriors surged forward, their men taking up a yell of battle.
Save for their leaders, the Bodden horse were not knights, but they might as well have been. Years of fighting on the frontier had honed their skills, and now, after being forced to stand back and watch their comrades face the fury of these knights, they unleashed all their pent up energy.
Crashing into the rear of the retreating knights, their swords dealt out death and destruction. The enemy, already tired from their exertions, turned to fight, but their horses were blown, their movements sluggish. The riders of Bodden ripped through the enemy ranks.
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