by Jason Malone
I could not really tell what was happening elsewhere on the battlefield, but I could see banners that gave me some indication. Our left unit had attempted to outflank Stephan’s forces but was now also engaged in a brutal melee, though fortunately we had the upper hand on that side of the field.
Our right unit, however, had come to face Odo’s forces, and they were slowly being pushed back around behind us. They would surely rout soon, and then our flank would be left exposed. Stephan and Odo’s cavalry kept making attempts at outflanking us, but they were easily repelled by our own cavalry. If it were not for the advantage of that hill, we could not have held as long as we did.
My arms were already tiring, and my neck ached, but I kept fighting as if possessed by Hildafol, the god of strength himself. All I could hear around me was screaming and the clash of steel against steel. The ground was being churned and muddied, and I almost tripped over bodies a few times.
I stood side by side with Roger, and the two of us worked in harmony. We all worked in harmony. I did not need to think about what I was doing. Instinct had taken over, and the rush of battle kept me going. I just kept killing and killing, waiting for death to come for me.
It seemed to never end. No matter how many men our warriors killed, more kept coming, reinforced by Stephan’s reserves. I could see his banners at the back of the army and heard the horns sending commands across the fields. If I could just get away from this melee and kill Stephan, then this battle would be over, but I knew that was folly.
We were eventually overwhelmed. Carol had ordered us to hold the centre, but no matter how hard we fought or how much blood we spilled, we could not hold it forever. The men grew tired holding their heavy shields and thrusting and slashing at their opponents, and after some time William’s men pushed through.
I did not see it happen, but I heard the cries as enemy warriors poured through the breach and began cutting us down from behind. The whole formation unfolded, and what followed was a fierce melee. Death came from all directions, and the men could no longer guard their comrades. We fought only for ourselves.
Spearmen dropped their spears and drew their swords and knives while our archers now wielded clubs and axes instead of bows. Men were dying all around me, and I sincerely believed I would not last much longer.
And then I saw William. He was cutting through our force, surrounded by seven or eight housecarls. I was right about him being the man with the full helmet, and now that I was closer to him, I recognised his armour and his sword. His housecarls fought beside him as he sliced through us. Roger also realised who it was and shouted that whoever could bring him the glove of that man — or his head — would be richly rewarded.
Now his housecarls were facing an onslaught of warriors, and although they were incredibly skilled, they were overwhelmed, and one by one they fell. William was soon without a bodyguard, but he fought off his assailants with immense skill and ferocity. Around him his men died, but Roger’s men died too, and at this point it was hard to tell who was winning.
Would killing William really cause his men to rout? Would they even notice?
“Kill him! Kill the bastard,” Roger shouted. A soldier lunged at Roger with a spear, but Roger easily deflected the blow and with one heavy swing cut his assailant’s head clean off. Without hesitation, Roger turned and ran for William, intent on killing him.
I chased after Roger. As Roger neared him, pushing past the enemy, William had his back turned and Roger saw the opportunity to strike.
He lifted his sword, but just as he was about to bring it down on the unsuspecting William, I dived and tackled Roger to the ground. He yelled, swearing at me, then pushed me off. An enemy soldier rushed over to us and made an attempt at killing Roger while he was down, but I thrust my blade forward and opened his gut, spilling blood all over the earl.
William noticed what was going on behind him and spun around, and wasting no time, he swung his blade at me. I blocked, pushing his blade away with my shield, then kicked. In one motion, William dodged the kick and jabbed down at Roger, but Roger rolled away and jumped back up again.
William, Roger, and I all looked at each other for a moment but then turned our attention to the men behind us. A man had swung at me with an axe, so I took the blow with my shield and swung my blade up at his chin, cutting open his face. He fell back with a scream.
I whipped back around and smacked my shield into William’s sword just before his lunge struck home. I heard him grunt and stumble to the side, but he retained his balance. At the same time, Roger jabbed his sword at William’s back, but because William had stumbled he only took the blow to his shoulder.
“Leave him to me, Edward,” Roger shouted.
Before I could respond, Roger cried out and swung around. With a loud clang, his shield connected with an enemy warrior’s helmet. The warrior collapsed, but Roger fell to a knee. There was an axe buried in his thigh. William saw an opportunity and, ignoring me, threw himself at Roger and pinned him to the ground. Roger fought back, screaming, but William drew a dagger from his belt and thrust it at Roger’s face.
Just in time, I tackled William, and he went rolling down the hill a few feet. His helmet came loose and was lost in the mass of legs, so now I could see his face. I rolled with him, and before he could react, I pounced on top of him and pressed my sword against his throat. He scowled, his face red and sweaty. His shoulder was bleeding from where Roger had stabbed him.
“You need more practice,” I said, opening my faceplate.
He frowned for a second and then recognised me and laughed. “I was wondering when I would see you again. Behind you,” he shouted.
I turned and lifted my sword, parrying the blow of a soldier who tried swinging his sword at my back. I rolled to the side and then cut at the man’s leg, and he fell to the ground with a yelp. I turned back around and saw William get back up and kill an attacker with his dagger.
Another of Roger’s warriors sprinted at him and rammed his shield into William’s face, and William fell back, stunned. He landed on his behind, and I ran over to try to save him, but then I heard the sound of a warhorn behind me. I turned and saw Roger blowing into it, giving the command to regroup and form a wall. I gave one last nod to William, who crawled back to his feet and started yelling orders to his men. I ran back uphill to join the shield wall that was now forming and fell in beside Roger.
“You let him go,” Roger said as I locked my shield in place. We all stared through the gaps at the wall William was now forming in front of us. “Back up,” Roger called. “Slowly now.”
We all backed up in unison, and William’s wall slowly followed us. Dozens and dozens of corpses lay in between both forces, and William’s men now had to walk over their dead to get to us.
I could see now that we were losing the battle, and Roger had called us back with the slim hope that we could win. To our left, the battle was still raging on, but some of our men were already beginning to run, and to our right, Odo’s forces were slowly pushing against Carol’s, which now faced west instead of south.
“We’re losing our right flank,” I said to Roger.
“I know,” he said. At that, William’s shield wall began moving towards ours, but then they stopped. In the distance we heard warhorns, hundreds of them trumpeting from over the hills. William’s forces paused, and every man turned to the east to see what the noise was.
And that was when we saw them.
There were hundreds of them, all on horseback, lined up along the ridge to the east. Our left unit, still fighting Stephan’s troops, also spotted them. Their commander sounded his horn, and they bolted, retreating farther up the hill towards Carol. Their last remnants of hope had been shattered, and they were now fleeing for their lives.
Stephan’s cavalry chased them down, but his infantry ignored them, and the soldiers who were previously fighting Carol’s troops turned their attention to the east. Stephan must have realised that the horsemen on the ridge were not his
allies, because his troops to our left had now formed a long wall of spears to counter this new threat.
But then we heard more horns to our right. I looked over, peeking through the gaps in our shield wall, and saw that Odo was betraying his king. He had kept half of his troops in reserve while the other half fought our right unit, but those reserve troops were now attacking Stephan’s left flank.
Roger’s shield wall and William’s shield wall stood facing each other, unsure of what to do next. I felt the ripples of confusion flow through our men, and I guessed the same was happening to our enemy. Odo was supposed to be fighting with Stephan, not against him, so this new turn of events would have shocked everyone.
“I will hold William here for as long as I can. Get the king to safety,” Roger said to me. “This battle is lost.”
Roger was probably right, but I just stared at him, agape. I did not want to believe it.
“Go,” he barked. I nodded and pushed back through the men behind me, threw my shield down, and pulled off my helmet, then sprinted off uphill. We had enemies to our south, to our west, and now to our east.
The Gods were about to have their fun.
“I will not leave my men to these animals,” Carol said. For the first time since I had met him, he was angry with me.
“If you stay, you will die,” I said.
Carol scoffed, and his advisors all exchanged glances. I had begged him to retreat with whatever men he could back to his fortress or to Giant’s Rest. The battle was lost, and his generals all agreed with me. The men from the left unit who had routed regrouped at the top of the hill around Carol, guarding him, but I could sense their uncertainty. If we fled the field, many of those men would lose faith in Carol and go back to their homes. If we stayed, many would die.
“Remind me again, Edward. Who is the king?” Carol asked. He glared down at me from atop his horse.
“You are, Lord King.”
“Indeed. And that means I choose whether to stay or go. And I wish to stay and die with my men.”
“Then do not stay up here, My King,” one of Carol’s strategists said. “If you wish to show your men that you will die with them, at least do so on your own terms. Lead these men back into the fight.”
Carol pursed his lips and looked over the battlefield, thinking. Roger and William’s shield walls still faced each other, locked in a stalemate. The force around Carol was swelling, being bolstered by men who had fled or retreated but regrouped back at the top of the hill.
The battle at the western edge of the field was still raging, with Carol’s and Stephan’s forces now fighting side by side against Odo, who was slowly pushing them back. And in the east, atop the ridge, the Immortal Horde grew larger and larger as more horsemen arrived from Tillysburg, while the other half of Stephan’s forces stood facing them, waiting for the imminent slaughter. The warriors around Carol were all looking up at him, awaiting his orders.
Carol nodded and pointed to an archer. “You there, go and tell Earl Roger that I command him to pull back and then come around to Lord Odo’s left flank. He should come up the hill, go across, and then bring his men back downhill to strike,” Carol ordered.
The archer bowed and sprinted off downhill to Roger’s shield wall. Carol looked over his bloodied, beaten, and dishevelled men, then sighed.
“You are often told by those above you that the fate of this kingdom rests with me,” Carol began. His voice was raised so all could hear. “But the men who say this are wrong! The fate of Ardonn lies not in my hands, but in yours. Our kingdom’s heart beats in your chests. Her arms carry your swords, and she defends herself with your shields. Your ancestors forged this kingdom with their strength and tempered her steel with their own blood, and now, today, you brave men must do the same.
“The men you see on that ridge to the east wish to take from you everything you hold dear and tear our country apart. They wish to slaughter your brothers and sons and violate your daughters and wives. So, let us stop them! Let us show them what it means to have the Gods on our side.”
Carol drew his sword from its sheath and threw himself down from his saddle, and the warriors around him all cheered. Even his cautious advisors were smiling. The sunlight gleamed off his blade. “I may be your king, but I am not your ruler. Brothers, today I am your leader. Will you follow me?”
With those last words, Carol’s soldiers all drew their weapons, thrust them into the air, and cried a resounding “yes.” Carol was grinning.
Roger must have received Carol’s message, for he was beginning to withdraw back up the hill to make a move on Odo’s flank. William’s wall stood firm for a while, but they must have seen that Roger was no longer a threat, because they too withdrew, going back downhill.
But in the east, we heard a warhorn blowing. It was low and long — one great hum to signal the coming of our doom. My blood ran cold, and my muscles seemed to freeze at the sound.
The three thousand horses began to stomp their hooves, and soon after, the long line of immortal riders moved forward, coming slowly down the steep hill from atop the ridge.
“Captains,” Carol shouted. “Get your men moving. We will form a wall in front of the usurper’s men. Let us hope Stephan knows his real enemy today. Go!”
Without hesitation, the bedraggled warriors atop the hill sprinted down with their king at their side, screaming, filled with passion and fury. I ran with them, sword in hand, and Carol ran at my side.
I was afraid. Terrified.
Yet I could not help but smile. I would die beside my king. My friend. The horses started to gallop, hoping to catch us before we could brace ourselves, and we sprinted faster and faster, the wind tearing at our faces. Many men were throwing down their shields or pulling off their helmets so they could move faster.
We made it, but only just. The first men to arrive in front of Stephan’s line began to form a shield wall, and bit by bit it widened, extending along the bottom of the eastern hill. We could hear the enemy horses screeching and their riders growling and shouting, and the clatter of shield locking against shield, and the rumble of hoof against earth. I fell into the shield wall, behind two rows of men, and Carol came in beside me. Neither of us had shields, so we stood behind those men who were forming the wall.
“Brace yourselves, men. Today we save our kingdom,” Carol shouted. He punched me on the arm and laughed. “Are you ready, Edward?”
“I hope so,” I said.
He grinned at me. “We will win today. I can feel it.”
I said nothing, but deep down I too had a feeling that we would win. Was it a message from the Gods, or was I merely inspired by Carol’s presence? We would soon find out. The horsemen came closer and closer, speeding down the hill, and eventually the only thing we could hear was the thunder of hooves.
Then I heard another sound. Carol heard it too. It was a warhorn, blowing from behind us. “To their flanks,” a man shouted.
Carol and I both turned, and many of the men in the back rows did too, and a feeling of dread washed over us. Stephan’s forces, only half a dozen yards behind us, all turned and ran to the sides of our wall. Half went left, while the other half went right. Carol had taken a great risk by forming his wall in front of Stephan’s line, and now we were about to pay the price.
We would be surrounded on three sides.
But I was wrong. Upon reaching our flanks, Stephan’s men did not turn and face us. They did not begin cutting through the line to crush us between both halves. Instead, Stephan’s men faced eastwards and formed their own walls alongside ours. The two kings both united against a third. This was not at all what Odo had hoped for.
And then the chaos began.
There was a great roar, like the world itself was being torn asunder. The shields thundered, and the men screamed as hundreds upon hundreds of horses smashed into the wall of spears and shields.
Riders were thrown from their saddles over the wall and landed with a thud on the other side, writhing and moani
ng as time caught up with them and they dissolved into thin air. The horses all cried out in pain as they collided with our wall, and they all toppled in front of our men. A shield wall would halt ordinary cavalry, but these beasts were fearless, driven on by the sheer will of their riders. Blood sprayed everywhere, and our wall held as horses crashed against us like waves breaking against a cliff face.
But it could not hold forever. Our line broke in one spot farther along to the left, and horses began pouring through. Before we could react, it broke again farther along, and then once again to the right. It was not long before Emrys’s riders were breaking through and surrounding us.
Carol shouted orders, some horns were blown, and the entire shield wall was dismantled in an instant. The last of the enemy’s horsemen rode past us, cutting men down as they went, and then they all came around for another go.
This was the true meaning of chaos. Horses were charging from all sides. Men were screaming in panic. The stench of death clogged our nostrils. And it all happened so fast. Men who fought for Carol and men who fought for Stephan were now fighting side by side for Ardonn, and they were dying not as enemies, but as brothers, cut down by Emrys and his horde.
Yet no man fled. We stood our ground, ducking and dodging, stabbing and cutting, slaying horse and man alike. We fought hard, knowing we would likely die but content that it would be for something great. I was separated from Carol shortly after the wall of shields collapsed, and I hoped by all the Gods that he would not die.
It did not take long for our men to figure out that the riders would die if they touched the ground. They would have been confused and bewildered by this strange sorcery, but they did not let that stop them from fighting. Instead, it only increased their zeal. We were striking at the horses now, spearing their sides or slicing at their legs, constantly ducking and rolling to avoid the downward cuts of the ancient blades.