by P D Ceanneir
Beside him, King Vanduke frowned and gazed on in silence. On his left sat Baron Langstroum patting his horse’s nape to settle her, ‘Andric has the rights of it, sire,’ he said, ‘they are backing off.’
‘Why?’ asked the king.
‘Are they drawing the main body of our host away from the plateau?’ offered Andric, who would be the first to admit that he was no great battle tactician and deferred to Langstroum’s expertise.
Langstroum nodded and reined his mount’s head from the other two; ‘I will go down and call them back…’ but Andric cut him short by frantically pointing upward.
That was when they all saw the dragon. It’s roar screeched over the plain as it dove through the white clouds directly towards them.
Down on the battlefield, the enemy infantry had now disengaged from the shield wall and started to flee back towards their own lines, leaving the Roguns totally exposed. The dragon banked right, Langstroum, Andric and the king could now see it had a rider in silver armour on it’s back.
Vanduke hissed as the dragon unleashed a long stream of flame down towards his men on the field below the plateau. It drenched the right wing of his host in a sheet of sticky fire. Even from his vantage point, he could hear the screams of burning men.
The dragon now turned in a tight arc and levelled off as it headed towards the plateau. King Vanduke shouted towards the Hurjunkan Warriors to be ready. As the creature loomed closer, they could see it was the copper coloured dragon known as Tyre. He glided effortlessly with lazy flaps of his long wings and then suddenly swooped low to issue a devastating stream of flame from his mouth. Three Rawn Masters among the Carras Knights, the king and Andric, were ready to use their power together and deflect the flame. It was as if an orange canopy of blistering heat spread over the men on the plateau as the Rawns deflected the searing flames harmlessly.
The closest Hurjunkan fired their Golas bolts and at this distance, and with the size of target, they could not miss. The softer underbelly of the beast had no defence against the harpoons, the dragon roared in pain as the thick iron arrows pierced its abdomen, along with several impaling its thick neck. He flapped his long leathery wings and tried to veer away from the dark-skinned Hurjunkans but the wire ropes tightened on the cart winches, yet the huge haul of force from the beast almost took out the mooring stakes. The warriors used the winches to bring the dragon down while others harpooned it further with their own bolts.
The rider on his back, wearing unfamiliar armour, waved his hand and the approaching bolts disintegrated into dust. Tyre whipped his neck around and blasted two of the Hurjunkan to ashes with his flame before biting through the steel wire in an attempt to free himself. He even plucked some of the bolts out of his body with his claws, but the Hurjunkan shot more into his rear end and tail where he could not reach. Gradually the dragon landed and he whipped his tail around to strike several of the carts and four of the warriors off the plateau. Two Hurjunkans rushed in to throw rope nets over his head and attempted to hold him down by sheer force of strength. The dragon tried in vain to burn his captives, but they stayed well away from his mouth while they threw more ropes over him. On the back of the dragon, the Rawn was throwing Fireballs in various directions until an arrow skewered him in the chest and he rolled to the ground.
‘There, that’s one problem dealt with...’ said the king as he watched the battle unfold.
Suddenly, he jumped in surprise when he saw a black arrow strike a Hurjunkan through the throat. More arrows came whizzing into the ranks of warriors and the king turned to look behind him. There, coming down the steep slope of one of the Haplann Hills was about three thousand Vallkytes, firing crossbows and decimating the Rogun Archers as they stood in a long row while they protected the Rogun flanks. The local militia ran in panic as arrows fell amongst them as they fled.
‘Damn it!’ said Andric, ‘Kasan must have had them hidden in the hills before we arrived.’
The king knew then the young baron was right. His brother was an exceptional tactician and only he could think of turning the battle in such a way. It now stood to reason why the enemy infantry was drawing the main host of Roguns away from the plateau.
To the kings right, Hurjunkans grabbed their war axes and formed a ring around the captive dragon, but without shields they fell under the hail of arrows and the dragon shook himself violently to free himself. The stakes pinged loudly and the carts shattered as the beast violently wrenched them from their moorings. Breaking them with sheer brute strength, once free, Tyre then flapped lazily into the air with a roar of triumph.
The Vallkyte archers flooded the plateau, most discarded their bows and drew swords as they ran into the Rogun ranks. These men wore the half armour of well-trained men-at-arms; their surcoat depicted a dark blue wolf’s head. Vanduke recognised them instantly; they were Kasan’s Honour Guard, the War Wolves, and veterans of many battles since the days of the War of the Pyromancer.
The king swung his mount’s head around as he ordered his men to stand behind shields. However, the Wolves had now pushed so deep and in such numbers that it was obvious Vanduke was their target. He kicked the flanks of his horse and as she spurred forward into a gallop he swung his sword, cutting down the two Vallkytes on either side of him, an arrow hit his horse’s neck and its front legs collapsed under it sending him crashing to the ground.
There was movement all around him as the Carras Knights formed ranks and fought back the charging Wolves. Three enemy soldiers rushed the king as he got to his feet. The first with his spear, mis-timed the lunge, and the king rammed the pommel of his sword into his face, shattering his nose and ocular sockets. The second lashed down as the king started to rise from the ground, but his sword shattered when the king used the Earth Element and then found Vanduke’s sword cutting through his gut with one well-aimed swipe. The third soldier tried to knock the king to the ground with his shield, but Andric charged in, using his horse to shield his liege lord and knocking the man off balance. The baron swung his sword to clatter off the soldier’s helmet making him stagger again and then plunged it into his neck. The blood bubbled up the blade as the young baron yanked it from side to side.
More men came; Carras Knights formed a strong circle in front of the king and held them back with sword and shield. Vanduke looked out towards the battlefield. It had not changed much, but the dragon was now amongst his men creating chaos. He looked towards the slope of the hill and saw the last of the Vallkytes running in and surrounding them. His archers were taking the brunt of the attack.
‘Move back to the rings!’ he shouted. He hoped they could defend themselves from the enemy crossbows that were now forming up in front of his knights who moved back forming a wall of steel around him. Through the gaps of the men, Vanduke could see a troop of Vallkyte Knights in grey armour coming towards him. In the centre was a knight in white armour and red shoulder guards.
The Vallkyte king had come to the Rings of Port.
Dolment leant forward on his horse to streamline his charge and increase his speed, holding his sword arm forward as he galloped. The Lancers had lost about a dozen men, but a small fraction compared to the hundreds of Brethac soldiers that fell under the hooves of the first charge of the Lancers. He felt the mass of men behind him, heard the panting of the horses and pounding of the hooves on the solid ground.
Suddenly a shadow passed overhead and as he turned, he saw the underside of the dragon and in his claws were four of his horses and riders. Other lancers toppled as the dragon struck, the rest still held their steeds steady as they charged. It only proved to Dolment that the creature saw his men as a threat.
‘Head for the centre!’ he shouted behind him, ‘the dragon would not dare to attack us among his allies.’
The rear of the Brethac Army held up shields as the Ifor Lancers struck. The shields may have been made of paper for all the good they did. The Ifor Lancers hit them in a wedge formation, cutting a huge gash into them and their momentum did not sl
ow until they found the front rank of the Roguns. Dolment turned to the right, his men followed in a well-disciplined formation, carving another line into the enemy as they pushed to exit.
Just then, another shadow passed over them and Dolment flinched. Why would the dragon attack when he was among its own side?
He looked up and saw the underside of the dragon, the huge wings blocked out the sun. Something was wrong however; this dragon was massive and blue in colour.
The dragon Tyre did not see Ciriana until it was too late; the older dragon thumped into his back and used her claws to crumple his wings into her grip. They both dropped from the sky sending up streams of vapour as they fell. Tyre hit the ground with bone crunching force. The impact indented the earth into a shallow crater and sent a circle of dust up into the air.
When the dust cleared, everyone could see Ciriana’s bulky weight had pinned the smaller Tyre to the ground. On the larger dragon’s back, a small form waved at Dolment.
‘Gunach?’ said Dolment in obvious surprise.
Gunach felt safe enough to finally prise his hands from the neck spike he had held onto for the better part of an hour. He may not be afraid of heights, but flying was not a natural pastime for a dwarf and he resolved never to do it again now that they were on the ground. The final attack had nearly caused the contents of his stomach to empty.
‘Would it be too late to ask you to warn me the next time you do that?’ he said rubbing his backside and swallowing loudly.
‘Sorry, my old friend,’ growled Ciriana as she used her forelegs to keep the smaller dragon pinned down, ‘it was a spur of the moment opportunity.’
Havoc and about two thousand riders finally exited the winding pass through the hills and stopped at the upper edge of a slope that marked the end of the high ground and the start of the lower, level grassland. As the others filed through the pass and halted in a line on either side of him, he surveyed the battlefield.
He could see that the concentrated area of the fight was at the foot of the small plateau, which was off to his right. He could see a visible line between the two opposing infantry in the centre as they continued to hold each other back. In other areas, the battle had disintegrated into separate pockets of resistance, though this was difficult to see through the smoke coming from Wyrmfire scorched grass.
He was surprised when he saw Ciriana in the distance, yet he knew first-hand how quickly the dragon could cross vast distances with ease. Gunach was true to his word in convincing the prophet to come to their aid. Ciriana and the dwarf had been friends for a very long time, since long before Havoc’s birth.
The prince’s eyes now turned to the plateau. His heart missed a beat, Vallkyte troops had overrun the Rings, and a tight packed formation of Carras Knights was valiantly fending off the enemy. In the steady breeze, the Royal Standard of the Rogun King fluttered in the centre of the knight’s formation.
He unsheathed SinDex and held the sword high for all to see.
‘PROTECT THE KING!’ he shouted. All of those around him took up the cry, which was then drowned out by the metallic sounds of blades as soldiers extracted their swords from their scabbards.
‘Little Kith,’ said Havoc, ‘protect the countess.’ From somewhere close behind him came the big man’s acknowledgement. Havoc turned to his right and caught Lord Rett’s eye. Both men smiled and nodded. Then the prince jabbed at the flanks of Dirkem and the black stallion shot forward down the slope.
King Vanduke had to hand it to the Hurjunkan, though reduced in numbers they still put up a brave fight. They fought as individuals, lacking discipline, yet fought fiercely. It was because of the big warriors that the knights had managed to move back to the Rings of Port unhindered and make a stand. Four more of the bodyguards had fallen to the enemy crossbows and the Hurjunkan charged the owners of those weapons that stood at the foot of the slope, running across their field of aim and breaking their attack. The crossbowmen fell back and their position replaced by the Vallkyte Knights who cut the foreigners down without a second thought.
The grey-armoured knights surrounded King Vanduke’s men and furious hand-to-hand combat ensued. Loud clangs of swords and shields rippled around the defenders. Throughout the noise there was a high-pitched keening above him, Vanduke looked up and saw a red kite hovering a few feet above their heads.
The king frowned, ‘Mirryn?’ he whispered.
A crossbow bolt ricochet off his helmet’s cheek guard and stuck in the sword arm of a knight beside him. The king dragged the man out of the way and stepped into the line of men, taking his place. He tipped the bottom of a shield belonging to one of the Vallkytes with his sword so his neighbour could lunge at the gap and then he stabbed at the eye slit of a helmet and watched the blood jet from the burst eye.
He took the next lull in the fight to step back and look around him. Somewhere off to his left he could see Andric, still mounted and organising Rogun infantry into a tight group in a bid to fend off the larger number of Wolves attacking from his right. He caught the sight of Baron Langstroum, a good distance away, fighting a rear-guard on foot with several Rogun nobles and their bodyguards aiding him. Smoke drifted in from the battlefield and he lost sight of the group.
Through the press of men, he saw his brother. King Kasan was walking slowly towards them. A tall Hurjunkan stood in his way, but Kasan dodged the sword, slashed with his small battle-axe and then swung his broadsword in a horizontal arc cutting the warrior’s stomach open to the air. Two more of the big warriors fell to the Vallkyte King as he cut a path towards the front line of Carras Knights. He then used the Wind Element to send three of the Roguns into the air and over the heads of Vanduke’s men.
Vanduke looked around, the Carras Knights were taking a pounding, but he could see that more of the War Wolves lay dead at their feet. He walked out into the open so Kasan could see him.
‘Here, brother!’ he said. Kasan jerked his head up and Vanduke could see the man grin through the guards of the white helmet. He ran towards Vanduke shouting at the top of his lungs.
‘Long it has been since I last set eyes on a fellow dragon,’ said Ciriana as the younger dragon mewed in pain. ‘Where did you come from?’
Tyre’s head snaked around on his long neck so he could see the larger dragon that held him to the ground.
‘Don’t you know, prophet?’ he said through gritted teeth. Gunach leant forward just enough to get a look at the copper-coloured dragon, he could see a stream of blood trickling from the creature’s needle sharp teeth. Tyre was obviously bleeding internally due to the damage he had received from Ciriana’s attack.
‘Couldn’t you see this coming?’ he continued. ‘It has been many an age since the offspring of the Sept of Red have slept the dormant sleep in our eggs...’ he coughed loudly and hacked up more blood which sprayed the ground to his front. His breathing became laboured.
‘We have the memories of our fathers and mothers...’ he groaned and shuddered as pain shot through him.
‘This can’t be,’ said Ciriana, ‘there was only one egg I know of that was lost...I...who found the eggs?’
‘The one… the one the Brethac Ziggurat call Lord Sernac has watched over us for a very long time…
Ciriana growled, ‘much is hidden from me. I…’
Tyre shuddered violently and his head fell to the ground with a dull thump. The last of his breath left his punctured lungs.
The slope gave the horses’ instant momentum for the charge, but the distance gave them little time to form into a V shape. Therefore, a loose, but still devastating, wall struck the Vallkytes on the plateau and they screamed as the horse’s hooves pummelled them into the ground. Havoc felt the press of others beside him so he was unable to lash out with his sword; he just crouched forward and rode along with the relentless wave of horseflesh. He knew that not all of the two thousand would be through the gap of the pass, yet they would join in and their numbers in this battle was going to make a huge difference.
&nb
sp; His cavalry were halfway through the enemy when he felt the pressure beside him ease as men broke off to fight alone or had already fell from their mounts. He had lost sight of Lord Rett and he heard Powyss shout from far behind him. Havoc pressed on. He heard Furran somewhere to his left telling others to stay with the prince and then Tia screamed a warning just before something hit him in the shoulder and the ground rose up to meet him.
Kasan deflected Vanduke’s sword, then rammed his shoulder into the Rogun king’s chest. Vanduke’s staggered and his back slammed against one of the Driftcircle’s tall monoliths, he then had to duck quickly as Kasan’s sword sent sparks from the stone where his head had been.
‘You were never as fast as me, Van,’ taunted Kasan.
Vanduke refused to be intimidated and said nothing. He swung around and deflected his opponent’s sword lunge, then gripped Kasan’s other arm so he could not use the battle axe. He then kicked him in the chest sending the Vallkyte king over the central dais stone.
‘You were always full of shit!’ replied Vanduke.
Havoc stood and snapped the crossbow bolt’s shaft in his shoulder. Pain flared down his sword arm but he ignored it. He looked around him. His cavalry had rushed past and were pushing the enemy back. Some had split to attack the infantry on the flatland below the slope of the plateau and already the right wing of the Brethac army was disintegrating, yet trying vainly to hold some defensive formation.
Havoc rushed forward, people were shouting his name, horses were everywhere, most empty of riders. There was confusion, smoke and noise. He happened to see Powyss and Hexor coming from his right, fighting their way to him and then smoke blocked his view. He could not see Bleudwed in the confusion of battle, but heard little Kith’s voice roar above all the others.
Two Vallkytes loomed out of the smoke and ran towards him. The prince split SinDex and took one of the attackers down with an arcing cut upwards that carved his chest open through his armour and blocked the second before hacking one leg of at the knee. Another four appeared and Havoc swung left very hard to knock his first opponent off balance and impaled the other that came in from his right with Dex. Lord Rett suddenly appeared in front of the prince and slashed left and right with Selnour, cutting the last two down.