Chapter 24.
Arbicos heard Chroniclus’ bellowing war cry from far across the battlefield, despite his ears still ringing from the chorus of horns that had recently decimated the sound barrier. He knew Phelan had pushed his ranks too far forward though he was unaware of the extent of their troubles. His men held strong, devoted to their warlord’s every word and footstep. They mimicked him, ensuring a disciplined line who entered combat at once, together, as the Athenian armies had practiced for countless generations.
The young warlord feared his kinsman had fallen, he broke from the lead of his ranks and retreated in between his soldiers until he came to the harem of palominos. Annabelle looked about herself wearily. At sight of Arbicos she quickly approached with a lowered neck. The warlord leapt upon her snow laden saddle, he had all but forgotten the biting cold in the heat of battle, yet the mare felt stiff, Arbicos could feel her shivering violently.
He glared through the blustering snow over the colliding armies, the sheer numbers of his enemy was unbelievable. Where did they come from? High above his men, resting upon Annabelle’s back, the warlord had an undisturbed view of the raging battle. Amidst the violence he noticed two towering figures to the north. It was Chroniclus, he approached a male who stood larger than anything Arbicos had ever seen.
The roar of his kinsman reverberated high above the collision of battle, stricken, Arbicos watched the titans enclose upon one another. Moments before they engaged another deep tremor ripped through the earth, this time shaking the land ferociously. Through the screams of the wounded another chorus of fear poured out from the battling troops.
Annabelle reared up and kicked her muscular limbs erratically. Arbicos scarcely noticed, he stared dreamily about the sea of bodies slaughtering each other without hesitance. As the earth groaned he watched Chroniclus engage with the brown skinned giant. They traded a great number of tense blows. The young warlord could see his captain’s opponent was a masterfully skilled warrior.
In a split moment he saw his friend fall victim to a most brutal blow colliding with his skull. Chroniclus raised his shield to deflect the giant’s strike but he was not quick enough. Phelan’s men were becoming overrun, and his own fought against a mass that ranked beyond the dark horizon. In a shroud of confusion he looked around for Arbephest, as though in these darkest moments of his life his mind was blanking out the worst truths. The battlefield felt empty without him.
“Back to the blockades of Rhoma!” With all his might he yelled orders to his men, “retreat to the blockades!” Those caught in the front lines could not simply relinquish arms however, they were locked in a deadly stalemate. He turned Annabelle about and charged towards the lead of his ranks, looking for Phelan’s troop captain.
At the head of his men the bloodthirsty warrior hacked away tirelessly. Through the icy sheets he looked upon the man desperately, they were hopeless. “Ureles! Give them ground! We will bring them into the gates of Rhoma, they are too many!” The huge bearded male turned abruptly about to look at his warlord. His eyes were heavily bloodshot, the dark bags sunk his face into an expression of wild hunger, a hunger for the blood of his enemy.
“I’ll never flee from battle! Take them! Take them! -” As Ureles roared the warlord watched a bronze blade protrude through the front of his stomach, his enemy enclosed upon him striking a mallet most relentlessly to the troop captain’s temple. Those who landed the fatal blows were immediately crushed under the Athenian shield wall though they were too late.
Another tremor ripped through the earth causing Annabelle to stagger, Arbicos held on tight, on his tongue were the commands for his men to retreat yet before he could yell an eruption some fifty meters ahead of him forced the crust of the frozen field to burst open. Lava flared up into the sky and a gargantuan fiery fissure exploded from beneath the feet of both Athenian troops and their enemy’s.
At the sight Annabelle jolted, she reared about nearly tossing the young warlord from her saddle, blinded by fear she ploughed through Athenian soldiers felling and trampling many in her bid to escape. “To the blockades of Rhoma!” Arbicos yelled. Annabelle galloped away beneath him. He could feel the searing heat of the burning crevice on his back despite it being so far away.
To Rhoma! At last his words were echoed by those warriors still alive, yet Annabelle was out of control, Arbicos grasped onto her reigns for dear life, she charged without direction through Athenian troops, towards the endless expanse of his enemy waiting to rid his people from existence.
The Echoes of Solon Page 36