Far out to the left, Adriko had closed on the enemy cavalry. Then there was an awesome sight, and testament to Adriko's skill at organization. Nearly a thousand archers fired at once, and moments after, three thousand men drew and cast javelins in almost perfect unison. The enemy light cavalry, hundreds of them, melted away in a chaos of dead men and wounded horses.
Further out, the enemy's flanking force of irregulars retreated in disorder before Kurvan's scouts and raiders. Behind both Adriko and Talaos, the rest of Kurvan's horde was following, running and leaping across the plain.
Talaos's main army to the right was holding, as ordered. By now, he imagined, the enemy there would be getting frustrated at his inaction. He was certain that the enemy fleet would sometime soon use its overwhelming superiority to keep his own at bay while it landed reinforcements for the enemy. That might take a while, but so would the battle.
He'd promised Tescani he'd come, but there were things he could not neglect on the way.
Ahead, close now, was the enemy cavalry.
"Javelins!" he roared, and again his Madmen and his Wolves drew and cast. They threw at the very moment the enemy reached again to draw their own. It was a crucial moment of advantage. The second volley of javelins threw the enemy into disorder. Here and there, both sides traded arrows, but Imvan and the Wolf archers got the better of it.
Both sides rode hard, and soon they would close in battle.
Now was the time.
Talaos focused his will, his rage. The enemy was before him under a blue sky.
But he was the storm.
He let go the reins. Both his hands were free. He called for the power from within, and lightning crackled in his hands.
The onrushing enemy looked upon him with startled eyes.
His own shone with power.
He stretched out his hands, and lines of lightning shot from each. He swept his lightning slowly across the enemy ranks, and men were blasted backward off their horses, burned and dying, or incinerated in the saddle. Left and right he swept, dealing death. At last he stopped. A handful lived; nearly fifty other men screamed and died atop terrified horses. Other horses nearby panicked, throwing their riders into confusion. The enemy formation dissolved.
Then they were upon them.
Firio, Halmir, and a few others threw weapons at close range. More enemies died. Talaos reached the first living foe. The man had a long spear and attempted to run him through. He grabbed it and hurled the man backward off his horse with his own spear. Then Talaos flipped the spear and lanced the next horseman behind. To his right, a Wolf ran an enemy clean through the skull with a long spear.
Epos fought as a good cavalryman, wielding shield, horse and long spear in coordination of defense, maneuver and attack. He ran one foe through, then another. Vulkas used his war mattock like a battering ram, glanced an enemy's long spear aside, and sent the man flying with a crushed chest. The others came on wreaking havoc.
Talaos ran another cavalryman through, then pulled the long spear back and laid about with it as a staff. He cracked one foe across the face, crushing it inward with a spray of blood. He did the same across another's helmeted skull. The man toppled, but the spear snapped in half. Talaos then drew his long blade and began scything men from their saddles.
Small, whirling noises caught his notice. Firio, standing on his foot saddle, was throwing dagger after dagger, and nearly every throw caught its mark. Larogwan before him cut men and their horses down with sweeps of his long axe. Halmir and Kyrax had joined Epos, and together the three wielded long spears to run down foe after foe.
Vulkas was having difficulty with two foes. He seemed to grow annoyed, and with a mighty roar raised his war mattock overhead with a single hand. The giant then brought it crashing down on one of them. The man's head vanished in a spray of gore. Then a Wolf's spear toppled the other foe. All around, the disorder in the enemy ranks had made the fight a confused melee, and that favored his Wolves. The enemy was dying fast.
For a moment, Talaos had no enemies immediately around him. He took stock.
Further ahead the enemy irregulars on foot still advanced, but they looked less than confident. To the left, Adriko had either killed, unhorsed, or routed the entire enemy cavalry force. He was sweeping the enemy irregular line up in his wake as he went.
Kurvan's men were now closing and catching up. The leading elements had already reached a few unhorsed stragglers from the enemy cavalry. Some foes that fought were quickly cut down. A few gave oaths of surrender, and were sent out of the fight.
To his right, he could see the main body of the enemy. The companies closest to him had turned to face what they would reasonably expect to be an attack. Behind and to the right, Hadrastus's assault force waited at the ready. Talaos smiled. Their time was coming soon.
Far off beyond the coast, he could see enemy ships full of soldiers approaching the shore. Other ships were forming a line, facing south toward his greatly outclassed little navy. He'd given his fleet orders to protect the harbor, and delay any attack by sea.
But with no experience as an admiral, and no effective way to get word to them during the battle, he would now have to trust in the officers he'd appointed. He turned to the fight at hand.
The few remaining enemy light cavalry before him were in disarray. Some men had wheeled and threaded back through their own irregulars, likely hoping to form up with the cavalry fleeing Adriko. The enemy irregulars themselves, hundreds of them, were scattered in loose squads and companies. He'd seen what Kurvan had done against cavalry with irregulars during the taking of Avrosa, and didn't want to be on the receiving end of something like it.
"Form up!" he shouted to his men, "and wait for the hillmen!"
It wasn't long. Kurvan himself turned up, growling with a kind of joyous fury.
"Come on lads!" the warlord shouted, "There's heads that need splitting!"
Together Talaos, the Madmen, Wolves, Kurvan, and the hillmen horde charged the now hesitating enemy. Talaos roared and cut down men left and right before him. Ahead and to the left, Adriko rolled up the enemy in the direction of the main body, the archers, and the artillery. As they pressed the retreating enemy, Adriko, Talaos, Kurvan, and all their forces would soon be in the range of that artillery. Behind and to the right, Hadrastus's force still waited, just outside the range of enemy fire. That was the very reason he was here, thought Talaos, and now it was time to act.
As they advanced with clouds of howling hillmen all around, Talaos turned to his Madmen and Wolves. "Now men, as we planned, we're going to make straight for those siege engines and the companies of archers around them. Don't stop until we reach them! Our job is to clear the way, so that Adriko and Kurvan can hit them from behind while Hadrastus rolls up their flank!"
The Wolves listened with hard eyes and grim looks.
"Well," roared Talaos, "are you in the mood for some killing?"
Black, bloodthirsty cheers erupted from his men.
He formed his men up in a loose wedge with himself at the point, the Madmen next, and the Wolves behind. With a motion of his hand, they raced across the plain, ahead of their own forces and straight toward the near end of the line of catapults and ballistae.
Ahead and to the left, Adriko turned inexorably back toward the main battle. Behind, the hillmen were sweeping forward like a tide of death. All around Talaos, disorganized groups of enemy irregulars milled about in confusion. A larger group of mixed infantry and cavalry began to form up and turn his way. They had a young captain at their head in the uniform of Kyras.
Talaos shouted, thundering across the plain.
"You're on the wrong side! Maxano fights for Kyras! Do you fight for the Prophet?"
The officer looked as if uncertain how to react. He paused. Then, with sudden decision, he threw down his arms and rode hard their way. Many of his men did likewise. Others behind them scowled.
One tough-looking fellow shouted, voice faint in the distance, "I fight for the Pr
ophet!"
Talaos spoke to the young officer as he approached, "Find Warlord Kurvan and give him your surrender. We'll welcome any man who swears he doesn't serve the Prophet!"
The man nodded as he rode on, with his rag-tag troops behind him.
Ahead was the man who'd said he fought for the Prophet, and around him were swiftly gathering dozens more. These men had announced their true loyalty. Talaos felt wrath rise within. He decided to make an example and an impression. He sheathed his sword and raised his open hands again. He summoned his anger and his power.
He focused.
Power gathered in his hands.
Lightning cracked in the air before them and arced in blazing lines at the enemy. Flashing light, fire and death followed. The ringleader and dozens around him fell with burning skin and smoke rising from their blackened eyes and mouths.
Then Talaos and his Wolves rode past the disoriented survivors.
Talaos shouted his challenge again, over and over, "Quarter and welcome for all who give oath against the Prophet!"
Routing soldiers began to surrender, all around. Others, in ones and twos, or small groups, fought on. Some of these shouted words in support of the Prophet, or called curses on Talaos as they fought. Others did battle in grim silence, stood their ground and died as men.
Before him, growing closer, the enemy archers and artillery waited ready. Some ballistae and catapults wheeled to face Adriko and Kurvan's onrushing tide. Talaos grimly wondered whether they were willing to fire among their own men to strike his. Among the enemy main body, he could see activity as small groups of men detached to deal with his threat.
He could hear activity of another sort in the camp of the Prophet, behind the artillery and surrounded by a small reserve and rearguard. The thousands of Avrosan exiles, and other followers or emissaries of the Prophet in civilian garb, sang in a close mass. They swayed together as they sang, and their united voices carried far on the wind.
Farther to the right, enemy light cavalry wheeled and raced to help against Adriko. The heavy cavalry, however, seemed to be staying put, as if waiting for something. As he gazed beyond them, Talaos could see why. There on the shore, enemy galleys had landed at the shore while larger ships had launched boats. From them all, hundreds of soldiers were disembarking. His small navy had been driven back.
Tescani and Drevan would soon be surrounded.
All around the followers of the Prophet, the singers at the camp in their thousands, a faint green light began to flicker, visible even in the sunshine.
5. Gift and Sacrifice
Talaos and Honor hurtled toward the waiting enemy. Behind him were the Madmen and the Wolves. Their horses had been at a gallop through much of the battle, and would soon tire. They had to do this first. They had to succeed.
They passed the last of the routing irregulars and broken enemy cavalry. Some tried to surrender to him as he passed. He knew Adriko and Kurvan had more than enough men handle things. Ahead, the enemy had shifted a company of heavy spearmen to guard the flank of the archers and artillery. The nearer companies of archers themselves now faced his way and readied their bows. Further off, enemy light cavalry rode hard their way.
Two enemy ballistae and a catapult turned their way and fired.
Bolts the size of spears and a stone half the size of a man came flying their way.
One of the bolts fell short. The other skewered a horse, it tumbled, and one of his Wolves went flying forward. The man crashed to the ground with shattered limbs. The catapult stone hurtled just behind the rearmost of his Wolves and hit the ground with an explosion of earth.
Talaos snarled in sudden anger and called upon his inner storm once more.
He extended his right arm, focusing power through his body and into his hand. He unleashed a long, single bolt of lightning. It arced far across the plain, beyond the range of anything else but its target, and struck the ballista that had downed his Wolf.
The machine shattered in a spray of fire and splintered wood. Men fell back, roaring and screaming with burned, bloody faces. The crews of the other two siege engines stayed at their posts, reloading. Behind them, the rest of the artillery still faced the main line of Talaos's army.
Three hundred archers drew their bows, aiming at Talaos, his Madmen and Wolves. A hundred enemy spearmen set themselves with round shields in a wall in front of the archers.
Talaos still raged with the storm. His storm.
He stretched his right hand, and a long bolt of lightning arced across the plain.
It struck the front line of spearmen. Electricity blasted through shields and armor, and out the backs of dying men. He swept his hand in a line to the right, sending charred corpses flying. Then he swept back again, aimed further back, cutting through ranks of archers.
Bowmen nearby ducked aside to avoid death, or fell backwards as bodies flew into them. Disorder spread through their ranks. Those further off held fast and prepared for the moment he'd be in range. It wouldn’t be long now.
His eyes flashed with lightning, and it arced in his hand. He swept his line of lightning across the ranks of archers, and back again. Some men at last began to break, backing off in fear or dropping to the ground. A few turned to run. Many fired too soon, in anger, frustration, or panic, and dozens of arrows fell harmlessly to the ground before him.
Then the rest unleashed their bows. A hundred arrows flew across the plain and landed among Talaos and his men. Some struck him, though he paid them little mind. There were shouts of pain and screams of horses. Here and there, Wolves toppled or horses tumbled.
Imvan and his bowmen returned fire. They systematically picked off not the archers, but the guarding spearmen. Arrows found gaps in armor above or below shields, or went through the open faces of helms.
Now they were drawing into javelin range.
"Men! Draw javelins!" roared Talaos.
A hundred men drew them as one.
Another ballista bolt soared across and ran a Wolf through at the shoulder. He went flying backward off his horse in a spray of blood. Then a catapult stone flew their way. It crashed to earth in front of Talaos, bounced, and rolled toward him. No time to wheel, he thought. He gripped his horse tightly, and it made a mighty leap over the stone.
While in the air, Talaos shouted, "Throw!"
He sent his javelin launching like a thunderbolt into the nearest remaining spearmen. The soldier toppled backward with electricity arcing from his shattered ribs. The other javelins fell among spearmen and archers, throwing their surviving ranks into disorder.
Then the storm reached his foes.
The Madmen and Wolves hurtled into the broken ranks of the enemy, weapons stabbing, slashing, and crushing all around them. They smashed their way through the remnants of the spearmen and the companies of archers. Enemy officers shouted. Other archers, further down the line, turned to face them, but hesitated to fire amid the chaos of their own men.
The enemy's forces on this end of their artillery line were broken in disorder. Behind, Talaos heard Adriko shout, followed by a great shout from his four thousand men. With that, the hillmen began roaring anew, and the combined force came charging at the exposed enemy flank.
To what was now Talaos's right, back toward his own army and Avrosa, Hadrastus gave a mighty shout, and his picked force of shock troops began to advance. Further ahead of Talaos, the enemy's other force of light cavalry had come from the far end of the field to counter his advance. They now formed up before the camp of the Prophet, and prepared to charge his way.
"Men! At the artillery!" he shouted. His Madmen and his Wolves advanced forward ahead of him amid the press of siege equipment. They dismounted to fight. The lightly armed crews retreated. Archers attempted to reposition and began firing sporadically at them. Arrows glanced off the great beams of the siege artillery. Now thought Talaos, he and his men had some cover.
Talaos was still mounted. He went hurtling toward the next body of archers. He judged the distance, st
ood up in the stirrups, then climbed to the back of his horse. Few but Honor would have accepted it without surprise or panic. Then Talaos vaulted forward. He hurtled through the air. Archers fired wildly at him. He felt arrows glance off his armor and helm. One pierced his thigh, and others ripped his skin, though he paid them no heed.
Power coursed through his body. He drew his swords in midair as power arced and crackled along the blades. He landed, whirling among the archers with scything blades. He spun and cut. A man fell without a right leg, another without his head, and a third cut clean in half at the waist. He dodged a sword and brought his own short blade up through an archer's light chain shirt and then through his ribs. He pulled the sword, spinning, and kicked the man backwards into a group of his comrades with such force that they went flying, too.
Then he remembered the arrow in his leg and ripped it out with a spatter of blood. Behind him at a distance, Honor trotted serenely as if merely enjoying the sunshine. The Madmen slew and burned their way down the line of siege equipment. The Wolves spread out behind and around, driving the now-broken archers before them.
The enemy light horse were bearing down on them, but now Adriko and his far more powerful force were not far away. Kurvan's men came behind Talaos's troops, roaring and howling in battle, offering surrender, and slaying all who chose to fight.
The enemy main body, thousands of heavy infantry, took notice. They would have closed to make short work of Talaos and his little vanguard if not for two problems of their own. The first was that behind Talaos, to the south, Hadrastus had reached their right flank with his shock force. The huge, heavily armored footmen wielding great axes, mattocks, and two-handed swords, were already wreaking havoc. The second was that the main body of Talaos's army now advanced in oblique order, with cohorts marching forward to support Hadrastus against those enemy cohorts bereft of archer and artillery support.
The Storm's Own Son (Book 3) Page 6