The rest of the men with horses stood in the rear of the army, where they would be plainly visible to the enemy once the battle was joined. This was necessary, since the Triols would be expecting to see the cavalry—Renek didn’t want them expecting the flanking maneuver. Additionally, it would discourage any flanking maneuvers by the Triols.
About two hundred infantry were ready to attempt the left flanking maneuver. They were hidden behind the hill, among some sparse trees about a quarter of a mile away. Fifty archers accompanied them. The foot soldiers were to leave their position as soon as they heard the sounds of fighting, and attack as soon as they arrived.
Back in the center, the remaining seven hundred or so men formed their line—swordsmen in front, and pikes behind—they could level their pikes at any oncoming horse charges. Bowmen were behind the pikes. Reserve swordsmen were behind them, since the valley between the brush-covered hills was too narrow for everyone to fight all at one time.
Hesiod gave the call, and the army moved out as a unit. Renek, who was watching from a distance, sitting on a horse with the knights, nodded approvingly at their discipline. It was hard to get people to move as a unit. Hesiod seemed to inspire confidence in his men, despite his lack of experience.
Renek saw dust rising from the valley beyond. The large Triol army was already marching. It would be a near thing for them to meet between the hills. He watched with a worried eye, but after a few minutes, he saw that the two armies would do battle where he had hoped.
He saw the Triol archers take to the hills, hundreds on each side of the advancing army. Soon, the sounds of battle came—the clash of sword on shield, the cries of wounded and dying men. His eyes turned to the infantry hidden in the trees.
They began to stream out in small groups, running to the side of the hill in fives and tens. Renek thought that he recognized Rimes when he ran with some men—he had a captain’s white armband around his left bicep. They formed up ranks in the scrub brush on the opposite side of the hill from the Triol archers. Renek had been correct; they stood low on the hillside, near the protection of their army. He nodded in satisfaction, realizing that their arrows would not have been able to reach the kingdom’s army had they stood at the tops of the hills.
The kingdom’s archers moved forward, spilling out to the sides of the footmen as they tried to show that kingdom arrows pierced just as well as Triol arrows. They were quickly driven back, though, since the Triol archers were higher and their arrows flew further.
Renek looked around him at the knights, and nodded. They nodded in return, and the group began to ride around their hill. They needed to be in place before the first flanking attack hit the Triol army.
It took only a few minutes to get in position. Two of the knights and Renek dismounted, climbing the hillside on foot, just to one side of the empty valley. They saw the main battle had been fully engaged; Hesiod’s flag flew near the front lines. The kingdom horsemen were wheeling about on their own army’s right side, across from the knights. They seemed to be trying to reach the archers—riding up the side of the hill, shields held over their heads. It only took a moment for Renek to understand why they were no longer on the battle plan: kingdom soldiers were dying by the score in the valley, as volley after volley of arrows fell into their midst.
Renek’s gaze was wrenched away, though, as he heard the yelling of the hundred foot soldiers, running into the Triol’s flank. They fought hard, but kept out of the range and even sight of the archers. Rimes’ armband was clearly visible in the front of the attack—and the enemy seemed to be cowed, a large group of them retreating. The Triol rear commander quickly tried to organize his troops, turning several lines of swordsmen to face the new threat. They began to beat their swords against their shields, rhythmically, as they advanced. The sound seemed to remind the retreating Triols that they outnumbered the enemy. They came to a halt, and turned to face the foot soldiers.
It was the perfect time for Renek’s attack.
Practice
Ryan and Kevin ran as fast as they could towards the water beast, swords drawn and swinging at their sides. They were careful to thread their way through the trees without touching them.
William glanced at them quickly while drew his sword and stood on guard, but Armand jumped past him with a yell. He slashed down, hard, and struck the creature. It shied back, bleeding a dark fluid; what color was impossible to say in the failing light of the flowers.
For the flowers had begun to die. Unexpectedly, there was a popping sound as each one’s stamen suddenly swelled and exploded pollen into the night air. The pollen glowed faintly for a few seconds as it floated out away from the flower, then faded into obscurity. The petals fell off and went dark just as quickly as the pollen.
William breathed in deeply, preparing to attack the water beast—and started to sneeze. Over and over, he sneezed. He staggered away from the water, reaching out to steady himself on a tree while he sneezed yet again.
The tree screamed. A high-pitched keening wail came out of it, and its branches came down, surrounding its trunk. William was caught inside of the living jail cell, still sneezing feebly.
The other two knights finally rushed around the corner of the island, swords drawn.
Meanwhile Armand hacked at the beast, clearly giving his all. He motioned to the squires and the other knights to stay back as he danced around the moss covered tree roots, avoiding the water creature’s strikes easily despite their speed.
Ryan swayed in place, standing in en guard. Kevin also looked as if he was about to attack, but Armand yelled at them to stay back.
Armand deftly swung his sword into the side of its jaw, causing the creature to cry out as ichor poured out of its mouth. The snout had eyes on top of it, near the back, and Ryan noticed that they were blinking in pain or anger from this latest cut.
Again and again, the beast attacked, and Armand continued to simply move out of its way, almost lazily swinging his sword into the beast’s hide over and over. However, as Armand cut again and again, he seemed to be inflicting less and less harm—the ichor seemed to be hardening into some form of natural armor.
The sound of hooves on the bridge came over the river. The other squires were finally moving in to help.
The beast attacked again, its tail splashing out of the water and whipping sideways, connecting with Armand’s head. He was knocked into the knights next to him, and everyone went sprawling. Armand was out cold. The creature moved in quickly, its jaws closing around Armand’s head and neck when Ryan leapt forward, again pulling Kevin along beside him.
“Hit its eyes!” He yelled, swinging his sword. He connected with the beast’s left eye, which popped open like the flowers had moments before. The creature screamed and went rigid—and that’s when Kevin’s sword came down on its other eye. Ichor and blood flew everywhere, and then the creature was gone, sliding back into the black water.
After a few seconds, Ryan realized that William was still trapped in the tree. He pried the knight free, who at least had stopped sneezing.
William knelt to look at Armand. “He is unhurt and will awaken shortly. I shall go and tend to Gregory.” He patted the pouch full of flowers. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Get the other squires back to camp immediately, we’ll be along soon.” Ryan began to protest, but the knight held up a hand. “No arguing. Events like these flowers blooming draw all sorts of creatures, but what’s done is done. We’ll be fine.” He pushed them towards the road. “Once Gregory is up, we’ll come back and get Armand meet you back at the camp. I’ll take two of those torches you have, though.
“Oh, and Ryan?” he said, as they came to the road. Ryan turned to look at him, holding his torch up, and saw William’s smile. “Good job.”
* * *
The squires mounted at the road and walked the horses back to the camp. The others mobbed them, the knights demanding to know what had happened to Gregory and the other knights. After some reassurance and a quick retelling of what
had happened, two knights leapt on their horses and galloped to the assistance of their injured brethren.
It was only a few moments later that they returned, having met Gregory and the others along the way.
Armand was seething. He searched the group of squires for Ryan, and once he found him, he jumped off of his horse and strode over to him.
“I told you to stay back!” he said forcefully. “Gregory told you to stay on the other side of the river!” He spat on the ground between them. “Explain why you violated two direct orders!”
Ryan was dumbfounded. He sputtered for a few seconds, but Kevin answered for him.
“Sir knight,” Kevin began, “His actions saved all of your lives. Why are you so angry?”
Armand wheeled to face Kevin. “Because, in our order, we follow orders!”
William was helping Gregory dismount; clearly Gregory’s injuries were worse than he had anticipated. Still, Gregory was well enough that he was glancing at Armand with concern.
Armand turned back to Ryan. “I don’t care if you think you saved our lives. There were two other knights there, they would have handled the situation. The chain of command is how we work, how the army works!” He sneered. “If you disobey me again, then I will not continue with you as my squire.” He spun on his heel and began to walk off.
“Well, then,” Gregory said, weakly but clearly, “I suppose he would have to become my second squire.” Armand stopped cold, and slowly turned around to look at Gregory.
“This lad potentially saved at least three knight’s lives,” Gregory continued. “He should be commended, not punished.”
Armand barked a laugh. “So this is how you discipline? Rewards, instead of punishment? It’s surprising that the unit hasn’t already fallen apart!”
Gregory limped over to Armand, and pushed his face close to Armand’s. “At the very least, the boy should be thanked. Whereas you attempted to fight the beast alone—with nearly drastic consequences for everyone around you—Ryan asked for, and received help…and your apprentice succeeded where you failed.” Armand looked like he had been physically slapped.
Gregory nodded, then turned to William and held his arm out. William assisted him in walking to his tent.
Ryan looked back at Armand, who was staring at him with such a look of hate that Ryan ducked his head and quickly walked towards the horses to brush them.
Armand stood in the middle of camp for a few seconds, frowning and sneering at anyone who would look at him. When he realized that no one would meet his angry gaze, he threw his pack of flowers down next to the fire and strode off to his tent.
* * *
After the ‘Gredarin incident’, Gregory made the squires spend time sparring every day in between their other duties. He drove them hard, asking them to practice even after a full day’s worth of riding. He held up Ryan’s quick action that ‘saved the day’ to discourage what little complaint there was. Being a lot prepared, he said, was more important than being a little tired.
Armand seemed to wince every time the ‘Gredarin incident’ was named, especially when Ryan was held up as a good example. His treatment of Ryan had worsened even further, if that was even possible. He seemed unable even to be civil, and loudly berated Ryan whenever something was wrong, regardless of if it was Ryan’s fault or not.
“I don’t know how you take it, Ryan,” Kevin said, sweat pouring down his face. He reached for a water skin, which was lying to the side of the area at the edge of the camp that the two were sparring in. He winced—Ryan had belted him on the arm in the last match, and it was beginning to hurt.
Ryan came over to drink, as well, tossing his practice sword to the ground beside them. Kevin handed him the skin, and continued.
“I mean, I don’t know what you can do, but Armand’s just getting worse and worse.” He frowned, his brows knitted together in concern.
Ryan wiped his mouth and lowered the water skin. “Well, it’s not like I have a choice.” His eyes narrowed as he remembered his village burning. “Gregory keeps saying that we’ll eventually get a chance to look for my townsfolk.”
Kevin shook his head again. “I doubt it. We’re on the way to the front, now that we’ve collected Sir William’s herbs. It doesn’t make sense. I think you should stand up for yourself.” He gestured to his bruised arm. “You’re the best at the sword among the squires.”
“I suppose.” He shrugged. “But that doesn’t mean that I can ‘stand up for myself.’ He’s my knight, Kevin. I’m his squire. He treats me however he wants. End of story.” He lifted one corner of his mouth in a half-smile. “I think I’m very lucky to be here, after all. I was a peasant, and now I’m a squire to one of the Crown Knights. This is better than tilling the same fields over and over again, right?”
Kevin sighed. “You know, I didn’t much like you at first, Ryan. You’re too good at what we do. Maybe I was jealous.” He shook his head yet again. “But you’re putting up with more than I would, and you have a good attitude about it.” He bent over and picked up Ryan’s practice sword, and held it out to him, hilt first. “Let’s see if I can damage some of that good attitude. I need to pay you back for my sore arm.”
Ryan grasped the hilt, grinning. They returned to the middle of their sparring circle, and squared off.
Ryan attacked first, moving swiftly in with a standard attack, sweeping his sword down from the upper right, aiming directly at Kevin’s neck. Kevin blocked it with his shield, while doing an identical counterattack. Ryan blocked it easily.
“If you two are going to sit and attack each other like grandmothers then why are you bothering to practice?” Armand interrupted from the edge of the clearing. The two squires lowered their weapons as he strode towards them. He reached out and took Kevin’s practice sword from him, then turned to face Ryan while Kevin took a step to the side.
“I’ve decided to take a bit more of a personal interest in your training, boy.” He motioned to Kevin, who unbuckled his shield and handed it over to Armand. “And from what I can see from how you’ve been sparring tonight, it’s a good thing.” He glanced at Kevin, and said, “Standard rules—best of three touches wins.” Then he buckled the shield onto his left arm, and straightened. He lifted his sword into a perfunctory salute before falling into a relaxed en guard stance.
Ryan saluted, then stood ready. Armand attacked immediately, and with full force. Ryan caught the attack on his shield, and counterattacked. Armand wasn’t going easy, though, and he moved fast enough to block Ryan’s attack with his sword. The two swords struck each other, deflecting Ryan’s out of the way while Armand used the rebound to speed his movements up, and landed a hard blow on Ryan’s leg.
“Point to Crown Knight Armand,” Kevin said. Armand nodded, and waited a moment while Ryan recovered and got back into en guard position.
That’s going to leave a big bruise. Ryan thought to himself. I wonder why he’s here—did Gregory tell him to come, or does he just want to beat me up? He shrugged, saluted, and went to en guard. Well, maybe I can give him a taste of his own medicine, then. Time to ‘stand up for myself.’
Armand attacked again as soon as Ryan was ready, coming in with another low attack at the same leg. Ryan stepped back just far enough for the sword to miss his legs, but kept his weight forward. As Armand swept his sword around to attempt an attack from the other side, Ryan let himself fall forward, bringing his sword down with all the speed and strength that he could muster. Armand caught the blow easily on his shield, but staggered a bit from the strength of the blow, which had Ryan’s whole body weight behind it.
Ryan pushed his shield out to impede the movement of Armand’s sword arm and pressed the attack. He rained blows down toward Armand’s head, shoulders, and legs. Armand was forced to back up. He was on the defensive, his sword arm held out useless by Ryan’s shield.
Finally, Armand lifted his sword up over Ryan’s shield and managed to attack. Ryan lithely stepped to the side. Armand had committed himself to
the blow and overbalanced when his sword didn’t strike his target. Ryan lightly struck the back of Armand’s head.
“Point to Squire Ryan. Sparring match stands tied at one point each.” Kevin couldn’t keep the glee out of his voice, which was unfortunate. Armand’s eyes were narrowed with hate and embarrassment.
Knight and squire squared off again. Armand attacked just as Ryan came to guard position again. This time, though, he used a thrust, directly at Ryan’s chest. Thrown off, Ryan reeled backwards, almost running, while Armand threw blow after forceful blow at Ryan’s head. Ryan managed to keep from being hit for several steps, but then tripped over an exposed root. Armand stepped on Ryan’s shield as it struck the ground, and landed a blow on Ryan’s temple. He then unbuckled his shield, and dropped both sword and shield next to Ryan. He then turned to look expectantly at Kevin.
“Uh…Point and match to Crown Knight Armand," he said apologetically.
Armand looked down at Ryan. “Did you expect me to let you win, boy? No mercy.” He smiled grimly. “We will spar every night, Ryan. Tomorrow you will stay in camp until we are done, I want everyone to watch us … train together.” He strode off toward the camp, not looking back.
Ryan sat up, head spinning from the direct blow to his head. They normally didn’t strike for the head, and so he had not been wearing a helmet. Armand hadn’t hit at full force, but he had hit hard enough for Ryan to be a bit disoriented. Kevin helped him stand up, and brought him some water.
“Well, that was … interesting,” Kevin said, eyebrows raised.
Ryan nodded. “At least I got a point on him.”
Kevin nodded, pondering. “You know…” he began, but shook his head.
Legend of the Swords: War Page 10