We waited for about another half hour. Then, just as the sun was coming up, I called to Belkira.
"Have him try it again, brother," I said.
Brand blew his horn again, and Cho-Ram and Mandor answered.
Then we waited. Still no sound from Beldin. I could have called out to him, but Zedar certainly would have heard me, and, far more important, he'd have heard my twisted brother's reply, and that would have pinpointed Beldin's location. If he were still several leagues away, Zedar might decide to attack, either to the east or the north, and that'd have started things before I was ready.
Nadraks, as I said, are high-strung people, and Yar Lek Thun reached the point that he absolutely had to know what was going on. He sent a cavalry troop pounding toward the woods to the north. They galloped in among the trees about a half mile from where Pol and I waited.
Most of their horses came back after a while, but none of the Nadraks did. It's not a good idea to ride into a forest where Asturian archers are lying in wait.
Then, probably not to be outdone, since Murgos don't much care for Nadraks, Ad Rak Cthoros also sent out scouts. The Murgo horsemen rode up into the foothills to the east.
They didn't come back, either. Riding into the teeth of Algarian cavalry is almost as stupid as riding in among trees where Asturians are hiding.
We kept on waiting. After another half hour or so, I tried once more.
"Have him tootle again, Belkira," I sent out the thought.
"Tootle?" Belkira sounded slightly offended, but Brand tried it again.
Cho-Ram and Mandor answered immediately, and then after a moment that seemed to last for a year or so, a veritable fanfare of trumpets replied from the west. It was probably excessive, but some of those legions were ceremonial troops from the garrison in Tol Honeth, and I guess there were a couple of military bands in their ranks.
That was what I'd been waiting for.
"Sit tight, Pol," I told my daughter.
"I'm going to go have a look. I don't want to start anything until I've seen for myself that Beldin's in place."
"Don't be too long, father. The morning's wearing on, and I don't think we want Brand to issue his challenge after the sun goes down."
I spread my wings and swooped down off my limb to gain momentum, and then I started up into the air, flapping vigorously.
When I got up a couple hundred feet, I could see just about everything.
Eldrig's war-boats were moored to the north bank of the River Arend no more than a couple of miles downstream from Vo Mimbre. The high water had slowed their progress upriver, but it had also made it possible for them to row over the shallows that lie some distance west of the city. If he'd really wanted to, Beldin could have rowed right up to the south wall of Vo Mimbre itself.
The legions, their burnished breastplates glinting in the morning sun, were spread out impressively, and they were marching in perfect order as they advanced on the Nadraks and Thulls. Eldrig's berserkers weren't marching. They were running on ahead of the legions. Chereks hate sharing a good fight with anybody.
"All right, Belkira." I passed the word.
"Tell Brand to give the signal."
This time Brand blew his horn twice. Cho-Ram answered in the same way. Mandor, however, almost blew his heart out. The note from his horn went on and on and on.
Then the gates of Vo Mimbre crashed open, and the knights came charging out.
The charge of the Mimbrate knights is probably the most famous cavalry charge in history, so I don't really need to describe it in detail, do
I?
I probably couldn't give you a very good description anyway, because something else caught my eye just then. Kal Torak's black iron pavilion was in the center of the horde, and I saw a raven spiraling up from one of its spires. I was fairly certain it wasn't an ordinary raven. Either Zedar wanted to see the Mimbrates for himself, or he'd concluded even as I had that the best place to direct a battle was from over the top of it.
There was a surprise waiting for him, though. Far above the battlefield, a single white speck plummeted down toward the raven that was spiraling upward. That particular form of attack is highly unusual for the snowy owl, and no ordinary owl should have been out hunting in the daytime. . . .
There was a puff of black feathers when the owl struck, and Zedar fled, squawking in terror.
Kal Torak's Malloreans were good soldiers, I'll give them that much, but nobody could have met the charge of those Mimbrate knights. I'd estimate that there were at least ten thousand of them. The front ranks charged with leveled lances, and the crash when they struck the Malloreans was thunderous. So far as I could tell, the charge didn't even falter as the front ranks of the Malloreans were ridden under.
We'd spent months discussing this particular tactic at the Imperial War College in Tol Honeth. The charge of the Mimbrate knights had one purpose and one only: it was designed to keep the Malloreans in place so that they couldn't rush to the aid of the armies on their flanks. Mimbrates are enthusiasts, though, and Mandor, who led the charge, gave every indication that he fully intended to ride up to Kal Torak's iron pavilion and start banging on his door.
There were casualties among those knights, of course, but not as many as you might expect. I guess full body armor has its good points, after all. Even beyond that, though, the ferocity of the charge demoralized the Malloreans. They hadn't expected it, for one thing, since there was no real reason for it. Vo Mimbre had stood like a rock in the face of two days of furious assaults, and there was no cause to believe that this day would be any different. We'd taken that element of surprise into our planning. The startled Malloreans gave way as the Mimbrates charged right into their faces, and the charge cut a wide swath through their ranks.
"Father!" Polgara's voice sounded inside my head.
"Zedar's trying something else! He just came out of the pavilion again!"
"Which way's he going?"
"East. He's taken the form of a deer."
"I'll chase him back." I veered off toward the Murgo lines and saw Zedar running swiftly through the red-armored ranks. I've never really understood why he chose that form. He knew what my favorite form was, and taking the form of a deer wasn't the best choice he could have made.
I got out some distance ahead of him, settled to earth among the foothills, and went wolf. He was running hard when he approached the place where I was concealed, bounding up the hill with his antlers flaring above his head. He stopped abruptly when I stepped, snarling, out from behind a clump of bushes. He tried to dodge around me, but that didn't work. I was just too close to him. Zedar's day wasn't going at all well.
I didn't really try to kill him, though I suppose I could have. I bit him a number of times in some fairly sensitive spots, and he turned and bolted back toward the Murgo lines. It's not really a good idea to turn your back on a wolf. I ran along behind him savaging his hindquarters as he fled. He wouldn't be sitting down very much when he resumed his own form. I made sure of that.
I broke off the chase when I was a hundred yards or so from the Murgo lines, and then I trotted back up into the hills.
"Beltira," I called the twin who was with Cho-Ram and Rhodar, "the Mimbrates are fully engaged now. You'd better come on down here and distract the Murgos."
"If you wish," he replied, and a moment later Cho-Ram's trumpet signaled the charge. There was a thunder of hooves as the Algar cavalry closed the distance between the place where they'd lain concealed during the night and the Murgo lines. I'd taken cover among a cluster of boulders, and I watched Cho-Ram lead his horsemen down the hill to engage the Murgos.
The Algar tactics were quite a bit different from those of the Mimbrates.
Heavy cavalry rushes in to crush the enemy, but light cavalry slashes at him. Ad Rak Cthoros had his own cavalry units of course, but they were no match for the Algars. Soon there was a running battle taking place out in front of the Murgo lines, and the Murgo horsemen were definitely coming out secon
d best. Then, when the mounted Murgos were badly out of position, Rhodar arrived with his pike men and Brasa's Ulgo irregulars were artfully concealed among their ranks. The combination worked out quite well. You really can't get too close to a man with a twenty-foot-long pike, and keeping him from slicing you to pieces with it is going to take all your attention. The Ulgos are a short-statu red people, and they move very quickly, as a large number of Murgos found out that day. Ulgo weapons are very unpleasant things. There are a lot of hooks and saw-edges involved in them. A wave of screaming rose from the Murgo ranks, since those Ulgo knives aren't designed to kill people instantly. Ulgo s probably hate Angaraks even more than Alorns do, so they tend to take their time killing Murgos. The Murgos they killed were only incidental, though. Brasa's instructions were to take his people through the Murgo front and to deal with Grolims. We'd provided the Ulgos with black, hooded robes, and that permitted them to move around among the Murgos almost at will. If Zedar grew desperate enough, he'd probably try to call on the priests of Torak to assist him in breaking the rules. Brasa was making sure that when he tried that, not very many Grolims would be around to answer the call.
I watched from the top of that outcropping of boulders, and when I saw that the Murgos were fully engaged, I sent my thought out in search of Beldin.
"Where are you?" I called to him.
"About a half mile from the Nadrak lines," he replied.
"The Chereks are already working on them."
"You might as well take Cerran's legions in. The Mimbrates have got the Malloreans pinned down, and Cho-Ram and Rhodar have got the Murgos' full attention on this side. It's time to hit the Nadraks and Thulls. See if Cerran can break through them with some of his legions. I think the Mimbrates could use some help."
"I'll get right on it."
"Polgara!" I said then.
"I'm busy, father. Don't pester me."
"What are you doing now? I told you to stay out of this!"
"I'm at Torak's pavilion. We ought to know what he and Zedar are up to."
"Get away from there, Poll It's too dangerous!"
"I know what I'm doing, father. Don't get so excited. What did you do to Zedar? He's limping around and groaning."
"I nipped him a few times. Is feeling sorry for himself about all he's doing?"
"No. He's trying to persuade Torak to go outside and take command of his army. He isn't having much luck, though. Torak refuses to move."
"He's probably waiting for Brand's challenge. I don't suppose there's anything I can say to persuade you to get away from there, is there?"
"I'm perfectly fine, father."
"Torak probably can hear you, Pol."
"He can't hear a thing, it's taken care of. He can't see me, and he can't hear me. I'll let you know when he decides to come out."
I muttered a few swear words, but my heart wasn't really in it. The fact that Polgara was practically in the same room with Torak and Zedar gave us an enormous advantage. I trotted back in among the boulders and slipped into the form of my falcon again.
You wouldn't believe how well you can direct a battle when you're flying over the top of it. We were coming at Torak's forces from all sides now--except from the north. I didn't want to spring that little surprise on Zedar until after he'd committed his reserves. I wanted the Angarak armies fully engaged before I brought in the Rivans, Sendars, and Asturians. Their situation was grave at the moment, but it wouldn't grow desperate until Cerran's legions broke through the Nadraks and Thulls to attack the Mallorean right.
There's always a lot of confusion during a battle, and this was probably the biggest battle in history. Our years of planning and preparation were beginning to pay off. The Angaraks were confused, but we knew exactly what we were doing and what was going to come next. All the Angaraks could do was to try to respond.
"Belgarath!" It was Beltira.
"Ad Rak Cthoros is down."
"Is he dead?"
"Not yet, but he's working on it. He's got an Ulgo knife in his belly."
"Good. Stay on top of his Murgos. I want them to break and run, if you can possibly manage it." I glanced off to the west. The legions were methodically chopping their way through the Nadraks, and the Thulls were already fleeing.
"The legions are starting to break through," I reported to Beltira.
"If you can break the Murgos, Zedar's going to have to commit his reserves, and that's what I'm waiting for."
I'm probably not the best general in the world, but I had certain advantages at Vo Mimbre. I was several hundred feet above the battle, so I could see everything that was going on. I was also in constant contact with my brothers, so I could exploit anything that happened down below.
To top it all off, Polgara could keep me advised of everything Kal Torak and Zedar could come up with to counter what we were doing to them.
With those advantages, any sergeant could have directed the Battle of Vo Mimbre. I think that when you get right down to it, we won the battle at the Imperial War College in Tol Honeth long before our advance forces even started to march. Planning--that's all it really takes. You might want to make a note of that before you declare war on somebody. I've spent centuries trying to pound that notion into the heads of any number of very thick-skulled Alorns.
The charge of the Mimbrate knights had slowed by now. After the Malloreans' initial dismay had passed, their resistance stiffened and elements of their army had flanked the knights and closed in behind them.
The tide of that part of the battle was inexorably turning. The Mimbrates were surrounded now, and their horses were nearing exhaustion. Their lances had long since been shattered, and they'd fallen back on their broadswords and battle-axes. Their numbers were being whittled down gradually, and Mandor had been forced to draw his men into that circle that usually signals the beginning of what is romantically called "the last stand." Arendish poets love to describe last stands. It gives them the opportunity to extol lavishly unspeakable bravery and to exaggerate outrageously the exploits of individual knights. The outcome is almost always the same, however. The standees ultimately are swarmed under. It makes for exciting poetry, but from a tactical standpoint, it's a futile and useless waste of lives.
"Beldin!" I shouted.
"I need those legions! Now! The Mimbrates are surrounded! If they go under, you're going to be neck deep in Malloreans!"
"We're coming, Belgarath! Keep your feathers on!"
I've never fully understood the significance of some of the tactics of Tolnedran Legions. Quite often it appears to me that their changes of formation would be more appropriate for a parade ground than a battlefield.
Cerran had been advancing on a broad front with about forty legions.
He issued a few sharp commands, which were passed on by some great-voiced sergeants, and his force rapidly coalesced into a solidly massed spearhead. The Nadraks had been spread out to face a more generalized advance, and they simply could not respond fast enough to that sudden change of formation. The legions, their shields interlocked, advanced at a trot, cutting through the Nadrak lines like a hot knife slicing through butter. Once they were through the Nadraks, they came at the Mallorean rear, since the Malloreans had been concentrating on Mandor's knights. In a matter of minutes the legions and the knights had joined forces.
There wasn't any last stand that day.
To make Kal Torak's situation even more desperate, the Chereks had exploited the corridor Cerran had cut through the Nadraks and had joined with the growing force in the very center of the Mallorean army, and the Murgo lines were beginning to break on Torak's left.
At that point Zedar didn't have any choice but to commit his reserves, and that's what I'd been waiting for. I held off for about a quarter of an hour to give the Angarak reserves enough time to rush down from their positions just to the north of the main battlefield. I wanted Torak's rear only lightly defended, and I also wanted to give Rhodar's pike men time to break through the crumbling Murgo lines to
link up with my main force. The death of Ad Rak Cthoros had broken the Murgos' spirit, and their resistance grew less and less effective. Finally the Drasnians crashed through, and the Algar cavalry kept the Murgos from closing ranks behind them.
"All right, Belkira," I sent out the thought.
"You can join us now."
Brand sounded a single long note on his horn, and I waited--a little anxiously, I'll admit. Then the edge of those woods on the north side of the plain suddenly began to erupt Rivans, Sendars, and Asturian archers.
They were coming very fast, and there weren't any Angarak forces on that side of the plain to slow them down.
"Father!" Polgara's voice was a little shrill.
"Torak's coming out!"
"Of course he is, Pol," I replied.
"That was the whole idea." I said it quite calmly, as if I had never had any doubts at all. That was a pose, of course. I was far enough up in the sky above the battlefield so that she couldn't see me--at least not clearly enough to see my wild triumphant swoops of sheer exultation. I'm fairly certain that she couldn't hear any shrill cries of triumph, either. Our desperate strategy had worked!
Zedar's reserves had not yet engaged, and after a few moments of confusion, they turned and tried desperately to run back to defend their former positions. By then, however, the Asturians were close enough to intercept them with a solid wall of arrows, and the Rivans and Sendars were charging down to meet them head on.
Kal Torak's original strategy had been to crush us between two armies.
Now the tables had been neatly turned. His army was in the middle, and mine was coming at him from both sides. The Malloreans were trapped, the Thulls had run away, and the Murgos and Nadraks were demoralized and largely out of action. I had him! Then I suddenly knew what I was supposed to do.
"All right, Pol," I called to my daughter, "get out of there. It's time for you and me to join Brand."
"What?"
"We're supposed to be with him during the EVENT."
"You've never told me about that."
"I didn't know about it until just now. Don't dawdle, Polgara. We don't want to be late."
Rivan Codex Series Page 64