by Peter Kenson
The officer’s horse had barely turned before Bern’s arrow took him full in the back, the steel bodkin easily penetrating the chain mail at that range. Shouts of anger went up from the watching horsemen as the man crashed to the ground and lay still. The two archers dug their heels in and threw their horses into a gallop as a volley of flaming arrows arced overhead and dived into the lines of their comrades.
The result was utter pandemonium as the front line of horsemen who thought they were safely out of range, tried to turn their mounts only to be blocked by the lines behind them. The two archers who had accompanied the officer were heading through the gates of the caravanserai when Bern took one of them down and a second volley of fire arrows flew into the massed target. The grass was starting to smoulder now both from arrows that missed a target and bodies who crashed to the ground in flames. The horses were panicking from the smell of the fire and riders were struggling to control them as the rearmost lines began to pull back.
A third volley of fire arrows struck home but this time caused fewer casualties as gaps opened up in the target ranks. Bern released one more aimed shot at the horsemen fleeing into the mist before giving the order to cease fire. David turned to Jeren who was standing at his shoulder.
“Your eyes are keener than mine. How did we do?”
“I can count twenty three bodies outside, some of them still twitching, plus the two in the caravanserai. That’s given them a bloody nose.”
David shook his head. “Twenty five casualties out of more than three hundred. It might irritate them but it hasn’t weakened them. And now we’ve lost the element of surprise.”
“What do you think they will do now?”
“That is the big question, my prince. This mist is not helpful to us at the moment. Kraxis is not going to want to attack the walls but, in this mist, he can’t see any other target. I think we had better look to our defences.”
The attack was not long in coming. Kraxis split his force to assault the walls to both left and right of the gates. The mounted bowmen formed a Cantabrian circle along the face of the walls, shouting insults and firing into the embrasures as they passed, forcing the defenders to stay hidden. Under cover of the hail of arrows, other riders approached the walls with grappling irons which they threw up to hook over the battlements.
The defenders frantically tried to unhook the grapples or hack through the attached ropes but that exposed them to the arrows coming through the openings and several fell back with cries of pain, to be hastily pulled out of the way by the others. The women were using the braziers now to heat small cooking pots of oil or sand and these were poured on the heads of the climbers, adding screams of agony to the general tumult.
A few warriors made it to the top of the walls but not in sufficient numbers to form a fighting unit and the individuals were swiftly dealt with by the defenders. And then suddenly the attack was over. The circling bowmen broke off and galloped away leaving the remnants of the assault force underneath the walls trying desperately to catch their horses and follow them. Most of the stragglers did not make it to safety as, without the hail of incoming arrows, the archers on the walls could take time to aim their shots.
David and Jeren climbed back to the top of the tower to better see the wider battlefield. Kraxis had lost many more men in that attack but the defenders had suffered casualties as well. They could see wounded being treated up and down the length of the wall and several who were obviously past receiving any treatment.
The sun was finally starting to burn through the mist and the circle of wagons on the far side of the river was now visible to Kraxis. The mist was still thick on the actual river, however, and Jorgen’s fortifications could not be made out, even from the top of the tower. Kraxis kept most of his force back, facing the town but sent a group of fifty riders to investigate the wagons. They trotted down the trail to the ford and stopped at the water’s edge as the defences on the far side came into view.
A rider was sent back to report as the others walked slowly into the water. The ford was a full hundred paces across and Jorgen let them get halfway before ordering his archers to fire. Six men went down in that first volley although at a distance it was impossible to tell if they had been hit directly or simply thrown by horses rearing in agony. The remainder of the group returned fire before turning their horses back to the near bank. Although the water was not deep, it hampered their ability to move fast and Jorgen’s archers released another two volleys before they reached the safety of dry land.
The mist was thinning quite rapidly under the increasing power of the sun and David could see bodies floating downstream towards the falls that gave the town its name. Kraxis shouted some orders and the bulk of the horsemen began to move towards the river leaving only about forty men facing the town.
David sent Bern and his archers round the walls to the closest point to the ford. It was still extreme range but they might get in a lucky shot. He also ordered the signal flags raised above the gatehouse towers and hoped that the visibility was good enough for Ash and Feynor to spot them.
“Time to go, my lord,” David said as he signalled the men to mount up and led the way down from the tower to join them. With all the numbers deployed elsewhere, there were only twenty riders in the group. David took the centre of the line with Jeren to his right and Baltur beyond him. To his left, the young swordsmen Seb had pushed his way forward to ride at his shoulder with Carl outside him, cradling his battle axe.
They waited for the signal from the walls, that Kraxis had committed his main force to the attack across the ford and then opened the gates and rode out. They were spotted almost immediately but the enemy commander was still cautious about the range of the longbows on the walls and held his position with his swordsmen in the second rank behind the bowmen.
When they came within range of the enemy short bows, David gave the order to raise shields and led the charge. The bowmen fired two rapid volleys of arrows and then retreated behind the line of swordsmen. David sensed rather than saw, riders go down on either side of him and cries of pain mingled with the war cries from both groups as they came together in a clash of steel. The bowmen discarded their bows to draw swords and axes and in what was obviously a rehearsed manoeuvre, circled around to attack from both sides.
In the centre of the line, David’s katana and the blue glowing blade that Jeren carried, cut a path all the way through to the far side. As they turned to come back, they could see Carl wielding his battle axe in both hands, in the centre of a maelstrom of destruction. The enemy officer was trying to rally his men but was knocked from his horse by a swing of the great axe. He struggled back to his feet, only to be cut down as Seb and Baltur charged in together and the enemy broke.
With the loss of their commander, the horsemen were on the defensive; desperately trying to fight their way to the edge of the melee and break free. Only a handful made it, fleeing from the rout in all directions. David gave orders to let them go and regrouped his now even smaller force.
Down at the ford, the battle had reached a critical point. Jorgen’s archers had sent more bodies floating down the river and many more had died on the stakes and spear points when they reached the earthworks. But the sheer weight of numbers was threatening to overwhelm the defences and Jorgen gave the order to form square with the remaining archers in the centre.
Shouts of triumph went up from the horsemen as they saw the defenders abandoning the earthworks and they pushed forward again, urging their horses to clamber over the bodies of their fallen comrades. Because of the casualties on the ramparts, the square was small with barely twenty men to a side but it still presented a difficult target for the horsemen. Seeing this, Kraxis ordered a group of bowmen to keep circling the square and urged the rest of his men on to attack the wagons.
To the surprise of everybody except Jorgen and his men who had practised the manoeuvre many times, the square started to move back towards the wagons without breaking formatio
n. The circle of wagons itself, was holding well until a couple of horsemen attached grapples to the side of one of them and pulled it over to create a gap. Jorgen turned the square towards the overturned wagon to block the gap but several horsemen had already broken through by the time they arrived.
On the other side of the river, David looked down the trail to where Ash and Feynor were involved in a skirmish with some of the horsemen fleeing the earlier fight. They would not now arrive in time to influence the main battle.
“It looks as though it’s down to us, my lord,” David said pointing out the skirmish on the trail. “Time to get our hands dirty again.”
“But if that’s Feynor on this side of the river,” Jeren replied, “what’s that dust cloud on the far bank?”
David stood in the stirrups to get a better view. There was a troop of about twenty horsemen, kitted out as ducal soldiers and charging in a military wedge formation. The leading swordsman looked vaguely familiar.
“Some of Duke Theron’s men?” Jeren suggested.
“No, that’s that young swordsman from Paelis. The one we released to go and fetch his family. What was his name? Fran? Let’s get over there and give him a hand.”
By the time they picked their way through the remaining fortifications, the tide of the battle had turned. The impact of Fran’s troop had driven many of the horsemen against the side of Jorgen’s square and the screams of the injured and dying filled the air. Kraxis gathered what was left of his men and tried to re-cross the ford only to run into David and Jeren.
There was a small knot of bodyguards around the enemy warlord and Jeren made straight for them, his blue blade glittering dangerously in the morning sun. The bodyguards all had shields and at least some armour but the blade cut through them like a warm knife through butter. As the last bodyguard went down before him, Kraxis gave a shout of fury and reared his warhorse at Jeren.
Jeren’s horse stumbled under the force of the blow, throwing the young prince to the ground and dislodging the sword from his grip. He lay there winded for a moment as Baltur forced his way between them only to be knocked from the saddle himself by the strength of Kraxis’ strike. Jeren climbed back to his feet and was forced to duck as another slash whistled a hair’s breadth over his head. He took advantage of a moment’s distraction as Seb crashed his horse into the side of the warlord, to recover his sword and take guard.
Kraxis was rapidly proving to be a difficult opponent whose skill matched anything the young fighters had ever seen. He and Seb were trading blows on horseback while Jeren and Baltur circled around the dancing horses, looking for an opening. The ground underfoot was treacherous with the blood of the fallen and Baltur slipped and fell over the corpse of one of Jorgen’s halberds men. Snatching up the weapon with its extended reach, he aimed a wild swipe at Kraxis, missing the main target but tangling the hook in the warlord’s shield arm. The pull on his arm half-turned Kraxis and Seb’s next strike took him full in the chest. Horse and man went down together and before he could recover, Jeren ran in to bring his sword down on the warlord’s neck, neatly severing his head from his shoulders.
With the death of their commander, all resistance crumbled and the horsemen broke away in all directions. Some made it across the ford only to run into Feynor and his men. Others headed for the relative safety of the open plains, scattering the herds of animals as they went.
Jeren walked over to help Baltur back to his feet and then bent down to pick up the severed head.
“It appears you have a trophy, my lord,” David remarked as he rode over. “You’d better have it preserved. We may need it as proof when we reach Marmoros.
“And well done to you two,” he added to Baltur and Seb. “You fought well there protecting Prince Jeren. Did you take any hurt, Baltur?”
“I’m going to be bruised from head to toe tomorrow, my lord. But other than that, I’m fine.”
Jeren threw an arm round his friend’s shoulder. “Bally’s got more than enough fat on him to cushion a little fall like that, my lord. I’m surprised he didn’t bounce.”
Baltur raised his arm at Jeren and winced as a pain shot through his shoulder.
“Better get some liniment rubbed on that,” David chuckled as the young swordsman, Fran, rode up.
“Well met, Fran. Your intervention was most timely. But where are your family?”
“A couple of hours behind us, my lord. One of my scouts reported the battle so we rode on ahead.”
“You’d better look to them now. Some of Kraxis’ men were heading in that direction.”
“I’ve sent some of my men after them, my lord. I persuaded a few friends to come with us to join you. That is, if you’ll still have us.”
“Have you! You’ll be more than welcome to join us, especially after today. I’m afraid the butcher’s bill for this action is going to be quite high. And here’s the man who’s borne the brunt of it.”
Jorgen came striding across the grass with a very grim expression and followed by Marta with tears streaming down her face. David slid down from his horse to face them.
“Marta, what’s wrong? Jorgen, report.”
“I’m sorry, my lord. We just couldn’t get across there fast enough to close the gap.”
“There are casualties among the families?”
Jorgen nodded wordlessly as the two of them stood there looking miserable. David lowered his voice and gently took hold of Marta’s arms. “Marta, tell me. Who has been injured?”
“It’s Leyla, milord. She took a spear full in the stomach. You’d better come quickly.”
Marta led the way into the circle of wagons where people stopped what they were doing and stepped aside to let them pass. They found Leyla lying with her head in Mo’s lap and a large crimson stain spreading around the edges of the dressings being pressed to her stomach. There were tears coursing down Mo’s face as she tidied her friend’s blond hair with her fingers.
David knelt beside her and took one of Leyla’s hands in his. At the touch, she opened her eyes and managed a weak smile.
“I’m sorry, David. I should have liked to have seen Marmoros.”
“And you will, my dear.” David looked up through his own tears to where Marta was standing. She shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Leyla,” David whispered. “I promised I would look after you and Mo. I haven’t done a very good job, have I?”
“Yes David…” She broke off to cough into a handkerchief that Mo held to her mouth. When it was taken away, he could see blood on it.
“You have done everything you promised and more.” She turned her head slightly to look up at Mo and then back at David. “We are both so very pleased we met you.”
She closed her eyes for the last time as a sigh escaped from her lips, taking her life with it. He learned over and kissed her on the forehead and the lips before turning to Mo and hugging her closely to him. He could feel her body shaking with sobs and their tears mingled together on their cheeks.
They held each other for a long moment before Mo pushed him away.
“You had better go, milord. You have other responsibilities today. I will make all the arrangements for the burial.”
“No, not a burial. We will take her with us to Marmoros. She wanted so much to see it. The least we can do is bury her there.”
David kissed a tear from one cheek and then from the other before standing up and looking round as if wondering what to do next.
“I think you could do with some company for the next few hours, milord,” Marta suggested.
He looked at her in surprise and a half smile crossed his face despite himself. “I don’t think I have ever seen you on a horse, Marta. Besides, there are things you need to do here.”
“I can ride. I just don’t normally choose to. And there are plenty of willing hands here, who can do what I do.”
“Then Marta, I should be very glad of your company for the next while. We can go to send Feyn
or on his way.”
“Oh he’s already left, milord. He sent me word. But I’ll come with you anyway.”
She looked round at the circle of onlookers. “Well don’t just stand there. Somebody find me a horse.”
Chapter 24
David and Jeren were riding at the head of the column as it wound through steep forested slopes with the background roar of the Savage River not very far away to their right. They followed the trail round a large outcrop of rock to find Ash and one of his scouts trotting towards them. David signalled the wagons to halt and sent Jaks to summon the officers.
“By the look on your face, Ash, you’ve got some good news for us. Did you get the patrols?”
“Got both of them, my lord,” Ash replied with a broad grin. “We have twenty seven prisoners, some of them a bit damaged, and six wagons absolutely loaded with supplies.”
“Casualties?”
“Feynor lost a man and there are six others being patched up. But I haven’t given you the good news yet.”
“There’s more? Let’s have it then. I’m in a mood for having some good news.”
Ash grimaced. “Yes, I was very sorry to hear about Leyla. She was a sweet girl.”
“Yes, she was and thank you. Now what’s this good news?”
“It’s the gates, my lord. They’re about an hour up the trail from here but they were open when we got there. Feynor suspected a trap of course. So he took a patrol of volunteers through the tunnel but found no-one. From the gates at the far end there’s stairs leading up to galleries on both sides of the tunnel with firing points and murder holes but the whole complex was absolutely deserted.”
“Where’s Feynor now?”
“He’s in the valley on the far side of the tunnel but we’ve posted enough guards on both sets of gates to hold them against attack from either direction.”
“What about the valley?”
“It’s huge and we haven’t explored it all but, so far, there’s no sign of any activity. Not even peasants in the fields. It’s a four hour ride up the length of the valley. A full day for a wagon. I’ve sent scouts up to the city at the top and they report that the gates are closed with a few men on the walls. But that’s as far as we’ve got, my lord.”