The wall had no doors or gates, yet armies before it could retreat behind by ascending the flanking hills and going around. Obviously an attacking army could do the same, but would funnel itself into two narrow approaches on climbing ground that could be targeted by artillery, archers, and ground defences alike. If the Regent's army came around the wall that way, they'd be annihilated by hellfire one rank at a time. But that did not mean any retreat by the defenders to move behind the wall would be a simple matter either.
Ahead, the valley was wide, at least a thousand paces, turning gradually to the right as it approached the mouth and the Ipshaal River. High to the left, on the bluff overlooking the valley mouth and river, Damon could see a gleaming silver rank of warriors—the Ilduuri Steel. There seemed to be fighting, but the distance made it hard to tell. Beyond the ridge black smoke rose, and burning artillery made arcs across the sky. Damon hoped Sasha's artillerymen had practised all their angles well in advance, and were not dropping rounds short as those confounded catapults were liable to do. He still did not trust those things, and less so since he'd seen a catapult crew die two days earlier when a round erupted prematurely. Though he also hoped that the Regent's crews were struggling to master what would be for them foreign and unfamiliar contraptions.
The approach toward the Ipshaal was cultivated farmland, broken with trees, fences, barns, and the Dhemerhill River itself. Strict formations would be difficult here. But that suited the Lenays far more than the Steel, or the Regent. Lenays were like serrin in that they loved to improvise—the more fluid the circumstance, the better it suited him.
“Andreyis,” he summonsed the lad, “first go and tell the Rhodaani commanders what we do here. Then get back to Sasha and tell her that as our attack should take much of the pressure off her front, I'd appreciate as much artillery as she can grant us.” Just because he didn't trust it, didn't mean he was fool enough to reject it where available.
Andreyis nodded. “She says you can do it,” he added. “You can see the whole battlefield from up there, and she's certain you can reach the river.”
He turned and galloped back toward the Rhodaanis. Damon wheeled his own entourage, and cantered to his command position at the rear. Across the valley floor, fourteen thousand Lenay fighting men ran or galloped to form their lines, and find their positions in the ranks. To the east, the Rhodaani Steel began to realise what was happening, and that Lenayin was preparing to charge. There arose from their ranks an almighty cheer and a clashing of sword on shield that stirred even Damon's sceptical soul.
When Errollyn reached Kessligh's perch overlooking the eastern Dhemerhill Valley, he was dejected.
“There are too many of them,” he said tiredly, waving a hand back across the valley. “We fared averagely against the Lenays the first time, but then came the Kazeri, and we dealt with them harshly as always, but then came the Torovans, and after that the Lenays again…”
“You did excellently,” said Kessligh. “I'd feared we may be overrun at this end, but you've held them up to reconsider their position. I could not ask for more.”
His command vantage was on a bluff several hundred paces beyond the easternmost of Jahnd's defensive walls. From here he could see all across the valley's rightwards twist, and the broad expanse of valley floor it created on Jahnd's entire right flank. Along the ridgelines here were arrayed a small portion of the Ilduuri Steel and a whole host of catapults and ballistas, the furthest upon bluffs and ridges several thousand paces up the valley.
Down below, and behind Kessligh's position, was the eastern-facing wall across the valley. Before it were arranged the Enoran Steel in huge, gleaming squares. Before them, now, were a great mass of cavalry—mostly Enoran and talmaad, having been driven back down the valley from its far end by the invaders.
The invaders now made an even greater mass across the valley beyond, stretching well to the east, darkening the green fields with the sheer weight of horseflesh. Almost entirely cavalry, their order of battle held the Army of Northern Lenayin first, the Army of Torovan second, and the Army of Kazeri last…though the Kazeri probably did not see it like that. Also down there somewhere, Kessligh reckoned, would be one or two thousand men from the Holy Army of Rhodaan, led by Alfriedo Renine himself. Though General Zulmaher, formerly of the Rhodaani Steel, would be in actual command. Something to bear in mind, if command were to change.
“Koenyg leads them?” he asked Errollyn.
“Almost certainly,” said Errollyn. He took a long swig from his water flask, dishevelled and sweaty in the warm sun. “The talmaad are strong. We have lost perhaps one in five, dead or wounded. The Enorans…” he made a face, “they fought bravely, perhaps too bravely. I wanted them to disengage more quickly. They only needed to tangle their enemies for a moment to present the talmaad with easy shots, but often they stayed too long. They did well against the Kazeri and Torovans, but by the time the Lenays attacked again, they were exhausted, and those fucking Hadryn and Banneryd are just too damn good.”
“I know,” Kessligh said sombrely. “How bad?”
“Half,” said Errollyn. “We've lost half. Brave men.”
“Brave men,” Kessligh echoed. “We must ensure they did not die for nothing.”
“We killed perhaps three for every one we lost,” Errollyn added. “But the gold weight of those were Kazeri—we did less against the Torovans, and nowhere near enough against the Lenays. There's still about forty thousand left, I'd guess.”
“Fair guess.”
If those numbers were right, talmaad and Enoran cavalry would be down to about ten thousand. The Enoran Steel infantry were another twelve. Of the Ilduuris—only about four thousand—Sasha needed the bulk of them down at the western end, where the mass of the Regent's foot soldiers was about to be hurled.
“We can't cover the entire valley approach along this side,” said Kessligh, indicating the right side of the valley. “The Ilduuri have scouts out all along, and will make that approach as difficult as possible, but Koenyg can find a way to get cavalry up onto this ridge, if he wants.”
“It's not cavalry terrain,” Errollyn replied.
“No, but they can dismount. Lenays often fight that way, using horses only as transport then dismounting to fight on foot, especially in mountains. We may not be able to hold them off these positions.”
“Which opens the Enorans to attack below, with no artillery cover save what's behind them.”
Kessligh chewed his lip. “We can do it,” he concluded finally. “The question remains how well the Regent has learned to use his captured artillery in the time he's had it. Without it, we would probably win this conflict—we have a strong defensive position to assist our lack of numbers. But I don't think the Ilduuri can hold the Regent off those ridges once he realises how important they are—he'll throw everything he has up the slopes and overwhelm them.”
“Which opens the valley to a similar attack,” Errollyn concluded. “And if he has free range to use his artillery against the wall, or gets some of it up onto Sasha's ridge…”
“The Rhodaanis on the ground are fucked. And it all unravels from there, including here, because we'll have to pull so many forces off this side to reinforce the other that this side will collapse as well.”
Hooves thundered, and Daish arrived in a cloud of dust. “Sasha sends me—the attack begins!” he announced. “There were a hundred thousand at least, mostly foot soldiers, though some cavalry also. She speculates that most of the cavalry was sent around to this end of the valley.”
“She speculates right,” Errollyn said wryly.
“The Regent's initial attempts to gain the ridge have been weak,” Daish continued. “They are repelled comfortably, with casualties. But Sasha suspects it will not last, when the Regent sees the necessity of gaining the heights.”
“He will,” said Kessligh.
“Sasha speculated that she may send the Army of Lenayin to attack up the valley. The Regent is spread thin against the Ipshaal, an
d his artillery is not yet in position. But I left before she had given that order. Perhaps the next messenger will carry it.”
“Oh, I think she will,” said Errollyn with a faint smile. “Sasha's not the defensive type.”
“Good move if she calculates it right,” said Kessligh. “Get back and tell her that Koenyg commands on this side, we've halted his advance short of our main defences, but Enoran cavalry has suffered heavily. I expect Koenyg to send dismounted troops up to capture these ridges soon. Oh, and tell her that Errollyn is well.”
Daish grinned, saluted, and departed in a hurry.
Kessligh resumed his gaze out across the valley. “Come on, damn you,” he muttered. “Attack.”
“You're that certain we'll hold them?” Errollyn asked.
“Not the point. We must hold forces here to guard against such a huge cavalry opponent. If those cavalry break our lines on this side and get into our rear…”
“We're finished.”
“But Koenyg barely needs to attack. His main purpose is to force me to hold troops here, leaving my lines weak against the Regent's main force in the west. I'd rather he comes at us and gives us the chance to secure this flank by dealing him a defeat.”
“You just told Daish you were confident he would attack.”
Kessligh shrugged. “Aye, the main thing I wish Sasha to know is that she'll have no help from me any time soon. Precisely what happens here, she's far too busy for it to change anything.”
Jaryd might have liked to ride with his native men of Tyree, but his place was at Damon's side and he knew it. Not that the prince seemed to be lacking in popularity as he rode to the front of the Army of Lenayin's formation to the cheers and yells of the men, but in this mood, Lenay warriors would cheer anything.
Now they awaited the infantry's arrival behind, having cleared the patchwork forest dividing fields at this end of the valley. The infantry made their position at a run, and talmaad were forming on open fields in front, several thousand serrin on horseback, bows at the ready.
Beyond them, a huge mass of feudal soldiery was forming, amidst yells, waving banners and blasting trumpets. They seemed in some confusion, yet they were further advanced into the valley than Jaryd had hoped, and not pressed as far back against the Ipshaal as Sasha's message had seemed to indicate. Had she misjudged? Or were the Regent's forces organising faster than she'd thought possible?
As though summonsed by the thought of Sasha, a burning artillery round flew arcing over the enemy formations from the bluff to the left of the valley mouth. It fell, and erupted with a great, rolling fire. Lenay men cheered, yet the Regent's forces did not waver. Even the horrors of hellfire were lost amongst such a huge number of men. They would not want to stand under it for a long time, but already most of the formation was deploying over here, upon the right side of the Dhemerhill River, furthest from the artillery's effects. The left flank, across the river, was more sparse.
“The Dhemerhill River is fordable here,” said Jaryd to Damon, “a hundred paces up from this farmhouse.” He pointed with his sword. “The locals showed me a number of places, and I checked them myself; river levels are unchanged since then.”
Damon looked, grimly tightening the arm strap of his shield. There were bridges over the river too, but they were narrow. A proper fording could cross a large number of cavalry without slowing to swim, or to fit across a narrow bridge. A smaller force of Lenay and talmaad cavalry were deployed upon the left side, against a similar size of Bacosh cavalry and infantry. Damon wanted the Regent's men to think he was merely engaging them head on, force against force. Instead, a charge across the river and up the exposed left side, under cover of Sasha's artillery, could put them halfway to the Ipshaal.
“Deal with their cavalry first,” he said. “Then we cross.” Jaryd wasn't certain if it would be possible to coordinate such a move on so little notice. Well, they were about to find out.
Ahead, the serrin began to move, and Lenay cavalry followed. The canter slowly built to a gallop. Jaryd could not see past the line of talmaad, and focused only upon holding his place in the line. The Lenays left gaps in their line for the talmaad to fall back through. Closing them in time to make contact would be a challenge.
They wove about trees and leaped a low fenceline, and then the talmaad were rising in their saddles and pulling on bowstrings. They fired together, arrows flying high, then pulled a second arrow in unison and let fly at a lower trajectory. And then they divided, bunching into groups to make large holes in their formation, those who could get a clear shot now firing a third arrow as they did so. They turned, each bunched group of talmaad aligning upon several “flankmen” whose job was to watch the Lenays behind, and steer back through the holes left purposely in their ranks.
Jaryd steered across, and for a moment horses jostled…but then the serrin were flashing by, and a line of armoured Bacosh cavalry were rearing ahead, wavering with shock, no more than fifty human paces away. As usual with serrin, the timing was perfect.
More arrows flew past Lenay riders as formations clashed, men and horses falling, colliding at speed, lost lances careening into the air to crash into unsuspecting riders. Jaryd found himself racing through the first rank of knights and other cavalry without finding a target, then spread the line further to approach the second rank. These were less heavily armoured, and he parried past one with his shield whilst crashing through a second's defence on the other side. He reeled, and Jaryd spun with his comrades to pursue—these were mostly Damon's friends, a close company of Verenthane nobles who could easily have remained with Koenyg, but had not. Like Jaryd, they'd been raised on horses since before they could walk, and were at no disadvantage against even the men of Northern Lenayin.
Bacosh cavalry came back at them—Jaryd saw Damon smash one from the saddle, saw a clever lean and duck from his companion stab through another's side, and accelerated onto another's blind side himself to cut through his unprotected neck from behind. He could see back to the first rank now, some dividing, very unwisely, to chase the talmaad, and others galloping back to reengage the Lenays. Many of those were being followed by talmaad, shooting men in the back whose armour would not stop it, and shooting the horses of those where it would. The combined force of human and serrin cavalry, devised by Errollyn, was designed to be lethal to the first enemy rank, who found themselves both engaged up close and shot by deadly accurate fire from afar and behind. Already they were panicking, wheeling about to try to clear the field of serrin fire, eager to confront the Lenays but not wishing to turn their backs on the talmaad.
Damon and friends yelled with triumph and charged, felling more confused and frightened cavalry, and now encountering knights whose armour remained intact, but whose horses were struggling with multiple arrow strikes and dying. Some hit the ground hard and struggled to rise once more. Lenay men generally ignored them—they would be dealt with later, and were too slow afoot to bother fast-moving cavalry.
Soon the Regent's cavalry were falling back, then retreating at full gallop. More artillery flashes erupted upon the left flank, and Jaryd spared a moment to view the bluff from which they came. No fighting was visible. Had that assault failed?
Now serrin were pursuing the retreating Bacosh men, zigzagging through the Lenay warriors with bows in hand, seeking shots at retreating backs. They looked furiously determined, striving to kill as many as possible while the chance presented. Behind them came the main Lenay army, on foot, and running. Fast.
Damon was yelling, standing in his stirrups to attract attention, pointing across the river. Already other Lenay cavalry were charging that way, and Damon followed, gathering more men as he went. Shouted orders were of no use here. The noise of hooves and massed voices was too loud for anyone save an immediate neighbour to hear. But the plan was to get across the Dhemerhill River, and up the relatively exposed left flank under the cover of Ilduuri artillery on the ridge.
Jaryd hit the water amidst several hundred other horsemen, w
ith more hundreds following. The horses plunged and struggled for a moment, and then were clear to the far bank and running once more, skirting a large farmstead and leaping fences. To the right were masses of enemy soldiers. To this side, the way was clear, as few braved the falling artillery for the next thousand strides at least. Damon's party cleared a final fence and emerged onto rolling green fields, swords out and yelling as they charged at full speed.
Rhillian reined up further back than her comrades, holding her bow in the air as a signal for others to do the same. Bacosh cavalry were trying to escape, some fording the river to the left, others galloping off to the right, across the impenetrable line of infantry before them, talmaad and a few Lenay cavalry in pursuit. Those would try to run up the steep valley sides high enough to find a way around. In this valley, a cavalryman could run out of room very fast, with infantry behind plugging up his only escape.
Behind, she could hear the Army of Lenayin approaching, the deafening roar and rattle of thousands of charging men. She spaced her horse a little further from her neighbour, held him still, then placed her first arrow to her bowstring. She fired, low and flat, as other serrin did the same, stopping their horses completely. Arrows flew as the roar behind grew louder. Sporadic return fire arced high and ineffective; the Regent's forces had not yet gathered archers close enough to the front rank to make their shots count. Rhillian fired again, and thought that this form of warfare was agreeable to her. A horse could carry numerous quivers, and she had a lot of arrows. She would sit here and shoot them at her enemies until there were no arrows left, then retreat to get some more.
Suddenly the Army of Lenayin were bursting past her, and she felt as though she were mounted upon a beach, a great wave crashing across the sand. There were thousands of them, and she could feel their fury shaking her bones. The Army of Lenayin had been defeated at Shero Valley. It had lost its king, and run before an enemy. It had marched in humiliation behind the victorious Regent across Rhodaan and then into Enora, with banners flying low in shame and mourning. It had suffered the worse realisation that all along, they'd been fighting for a dishonourable cause. They'd been misled, tricked into a war that many of them might have gladly fought, but for the other side. And their so-called allies had treated them with contempt, called them barbarians, and lately tried to murder their favourite princess for daring to wed the soon-to-be King of all the Bacosh. The Army of Lenayin had borne this weight for weeks and months, living for the moment of redemption and retribution. They were not merely in the bloodlust of Lenay warriors in battle. They were genuinely, blood-curdlingly furious.
Haven: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Four Page 49