by Duncan Lay
‘Is that it?’ Rhiannon asked.
‘She must be testing us, feeling us out,’ Asami said. ‘That cannot be the extent of her plans.’
Edmund galloped over. ‘King Ward’s thanks. But he wants you to save his men faster next time,’ he said.
‘Does he understand magic?’ Asami asked.
‘No, but he understands his men and he knows they cannot take much more,’ Edmund said.
‘Tell your men that is the worst they will face. We know what they will try now,’ Rhiannon said.
Edmund inclined his head. ‘Thank you. I mean that,’ he said, then rode away.
‘What did you say that for? This was just Sumiko feeling us out, seeing what our powers are,’ Asami hissed.
‘Would you rather I told them that and had them break and run?’
Asami smiled ruefully. ‘I see your point. So what is Sumiko’s next move?’
‘That’s up to her.’
‘We’re not doing anything much except killing our men. We’re paying with lives for a few arrows each time,’ Wilfrid said angrily, as another one of his cavalry columns reined in to a halt, riders swearing as they pulled arrows out of their horses or their mates. Wilfrid could see four horses had been downed by that little charge, with just one rider limping back towards them. Even as he watched, a pair of arrows converged on the rider and he collapsed, writhing.
‘This is not what my father wanted,’ Wilfrid added, looking at the line of dead men and horses left behind as the elves advanced and his cavalry had played at charging home.
‘This is exactly what your father wanted,’ the castellan contradicted him. ‘We must stick to the plan. They waste arrows on air and earth rather than on our men. Soon they will run out and then we will charge home. Shall I signal the third company to make another run at them?’
Wilfrid nodded savagely. ‘This is not right,’ he muttered to himself as more men spurred into a mock-charge and the elves lifted their bows again.
‘They have some ability. They will be able to exhaust most of our magical strength before we can defeat them,’ Sumiko mused.
‘How is that possible?’ Oroku asked.
‘They are just like us. All they needed was training. And thanks to that traitor Asami and the Forlish bitch Rhiannon, they now have it. We need to wear them out before we tackle them. Have every archer loose at the Forlish. If we’re lucky, they will waste their energy stopping the arrows.’
‘And the cavalry?’
To either side, men and horses probed and swooped at her advance, teasing arrows out of her warriors with every fake charge. That was distracting but she forced herself to ignore it. As long as her warriors had arrows, the cavalry were no danger. And if she could destroy the heart of the Forlish army, they would become even less important.
‘Have the closest clans to the left and right watch them and screen the rest of us,’ she decided.
They were now less than two hundred paces away from the Forlish and she sent out the order for the archers to loose. Thanks to her Magic-weavers standing not just with the clan leaders but scattered through the lines of warriors, the ten clans she was using as her main block were reacting instantly. She thought of them like ten fingers: she would poke and prod at the Forlish, then form them into fists and smash through.
The noise of thousands of bows being drawn was like the rumble of angry thunder. The release was more like the roar of a storm.
‘Shields!’
Caelin heard the cry and took it up. Men clustered together, pushing forwards at the line in front, to present an unbroken wall of shields. The front line went down on one knee, while the second line tilted their shields and the other lines raised theirs over their heads, every man knocking his shield on his neighbours’ to make sure there were no gaps.
He thought he knew what to expect, having felt it outside Dokuzen. But this was at another level. The arrows then had thumped home into shields with painful force. These ones were almost punching through the wood, points jabbing into arms and hands, or heads and faces. Some men were driven to their knees by the force of multiple arrows smashing into their shields. And while thousands of arrows had fallen outside Dokuzen, now tens of thousands were falling.
Gradually the careful wall of protection cracked open, as men cried in pain at steel points gouging into their heads and faces and let their shields slip, or those who had been forced to their knees struggled to get back up. And the arrows kept coming. They were driving through mail and leather as if it was thin cloth, and ripping into flesh. The men’s helms were good enough to deflect the arrows but more than one man was stunned by the impact of an arrow to the head, even if it did not kill them. But any that struck shoulders or necks had more than enough power to drive down into the body, all the way to the flights.
Gaps were opening up in the lines every moment, and although men bellowed at each other to keep shields together, such a thing was impossible under such a rain of arrows. A few searched for Asami and Rhiannon but those were burned up in the air before they could bite home. The rest, however, they had to leave. They watched the rain of arrows break across the Forlish lines with horror. Men fell, choking and writhing, until more arrows pinned them dead to the ground. Arms grew tired from holding heavy shields up in the air, under the repeated hits of the arrows, but the slightest chink was exploited. The Forlish fell to their knees, trying to make themselves a smaller target, shields balanced on top of their helms in a desperate attempt to shelter from the arrow storm.
Ward was safe, back from the main line and with a score of guards holding shields high around him — but he could see his men suffering and ached for it.
One man, an arrow in his lungs, crawled clear of the line, seeking safety further back, or perhaps trying to flee. Ward did not know and the man could not say, for more arrows bracketed him, pinning him to the ground through the back and legs. He arched his back against the agony of the steel and wood inside him, looking straight at Ward accusingly, then blood gushed from his mouth and he fell limply.
‘Why are the Velsh not helping?’ Ward demanded.
Of course nobody could answer, so he turned his horse and spurred it to the gallop, racing towards the Velsh, his startled guards trying to keep up and hold their shields high.
‘Here comes Ward.’ Huw pointed. ‘I don’t think he is happy.’
‘Can you blame him? His men are being punished,’ Sendatsu said. ‘He will want you to protect his men.’
‘We cannot,’ Rhiannon said. ‘It would take too much out of us. That was the problem we had last time.’
‘Are you protecting those Forlishmen we met last night?’ Sendatsu asked Asami.
‘Of course not!’ she said, although she would not meet his eyes.
He did not press her. He, Gaibun and the Velsh dragons had strung their own bows and were loosing arrows back. The dragons, even Cadel and Bowen, were not particularly good with the bow but the mass of Elfarans gave them a target that nobody could miss. There were only fifty of them and it was like spitting into a raging forest fire and hoping that would put it out. But it was better than nothing.
‘Help my men! Protect them!’ Ward roared as he rode up, dragging his horse to a stop.
‘We cannot,’ Huw said. ‘To stop these arrows would exhaust our magic, which we need to fight Sumiko. We can protect you from one, but not the other. Your men have shields, they need to use them.’
‘You are doing this deliberately!’ Ward accused, pointing at Huw’s face.
‘Why would we do that?’
‘You’re protecting yourselves from the arrows. Look!’ Ward pointed at another handful as they were turned to ash by Rhiannon.
‘Of course,’ Huw said reasonably. ‘We have no shields. Would you rather we died to prove we cannot help you?’
‘You fear us and want to see us weakened by this battle. You would be happy if we finished with just one man left alive,’ Ward accused.
‘If it wasn’t for us, your men would already be
running and Sumiko would be deciding how best to kill you in front of your city,’ Huw replied angrily.
Sendatsu lowered his bow and stretched sore back muscles.
‘Gently, Huw,’ he warned softly.
‘I don’t care about the magic now! My men cannot take much more of this!’ Ward shouted. ‘Get your Magic-weavers to help us now or I will make you do it.’
‘You will not. Because you cannot,’ Huw snarled back.
Sendatsu stepped swiftly between them. ‘Our enemy is out there — not here!’ he cried.
Neither looked like they wanted to listen to him — then the arrow storm stopped. It did not peter out or trickle to a stop, it cut off suddenly. They had become used to the thumping noise of arrows striking shields, interspersed with ringing noises as they bounced off shield bosses, helms, or spear points, and screams as they buried themselves into flesh. The screaming kept going but the absence of everything else silenced their argument better than any loud noise.
Caelin peeked from underneath his shield and, when nothing took out his eye, lowered his shield and looked around him.
‘Is it safe?’ Ruttyn asked nervously.
‘I think so.’ Caelin stretched his aching left arm and shoulder, which had borne the weight of the heavy shield. ‘I only got one arrow. You?’
‘Didn’t pick up a single arrow,’ Harald said, inspecting his shield. ‘One bounced off the boss at the front but that was it.’
‘Same here,’ Ruttyn said. ‘Do you think that elf was helping us?’
Caelin looked around. Every man around them had at least one arrow in their shield — some had four or five. For a few moments he thought everyone else was dead, but then they began to stir, to stand and to help the wounded and dead around them.
There were not as many of those as it seemed while they suffered under the pouring arrows. Every moment seemed to bring a fresh scream but Caelin reckoned less than a dozen from his company of one hundred had been hit, and only a handful of those were dead. Thanks to their shields, most had survived, although it had been a terrifying experience.
‘Why did they stop?’ Harald said.
‘Do you want to go and ask them?’ Ruttyn suggested.
‘What are they doing? Why did they stop?’ Ward asked.
‘They would only have a certain number of arrows. They loosed most of one bag then — they must want to keep enough in reserve to finish you off.’
Ward looked up and down the line as wounded men crawled out, dead men were dragged away and the survivors shuffled together.
‘So you think they have enough arrows for just one more of those attacks?’
‘No more,’ Sendatsu promised, with a confidence he did not feel.
‘Then we need your help next time to survive it.’
‘And what if they attack with magic at the same time?’
‘We will worry about that if it happens. Remember — protect my men next time.’
‘I do not take orders from you,’ Huw said.
Ward’s eyes flashed dangerously and Sendatsu took a half-step between them again instinctively.
‘You will do anything I tell you to, in order for this battle to be won,’ Ward said quietly.
‘Not if obeying it means we will lose,’ Huw said stubbornly.
Ward glared at him but Huw locked eyes with the king, thoughts of how his father had died thanks to this man’s orders giving him added strength. Behind Ward, several guards eased out wider, hands on their swords. Behind Huw, Cadel and a dozen dragons turned, arrows on the strings of their bows. The air was suddenly heavy with the threat of violence.
‘King Ward, you can be sure Sumiko is going to do the thing you are most afraid of,’ Sendatsu said into the silence. ‘If she stopped, it was because she could see the havoc the arrows were causing. Next time she will loose them closer, back it up with magic and then send in her warriors while your men are trying just to stay alive.’
For a moment he did not think Ward was going to look away, then he acknowledged Sendatsu and the heat between Ward and Huw suddenly cooled.
‘What do you suggest?’
‘Fight. Hold your lines. We will stop their magic as soon as it starts but we will be unable to stop Sumiko’s warriors cracking your first line.’
Ward hardly looked delighted at that prospect.
‘Is that the best you can do?’ he asked.
‘Did you think this would be easy? Perhaps your cavalry can take some of the pressure off, draw some of the Elfarans away from your shield wall. Use your crossbowmen, hidden behind shields — try to hold them back for as long as possible.’
Again, Ward did not look enthused about the plan. He did not get the chance to say any more, as one of his marshals raced up to him on horseback.
‘Sire, they are advancing again!’ he shouted.
Ward turned his horse viciously. ‘Protect my men,’ he snarled, by way of parting words.
‘Nothing like having allies you can trust,’ Gaibun said lightly. ‘And he’s nothing like an ally.’
Sumiko felt totally in control. Above her, birds circled, flying to be her eyes when she wanted to see what the enemy was doing. Thanks to her Magic-weavers, scattered through the clans, she had but to give an order and it was obeyed. The humans were just standing there, letting her hit them and doing nothing in return. Their cavalry was a nuisance but no more than that, riding impotently around to the side and rear. She had added two more clans to the ones watching them, however, just in case. They were terrified of her archers.
‘Close in. When we are fifty yards away, have them half loose every arrow they have left on the rear ranks of the humans. We shall use magic to crack open the front ranks and then send in the swords. It is time to finish this,’ she told Oroku.
‘Crossbowmen! Move to the second line and begin loosing on the command! First and second lines, protect the crossbowmen!’
The order went down the ranks and Caelin slung his shield over his back and took out his crossbow.
‘So we have to carry the bloody things everywhere and now make ourselves targets as well? What is the point of them?’ Harald grumbled.
‘You need them to be a scout. And you get an extra silver a month for it,’ Caelin said, pulling the string back with a grunt.
‘That would be the pay we never seem to get then,’ Ruttyn said. ‘So we’re basically getting more of nothing?’
‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Caelin replied, slipping a bolt into the grooved channel. ‘You’re likely to get a few arrows in return for it.’
‘Well, that’s all right then,’ Ruttyn said, rolling his eyes.
Caelin pushed through the lines until he was just behind the men at the front, men whose shields were heavy with broken arrows. They looked none too pleased at him being there, knowing — as he did — they would draw arrows like flies to fresh shit. Ruttyn and Harald took up positions near him, then the second line raised their shields to try to protect everyone’s heads.
He went down on one knee and peered at the marching elves through a chink between two shields.
‘I’ll say one, two, three,’ he told the men to either side. ‘On two, turn your shields out for a heartbeat, then on three turn them back again. With luck, they’ll never get a look at us.’
The soldiers looked down at him and he shrugged apologetically. ‘Sorry, lads. I don’t believe it either but I thought it might make us feel better.’
He nestled the heavy wooden butt of his crossbow into his shoulder. It was pointless aiming, for the sheer size of the elven advance made it almost impossible to miss.
‘Ready?’
‘Just get it over with,’ someone growled.
‘One, two,’ he counted. The shields whipped open and he pulled the trigger, the string snapping forwards with a crack, making the short arms creak and whipping the bolt away. ‘Three!’ The shields flipped back, casting him into shadow, but he could still a cloud of crossbow bolts flying at the elves.
Sumiko
saw the bolts and reacted instantly.
‘Burn them up!’ she told Oroku. ‘And kill the men loosing them!’
The elven host seemed to hesitate as the bolts converged. Many burned up in the air, or plunged into the ground. Others struck home, sinking deep into bellies, chest and heads. None of the elves carried shields and their armour was not able to stop the wickedly sharp broad heads. Dozens fell, most of them screaming, some dead instantly.
Behind the first ranks, those with bows did stop, drawing and loosing before marching on.
‘Protect our warriors! I don’t want any bolts to get through,’ Sumiko ordered.
‘But, High One, that will leave us dangerously weak for dealing with Asami and Rhiannon’s Magic-weavers,’ Oroku ventured nervously.
‘I have a plan for that, also,’ Sumiko snapped.
Caelin grunted as he drew back the string of his crossbow. Ideally he would place his foot in an iron stirrup at the front for that purpose, then lift it back as he straightened his upper body. But, crouched between nervous soldiers, he did not have the room. It made the reloading even slower than usual.
‘Here they come again!’ someone shouted.
‘Who, the elves?’ Harald asked stupidly.
Next moment, men cursed and cried out as arrows thundered into their shields, the noise almost deafening. Caelin looked up to see one splinter the edge of a man’s shield, deflect sideways and whistle past his ear. There was a scream behind him and a glimpse of daylight.
‘Get a shield up! No gaps!’ someone bawled, while the wounded man sobbed and gasped, his breath coming in shudders of pain.
‘We can’t just stand here and take it. We need to get out there and ram it back up their bloody arses,’ someone muttered.
‘Yeah, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, sarge,’ someone said.
‘Ready! One, two,’ Caelin called. The shields flickered open and he just had time to loose a bolt before they whipped back, before he even had time to say, ‘Three!’
‘Give me the time to loose, or you’ll end up with a bolt in your arm,’ he said angrily.
Arrows smashed into shields and, somewhere behind, there was another choking scream, cut off short.