by Alex Janaway
CHAPTER 57 – ELLEN
Ellen stood up. ‘What is that?’ It sounded like distant thunder, a low rumbling vibration that she felt in the soles of her feet. ‘Is it going to rain?’
Gantak grunted in response, squatting by the unlit fire, with his little hovel set up behind him. ‘Not rain.’
But if it wasn’t rain …
‘They are coming?’
Gantak nodded.
Ellen looked at the trees in front of her, screening her view of the crest and those gathered on the far side of the hill. She looked at the Emperor’s tent, not thirty yards away. There were a few Nidhal about, but the area was almost empty of life. It could have been only her and Gantak. She hadn’t been this unsupervised since she was a child. Her hand rested on the sheathed shortsword by her side. And they had given her a weapon!
Ellen chewed her lip. The thunder was growing louder. She could also hear the occasional raised voice, it sounded like orders being given.
‘I should be with them,’ she said, turning to Gantak. ‘They all get to fight. Why can’t I?’
The shaman acted as if he hadn’t heard, busy as he was scratching at something under an armpit.
‘Huh!’ Ellen sniffed. She knew why she couldn’t. She didn’t like it, it didn’t feel right. But Nutaaq and Gantak had insisted, and Michael had agreed, and so Owen didn’t argue. Why was it everyone had a plan for her?
‘Fire!’
‘What?’
Gantak was gesturing at the pit.
‘You want the fire lit?’
He gave her a withering look. Of course, why be cold when you work? There was no one left to stop them lighting it anyway.
She hunkered down and set to it with a flint. She eyed Gantak. The shaman had his eyes closed and was mumbling to himself. Calling forth the spirits, no doubt. Why did he not conjure flame, why did it have to exist already first? Was there a limit to his power? Perhaps. But did that apply to her? She’d need to work on that.
CHAPTER 58 – MICHAEL
Standing at the top of the slope, Michael watched the gathering cavalry. They were steadily filing across the bridge and had already found the ford a little further along, both streams of horses feeding into the line facing the militia. They had moved forwards of the treeline and placed themselves downslope a little. The forward pikes were lowered but the rear ranks were still upright.
Michael kept his arms hidden within his sleeves and gripped his forearms tightly. Sending the militia out there was a necessary evil, but if they broke, many, probably most, would not make the trees. The militia’s line did not quite stretch to either side of the slope. It was the job of the Gifted to hold the flanks and to stop any cavalry navigating the woods. Behind him he heard movement. A tap on his arm followed.
‘See you in a bit,’ Fenner announced. Michael nodded at him as Fenner led his marines down and out through the trees.
Someone else joined him at his shoulder. Sasha, and next to her was Rosen. Other Gifted gathered around them.
‘All our marine sitters have gone,’ said Rosen, watching the marines break cover and form up in front of the pike wall.
‘They look serious,’ Sasha said, pointing at the cavalry.
‘Something must have pissed them off,’ said Rosen.
Michael glanced over. The Watcher was armed and armoured, his spear readied. ‘I thought your job was to watch the east.’
Rosen shrugged. ‘I can’t see anyone going that way. I don’t think they will right now. I’m not leaving my brethren. Not for this fight.’
‘You always were too noble,’ said Sasha, tugging at her breastplate. ‘What about you, Father? Are you going to join the Emperor?’ She nodded towards the top of the slope.
The Sun banner had been revealed and the Emperor stood with but a handful of followers: a few soldiers and Father Llews. His Nidhal bodyguard were holding back in the woods. This was a moment for the Tissans.
‘I’ll stay here.’
‘To stop us running?’ asked someone behind him.
Michael shook his head. ‘No.’ He pulled his arms free and undid his belt, shrugging the robe off, revealing the boiled leather hauberk underneath. A sturdy belt held a shortsword on one side and an axe on the other. ‘I’m fighting.’
‘That’s a surprise,’ said Sasha, inspecting him with an appraising smirk.
Michael shrugged. ‘I know what I am. And I know how to kill. I might as well use the gifts I have.’
‘Tell you what, now the Father is weighing in it looks like they won’t need us this side. Perhaps we should just hold ourselves back in reserve?’ another wag announced.
That brought a few laughs. Michael smiled.
‘Let’s go down.’
He stepped out from the trees and on to the open grass. The Gifted followed.
CHAPTER 59 – CADE
‘Bloody shit and piss, there’s a lot of them,’ Cade announced.
‘You just described what this battlefield will look like soon,’ said Saul, leaning into his bow and stringing it.
‘That’s not comforting,’ she muttered. She looked at her crossbow, cocked and ready. ‘I hear the elves are good shots.’
‘If they are anything like their wood cousins, yes,’ Jenni answered for him, loading her own crossbow.
‘Hmm.’ She looked askance at Jenni. ‘Thought you’d gone native?’
‘Killen said I could stay with my folk for this fight.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘Can’t see any archers down there, though. It’s all heavy stuff,’ Saul observed.
‘Are those lances?’ Evan chirped in.
‘They’re not bloody flowers, are they?’ Cade said irritably.
‘There’s no way I’m sewing that up if one of those skewers you,’ said Rula.
Cade looked round. The healer was on her tiptoes, peering over Cade’s shoulder.
‘What are you doing here? I thought there was a tent or something you were going to set up?’
‘I just wanted to see what was coming.’
‘I’ve never seen the like,’ added Naimh. She stood next to Saul.
‘Emperor!’ Cade whispered loudly. ‘Has everyone just decided to come along and watch us get slaughtered?’
‘Just you, Cade,’ Rula said into her ear.
‘Bugger off. And keep buggering off until you’ve buggered right off,’ Cade announced. ‘Now, if you don’t mind.’ She hefted her crossbow. ‘We’ve got somewhere to be.’ Cade turned her head slightly. ‘Right, you bastards. Come on. Glory awaits!’ With that she stepped out and made her way down the slope, her crew following behind, a mix of her old guard and Owen’s Highlanders. The latter were happy to be part of her merry band and she took some pleasure in wondering what Owen might think about that. A little way above them the Gifted emerged, and on the opposite slide of the slope, Fenner and his marines were taking up positions ahead of the pike line. Cade felt no need to hurry and made a point of sauntering. She figured it would look more heroic. She arrived at the edge of the pikes and walked around and in front of them.
‘Chin up, troops!’ she shouted.
‘Save some for us!’ someone shouted back.
Cade gave the line a thumbs up and a grin. Save some? There’d be plenty for everyone. She headed down the centre of the slope along with everyone else until she arrived at the marker. A line of earth heaped up running parallel to the pikes above. Not that it was particularly easy to spot, the whole damn slope was a churned-up mess of earth. She lifted a foot, the mud was like a great clod stuck to her boot, not wet, just annoying. The rest arrived and extended the line left and right of her. She glanced at the marines. Fenner nodded. She raised an eyebrow back. Then she turned to look at the mass of horses at the shallow end of the slope, they were still forming up, seemingly in no hurry, no more than seventy yards away.
‘Shit, they are close,’ muttered Saul.
‘Or is it us that are too close?’ she replied, not looking away. Trying to
decide which one of those bastards was going to stick a lance in her.
‘Bit late now to worry.’
‘Yeah, just get ready to run.’
‘Easier said than done, said Evan, lifting his feet.
‘I’m starting to think I should have stayed at home,’ muttered Winders. Out of everyone he looked most out of place. And thoroughly miserable.
She patted his shoulder. ‘You would’ve missed out on all the fun.’
‘Looks like they are taking an interest,’ said Jenni.
True enough. The cavalry was starting to shake out, leaders were giving orders, and lances were being set. That really wouldn’t do.
‘Archers!’ Fenner shouted, as if reading her mind. Around her, those that carried bows nocked and drew, she raised her crossbow and sighted, keeping the bow a little higher than the head she was aiming at.
‘Loose!’
She squeezed, the string sprung forward, and her bolt joined the half hundred others buzzing towards the cavalry.
‘Reload!’
Cade bent down and got to pulling back the string. She would like to have watched the fun but the sound of the commotion ahead was enough to keep her focused.
‘Hurry up, Cade,’ said Saul, already pulling back on his bow again.
‘Keep your britches on.’
‘Loose!’
Shit. She hauled back, heard the click then reached for a bolt. Now she could pay attention. The cavalry looked agitated, here and there a horse reared, the lead riders had shields up. She saw a body on the ground. One less! She found a bolt and slid it into place.
‘Retreat!’
What?
There was a shouted command from the ranks below, a horn sounded, and the cavalry were off. ‘Shit!’
‘Come on, Cade!’ Jenni shouted, already turning.
Cade shot her weapon into the mass and turned to run. As she feared, her damned legs suddenly felt twice as heavy as before. She joined the rest of the herd as they scrambled back up the slope heading towards the militia. Their grim faces told her everything she needed to know. That and the increasingly loud drumming of pounding hooves behind her.
The screams started just as she began to break left into the trees. She turned her head to look at the approaching cavalry. A horse landed on the churned-up soil and its foot disappeared into the concealed diagonal trench beneath. There was a loud snapping sound and Cade winced. The rider flew forward and landed in an ungainly heap. He wasn’t the only one. All along the slope horses were encountering and falling foul of the series of diagonal lines that had been prepared the day before. Horses were screaming in agony, while riders were urging their mounts forward even as the charge stalled.
‘Cade, come on!’ Saul shouted beckoning to her to get clear of the field. She closed her mouth and made for the safety of the trees, bursting through the foliage and past a sharpened wooden spike, one of many that had been placed, just within cover, hopefully to deter any cavalry thinking of coming their way. Cade looked out. All their crew had made it back, as had the marines to the far side.
‘Forwards!’ came the shouted command from somewhere within the militia line. The pikes to the rear dropped into a horizontal position, and in a drilled manoeuvre the line stepped forwards towards the cavalry which was being channelled into a clear space some thirty yards wide. There was a crunching impact as the two forces met. And now the Gifted were closing with the cavalry, toe to toe.
Beside her Saul was already shooting into the mass of riders stacked up behind the leaders. ‘Easiest pickings we’ll get today,’ he grunted.
It was a good point. But now the game had begun she had another job.
She started down the slope, running past Highlanders and her crew, grabbing some others as she went, they needed to dissuade anyone from dismounting and coming up through the trees.
CHAPTER 60 – MICHAEL
As the marines hightailed it past, Michael looked on grimly at the carnage being wrought on the horses. He did not care for the elves who rode them. It was the screaming, the terror and the pain endured by the creatures. It was horrific. But the channelling was working. The tactic Owen had used against the wood elves was proving a success here as well.
A voice rung out ordering the advance of the militia.
As the pikes lowered and the militia stepped forward, so the Gifted went with them. And the cavalry, their speed neutered by the slope and the churned earth, their numbers reduced by the chaos behind, met the pikes. And died.
The horses crashed into piercing blades coming to meet them. Some pikes cracked, others dropped, the line trembled, threatened to snap apart, but it held. And the charge lost its impetus as riders tried to find a way through and others pulled up, restricted by the space, trying to fan out to either side.
That was their cue. The Gifted charged. Michael gave a guttural roar and closed with the enemy. He ducked his head as a clumsy swipe carved the air above him and swung his axe into the horse’s leg. It reared in pain, throwing its rider back. Michael rolled away. He got to his feet. A mounted elf was facing the other way, hacking at the shield of a Gifted. Michael ran forwards, targeted a gap between breastplate and tasset and stabbed his blade into its thigh, twisting savagely. The elf jerked, turned his head and took a spear in his other side.
Something crashed into his side and Michael fell heavily. He twisted as a hoof landed next to his face. Without thought he thrust upward, burying his sword into the exposed belly of the horse. It jerked and pulled away. Michael lost his weapon. He rolled again, coming up against a pair of legs. A hand reached down, got under his shoulder and pulled him up. He nodded to the Gifted, switched his axe to his right hand and looked for an opponent. But already the charge was failing. The cavalry was attempting to withdraw. An elf was on his knees, trying to stand. Michael stalked toward him and brought the axe down on the helmeted head. The haft broke even as the elf crumpled. He looked up. The pike wall had held but had not advanced with the Gifted. A wise decision; the fallen horses would have disrupted it too much.
He stood with a clear view of the battlefield. The dead littered the ground, as did injured beasts, struggling in pain. The cavalry was bunching up, those withdrawing in the front encountering those coming up in the rear, with nowhere to go. Arrows and bolts were still issuing from the trees to either side. And the Gifted were advancing. Having formed into a tight skirmish line, shields locked, spears out, they were driving the panicked cavalry before them. As individual riders tried to engage they were met by a wall of spears, or projectiles cast towards them by Shapers, distracting their attention long enough for a spear to be thrust their way.
He needed a weapon. His eyes alighted on a fine looking sword, the hand that had held it was twitching a few inches away. He clumped over and picked it up. The Gifted didn’t need him. But those horses did.
CHAPTER 61 – KILLEN
Killen felt one of his boots slide into the viscous earth. He pulled it out after some resistance and a gentle ‘gloop’. Fortunately, he had pulled it out just before the moisture reached the top of the leather. He knew, with a morbid sense of finality, it was only a matter of time before that happened. He stepped over the sucking trap and found purchase on a slightly higher hump of ground. Around him, his scouts were having a similar time of it. This was not their natural environment.
He found a small tree, almost a bush, and leaned against it. From there he took a moment to inspect the ground ahead. They were transitioning from woodland to marshland, where the predominant cover was the tall, sturdy grasses that obscured the view for a good half mile in every direction. It started not far from the bridge to the east and continued on all the way to the Brevis Sea. A natural barrier for any army and valuable flank protection for the Tissan forces emplaced on the hilltop.
But a determined and smart commander would know that any flanking manoeuvre successfully carried out brought valuable tactical advantages.
‘Just tell me why,’ he said, turning to Rashad, �
��it was us who got this particular assignment?’
Rashad hopped over a patch of water and took up a spot next to him. ‘You volunteered us,’ he said, gazing out across the marches, shifting his head left and right to get a better view.
‘Yes, I know that, but Owen was looking at me when he asked for someone to protect the flank. The point is …’ He shifted to remove the annoyance of a sharp little branch poking him in the neck. ‘We are still cavalry. They could do with us on the eastern flank.’
Rashad shrugged. ‘We’d be no good against heavy cavalry, Major.’
Killen made a face but knew Rashad was right. Better here where their bows and speed of foot counted – not including himself in that regard, obviously. The sound of battle drifted over the marsh.
‘It’s started then.’
Rashad nodded. He was still looking south through the grasses.
‘There,’ he said pointing.
Killen took a moment to focus. He saw movement, the stems parting and three figures emerging. As they approached, Rashad stood and waved an arm. One of the three waved back.
The three figures resolved themselves into two scouts, one of whom was Sadad, and the third was a Gifted. A Watcher called Eli, a long-faced long-bearded fellow in his fifties.
‘Welcome back,’ said Killen. ‘What’s it like out there?’
‘Wet,’ replied Sadad.
‘Bloody wet,’ agreed Eli.
Killen noted that all three were soaked up to their waists.
‘No way around it,’ said Eli looking down at his sodden trousers. ‘Had to make sure.’
‘Did you get what you need?’
The Watcher nodded. ‘Yes. We pushed on right to the edge, overlooking the bridge–’
‘Many horses,’ Sadad interjected.
Eli looked at him askance. ‘Yes. Many horses. But they won’t be coming this way. It’ll be infantry or their light horse they send. I spotted a band of them looking our way. If they are worth their salt they’ll be coming for a closer look.’