IronStar (41 page)

As though on cue, a shout arose
from the O’dai, and a thick line of infantry three hundred meters long, a
thousand soldiers both sword and crossbowmen, began a running charge across the
plains toward their position.

“Rash’koi! Archers!
Break that charge
! Grenades at the
center! Cavalry, roll up their left flank! Pike, positions! Go!” Kirrah
unholstered her beamer and began snapping off targets in the approaching line.
The air between it and her formation filled with a sleet of the deadly grenade
arrows, which burst with satisfying results and left tattered gaps along forty
meters of the approaching line. One hundred eighty meters, one-seventy,
one-sixty and another barrage of grenade arrows ripped at the charging men.
One-fifty and a volley of mortar rounds from the steamships dropped among the
O’dai’s right flank, nearest the ships. Still they kept coming. One hundred
forty meters away, their line was closing up, just over two hundred meters wide
now, men stumbling and falling in the center again as a flight of bodkinpoints
lashed down among them. More shouts and clatter from the right, sixty heavy
cavalry breaking straight through the O’dai’s left flank like bowling balls in
an alley.

Still the O’dai came on. Crossbow
quarrels fired on the run fell in a spatter among the Talamae formation, taking
down a few men. With another huge
boom!
the second trebuchet
disintegrated into flinders and the sapper came trotting into their formation,
looking pleased with himself. Another volley of mortar fell among the charging
O’dai, most landing in front of the running men. Major Doi’tam had turned his
cavalry charge into a textbook wheel maneuver, swinging around to run down the
O’dai line from behind.

“Ready, Warmaster” called the
sapper working on the toppled but intact trebuchet behind them.

“Hold, fire it as we leave!”
Which
might be soon; what does it take to
stop
those people?
Kirrah
muttered under her breath. One hundred meters away, the charge was melting, but
not fast enough. “Pike, ready!” she commanded. “Archers, thin their right
flank!” Eighty longbows pulled and let fly, and a second later the O’dai right
flank disintegrated under the combined volley of her archers and the other
hundred-twenty longbowmen who had just landed upstream. The heavy cavalry
galloped into the O’dai center from behind, and suddenly the charge dissolved
into knots of men scrambling to survive.

“Form up! Leave them to the
cavalry, we have two more trebuchets to kill! Let’s march!” Three hundred
meters farther around the curving shoreline, the fourth trebuchet was standing
half assembled, like a crippled crane. Her formation set off at a trot, the
newly-arrived longbowmen double-timing to catch up to them. A quarter of the way
to their fourth objective, Kirrah turned to the frantic shouts of the sapper at
the third trebuchet, which was lying where it had fallen. Just as the first of
the new archers passed the jumble of beams, the charge ignited with a flash and
roar, and men disappeared behind a cloud of smoke and flying splinters. More
explosions sounded from the O’dai camp as ships’ mortars continued to find
targets. Kirrah stood horrified while the smoke cleared to reveal a dozen
longbowmen broken and scattered like chaff around the destroyed trebuchet.
Another fifteen or twenty were reeling but on their feet. Her face a mask of
anguish, Kirrah signaled the survivors to come on at a run, and followed her
forces toward their fourth objective. Behind them, the steamships and oar-powered
cargo boats were pulling out into the lake and following their progress along
the shoreline.

In minutes, they reached the fourth
trebuchet. Behind them, their cavalry had broken off pursuit of the remains of
the O’dai skirmish line and were coming back at a trot. South across the plain,
a horn sounded and the O’dai’s light cavalry could be seen in their camp,
forming up into a column. At the sound of the horn, the lead rider in the
Talamae cavalry visibly wavered, his big white horse starting a turn toward the
O’dai formation.
Not now, you big oaf!
Kirrah groaned to herself…
Ah,
good Major! That’s it, come to mama, don’t play with the nice horsies on the
other side, we may all live through this day…

“Pike, set up a perimeter, safe
distance from the sapper’s charge, backs to the river! Archers, take your
places in front of the pikes! Sappers, to it! This time I want oil on the
beams, and a fuse we can ignite from a distance!” Another horn sounded and the
mass of O’dai cavalry began moving, but not towards Kirrah’s position. They
were heading toward the fifth and last intact trebuchet nearly two hundred
meters farther downstream, where the lake emptied into the west-flowing river
Geera.

“I want a sapper headed for that
fifth trebuchet, as soon as the cavalry arrives to protect him! Signalman, call
them to hurry!” A series of high chimes sounded in the air behind her, and
Major Doi’tam’s horsemen broke into full gallop. Out on the river, the four
steamships, still firing occasionally into the O’dai encampment, and the
flotilla of a dozen cargo boats, were approaching around the bend in the
shoreline. More notes on the horn, and the O’dai cavalry also broke into a
gallop.

Kirrah’s cavalry arrived, just as
the O’dai column split into two forces of about three hundred horse, one making
for the fifth trebuchet and the other closing rapidly across the plain towards
her position.

“Forget the fifth trebuchet, we’ll
kill it from the ships! Ready ten men with fire arrows! Cavalry, behind the
pike, both flanks!” The heavily armored horses and riders moved to either end
of the line of Talamae soldiers.

“Sappers, lay all but two of your
remaining charges on the
not-grass
thirty-five
hab’la
in front of
the pike, short fuses, and soak oil around them. Archers, mark those spots and
fire them when the sappers call it. I want them going off after the first three
horses have crossed over them, understood?” The three sappers not occupied with
mining the fourth trebuchet hurried onto the field, setting two of the ten-kilo
demolition charges each, as deeply as they could into the springy ground cover
about fifteen meters out. The O’dai cavalry continued their charge, their
column eight horses abreast and thirty or forty long pouring toward them across
the
not-grass
like an unstoppable freight train. Their horn was sounding
a continuous blast. Kirrah was startled to hear a raucous burst of laughter
from several of her pikemen.

“Prax’soua-
ro'tachk
! Please
share with the class, what you are finding so
funny
!” Was that an actual
blush on the back of the brawny sergeant’s neck?

“Ahh, Warmaster, we were just
anticipating your next surprise. No offense intended, we pity the O’dai!”

“No offence taken, just keep your
mind on your work!” Like a found penny, the big man’s attitude irrationally
lightened her mood. “Rash’koi
-sana'tachk
, fire at will, hold nothing
back!”

At a hundred meters’ range, the
first squad of eighty longbowmen cut loose with grenade arrows, while the
somewhat depleted second squad followed with a hundred bodkinpoints. At eighty
meters, the second volley was in the air before the first volley struck halfway
back in the approaching column. At sixty meters, the sappers tapped the ready
bowmen and fire arrows slapped into the
not-grass
in front of them,
setting meter-wide blazes. At forty meters, the lead horsemen dropped in a
tangled mess, as another flight of arrows bit into their front ranks. The
column surged and parted around them.

“Archers back! Pike in position!”
In a move heavily choreographed and thoroughly drilled, the two rows of archers
stepped smartly back between the pikemen. The five-meter pikes, which had been
held upright until then, lowered into a deadly picket of edged and pointed
steel aimed at the oncoming cavalry.

The enemy column was recovering
from their leaders’ fall, and picking up speed again. The horses leaped
smoothly across the burning patches of not-grass, only to be cut down by
another thick flight of arrows loosed from
behind
the pikemen. The
column began to bunch up, horses dancing among the burning patches on the
ground. The hail of arrows took merciless advantage of the confusion as the
column’s momentum compressed the light cavalry together. Simultaneously two of
the large demolition charges went off directly under the thickest of the melee,
showering bits of horse and rider alike in a bloody horrid rain on the
defenders. The back half of the column continued to charge forward, straight
into the third and fourth explosions.

In the ringing silence that
followed, a lone voice could be heard among the other half of the O’dai force
guarding the fifth trebuchet, someone screaming orders. The fifth explosion
caught a few of the dazed O’dai milling about, and as the sixth detonated in a
thunderous flash, the O’dai broke and ran. Jeers and bodkinpoints followed them
across the plain. Seconds later the rest of the O’dai, another three hundred
cavalry trailing a few squads of infantry, began another charge, abandoning
en
masse
their position defending the fifth trebuchet.
No more demolition
charges,
Kirrah thought a little wildly. Behind her, the Talamae ships were
drawing nearer.

“Pike, up!” A hundred of the
five-meter shafts rose smartly to vertical. “Prax’soua-
ro'tachk
, show
them what we do to cavalry! Archers, do your worst! Make them bleed for every
hab’la
!
Cavalry! Wait for my signal, and stay together so the archers have clear
shots!”

The heavy warhorses nickered and
stamped, eager to re-enter the fray. At Lieutenant Rash’koi’s signal, nine
squads of twenty archers each loosed in ripple-fire at the approaching light
cavalry column. With a flight of twenty heavy bodkinpoints landing among them
every second, the enemy formation shed horses and riders at an alarming rate.
At eighty meters, a quarter of the enemy were down, horse or rider. At forty
meters, a third. Kirrah opened fire again, beamer set to half power, taking
rider after rider in the face or throat. At thirty meters, Sergeant Prax’soua
barked “Pike down!” and again the long-shafted spears dropped level with the
enemy. Two more flights of arrows shredded the lead of the charging column:
twenty meters, ten.

With a resounding clash and a
scream of men and horses, the O’dai cavalry impaled itself on the first and
second row of leveled pikes. Pikeshafts snapped and shattered, but the second
line held. The rest of the column crashed into the downed animals, themselves
sprouting feathered shafts as fast as they arrived. The column divided in half
and the tail end drove around to Kirrah’s left. Lieutenant Rash’koi’s archers
kept the air buzzing with arrows, and men dropped from the saddle as they
wheeled and drove at the Talamae left flank. Their horses balked and reared,
refusing to run on the forest of steel-tipped pikeshafts facing them. Every
second, another enemy or two fell to the murderous bodkinpoints. Another blare
of the O’dai command horn, and to Kirrah’s utter astonishment the attackers
dismounted as a man and charged into their lines with drawn swords.

“Doi’tam
-fira'tachk
!
Now!
”
she shouted. The startled major looked, caught her eye, and gestured to his
men. Thirty heavy cavalry wheeled around each flank of their formation.

“Second row, pike up!” barked
Sergeant Prax’soua.
They don’t know what they’re doing!
Kirrah realized.
The O’dai commander is trying every old, useless tactic they have, but they
don’t know how to fight pike! Too baaad!…
The hundred-fifty surviving O’dai
beat their swords against the hardwood pikeshafts in a pathetic parody of a
swordfight, dropping in place to the withering longbow strikes, and thrusts
from the long pikes. A few men tried grappling by hand with the pikeheads or
forcing their way between the shafts to close with their unreachable enemy, but
were struck from above by the second-row pikemen or cut down by archers at
point blank range. Seconds later the Talamae horse crashed into the rear of the
now-desperate O’dai, heavy cavalry swords slashing and chopping into them from
behind and pressing them against the merciless pikepoints.

Over the space of three heartbeats
the din diminished, and suddenly an eerie silence fell, broken only by the
panting of her men and horses and the moans of the injured. One fallen O’dai
was sobbing uncontrollably, hands pawing feebly at the feathered shaft taken
firm root low in the center of his breastplate. With an obscene choking,
bubbling gurgle and rush of blood from his mouth, he too fell silent. Irshe
turned from his place on Kirrah’s left and spoke solemnly, almost formally,
into the silence:

“One wishes to congratulate our
Warmaster. Every enemy falls before her wisdom and
anshath’la
. Talam
thanks you.” As he saluted, the entire company joined him, then burst into loud
cheers. When their cheers subsided, a more distant but vastly deeper cheer came
from across the water. Looking to the north and west over the curved end of the
lake, Kirrah could see the far shore crammed with thousands of Talamae
citizens, cheering and leaping and running about like fans at a sports stadium.
Winning
fans. On the lake, the steamships were pulling up just offshore
from her position.
We can do this,
she began to hope.
We landed a
fifth of our forces, and we routed them, siege weapons and all. We can drive
them off or destroy them
. Kirrah returned Irshe’s salute, turning slowly to
take in all the soldiers in her company.

“You have all done well. Every
lesson has been learned. You fight like a true
firado’kae!
” She used the
term for ‘braid-of-three’, meaning every nuance of ‘synergy’,
‘strength-in-numbers’, ‘economy-of-scale’ and ‘sum greater than its parts’ that
was contained in the Talamae word.