Authors: Joshua P. Simon
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Historical, #Sword & Sorcery
He huffed and grunted alongside his men as he leaned into the trebuchet with his shoulder. His feet slid on the grass with each step, but finally they got the thing turning.
We’re going too slow.
“Put your back into it,” he yelled to the panting engineers.
“Sir, they’re closing in too quickly.”
“Shut up and push, Private, or I’ll strangle your scrawny neck with my good hand.”
The man put his head down and with another big shove Raker called for them to stop.
“Load that thing up, men. Triple time!” He looked over his shoulder. “Senald, what are we waiting on? Get those things going.”
“We’re trying.”
“Try harder,” he shouted. “It ain’t gotta be perfect. We need to get something in the air to give those horses something to think about.”
While the rest of his men focused on working with the mages, Raker had noticed the cloud of dirt off in the distance, and the cavalry in the midst of it. They charged toward Grayer’s lines, but the old general was too caught up in the battle before him to notice. Raker sent a runner down to give him word. In the meantime, he made a judgment call to change strategy, hoping to soften the eventual clash.
“What are you doing?” said a black-robed mage, charging up the small rise. He pushed Raker square in the chest. “Get these things turned back to the way they were. We haven’t been given orders to do otherwise.”
Raker fumed and closed his hand into a fist. Then he realized that hand wasn’t there anymore.
Stupid mind playing tricks on me. No matter, I’ve still got the other.
He took a step forward and the mage’s hand glowed as if begging Raker to do something to defy him. The engineer didn’t care.
One hand or not, I’m king here.
A fist came in from the side and connected with the mage’s jaw. The black-robed figure dropped to the ground. Senald then kicked the mage in the rump. “Get your behind back to your people. You mind your own and we’ll mind ours.” He pointed. “Conroy’s mages are attacking the rest of yours now.”
Shocked, the mage scurried off, holding his jaw and wearing a scowl.
Raker gave Senald a look and opened his mouth.
Senald held up his hands. “I know. That’s your job. Well, I was tired of you having all the fun. You can get the next one.”
Raker spat and held back a grin. “Fair enough.” He paused. “But next time, twist your hips. You’ll put more into it.”
Senald smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The first of Senald’s trebuchets rocked forward, sending stone into the air. It looked like most of it would miss their target, but at the least Raker saw the cavalry’s lines disperse which would lessen the impact of the charge.
The siege equipment began to release in rhythm.
Unfortunately, we’ll only be able to get in a few more rounds before the cavalry gets too close. Let’s hope it’s enough.
He spotted Yanasi’s company sweeping around the rear, armed with bows and crossbows.
Crud. You better not do anything crazy, girl.
Raker swallowed when he saw what she intended.
Too late.
* * *
Crusher’s roaring voice filled Kaz’s right ear while pain exploded in his left from the sword that struck him. Small white dots appeared before his eyes, staggering him. He did his best to fight off the dizzy nausea. Without Cisod’s armor, the blow would have ended him.
The soldier who struck him came around again with his sword, sensing Kaz’s moment of weakness. Kaz got his own sword up in time and the blades clanged together before sliding apart. Another soldier attacked Kaz in the brief moment the two separated. Kaz deflected the blow off his shield.
Kaz hated to admit it, but Conroy’s men had the upper hand and they were too well-disciplined for Kaz to make up for his lack of numbers.
He caught a glimpse of the flag bearers. They had not changed to the gray color signaling the completion of the encirclement. Jeldor and Grayer were taking too long and the center would break without something to ease the continued push of Conroy’s soldiers.
He ignored the splitting pain in his head and squinted through his clouded vision. Kaz took the offensive against his opponents, hacking away in the close confines, alternating strokes between both men. The sword arm of one collapsed under the force of Kaz’s strikes. Kaz readied himself to finish the man, but the head of a warhammer descended before his eyes. A sickening crunch followed by a spray of blood through the soldier’s visor came next. Crusher’s swing had caved the man’s head in. Kaz killed the other man a moment later. In the distance, he caught sight of a rising cloud of dust.
Cavalry.
Kaz noticed then that the barrage of stones had moved away from the center of Conroy’s forces and now targeted that distant, but fast approaching, charge.
Raker saw it before I did. I’m glad he’s sober.
He had wanted to avoid signaling Drake and Janik, hoping to win this battle man to man, but he remembered a saying he heard muttered among members of the Hell Patrol’s old crew.
When in doubt, cheat.
Kaz called out to Krytien and gave the orders. He finished just as a morning star swung toward him.
* * *
Drake peeked through the opening of their underground hideout. In the heat, he sweated like a pig. His whole body quivered along with their little shelter as the horses rode over. He swore.
“How about now?” he asked.
“I told you, I’ll tell you when we’ve been given orders. Until then, we have to just wait,” said the mage in an exasperated tone.
“How can you be so calm? Our men are dying out there and Conroy is sending in heavy cavalry.” He paused. “We should do something.”
Janik shook his head. “What’s the matter with you? You heard Kaz specifically say that we were not to act on our own, only by his command. If he hasn’t called us, then maybe he doesn’t need us.”
Drake resumed his watch of the battle. Unfortunately, from his position he saw very little except the backside of Conroy’s lines and now the rumps of what he estimated to be a thousand armored knights.
He turned at Janik’s gasp. In the mages palm glowed six stones of various colors and brightness. Janik looked up at Drake and swallowed. “We’ve got the orders.”
“Quit gaping then, and let’s go,” Drake said as he left the lookout spot and went over to a crate filled with small vials of liquid packed in straw.
* * *
Yanasi thanked the One Above that Raker had seen the cavalry too. The falling stones, played havoc on their formation, and slowed their approach enough for her to position her men. Grayer had told her to stay out of the fighting, but she quickly defied his orders when she saw the horses.
She commanded a company of just over four hundred men, mostly bowmen and crossbowmen. When she saw what the wing would face, she ordered her bowmen to drop their weapons and pick up spears. These weapons were not their customary choice, but she had made sure that her men knew how to use them.
One hundred crossbowmen knelt on the grass before her while an additional one hundred stood behind the spearmen positioned between the two groups. Both lines waited for her signal. A spear rested on the ground in front of her. She stood by her men. Despite the slim chance of survival, she would not let them die alone.
* * *
Even though the partially mixed chemicals were harmless in their current state, Drake had not wanted to take any chances with their safety. Janik conveyed the locations of each strike as Drake adjusted the strength of the mixes based on previous instructions. Janik would be the one directing the charges to their destinations.
Quickly and carefully, Drake mixed the amounts into small clay container. When he finished, eight balls of Nitroglycas lay on the dirt before them.
“They’re ready.”
Janik nodded and set the glowing stones down. “Move them to the edge of the opening and then call the distance for me.”
“Anything else?” asked Drake.
“Say a prayer to the One Above.”
* * *
The flash of blue and red light preceded the first explosion by half a breath. Even the air shook from the blast. Pieces of earth, horse, and man sailed skyward.
Raker’s jaw dropped. The survivors of Conroy’s cavalry continued, but raggedly and much slower than before.
Another explosion erupted in the center of Conroy’s V formation. It knocked more than half the men on the field to their backs. A dull ring buzzed in Raker’s ears from the thundering sound.
Dark smoke enveloped the battlefield, yet he could still spot bits of flesh and battered armor raining down.
Six more successive blasts followed in the distance. Raker followed the bright light and billowing smoke, realizing it formed a line between Conroy’s reserves and the main battle.
“Is that the stuff Drake had been working on?” asked Senald, voice filled with wonder and dread.
“I reckon so,” said Raker.
A second passed.
“I believe he got it right,” said Senald.
“He definitely didn’t have it wrong.”
Raker couldn’t help but grin.
That’s my boy.
* * *
The explosion came from nowhere and everywhere at once. Others followed, one close by and then several off in the distance. But to Yanasi, the only one that mattered was the first. The remaining cavalry that emerged from the cloud of smoke and dust looked like a unit sent from the One Below. Five hundred knights, covered in black dirt and bits of bright red flesh and blood from their fallen brethren, barreled down on her position.
Their discipline is amazing.
She waited until the last possible moment before giving the orders to her men. As she yelled the command, crossbows fired low and high from in front and behind her. The quarrels ripped through the air and sped toward the enemy. Dozens of knights fell, but far too many continued. Her men picked up their spears while the crossbowmen moved back and drew swords.
She and her men butted the spears into the ground and waited less than two full breaths as the wave of knights crashed into them. Her spear broke in half as it sunk into the exposed chest of a horse. The impact threw her backward, slamming her into the ground. A hoof stomped her leg and she screamed as the bone cracked. The leg of another mount kicked her in the helm and she rolled.
Yanasi’s head swam and she struggled to focus. A warmth flowed down her face, over her left eye, and into the corner of her mouth. She tasted blood. Through her blurry vision she saw her men fight valiantly, even killing many of the mounted knights. Despite being at a disadvantage, they refused to give in.
She crawled to her knees, the pain from her leg coursing through her body. She bit her lip and tried to ignore it. She had an obligation to her men.
Her bow had fallen off her back, but it lay a few feet away. She half-crawled, half-dragged herself to it. Despite the rush of horses, and the careless trampling of animal and men, it remained unscathed.
She drew an arrow from her quiver, and with the bow in her hand, the pain subsided. Hobbling on one leg, her focus returned. She knew at any moment a sword could swipe her head off, but she didn’t care.
One. Two. Three arrows. Three kills. Several more followed all within a matter of seconds. A blood curdling scream came from her right and she turned as a mounted knight charged her while swinging a mace over his head. Yanasi raised her bow, but froze. In all the excitement, in her need to exact punishment on others, she had forgotten about Rygar.
A lump caught in her throat and her arms shook. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to be with Rygar. Yet as the knight grew closer, all she could do was stare death in the eyes and wait.
Another horse slammed into the knight and the two riders tumbled to the ground. The collision jarred Yanasi from her stupor.
Grayer rolled around with the much younger knight.
He saved my life.
Yanasi watched as the knight pulled a dirk and stuck Grayer through his ribs before rolling the old general off him. She reached back for an arrow, but found her quiver empty. Yanasi hobbled over and swung her bow out, cracking it on the side of the knight’s face. She came back around and did it again, this time breaking the black wood in half. Without his helm, the knight’s eyes rocked backward and he fell to the ground. She picked up the mace the knight had dropped, almost collapsing under its weight with just one leg to stand on. She redistributed her load and with one heave, destroyed the man’s face.
She knelt next to Grayer as the old general clutched at his chest. Blood seeped through his fingers. His breathing was short and rapid.
He looked at her sternly. “You didn’t follow my orders, Captain.”
She started to cry. “No, sir. I didn’t.”
His expression softened. “I’m glad for it. You bought me enough time to bring up our reserves.”
She looked around and saw Conroy’s cavalry overwhelmed with Grayer’s reserves.
“You saved the wing, General. You’re a hero.”
He chuckled and winced. “On a day like today, there are many heroes. My name doesn’t need to be one of them. I’m just a soldier doing his job.”
The general’s hand went limp and his eyes faded. Yanasi started to sob as the sound of battle faded.
* * *
“One Above!” cried Markus. “What sort of sorcery was that?”
“That was not sorcery,” answered Conroy, his voice barely a whisper.
“Then what was it?”
Conroy swallowed. The explosions had shaken more than just the land. They had shaken his soul. “Nitroglycas. An extremely rare and volatile compound. Only a High Mage has the power to work the stuff.”
“Then how could they have it? There aren’t any more High Mages.”
I don’t know. With one explosion, I could have believed that they somehow discovered something that had belonged to Amcaro. But eight? The High Mage would have never been so careless to make so many.
“Are you listening to me? What do we do?” asked Markus.
Conroy blinked away his thoughts and raised the spyglass once again. Through the dust and smoke, he saw glimpses of the battlefield. His cavalry charge had been turned back and Kaz’s wings had closed in on the sides of his troops. One of the explosions had rocked the center of the V formation, turning it into shambles. He could not blame his soldiers for breaking. No one had used Nitroglycas in hundreds of years. He never thought to prepare them for that possibility. In fact, if he hadn’t read so much history, he would have been as shocked as Markus.