The Rawn Chronicles Book One: The Orrinn and the Blacksword: Unabridged (The Rawn Chronicles Series 1) (9 page)

The two evenly matched sides continued to shout abuse at each other. Stone slingers on the rebel side would rush out some distance to shorten their range, and strike at the unwary front rank; some would find their mark. One of the slingers got to close and was speared though the chest for his stupidity. Ness Ri knew from past experience that both sides were psyching each other out and their warriors’ ardour was up.

Presently, there was some slight movement in the rebel force. A small gap opened up to allow a lean, muscled warrior wearing a high-ridged helmet and carrying a broadsword tightly held by both hands over his shoulder; he wandered halfway to the allied lines.

The Rite of Ancarryn, or the champion’s bout, was a traditional duel fought before battle. Those men who were superstitious saw it as a good omen for the outcome of a battle if their champion won.

“A worthy adversary for the Red Duke, don’t you think?” asked Saltyn Ri.

Ness Ri had to admit that the warrior was formidable. The rebels’ voices grew loud as they chanted their champion’s name.

A cheer from the Rogun side went up as Lord Rett exited casually from the ranks. He walked to within four feet of his opponent and he looked very small against him even in his armour. He stood still leaving his sword unsheathed. The rules forbade Rawn Masters in summoning elemental powers during the Ancarryn; only weapon skills mattered here.

There was a pause as they looked at each other; Ness Ri assumed that some words passed between the combatants, because the rebel champion shrugged and then hefted the long broadsword downwards in an arc towards the Red Duke’s head.

What happened next was too quick even for the keen eyes of the Ris on the hillside to see. The rebel’s broadsword imbedded into the ground where the duke had stood, and Lord Rett had Selnour in his hand, finishing his own quick move with a single sword strike.

As if in slow motion, a long stream of blood that seemed to attach the rebel champion’s head to his neck disappeared into a fine spay of mist. The head in question bounced twice on the damp earth and stopped face down. A huge cheer went up from the allies; Rett kicked off the champion’s helmet, picked up the head and showed the stunned rebels their defeated hero.

“Our herald is missing his head; this will be an adequate substitute,” he shouted, and walked back to his lines, where he received applause from the soldiers.

Verbal communications on both sides broke down at that point.

Mad-daimen unleashed his archers first; a mass of black arrows filled the sky. The allies squatted behind their shields and flinched at the impact; some screams issued along the ranks as the bodkins found their targets and pierced flesh. Ness Ri watched as his king sat his horse calmly behind the rows of shielded men, the arrows fell like sharp rain around him; if any came close, he would beat them away with the wind element which he quickly summoned with a wave of his arms.

The problem that the allies had was the weather and the dim early evening light; the black arrows were hard to see against the dark clouds. Many men fell against this torrent of sharp hail due to that fact.

When the rebel bombardment stopped, the allied kings ordered their own longbow archers up, and another storm of arrows flew through the air, this time in the opposite direction. Mad-daimen’s host took the brunt of the allied volley gracefully, but the archers never stopped firing down upon the rebels. Soon, the enemy host would break.

After several minutes of constant battering, Mad-daimen gave the order to charge through the boggy field of white-feathered arrows. The Rogun front rank of spear and shield footmen braced for the impact of several thousand screaming warriors running over the wet ground. Hail had turned to sleet and the rainwater splashed out of puddles by thousands of booted feet as the Nithi host charged forward in an undulating surge.

The enemy slammed into the Rogun front rank of spearmen with such a force that the whole Rogun host fell back several paces before they dug into the slick ground and started to push back. Officers screamed out orders to hold the wall of overlapping shields and quickly fill gaps should any soldier fall.

Rebel soldiers screamed as spear points pierced their flesh due to the push from the rear and the attacks momentum. Nithi axmen tilted Rogun shields and hacked down, slicing through helmet and skull. The ground pummelled into a morass of mud, and footing was hard to find by soldiers on both sides. The Roguns began to slowly fall back under the weight of the Nithi.

Lord Rett rode into the enemy left flank with fifty horses in a V-shaped formation. It had the effect of splitting men off from one side of the enemy, but those men ran back to their second lines, where a row of spears greeted the Red Duke’s men on the outskirts of the marshes. The duke saw the danger of the softer ground just in time and gave a hand signal to his men, who wheeled their horse’s right, in a well-executed formation. The enemy was trying to bog them into the marsh, where they would be easy pickings.

Lord Ness could see the rebel tactics as well as Lord Rett. They had mainly attacked the Rogun right flank and had succeeded in pushing them around one hundred and eighty degrees. Mad-daimen’s archers fired at close range into the Sonoran ranks to keep them pinned. A gap had opened up in the middle of their lines as it began to disintegrate, and King Hagan rushed in with a handful of Carras Knights and infantry to close it.

Carras Knights on the Sonoran left braved the boggy terrain and dispersed the archers, cutting most down were they stood. However, they were slowed by the wet ground and caught by the rebel spears; there followed a short battle there as the knights eventually disengaged with half of their original number.

The rebel spears from the second formation ran straight towards the Sonoran Kings thinly organised formation that now filled the gap, which included a mix of allied soldiers’ only two lines deep. However, they bravely held as the rebels attacked. King Hagan and his knights aided the front ranks from behind, using their longer lances to spear the enemy.

Nithi axmen slipped through their own warriors, started to hack at heads and shins, trying to prise open the gap again. One saw Hagan not far from him and threw his axe with a mighty grunt; it turned end over end towards the king, but Hagan saw it just in time and leant to his side as the axe sailed past him. A knight behind the king caught it in his chest, and blood gushed from his mouth and stained his armour. Hagan roared and charged into the enemy with his knights at his side to try to relieve the pressure. He was in danger of becoming surrounded in the press of battle as the enemy moved closer.

Lord Ness looked with concern at the battle lines; the Roguns had stalled the shove from the rebel attack, even though there were more rebels attacking in that area than there were against the Sonoran side. The positioning had changed too, now they had moved almost parallel to the Vallkyte ridgeline.

He looked up at that ridge now and saw the Vallkyte force watching on the very edge; they arrayed in their thousands with Royal Standard raised and heraldic banners flapping in the wind. He also noted that they were far more in number than led to believe.

“Why does he not attack? Hagan could use the help,” he said to Saltyn Ri who did not answer. His next concern was Mad-daimen standing within his bodyguards with what was left of his second line. He could not fail to see Kasan now, if he was worried about the Vallkyte host he did not show it.

The Rogun Regiment of Horsed Archers were changing the tide of the battle with their curved composite bows and shorter ranged arrows. They moved up and down their beleaguered right wing firing shafts at will into the rebel’s flanks with every pass. It slackened off the stalemate and the Roguns were able to push back.

King Kasan took that moment to attack.

Ness Ri was shocked. The Vallkytes were attacking in one long line straight into the Rogun and Sonoran rear.

“What?” he cried.

The effect was devastating. Carras Knights either dispersed or pulled down as the running tide swarmed over their positions, the rear lines of the allied force crumbled and the Vallkytes now surrounded the Sonorans. Mad-daimen, now suddenly animated into action, charged with all of his reserves into the fray.

Then the Ri felt it, the use of a Rawn Arts, and it was coming from behind him.

Saltyn Ri had summoned a large blazing fireball and was holding it with both hands. He starred at Lord Ness with narrow hate filled eyes and a crooked sneer.

“Saltyn, what are you…?” said Lord Ness as he turned.

Saltyn used the wind element to throw the fireball at him with incredible speed. Ness Ri barely had time to protect himself as the fire stuck him and lifted him off his feet with the sheer force of the impact. Flame surrounded his entire body as he plummeted into the dark abyss below.

King Vanduke did not see his consul’s flaming body fall from the high cliff. He was looking in the opposite direction at the attack from the rear.

“Kasan you traitorous bastard, you’ve deceived us!” he growled to himself through gritted teeth.             

He noticed that Nithi warriors augmented the Vallkyte host’s numbers. Many thousands were running into the fight. In the distance, he could just see the enemy surrounding the Sonoran King.

“By the gods...Hagan!” He spurred his mount to go to his brother’s aid, but was stopped by Lord Rett who appeared by his side.

“No, Sire!” he said in a sharp tone, and pointed to the north behind the king.

Vanduke turned and saw a mass of Vallkyte infantry running towards them, trying to block off any retreat.

Over on the Sonoran left, Hagan’s men died in droves all around him. He could see small islands of his men fighting for their lives. The smell of newly spilt blood and horse sweat clawed at his nostrils. The screams of the dying pierced his ears. He shouted out commands, but the control of battle was slipping from his grasp.

An arrow fired from close range hit him in the leg through his armour.

Another from behind pierced his right shoulder; he yelled in pain as he fought off Nithi and Vallkytes with figure of eight sweeps of his sword from his saddle.

An axe man got through his defence and struck his horse in the neck just above the animal’s own laminate plating. The axe lodged deep inside the mare as she reared, and the king fell heavily to the ground. The axe’s owner received a kick in the head from the flailing hooves of the dying horse and he collapsed to the ground. Hagan recovered quickly and continued to fight. He healed the wound in his shoulder around the arrow shaft to give him better mobility with the sword. Soon, a circle of dead surrounded him and he used hardened blasts of air fashioned from the third element to smash away approaching shield men before they encircled him. He was growing weaker by the minute.

Other unhorsed knights came to his aid. Now that he was on the ground, he did not have the advantage of height to see how the battle fared, but it was not going well.

The Roguns had an advantage on the right. Because their horsed archers had thinned the rebel ranks, they now turned their attention on the Vallkyte infantry moving in from the north, and fired volley after volley into the attacking line. It had the effect of stalling the charge for the Roguns to regroup.

Lord Rett had quickly ordered his Carras Knights to charge the Vallkytes coming from the north. The lightly armoured foot soldiers were no match for a charging column of heavy horse, and they soon disappeared under their hooves.

“You must order a breakout, Sire,” said Lord Rett to the king.

Vanduke had seen his brother fall from his horse. He could also see a white-armoured knight riding through the ranks towards Hagan’s position.

“Yes... of course, breakout now.” The strain was evident on his face.

Inside the shrinking mass of the Sonoran host, Hagan’s knights fell one by one to the burly enemy axmen. Sir Perrin, a young knight, was the only one left by his side, and he could barely stand because of his wounds; he turned to the king. “It has… been... a... a pleasure serving with ... you, Sire.”

He ran limping into the mass of enemy and was swallowed up by the multitude.

Hagan breathed hard; surrounded, yet no one came near him. Then the sea of faces opened up and King Kasan walked towards him, his white armour now stained red like the colour of his shoulder guards.

“Ahh... the cunning traitor has appeared,” said Hagan. “What are you gaining from all of this? What did you promise the Nithi?”

“Everything... but I’ll take your head as down payment!” said Kasan, and, with sword in his right hand and battle-axe in the other, he attacked his brother.

The Roguns struggled to breakout; only half their number made it; the Vallkyte and Nithi officers saw their escape and regrouped the soldiers to follow. Vanduke could see in the distance that a circle formed around Kasan and Hagan; tears welled in his eyes.

Hagan was weak from his wounds and from the use of his powers. He also knew from experience that Kasan was a far more skilled fighter than he was. Nevertheless, he went into the attack with a mad rage and caught his brother off guard, denting the beautiful white armour at the chest and slicing a deep gash into his side.

Kasan did not even flinch from the wound, he swung his axe into an upward angle and it slammed into Hagan’s gut, lifting the Sonoran King off his feet and over a pile of bodies. There were cheers from the surrounding men.