Chapter 19

Despite the fury of their enemy’s attack, the 1^st company of Captain Minetos was in good shape. The Raiders in front of us had suffered a fearsome toll from our archers. In fact, there weren’t any men immediately behind the enemy formation to fill the empty places in their line. However, enemy skirmishers had begun sweeping our open flank, which was a dangerous threat. The Amarians were formation fighters, each warrior was trained to depend on the shield next to him, turn their flank and their whole fighting system unraveled. I saw an Amarian warrior get blindsided by the enemy flankers, taking a spear in the thigh.

My mouth felt dry, but I yelled “Wolves, follow me!”

“To Lord Solon!” my men shouted, taking up a battle cry.

“Charge!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, sprinting to the closest Raider.

I body checked the surprised man, careening him into his companion. My shield arm stung at the impact, but I was satisfied to see both Raiders crashing to the ground. The second man lost the grip on his axe when he fell. Grimly, I buried my sword in his throat. The first Raider had gained his senses and watched in horror as I removed my weapon from his friend and stepped to him. He pissed himself, frozen in fear, which gave me time to step over his partner and stab him in his unprotected stomach. His spear fell from his hands as he screamed. All around me, the Wolves fell on the unsuspecting skirmishers. A couple of screams and curses caught my attention, two large warriors had singled me out. The two men carried a spear and a shield, otherwise they were unarmored. Both were only seven feet away, skirting around the front line with the bulk of their lightly armored skirmishers.

“You killed my brother!” One of the Raiders shouted, charging straight at me with a leveled spear. With every step he took, his menacing face contorted with hatred.

Out of nowhere, a hand axe whirled at me. Reflexively, I lifted my shield. The axe harmlessly banged against the metal; a third man at the edge of my vision had engaged me from only a few feet away. I took a step backwards, not having any time to chide myself for carelessness. The two large men snapped off a few more curses and attacked me. Fortunately, one of them stumbled on the dead man at my feet, distributing the timing of their combined assault. Everything else around me faded to background noise, as I fought them.

The Raider’s brother tried to skewer me in the leg, expecting his partner to smash my shield. I parried the spear and bashed him in the face with my own shield. He screamed and jumped back. The other spearman tried to slam into me with his round shield, to knock me off balance. I stepped diagonally, so his blow glanced off my shield. I looked for the third Raider, but I was relieved to see he was on his knees with an arrow in his shoulder. “Lucky, a Royal Archer was watching my back,” I thought. The man still held another throwing axe; yet, he was momentarily stunned.

This time both Raiders thrust at me at the same time, over and over. I barely got my shield between one of the thrusts and my body. I didn’t have the angle to avoid both for long, since they had spread apart from each other. I felt another body on the ground at my heel, and then jumped back over it. The men hadn’t expected the move, they thrust into thin air. However, a Wolf slammed against my side as he struggled with a Raider next to him. The force of the hit unbalanced me, letting my two opponents recover and take my former space. I felt another push against me, and then saw the Wolf next to me stumbled to one knee. My heels sank into the sand.

“Help, Lord Solon!” he shouted. The Wolf’s head was bleeding, having taken a brutal blow.

I backhanded his opponent with my shield, which sent the Raider’s rusty sword flying. It was all I could do to help, before parrying the Raider’s brother again. The man’s friend lunged at me, but I’d recovered and swept my shield down to deflect his thrust. Having enough, I spun towards the Raider and sliced his leg open. He wavered a moment, then fell, crippled. I spun again, putting the injured man between me and his partner.

Julie jumped the other Raider. The man lost his head to her sword, spraying blood everywhere. The grisly act startled my other opponent, making it easy for me to finish off the crippled Raider. Next to me, the Wolf had recovered and was back on his feet; someone else had finished his opponent. I looked around us, tasting the coppery tang of blood dribbled from my nostrils. I licked my lips and tasted the blood from the cut before spitting it out onto the ground. The surviving skirmishers were fleeing back to the pine trees. We had cleared the flank.

“We’ve got them boys!” Scout shouted. Scratch was next to him employing hand commands to our men. The Wolves were all breathing hard, but alert. Based on their training, our warriors almost instinctively set a circle of protection around Julie and me.

“What took you so long?” I asked Julie, while looking over our other companions. For the most part, the Wolves looked whole. Only a few of our men looked wounded; fortunately, none of them were among the dead at our feet.

“Jerk,” she answered. “I had my own pair of slavers to deal with. They outnumbered us three-to-one until Scratch arrived with the rest of the Wolves.”

“Still, you’re the one with the marine training,” I kidded.

Julie rolled her eyes. “You’re the warlord.”

“White Wizard,” I answered, still dragging in deep breaths from the recent exertion.

“What happened to your nose?” Julie asked. Her sword and shield were covered in other people’s blood.

“I managed to smash my nose while shield bashing a couple of guys,” I vented.

“Marines are trained better than that,” she retorted, but added a loving smile.

I hugged her. We both took a few deep breaths to restore our normal breathing patterns.

Zetia ran into view with her bow loaded with an arrow that was pointed at the ground. She joined the Wolves that were guarding us. It was clear she had experience on a battlefield. Her head swiveled to take in the field in front of her, sweeping left and right. Not far away, the Captain’s 1^st company was still fighting their greatly-diminished opponent’s host. The 1^st company was very much intact; whereas, the Raiders were wavering and taking steps backward.

However, from our perspective on the left flank of the Amarian line, the rest of the battlefield was under a fog of war. The fighting next to us obscured the rest of the conflict. Scratch looked at me for orders. He had lost a corner of his shield somehow.

“Let’s break their back,” I shouted at him sweeping my sword above my head, and then pointing at the faulting enemy formation. “Form a flying wedge on me!”

In accordance with their orders, the Wolves broke the protective circle and deployed into a triangular formation. Julie and Scout seized the first two slots, on each side of me and a step behind. Another three Wolves took their position behind them, and the rest of the Wolves filled in the rest of the other positions. The walking wounded took the rearmost places in the last row on men. As unit leaders, Scratch and Zetia knew their places were at the back edges of the wedge. Two minutes later, everyone was in place.

“At the Trot, advance!” I shouted, over my shoulder.

The thump of feet followed me. We didn’t yell or beat our shields as we swung wide of the battle to get a better angle on our foes. The clash of steel was ringing in the air from the battle, along with the cries of the wounded. In fact, the hideous noise of battle hid the jostling sounds of our armor, scabbards and other gear. Our approach went unnoticed. The enemy had expected their skirmishers to keep their flank secure. I thrust my sword into the back of a Raider and pushed him forward into another man. Julie and Scout did likewise as they smashed the slaver’s rear row at the edge of their war band. Of course, more Wolves pressed forward into the rear too.

“Run. Save yourselves,” cried a Raider trapped between us and the Amarian front line.

“Retreat,” another Raider shouted with more authority, this time further away from us.

It was my luck an oversized berserker ran at me and bashed me with his shield. My shoulder socket throbbed from the collision. I’d flexed my knees and used my own shield to try and deflect him. A man next to me speared the wild-eyed monster. The monster looked at the Amarian in surprise as he received a few more thrusts into his side. I only had to step back and the huge warrior fell over.

In no time we cut down all the slavers between us and Captain Minetos’s men. In fact, like a flock of turkeys in flight, what was left of the Raider formation fighting the 1^st company broke, screaming and running away. Many threw their shields away to shed the weight, and a few threw their weapons down after bolting out of reach. The Wolves gave chase for a dozen steps, and then stopped as they realized I hadn’t ordered a pursuit. The Amarians stood and gave a halfhearted cheer. Their front-line warriors looked exhausted. I heard the hum of a laser, which surprised me, so I turned. Julie’s sword was stuck in the ground and she had her pistol out. She fired, burning down a well-armored man that was running among the Raiders.

Julie holstered her pistol and looked at me. “He called the retreat. I pegged him as a leader.”

“Good thinking,” I commented.

It was too much to hope that no one would associate her weapon with the warrior’s death, but I understood her decision. Removing enemy leaders was a time-tested method for winning a battle. It really wasn’t our intent to let others know about our advanced weapons. However, we had a personal understanding that we wouldn’t second guess each other on the choice of the pistol’s use. Her weapon hummed, signaling its recharge. She holstered the pistol, and then cleaned her sword off on a dead Raider. I sensed that losing her favorite Wolf, who had been our regular door guard, had changed things in her mind. It wasn’t fair for me to make any judgments, nor was it the time to limit the carnage.

“Lord Solon,” Scratch said, pulling me back from my thoughts. I saw most of the Wolves were gathering around, and Zetia was with Julie again, looking towards the enemy.

I sheathed my sword and patted Scratch on the shoulder. “A fine day,” I declared.

“Yes, Sir,” he responded. “We’ve three men with sword arm wounds.”

“Have them retire to the mules,” I ordered. “The way things are looking a few more steadfast men guarding our mules is important.”

“My very thought, Sir,” Scratch said. He turned and stalked off.

Looking around, I could see the Amarians next to us were looting the dead Raiders. They looked leaderless and that was troubling, since I suspected their sister company wasn’t doing well. The last I had seen the 2^nd company looked hard pressured by the enemy, being driven back towards the road, which was causing a large bow in the Amarian battle-line.

“Zetia, form us up in a double-line, perpendicular to the enemy line.” I ordered. “Julie and I will be back in a minute.”

Zetia held her bow with two hands in a horizontal position in front of chest, creating a guide stick for where the line should form. “Form on me!”

With sword in hand, Julie followed me to the closest Amarians. A couple of blood splattered warriors were bent over, looting the dead and didn’t see us coming.

“Who is in charge here,” I demanded. The heads of both men popped up. They silently looked at each other for guidance.

“Don’t know,” one of them mumbled while standing up straight.

“We haven’t seen the Captain in some time,” the other answered, tucking a money pouch into his shirt.

“Get in line with my men. We have to save ourselves or do you want to feed the ravens?” I swung my sword point towards the Wolves to emphasize my point. “This battle isn’t over.”

After the briefest hesitation, they grabbed their spears and ran over to Zetia. Julie and I spent the next five minutes collecting other wayward warriors. We continued our manpower collection until we found a wounded Amarian sergeant limping around. He was organizing his wounded men. His shield was hung on his back, it was split but functional.

“The 2^nd company is about to collapse,” I yelled at the startled Amarian sergeant. “We need to form a new line of resistance. The Raiders will be upon us next.”

He looked around the wounded men at his feet, and then at what was left of his company’s formation. A fair number of warriors were still standing in their ranks, waiting for leadership. We were still close enough to the 2^nd company to hear the rushing sounds of combat. The sergeant’s face changed from its sorrowful expression to one of determination. I think he had only come to the realization that no officers were directing his men. He took his shield off his back and worked his arm into to its straps, and then tugged his spear out of a dead Raider. It took a couple of pulls to free the weapon from the ribs of the body.

When he had collected his weapon, he pointed at the Wolves. “Form up in two rows, next to those men.” He jabbed towards Julie to punctuate his command.

He had to repeat himself to break through his men’s clouded minds. “1^st company form up in line. This fight isn’t over you lazy bastards!”

“Form up.” I repeated, pointing towards the Wolves with my sword.

The Amarians had listened to us long enough to know to form up in a long line, two deep. Their previous ragged formation eventually shifted into something meaningful. Our thin line now extended a long distance, facing perpendicular to the former battle line. We formed up in time to see the 2^nd company disintegrate into pockets of resistance. The enemy’s weight of numbers combined with a depleted reserve force was too much for Captain Minetos’ 2^nd company. The Raiders broke the Amarian line. Furthermore, I could see the regiment next to them was in a similar condition.

“I’m surprised the Amarians haven’t broken yet,” Julie whispered in my ear.

“Me too. Me too,” I replied solemnly. The outcome of the battle looked bleak.

Surveying the scene, I noticed Princess Wyrd and her bodyguards were with a squad of foot soldiers, not far behind the collapsing line. “Shit,” I thought. “Why haven’t her bodyguards gotten her out of there? How did she get over there?”

The Royal Archers had moved closer to Princess Wyrd too. “Thank Moon Mother for that,” I thought.

Julie unnecessarily chastised me in full marine mode. “There is no time to gawk.”

I ignored her statement and ran up to the back of the Wolves. “Forward at the walk, March.”

Our line staggered forward as the Amarians slowly took to my command, following the example of the Wolves. Zetia roamed behind the two rows of men, still carrying her bow. Julie stayed close to me, almost on my heels, as I encouraged our men. Scratch was the last man in the line and the closest to the pine forest. For the moment, I’d lost track of Scout and the 1^st company sergeant.

I had to watch where I was walking. Dead and dying Raiders with arrow shafts in them littered our path. I almost tripped over a sobbing man that was on his back. He had a gut wound. Irritated, I gave him a mercy stroke, which quieted him. Warriors up and down our line were doing the same thing, almost without breaking a stride. The medieval level of medicine gave the seriously wounded almost no chance of survival. I had performed the seriously injured Raider a favor. Yet, I tried not to think about the new collection of men that would enter my nightmares. I could never forget the faces of the men I’d killed, no matter how righteous I’d felt.

A crossbow bolt whizzed by me. “They’ve noticed death is at their door. Keep the line steady! Don’t go charging off,” I yelled out, while avoiding a thorn bush.

I heard a familiar whoosh of an arrow being fired from behind me. In the field ahead of us, I saw an enemy crossbowman spurt a feathered shaft in his chest.

Zetia exclaimed, “Got the bastard!”

“She is so dramatic sometimes,” Julie stated, with a humorous tone.

I grunted, while looking down the spear line of the 1^st company. We had no depth to our attacking force, but we had an impressively long line of organized warriors. We had less than forty feet until we reinforced the buckling line. Zetia shot a few more arrows. I continued to stab every Raider’s body I stepped over to make sure they were dead.

We couldn’t hurry up our line without disrupting it, so we maintained our walking pace. Time seemed to slow down the closer we stepped to the devastated 2^nd company. Each step increased the tension among our men. Every sound seemed to become sharper, every color brighter, as we saw men turned to raw hamburger in front of us. The Amarian ahead of me shifted nervously, but he remained brave enough to hang next to his shield mate’s shoulder. Behind our advancing line, I shifted over a few feet to move directly behind our Wolves

A minute later enemy horns blew near the road. The long moaning sound probably was trying to warn the war bands of our presence. For some reason a rising rage filled me as I thought the enemy would try to spoil our assault. However, the massive melee before us had no formation on either side of the line. Men driven half-mad with battle lust were too far gone to listen to horns of command. The Raiders slaughtering the 2^nd company hadn’t noticed us. Even with the 3^rd company, feeding in men to hold off the massive attack on the 2^nd company, their numbers had been savaged. Not surprisingly, the chorus of the battle’s clash became dreadfully loud as we cut the distance to the back of the fighting.