In horror Captain Jansa looked at what lay ahead of the Tasa’Anna. The narrow channel took a sharp turn that no ship under full sail could ever have made. To make matters worse the cliff overhung the channel at that point. The over
hanging cliff would rip every main mast clear off the ship!
The fleet watched in horrified fascination as the flagship neared the sharp curve and the low overhang. Water began to boil up near an up thrust of one of the bay’s rocky teeth. A great rubbery bulk rose out of the sea and hauled itself up the rocky breaker opposite of the sharp curve. It was a giant squid!
It was easily over half the size of the flagship itself. Some of its tentacles encircled the rocky pier it clung to. As the Tasa’Anna entered the beginning of the curve the re
maining tentacles and whips of the great sea monster shot out and fastened to the upper masts of the ship and began to pull the Tasa’Anna over onto its side.
The ship, under the strain of the pulling tentacles, tacked over until the side rail
ing of the ship almost dipped under the foamy waves of the sea. The heeled over masts cleared the cliff overhang even as the Tasa’Anna swung around the sharp curve pivoted by the straining squid that held doggedly onto it. The Tasa’Anna shot out into the clear waters of the bay righting itself as the squid let go of it, even as a second great blue whale rose to bolster the ship’s speed toward the beach.
Sailors and soldiers alike jumped up and down in amazed excitement.
“Onward men!” Cried Captain Jansa at the top of his lungs, as he drew his saber and gestured toward the fast approaching sands of the beach.
“Of a truth our God is the Master of the universe and all creation!
Onward for He is with us this day!”
The giant bulk of the squid slid off its rocky pier back into the sea to soon disappear beneath the stirred up waters of the channel. The whales bore their cargoes steadfastly toward the beach only letting them go at the last moment be
fore they nearly beached themselves on the sandy shore.
The Tranquil Islander boats skipped through the shallows to then thud thunderously into the sands of the beach. Soldiers and sailors alike boiled over the sides of the ships and ran up the beach and past the Shrine to the dirt work fortifi
cations beyond, over thirty thousand strong in number.
The tattered line of warriors gathered on the mound top watched them come upwards toward them looking to each other repeatedly to make sure they weren’t alone in what they had just seen transpire on the ocean blue. This was a day of days and all they could think, as they stood weary and bloody, but resolute of will, was how blessed they were to be a part of something so grand, as the wondrous works of their Creator were shown to light in the time of this day.
Nadalarkin glanced up at me and nodded, as if words couldn’t provide an adequate description for what we had just scene and I tended to agree with him. I saw Captain Jansa in the press of men making their way to the mound top.
“I see you managed to come through after all Captain. Thank you for coming! I only hope it’s to something more positive than our deaths at their hands.” I said gesturing to
the approaching enemy that had temporarily halted their ad
vance to just outside arrow range.
There appeared to be con
fusion among the massed ranks of enemy soldiers as to why they were suddenly so many of us before them, when they had thought us almost beaten and few in number.
Captain Jansa looked up to me, “Whether we live or we die we’re here to fight, even if it be to the last one of us in a glorious defeat! We fight by our friend’s side for the free
dom of our two peoples!”
“Perhaps not to the death after all Captain Jansa.
Look!” I said pointing.
To the south behind the enemy army on the plain rose a large dust cloud that grew larger and larger. General Nadero had made it!
The enemy had also noticed the cloud of dust, but not as soon as they should have as their focus had been entirely directed upon us and our resurgent numbers. The cloud of dust grew no closer, but rose to hang in the air. Slowly out of the dissipating dust the ranks of marching men materialized even as a long un
broken stream of cavalry cut off to the side in the direction of the western shore.
General Nadero intended to cut the enemy off from any support by their fleet, which was gathering offshore. The militia stood in the way of any retreat back to the enemies
homeland in the south.
My eyes drifted to the northeast to see that General Santaran’s army had materialized from hiding and was quickly
approaching the battle. He had his ten thousand strong cavalry contingent aligned along his left flank, prob
a
bly to offer quick support to the militia brigades should they have need of it.
The field of battle was set and the trap sprung with the enemy caught in the middle. Now all that remained was to see if the Attorgron slave warriors were convinced enough to join in with us, if not it would be them that General Santaran’s warriors encountered first, as the Attorgrons were aligned along the left side of the ene
mies formation before us at the Shrine.
There was a flurry of action within the enemy ranks and it soon became clear that taking the Shrine had fallen to the bottom of the list of priorities. The Zoarinians had never overly favored the use of cavalry in their military strategy rather the use of heavy infantry in
stead. They had but forty thousand of their own cavalry, most of which were lancers.
Lancers were good for charges on ground units, but not so good in the pressed confines of a melee fight with other cavalry. All of the Zoarinian cavalry sheeted off to form a long line facing General Nadero’s cav
alry that had drawn up in the sands of the western shore and was now busy forming their own line of formation.
I called down to Nadalarkin, who looked up at my call, “Bring the horses up from the beach and mount the remain
der of our men on them. When the battle is joined we will ride towards the western shore and attack the enemy cavalry
from the rear after they’ve engaged with General Nadero’s cavalry.”
“Yes Roric!” Nadalarkin said quickly making his way off the mound call
ing out to the Valley Lander warriors to join him.
A group of sea captains had formed around me and I turned to them now, “When the battle is joined and only af
ter it has been joined, take your men and attack the enemy’s flank. Do not attack too early, as it is unclear yet whether the Attorgrons are friend or foe!”
They saluted as one and I left them with, “Godspeed my friends!” before I made my way towards the western side of the fortification line watch
ing the field of battle take shape as I did so.
The militia was moving up quickly from the south and General Santaran’s more rested warriors were moving even more quickly towards the front lines of the Attorgrons, while his cavalry had drawn into a support position for the militia in
the south. General Nadero seemed content to let the en
e
my make the first move and sat waiting with his cavalry aligned along the beach at almost equal numbers with the opposing cavalry force that was arrayed against him.
From the enemy’s shift of ground troops it became quickly clear that they were primarily concerned with the elimination of the militia to the south, which cut their escape to their homeland off. It was also the softest target and the most likely to be over
come quickly. If they broke the militia they would then probably sweep around the back of General
Santaran’s forces, which was why he had proba
bly sent his cavalry to bolster the militia’s line.
A wise move on his part, but would it be enough?
I doubted it.
Everything hinged on the Attorgrons and what they would do. They had separated away from the main body of the army slightly towards General Santaran and appeared to be setting up a defensive line, while the bulk of the Zoarinian army was shifting to attack the militia at the rear.
Then it happened. I thanked the Creator fervently, as I watched the slave warrior’s change of heart unfold. The Attorgron archers abruptly slipped through the formed shield wall of their spearmen towards General Santaran even as the wings of the shield wall of spearmen broke off and charged into the massed ranks of regular army cavalry that were split into two equal flanking groups of twenty five thousand each on either side of the long spear wall.
The Attorgron cavalry were in a state of complete consternation, as they were speared off of their own horses by their own slave warriors. In the close con
fines and with the element of surprise firmly on their side the spearmen carved their way into the cavalry contingents to either side of them with relative ease setting off complete chaos as they did so.
The central core of the spear wall of spearmen did an abrupt about face and locked their shields together even as a massive short ranged volley of arrows shot out over their heads into the congested mass of the Zoarinian army. The Zoarinians were thrown into complete turmoil at the unexpectedness of the attack of ar
rows that dropped thousands of unsuspecting soldiers.
The betrayal of the Attorgrons abruptly changed the course of the battle, as the Zoarinians were forced to change their focus away from the militia to the traitors in their midst. They attacked the spear wall in mass with little for
mation or order involved in the attack.
General Nadero’s cavalry started out in a brisk trot towards the enemy intent on taking advantage of the turmoil present in their disorganized ranks. Their movement forward sparked a reaction from the enemy cavalry that took off at an uneven start to
wards General Nadero’s approaching line of cavalry.
General Santaran’s warriors ran through the ranks of Attorgron archers to strengthen the hard pressed forward shield wall of the Attorgron slave warriors. On the flanks of the formation they swept through the remaining Attorgron cavalry, finishing what the spearmen had begun.
The fighting was close and intense as the Zoarinian soldiers real
ized that the odds were no longer on their side. The approaching militia had seemingly been forgotten in the chaos and they now swept towards the enemy’s southern flank uncontested, even as the Tranquil Islanders, with a wild yell, started down the dirt work fortifications in a charge towards the western flank of the enemies battle line.
There was an opportunity to be had here and I hoped General Santaran could see it. I wheeled Flin to the side to
see the remnant of warriors that had survived the earlier battle for the Shrine mounted behind me led by Nadalarkin.
Their horses shifted about nervously, as if they were eager to take part in the battle that was raging beyond us in unbridled in
tensity.
“To me!”
I yelled, as I wheeled Flin around and plunged down the mound weaving in and around the forward facing sharpened stakes.
They followed me screaming with renewed energy from some deep well of being, as they charged up and over the mound top to plunge down over after me. Up ahead of me I could see the kicked up dirt of the Zoarinian lancers, as they charged in a full gallop at the onrushing Valley Lander cav
alry ahead of them.
Flin seemed to float across the ground covering the distance with ease and I relished the feel of the powerful horse beneath me that was as committed to the battle as I was. The several hundred mounted warriors at my back were strung out in a loose line, as they urged their mounts harder to catch up with Flin. Regretfully I eased Flin back off some to let them come abreast of me. As the wind rushed past us I saw the two virtually equal cavalry contingents ahead of us con
nect together with a terrific force of impact.
Horses flipped over forwards and warriors were sent hurtling through the air to be crushed in the melee of pounding hooves or impaled on lowered lances. The fighting turned vicious as broken lances were dropped and swords and maces were drawn out as the two sides fought to get close in to each other.
Those fallen in the initial impact of furious contact were
trampled over by the riders around them in their wild desire to kill each other and survive.
The wind whipped by my face, as we plunged toward the backs of the halted melee driven enemy ahead of us. I knew a moment of savage joy, when I saw General Santaran’s mounted warriors ten thousand strong surging towards the backs of the melee engrossed enemy cavalry on their southern flank, even as we were doing on their northern flank. He had seen the oppor
tunity presented just as I had, when the enemy had redirected their attention from the weaker militia to attack the Attorgrons.
Letting the mighty warhorse beneath me have his way I let the reins fall, as I raised my sword above my head and gripped it in both hands as the line of the enemy drew near. I crashed into the side of a soldier’s mount, which had been in the process of turning to meet our attack from be
hind.
The rider’s eyes were wide with terror, as
Flin slammed into his horse.
Flin’s powerful momentum sent the other horse crashing over to the ground and we surged up and over both horse and rider. I swept my sword down to the left and then back up and down to the right as I hacked my way through the tight press of riders in front of me.
Flin was as vicious as I was. He slammed his way through the enemy mounts and I saw him reach out and grab one man’s arm with his teeth and yank the man from the
saddle with a pow
erful toss of his head only to trample over the man in the next instance. Flin needed no urging to fight a way through the enemy line.