Chapter 61:

On the appointed day, my army had already taken the field. The soldiers streamed out behind me, forming seemingly endless rows that stretched to the horizon. At least far enough that I couldn't see the end of the lines over the hills on either side.

I rode my horse parallel to the formation, nearly 100 feet out, letting the troops see me. This was normally the job of a King or some such leader, but Alana insisted that I do this myself. She even left my side for this. Not that I felt alone. Careful thought had gone into picking my armor and horse. The armor was a brilliant crimson with my chest on it. My head was uncovered, and my face was free. The stallion beneath me was pure white and a hand taller than most other horses. Every aspect of my image had been carefully cultivated to inspire confidence.

The minor pushback from the rest of the nobility had been stifled by the enthusiastic supporters. I had gained the faith of troops the last month and a half. From the setup to training drills that had been running for the past month, people started to believe. All the officers and men were extremely happy to see me out there. As I slowly walked the horse, a low thrum of cheering soldiers echoed in my ears. With a serious expression on my face, I looked down at the horse's mane in front of me as if deep in thought.

Every once in a while, I'd glance over at my enemy, where they sat in a row, commanders doing similar things as me.

Their numbers had surprised us. Apparently, they had learned that we knew they were coming and had planned accordingly. They outnumbered us two to one. But despite the nerves I was feeling, my soldiers didn't feel threatened at all. They had an absurd level of confidence, and only last night I had found out why.

A certain someone had been spreading legends about me. The tales I heard around the campfire and the songs that had been adapted to use my name were just absurd. There were songs about how I danced with death, stole a kiss, and then left it behind. How I had been soldiering since I was three years old. My mother was Battle, and my father was the March. How the gods themselves had taught me combat and how I had learned strategy from the goddess of war herself.

The reason why I confronted Alana about it was because I recognized one of the songs being sung. The particular song about dancing with the Master of Shadows is from a story I had told Alana a week or so before.

When I asked her about it, she simply laughed and said the camp rumor mill was a strange place. I didn't buy that for a second. But I trusted she knew what she was doing.

Still, my men were right not to feel too concerned. I was worrying a lot about everything, but we did have a plan. We had arrived at this battlefield two weeks ago and had been subtly preparing it ever since. There wasn't quite enough time to move the hills, but there were all sorts of other things we had time for.

The terrain was modified to be nearly perfect for what we wanted to do, similar to how I had arranged some of the first battles here. Boulders broke up where enemies would charge us. The ground was flat and level where we planned to attack in mass with our own forces.

Our troops were well-trained to follow orders and read the signaling flags that I had introduced. The large poles that held the flags were visible from all over the planes. We had made sure that the poles were tall enough.

The flags could relay commands that were much more complicated than the usual trumpet blasts. We had drilled endlessly. Until we could execute tight formations perfectly. Where we would have light cavalry hit and then heavy cavalry split through the center a half second later. There were plans to disguise heavy cavalry as light cavalry and light cavalry as heavy cavalry. We had more mounted infantry running drills with bows for the past month. They would be archers that moved with speed and then were 'accidentally' left behind but suddenly ready to fight. Our tricks were endless.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

The introduction of recurve bows was also a game-changer. They were small enough that they could be drawn from horseback with ease. And because of that, they could get much closer. Also, firing into a mass of enemies didn't require nearly as much training. The mass of crossbows and crossbow loaders hidden off to the side of the field was Alana's favorite surprise we had in store.

Alana had made several contributions, too. Her work with trebuchet calculations had proven useful, and a half-remembered black powder recipe had changed them from stones to primitive bombs. Those were some of the things I was most worried about doing damage to our forces, too. But all in all, I thought we had a pretty good chance to win decisively.

I stopped front and center of the ranks and held up one hand, a hush falling over the men. Not everyone could hear me, but the officers would repeat what I said to the men behind them. Alana had me practice giving this speech several times. Not practicing what I was going to say, but the pauses and the amount of time I would need for the words to travel without being overdramatic.

"My brothers in arms," I started, pausing for my sentence to be repeated all throughout the army. Once I saw the ripples die down in the back and over the sides of the hills, I continued, "This is the first clash and will not be your last clash. Before us stands your enemy, my enemy, the kingdom's enemy."

I paused, allowing my words to travel. "They come to take your land, to take your families, to change the way you live."

"But they cannot have it." I was worried that this would sound corny. Or someone would call me out for stealing from some fantasy author, but no one did. I was lucky to have nearly an endless supply of pithy and profound quotes that no one had ever heard.

"It is a long road ahead of us." The murmurs died down.

"It is a long road," I repeated, "but one we shall walk together!"

I drew my sword and lifted it high, yelling the last line. The words rippled through the ranks even as the cheers drowned them out. Rearing my horse, I wheeled, and with a slash of my sword downwards, I signaled the charge.

This was a bit off-script, but even as I moved, the line of horses and men surged forward in a carefully practiced set of maneuvers. I was at the head nearly 100 feet as I charged the enemy ranks. I was supposed to have stayed put and let them stream past me, but this was better. Judging by the noise behind me, it seemed to be far more inspiring.

I tuned all that out as the enemy started to stir. Their generals were still talking as I had been. But they had seen me still out in front so my last-minute decision had caught them off guard. Now, they were scrambling to get behind their lines. The speeches they had been giving were cut off, and their troops attempted to form a shield wall to meet our charge.

But I had a different idea. Right before I reached the range of their spears, I turned. Arrows from both sides started to pour out. I was targeted by several, but my sudden turn and running parallel along the enemy line caused many of the archers to miss as they attempted to hit me instead of the soldiers behind me.

All but the first few lines of lancers behind had bows, and they rained down arrows as fast as they could fire while riding into the enemy ranks. They didn't hit the shields in the first ranks but rather deeper into the formation, and it started to shift as the arrows landed.

As my horse galloped parallel to the enemy line, I carefully took my feet out of my stirrups and stood on my saddle.

Still holding my sword high, I gauged the timing of our charge. Just before they caught up with me, I leaped. Flashing with a Dance of the Jester, I slipped through the enemy's spears and over their lines.