Kaewyn sat upon his horse as the sweltering early morning sun beat down upon him. It was unusually hot today and he suspected the heat would only grow more intense as midday approached. He wiped at his brow and drank heavily from his waterskin in an effort to stay refreshed and alert. Across the field in the far-off distance, he watched the barbarian horde assemble from their siege camp. They marched out and formed a line of warriors to mirror the allied forces of Vinum and Greystone aligned against them. Varde Castle served as a backdrop behind the barbarians, still flying the white-green banners of House Callidus, though for how long was anybody’s guess.

It was eerily quiet amongst his own men, he noted, and other than the occasional cough or mutter, Kaewyn barely heard anything other than the soft rumbling coming from across the fields where the barbarians continued to form up. He understood their apprehension. It was no secret that they were greatly outnumbered. Furthermore, to keep their plan to lure the barbarians a secret, they had decided to only inform officers and those above in rank of the plan in its entirety. Kaewyn personally didn’t quite understand the logic in this, as the barbarians were understood to speak a completely different language to their own, but he supposed it was possible they had spies or turncoats who would gladly deliver such information to their enemy in exchange for mercy or possible reward. The thought of such individuals in his army angered him but he supposed that every army in history had its share of those who valued their own lives above that of their brothers in arms.

As they waited for the barbarians, Kaewyn found himself going over some of the finer details of their situation. He had tried to worry less of late but the habit of overthinking was one he still struggled with. He had taken personal command of the centre of their combined forces, while General Alaric and Lord Rhys had command of the right and left respectively. Rhys had protested at first that, as the Vinum forces were greater in number, he was giving up command of some of his own men to evenly split into three main groups. Kaewyn had resisted the urge to lose his temper then, and instead, he countered Rhys’ argument by pointing out that the cavalry had been placed under General Falke’s sole command. The cavalry being entirely comprised of Greystone men. His point made, Rhys relented in his protest, but not without an all too familiar scowl that had become common upon his once old friend’s face. Marcus had decided to remain in the rear with the fortifications he had ordered built. Ultimately, this was where the battle would be decided. Kaewyn hoped that Marcus and his builders had finished their construction by the time their retreating army arrived. The time and effort they had invested into it would be for naught

“There sure are a lot of them,” Yohren said hesitantly, standing next to his horse as he pointed across the fields that separated the two armies. “Speaking on their numbers during the meeting was all well and good Kaewyn, but actually seeing them for real is something else.”

Kaewyn and Yohren were positioned just behind their line of formed-up soldiers. The allied forces were nearly two-thousand infantry supported by roughly five-hundred cavalry. The infantry was four and sometimes five ranks deep. A secondary line of archers behind the main body was two ranks deep and also stretched the entirety of their line. If one were to stand at one edge of their forces and scream at the top of their lungs, the other side would still not be able to hear them. Because of this, the commanders of each section had soldiers standing by with many coloured flags and horns to signal each other at great distances. It wouldn’t do to have to wait for messengers to relay vital information during battle as any delays could result in defeat. Therefore, a system of flags and horns had been developed to ensure faster communication. Coloured flags were generally used before battle while horns were more often used in the heat of battle. A soldier in the midst of the chaos of fighting simply didn’t have the chance to look for a flag to know of any changes to their orders or what was going on in the greater scheme of the battle, but hearing a horn blow a learned pattern was much easier to receive. One combination of horn blows could mean to press the attack, while other might mean to hold one’s ground. Rapid blowing of the horns generally meant that the order to retreat had been given.

Kaewyn ordered Yohren to have the red flag hoisted and waved, signalling to General Alaric and Rhys that the time for battle had come. His officers immediately sprang into action and ordered the infantry to advance. The officers knew that the plan was to withdraw the Marcus’s fortifications so rather than advance to close to the barbarians and increase the distance they would have to withdraw later, the army was only advanced a short distance before stopping to reform and prepare. Kaewyn commanded for the archers to move ahead of the infantry as was customary for standard field battles. This position would allow them to loosen arrows on the approaching enemy sooner and when the enemy advanced close, they could simply withdraw back behind the infantry to safety.

Kaewyn saw across the fields that the barbarian army had stopped too, just shy of arrow range. Normally, at least according to the books on strategy and tactics in warfare that he had read in his youth, a skirmish would begin where both sides would jostle for advantage by pitting their bow or javelin equipped soldiers against each other. When one side felt that they were being beaten, they would then have to decide whether to charge to begin the battle, or to withdraw and regroup. If an army’s skirmish units were defeated and the army did neither of these things, then they would be peppered with arrows and other missiles, causing casualties and damage until a decision was made.

“Arlan?” He called out.

“Here, my lord,” Arlan replied as he rode up beside him on his white steed.

“You had better ride out and make your challenge before they start the skirmish.” He said. “Are you ready?”

Arlan nodded and then lifted his helmet over his head. He then tied the strap below his chin and flexed his shoulders. Arlan then gestured for his spear which Yohren handed to him. Kaewyn knew that he did not like the idea of deliberately losing the challenge and wanted to give words of comfort to his friend, but it was hard for him to think of what to say in the moment. He felt incredibly guilty for asking Arlan to sacrifice his honour in order to gain an advantage, but one man’s honour couldn’t compare to what they stood to lose if they were to, well, lose.

“I am ready, my lord.” Arlan said stoically.

“I appreciate what you are doing for us all, Arlan. I hope you know that.”

Arlan nodded his head.

Arlan spurred his horse forward and shouted for the infantry to make way for him as he trotted forwards. The soldiers parted as his white horse made its way out onto the field between the two armies. Sir Darius had taught Arlan exactly what to say in the barbarian tongue to entice Prince Odabek out for a fight. Kaewyn also felt guilty for imprisoning the old knight and in his heart, he didn’t truly believe that Sir Darius would have delivered their plans to the enemy. Despite the guilt, he did not regret his actions.

The allied forces began to cheer and shout as Arlan held up his spear and shouted at the barbarians the phrase he had been taught. Almost immediately, the barbarians began to return shouts of their own. Apparently insulted, they worked themselves up into a rage as they hurled back cruel and crude-sounding words in their own tongue. Arlan repeated the phrase again and this time, a lone figure burst out from within the ranks of the barbarians on horseback. A giant clad head to toe in thick armour and wielding a long spear. Kaewyn did not hear the man say anything as he charged directly at Arlan, who spurred his horse forward at his approaching opponent. That must be the prince. His armour is so exquisite. The man whom Kaewyn guessed what Prince Odabek let loose a shrilling shout as Arlan and he closed in on each other in the field between both masses of men. Both armies cried out in support of their representative and when the two warriors finally clashed, the cries gave way to a palpable silence.

The two warriors circled each other on horseback as they fought for control of the small space between them. When one thrusted their spear at the other, it was either dodged or parried away harmlessly. They traded blows briefly and then separated, looking for another opportunity to strike. Kaewyn held his breath in trepidation as he watched each exchange of thrusts and parries. A sudden flurry of blows caused the soldiers to gasp as Arlan’s spear was deflected by a desperate, last second parry by the prince, who then counter thrusted, almost striking Arlan in the chest. The two warriors separated and began to encircle one another again. In his estimation, it seemed as if the two men were evenly matched, but as the contest went on it became clear to all who had gotten the upper hand. The prince was on the offensive as Arlan struggled to parry the incoming blows. Kaewyn wasn’t certain whether he was genuinely in trouble or if he was simply going with the plan, but as the fight went on he became increasingly worried for his friend’s safety.

“Arlan’s in trouble Kaewyn.” Yohren said as he fumbled around with his bow. “What do we do?”

“…Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Yohren replied in shock. “But what if…”

“Arlan is one of the most skilled warriors I have ever met, Yohren. I believe in him, as should you.”

“You’re right. But I still worry.”

Kaewyn wished he felt half as confident as he had let on. Yohren’s words echoed exactly how he himself was feeling in that moment. By forcing Arlan to allow himself to be beaten, had he unwittingly placed his friend in a situation where he may be killed because he was trying to lose? He didn’t want to dwell on it any longer. The thought made him feel sick. He continued to watch as Arlan hung on against the prince’s assault, and felt a sudden shock to his system when he saw Arlan’s spear be flung from his grip and onto the ground. For a split second, Arlan was completely defenceless. The prince took advantage and thrust with his spear, but Arlan drew his sword just in time and swatted away the point of the spear just before it struck home. The Greystone warrior on the white steed then turned his horse and fled back toward his lines. The barbarian army let out a raucous cheer even as their prince raged and laughed at the same time like some sort of possessed maniac. His laughter then turned into some sort of disturbing chant that spread quickly to his soldiers who emulated their prince. Before long, the entire barbarian army was chanting and humming in unison.

A feeling of unease swept through the ranks as the barbarian’s chanted their odd tunes. It was silent among their own men as Arlan made it back. The defeated warrior stopped when he came up beside Kaewyn and Yohren.

“It is done.” He said, his head held low.

“I am in your debt Arlan.” Kaewyn said gratefully. “I know it was difficult for you to throw the fight.”

Arlan shook his head and. “I must say, my lord. I… truly do not know if I could have beaten him. The prince is truly skilled.”

“So, he did beat you?” Yohren said in disbelief.

“No,” Arlan replied quickly. “But the prince had the advantage the entire time. I do not think I would have defeated him if the fight had gone on much longer.”

“You may not have defeated him, but we will. Together.” Kaewyn said firmly.

Arlan nodded. “As planned, I will ride to Marcus and let him know you and the army will be arriving soon. Luck be with you all.”

“And you, Arlan. Go quickly.” He replied.

“Uhh Kaewyn… here they come!” Yohren said as he notched an arrow.

Kaewyn briefly watched Arlan ride away but quickly returned his attention to the barbarian army coming at them full speed across the fields. Most of them appeared to be on foot and armoured, with only some cavalry behind in support. Not the Ralerai, then? They screamed at the top of their lungs as they closed in, shouting in their foreign language and continuing their disturbing chanting.

“Archers, loose your arrows!”

The officers shouted commands for the men to hold fast as a volley of arrows was launched into the air. The arrows then began to descend into the ranks of the charging barbarian army, but the attack did not seem to slow them down even a little. The frenzied barbarians, buoyed by their prince’s victory, seemed unstoppable as they rushed in. Kaewyn gave the order for his archers to withdraw behind the infantry so that they could continue to loosen arrows whilst being relatively safe from harm. His infantry parted and allowed the archers’ passage and then quickly reformed just in time to brace for the incoming charge.

Just then, a horn blew from the right, long and continuous. It was a sign from Rhys that his flank had engaged the enemy. A second horn then blew, this time from the left. General Alaric’s flank was also engaged. Kaewyn ordered for his horn to blow as well, and right as it did, the barbarian horde crashed into the shield wall of men tasked with holding them back. Men heaved and shouted as they pushed, shoved, hacked and slashed at their counterparts who in return, savagely continued their assault. Outnumbered two to one, Kaewyn knew that if they remained in this position, defeat was an inevitability. Yohren loosed several arrows over the wall of their soldiers and into the barbarian’s ranks and then turned to ask him when they should give the order to withdraw. Kaewyn did not want to be premature, but the barbarian’s assault was so strong that he feared their line would break if forced to hold against such ferocity. Reluctantly, he gave the order to withdraw. A horn blew in continuous, rapid short bursts over and over, signalling to the entire army that they were to begin the withdrawal. The officers, who were aware of the plan and that retreat was no reason to panic, shouted their new orders and kept their men in line as the withdrawal began. The entire line withdrew as one unit while the archers continued to loosen arrows and then move to a better position to nock fresh arrows and repeat the process.

From atop his horse, Kaewyn had no trouble seeing over the infantry and down both flanks. The army was retreating successfully, albeit slowly. The barbarians kept on pushing them and showed little sign of abating in their attack. The Callidus and Edderfield banners were held high behind the line, and Kaewyn himself made an effort to shout and make his presence be felt by the soldiers bravely holding their ground. He knew it was imperative for them to know that their lord had not deserted them and fled the field. Lord Rhys and General Alaric would be doing the same for the right and left flanks respectively, helping to stabilise the army as it withdrew in an orderly fashion. He saw relieved faces whenever a soldier looked back and saw him there, just behind them and shouting encouragement. The plan was working. They just had to keep going until they made it to Marcus and his fortifications.

***

Camilla had never felt so conflicted in her life. She wandered the empty camp, accompanied by two guards. One, a quiet heavyset man who usually protected Rhys. The other was Edgren, who had fought for her in the contest against the Greystone champion. Together they walked the perimeter of the camp, stopping to check up on anyone they saw to see if they required any assistance or other form of aid. It was a surreal experience. Camilla had been granted official command of the entire camp and all those within it. On one hand, she was incredibly pleased to finally have a chance to make decisions and give orders. It was her greatest desire to be able play an active role in helping in such a way, but it had come at a cost. Kaewyn and her brother were only a short distance away fighting a pitched battle against an enemy with twice as many warriors. There was absolutely nothing she could do to help them now, so despite having command of the camp, she felt totally useless.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Something the matter, milady?” Edgren asked politely. She could tell by how he guarded his leg as he walked that he was still struggling with the injury he had sustained.

“I wish we could help somehow.” She replied, turning to face the direction of the battle and Varde Castle with a forlorn look.

“I don’t.” Edgren replied. “Anyone left in camp would just get in the way out there.”

“Still…” She said in frustration, placing her hands on her hips. “We could make a difference, could we not?”

“No, milady.” He replied with a chuckle. “Our small force of sick and wounded would only get in the way.”

“We have some able-bodied men still in camp.” She countered. “The guardsmen Rhys left behind.”

“All six of them?”

Camilla sighed. Edgren was right. Despite being given command of the camp and technically having soldiers sworn to obey her, there was little she could do to make any sort of impact in a battle involving thousands of soldiers. She was supposed to wait to see which side won, and if the worse should happen, pack up and flee to Greystone Province. I hate the idea of running away. I thought being in command meant that I’d get to do what I wanted, but I guess not.

Camilla and her guards continued to wander the camp, stopping whenever they saw someone needing some assistance. Mostly sick or wounded soldiers had been left behind, and she soon learned that they were all as stubborn as oxen. Many of them were clearly struggling with the camp deserted, as those who would take care of them had joined the battle. But when they saw her coming to offer them aid, most tried to wave her away, seemingly uncomfortable to be fussed over by a noblewoman of her rank. It annoyed her greatly, but she understood their desire to cope by themselves. Instead, she offered the assistance of Edgren and her other guard who helped the wounded and sick by moving them or bringing them food or water. Camilla knew that the more seriously hurt were in the medical tents and being looked after by Athaia and her growing army of assistants. With no other destination in mind, she began to wander in the direction of the medical tents to see if she and her guards could be of assistance.

When Camilla and her guards arrived, Athaia greeted them warmly and offered them refreshments. The Court Physician of Greystone was busy loading wagons full of supplies. Camilla, in between sips of her cup of wine, curiously asked why she was doing this. Athaia explained that either they won the battle, in which case there would be many wounded who would need to be tended to, or they would lose, in which case they needed to load up the wounded in camp and flee. Either way, the wagons needed to be ready to transport the wounded and supplies. Camilla agreed and offered the support of herself and her two guards, but Athaia waved her away, explaining that the small army of assistants she had been training would be more than enough help. With nothing left to do, Camilla bade Athaia farewell and headed back to Rhys’s, now her, command tent.

Before she made it back, she was approached by who she thought was one of the six able bodied guards left behind by her brother to protect the camp. He was exhausted and sweat beads dribbled down his forehead.

“Milady, I have been looking for you all over camp!” The guard said tiredly.

“What’s wrong?” Edgren asked. “Wait, who are you?”

“Oh, right. I serve Lord Edderfield milady.” The guard said as he leaned forward, hands on his knees. He sucked in air and continued to speak. “Sir Darius, the knight. Lord Edderfield had him locked up in his tent for the duration of the battle. I and two others have orders to keep him there until milord returns, but he has become agitated and wants to speak with you, milady.”

“With me?” Camilla said as she cocked her head in surprise. “What would a knight want with me?”

“Well, h-he didn’t request to speak with you specifically milady. Just that he wanted to speak with the camp commander is all.” The guard explained more coherently, having recovered his breath.

“Why did Kae—” She paused. “Why did Lord Edderfield have him locked up?”

The guard shrugged. “Didn’t ask milady. I just did what I was told.”

“Well, I suppose it cannot hurt to hear him out.” She said, gesturing with her hands. “Lead the way then.”

The guard bowed his head and then began to lead them through the deserted tents and wagons toward the Greystone section of the camp. Something bothered her though. She recalled that Sir Darius had spoken during the meeting and it seemed to her that the knight was in Kaewyn’s confidence. It didn’t seem right for him to be imprisoned so soon after that. Perhaps by meeting this knight she would have a chance to find out what had happened. With Edgren and her other guard in tow, she followed the Greystone guard and hoped the answers she sought would be forthcoming.

The Greystone section of the camp was even more deserted than the rest of the camp. Camilla guessed that there were only half as many tents erected here as opposed to the Vinum section and she also noticed that most of the Greystone army’s travelling supplies were still loaded onto wagons. They hadn’t been here for very long she thought, so she assumed that they hadn’t yet had the time to unload everything and set up their camp properly. The whole area was marked by tall wooden poles flying the Edderfield banner of white, grey and black. Despite having a valid reason to be here, she still felt as though she were somehow trespassing. The fact that no one was in sight only served to exacerbate her feeling. Still, she continued to follow the Greystone guard as he led them into his camp.

Their guide led them toward the only large cluster of tents. After making their way around several half-unloaded wagons, or loaded wagons depending upon one’s perspective, the guide told them that their destination was just around the corner. As she and her two guards continued to follow, a sudden gasp caught her attention and sent a shiver down her spine. The Greystone guard who stood just ahead had frozen in place with a wide-eyed expression firmly upon his face. Camilla cautiously walked closer to see what had stunned their guide only for two still bodies to come into view. Letting out a gasp of her own, her two guards spotted the bodies and immediately drew their swords and positioned themselves on either side of her, their eyes rapidly scanning their surroundings for any sign of a threat. Camilla was armed with a nobleman’s sword and found comfort in grasping the hilt. She had taken it the moment her brother Rhys had left camp with the army. She did not even know who it belonged to, she had found it within her brother’s belongings, but she was suddenly quite grateful to have it.

The Greystone guard made his way over to his comrades and knelt down beside them to check on them. He sighed with relief and told them that both of them were unconscious. He then stood and rushed into the tent that the men had been guarding and re-emerged a moment later, a worried look upon his brow.

“The knight is gone!” The Greystone guard said in a panic. “He must have attacked them while I was away.”

“Was he not bound by rope?” Edgren asked. “How did he escape so easily?”

The guard shook his head. “Lord Edderfield was quite clear. Sir Darius was to be treated with respect and not placed in the prison pens. But his hands were bound, I swear it! I don’t think any of us expected him to actually try and escape.”

Edgren sheathed his blade and helped the Greystone guard move his unconscious comrades so that their backs were up against the wheel of a nearby wagon. He too checked that the men were simply unconscious and seemed satisfied that the Greystone guard was correct.

“They’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He said as he placed a supportive hand on the Greystone guard’s shoulder. “I saw worse brawls in my time with the Company of the Silver Bow.”

Camilla fingered her chin as she pondered what all of this could possibly have meant. It didn’t make sense to her that Kaewyn would lock up this knight but then treat him so well as to place him in house arrest rather than have him placed in a prison pen. Something was off.

“Did Lord Edderfield say anything else about the knight and why you were to guard him?” She questioned.

“No, my lady.” The guardsmen replied. “But Master Yohren was the one who delivered him to us.”

“Yohren delivered him, you say?”

He nodded. “Master Yohren is Lord Edderfield’s retainer. He and the knight were talking when they arrived. I remember he said something about it being too risky to let him go free, whatever that means.”

“Risky. But what could be risky about letting him go…” She thought aloud, her mind racing to and fro to answer her own question. “He spoke at the meeting, which means that he knows all of our plans… and if he knows all of our plans, then the risk in letting him go can only mean…”

Oh no!

“Edgren, can you tell where he went?” She asked desperately.

“Uhh, it’s hard to say milady.” Edgren replied. “I can have a look around.”

“Over there.” The Greystone guard said as he pointed. “We had a spare horse tied up on that fence but it’s gone.”

“I thought all the horses were needed for the cavalry?” Edgren questioned.

“They were, but this one was nearly lame. Too risky to ride in battle.”

“But a tempting means of escape for a knight on the run.” She finished for him. “Edgren, I’m going after him.”

“What! What do you mean milady?” Edgren said. “We don’t even know where he went, and even if we did, he’s a knight and you’re a…”

“I’m quite aware of what I am Edgren, but that changes nothing.” She said with determination. “If what I suspect is true, then he must be stopped.”

“What’s so important about one old knight?”

“He knows the plan Edgren! He was there during the meeting. He could be heading to the barbarians to tell them everything! That must be why Kaewyn had him locked up in the first place.”

“Are you certain, milady? How do you know he’s going to tell the barbarians?” Edgren said. “Maybe he just saw the opportunity to escape and took it?”

“Edgren, this knight can speak the barbarian language. If he knows the plan and speaks their language, it cannot be simple coincidence that he chose now to escape. He HAS to be planning to tell them the whole thing. Which means it is up to us to stop him before it is too late!”

“Okay, maybe you do have a point.” Edgren admitted. “But how can we stop him? He’s on horseback and we have no horses. We’ll never catch up to him.”

“We do have horses! There were some back by the command tent if you recall.”

“Uhm, those were pack horses, milady. Beasts of burden.” Edgren explained. “They weren’t used by the army for the battle because they aren’t trained for war or speed. Though I suppose it is still faster than walking.”

“Exactly! And do not forget that the knight is riding a lame horse, so anything is better than that, right?”

“I suppose so...but still.”

“We still have to try!” She said enthusiastically. “Maybe his horse won’t take him far, or maybe we will get lucky and something else will slow him down.”

“Sounds like wishful thinking, but I’m with you milady,” Edgren said as he nodded his head. “I’ll do whatever you command.”

“Thank you Edgren. Listen, even even if we cannot catch up and stop him, we can at least warn Kaewyn and my brother of his escape.”

“Your brother made you the commander in his absence, milady.” Her other guard who had remained quiet up until this point said suddenly. “I don’t think he’ll be too pleased to see his sister on the battlefield…”

“I know. He will probably never trust me with any responsibility ever again, but what is the alternative?” She said. “If this knight really does plan to tell all to the barbarians, then he and Kaewyn must know about it. Otherwise, they could lose everything.”

“I agree with Lady Camilla.” Edgren said..

The heavy-set and usually quiet guard sighed and then nodded. He was out numbered and knew there was no use in further protest. “What’s our plan then?”

“Well, we make for the barbarian camp outside of Varde Castle. It’s the most straightforward route he is likely to take.”

“Just the three of us, milady?” Edgren asked.

“Mhmm.” She nodded. “Let’s get going!”

Edgren chuckled as he turned to face her other guard. “I thought my mercenary buddies were the crazy ones, but here we are following a noblewoman out into the open during a battle.”

“You’ll learn soon enough that nobles are the craziest of all.” The other guard replied. “If we don’t get killed by the knight, we may live long enough to be slaughtered by the barbarians. If we somehow survive through all of that, then we can look forward to our execution by Lord Rhys.”

“When you put it like that…”

“Stop wasting time!” She scolded. “We need to hurry if we are to have any chance of catching up.”

Camilla left the Greystone guard to attend to his unconscious comrades and along with her two somewhat hesitant guards, made her way back to the command tent. After she and the others had mounted up on the pack horses, she struck out of camp in the direction of her home, Varde Castle. She knew she was being reckless, stupid even, and that she was probably forfeiting any chance of being given any responsibility by Rhys in the future. Still, she knew that she couldn’t just sit idly by when there was a slim chance she could help. If it meant that she could prevent her brother and Kaewyn from losing the battle against the barbarians, she would gladly sacrifice her ambitions without a second thought.

***

Kaewyn shouted as loudly as he could. He called out desperately in an attempt to rally his men around him as he rode toward where the barbarians had broken through their line. Just as they began to stream through, he had arrived. With little thought to his personal safety, he placed himself directly in the path of the oncoming enemies and hacked and slashed with his blade. He was successful in repelling them, for a time, but he felt his horse lurch awkwardly beneath him and he was suddenly thrown from the saddle. He landed hard on his chest and felt the wind be knocked out of him. He lay stunned upon the earth, unable to move as the sounds of battle raged on all around him.

Slowly, he scrambled back to his feet, sucking in as much air as he could through the visor of his claustrophobic helmet. He looked up only to see several barbarian warriors clad in steel with curved blades coming at him, utter hatred and rage in their manic eyes. He brought his blade up in front of him just as Arlan had taught him and prepared himself. If he were to die here, then he promised his ancestors that his body would not be found with a sword in his back. He would die fighting.

Thum!

The closest barbarian went down as an arrow lodged itself between the plates of his armour, striking him in the neck.

Thum! Thum!

Two more arrows and two more downed barbarians.

Kaewyn turned his head to see Yohren already notching another arrow. His retainer drew the bowstring back and loosed it. Kaewyn felt the arrow whiz past his head and heard another scream of pain as the arrowhead found its mark. The other archers followed his lead and began to loose their arrows directly at the barbarians coming through the small breach in their line, rather than over the heads of their allies. The result was devastating. Many of the barbarian infantry carried small rounded shields which could be used to protect themselves from attacks, but their relatively small size meant their effectiveness was limited in stopping arrows from finding their mark.

Kaewyn cursed as more barbarians streamed in through the breach.

Thum! Thum! Thum!

And more succumbed to the hail of arrows. With the breach momentarily clear, Kaewyn shouted for the men to reform the line and seal the breach. With his horse downed, he threw himself into filling the gap alongside the wall of bodies. He knew how important it was to ensure the line held, for if the enemy managed to break through, the Greystone and Vinum forces would find their army split into two halves. Their only chance was to keep their formation strong and continue to withdraw, hoping that Marcus and his fortifications would prove decisive.

Side by side with the soldiers in the heat of battle, he thrust his blade at the barbarians as they tried to break through yet again. He shouted for his soldiers and the line to continue to withdraw at a steady pace. Every second or two, every man holding the line would take a step back, taking care to keep the formation tight and whole. It was no simple task to do in the midst of the chaos of battle, but if the entire army had turned and ran for safety, their orderly retreat would turn into a chaotic mess. He hoped that the other flanks led by Rhys and Alaric were faring better. Without his horse elevating him above the infantry, he could no longer see down the line of allied soldiers on either flank. He had no idea how well, or badly, things were going. He could only pray to Ohnix that everything was going according to their plan.

After another half hour of holding and withdrawing against constant pressure from their enemy, Kaewyn was grateful to see the barbarians hold off their otherwise relentless assault for the time being. They did not go far, but instead opted to follow them menacingly just within shouting range. They began hurling projectiles, mostly javelins or large stones to harass them, but their shields served well enough in keeping the majority of the enemy’s weapons from doing much harm. There were of course, the unlucky ones who didn’t raise their shield in time or were caught out in some other way. Some of these unlucky few were fortunate enough to be rescued and pulled along by their comrades while others were left behind as the line continued to withdraw hastily. Kaewyn felt sick to his core whenever he saw one of their injured men that had been left behind scream out for help that was impossible to give. As he watched and heard those soldiers be slaughtered, he felt both anger and an immense sense of uselessness, but above all it gave him motivation to stay alert and keep his shield ready to intercept any projectiles coming his way.

The open fields soon gave way to a lightly wooded area which Kaewyn hoped meant that they were getting close to their destination. The woods provided cover from the occasional flung projectile that came their way, but the trees and difficult terrain made it difficult for the allied soldiers to keep their formation compact and tight. Boots slipped and men had to force themselves through bushes and other obstacles. Whenever the line encountered a stump or large tree, the entire line had to break up and reform again. Thankfully, the barbarian forces did not attack or take advantage. They continued to follow them closely, but their attacks had become less frequent and they seemed to prefer harassment to outright battle for the moment. Fatigue had taken its toll on both sides. He suspected the attacks would renew once their enemy had a chance to rest and recover. All the more reason he hoped that they would arrive at Marcus’s fortifications sooner rather than later.