>
> AUU!
>
> Roran narrowed his eyes, the vertical slits restricting part of his peripheral vision and the helm itself muffling the sounds of the war cries exploding from every File about him. The first line of the Main File familiar. Vaelin, Flinar, Ascal, Myrin and Larongar standing next to his right shoulder, Orym’s First File on his left not two meters away. He couldn’t see their faces but after so long Roran recognized each Hoplite by the different dents on their armour and large Aspises.
>
> AUU!
>
> AUU!
>
> The Cofols were raising quite the dust clouds to their left or north flank where the bulk of the Rangers were riding in various formations. At their center Roran could count three distinct groups. Starting North to south they were a halberd armed Jang-Lu heavy infantry unit (wearing leather and plate pieces of armour) of about two hundred soldiers, around seven hundred sword and shield medium infantry (wearing pale-yellow leather armour and mail) in the middle and the harpoon-equipped (wearing hardened leather armour) marines securing the north flank up to the Palms sprouting near the coast and the scrubland afore the plains of Stalion’s Rest. They numbered around five hundred and were almost an exact copy of Flardryn’s Imperial Marines Roran had guarding the opposite flank behind the Othrim.
>
> “That’s double what the kid said!” Orym yelled, face hidden under the hoplite helm.
>
> Roran glanced at the edge of the loose formation of Palms and Eucalyptus trees near their south flank and the coast.
>
> “Tell Unor to send Drannor to sweep the trees! None shall pass through!” Roran barked and watched Ayas’ Third File anchoring the corner of their formation ducking behind their shields as the first volley of steel-tipped arrows landed on them. The rattling of metal striking metal covering all other sounds.
>
> “Cataphracts?” Vaelin asked him and Roran shook his head negatively.
>
> Not as easy to hide Rokae as it is infantry.
>
> “Horselords,” he rustled. “They’ll move when their rangers attack Ayas or Flardryn to our rear.”
>
> Probably had their horseshoes wrapped in cloth already and were sneaking up closer under the cover of the tree line. They’ll go for our supply train. “Aelinole will flush them out,” he added.
>
> “Wait for them to show their hand Roran?” Flinar yelled to be heard over the ruckus the mounted Cofol Rangers were raising. Probably archers given armour, a spear and a shield to serve multiple roles, Roran thought. That extra weight is bound to slow their smaller horses down.
>
> “The Phalanx does not stand idle!” Roran boomed with a great voice in Imperial. “It moves towards the enemy. BRUSH THEM ASIDE! NO QUARTERS!”
>
> AUU!
>
> “ALL FILES! ON SPEAR’S THROW!” Orym barked hoarsely. “MARCH ONWARDS!”
>
> Roran eyed the Cofols frontline standing roughly two hundred meters away and stabbed the sharp steel butt of his spear on the brittle soil. He accepted the heavy –over two meters long- diamond-shaped head javelin from Vaelin, took a small step forward and out of their own front line, then hurled it with a snap of his arm across the field.
>
> The idea was to land it as near the enemy as possible to rattle them, but Roran knowing he was being watched by a lot of new people, the mother of his child amongst them, gave it a little bit more oomph.
>
> The javelin crossed the distance in a very brief second maintaining its trajectory and then plunged sharply to skewer one of Khan’s unperturbed soldiers through shield and torso killing him. A collective gasp of shock came out of the Khan’s men, followed by a numb silence from their lines.
>
> “MARCH!” Orym boomed snapping everyone back to the present.
>
> Roran retrieved his spear, fixed the grip on his aspis (the small bronze laced double-crescent openings another mark of his rank) with the help of his left shoulder and then started marching with measured strides alongside the rest of the First Othrim towards the packed lines of the Khan’s army. The ground shook under their hobnailed sandals, their formation never wavering but moving as one solid block of gleaming black steel plate eating up the meters separating them from their opponents.
>
> Here we go again, Roran thought dispassionately as the Battle of the Que Ki-La Road started.
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Roran of Saeveril
Second of the Phalanx
A thousand spears
Part II
-Many a pleasant things…-
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Wylinor paused over the half-eaten corpse and then turned around walking towards their patrol. Roran and Aquilan stared at Aimon the medic.
“What do you think?” Roran asked, the stench of decay mixing with that of the burned ruins.
“The city needs to be cleaned up,” Aimon replied wiping his hands with a tan-colored cotton cloth and stood up from the corpses he was examining. “The bodies burned or buried. Everyone should clean up thoroughly also and avoid drinking water from the cisterns.”
“The camp?” The Othrim had taken over the camp beyond the Great Market.
“The disease is contained within the city, but it will spread if people return,” Aimon said and stared at the body Wylinor had found. “These are civilians recently killed.”
“Half the city is abandoned up to the port,” Roran elucidated what they had found out. “Brigands have looted whatever is left standing.”
“They don’t look like brigands Roran.”
“Escaped slaves?”
“Probably, I don’t know,” Aimon admitted with a grimace. “What do the locals of the North Districts say?”
“Avoid the port. Walk with an armed escort,” Roran repeated what the Sopat guards had told them. “Any sign of Lord Letakin? You’ve been to the palace,” he probed Aquilan.
“Just more dead bodies and a lot of wild animals roaming the ruins.”
“Seems like two out of three places we visit lately is like this these days. End the search. Let the slow-marching Cofols deal with fixing this mess, we have an army coming our way,” Roran decided. “That means Darunia must return to the camp Aimon.”
“We could help here Roran,” the old medic argued.
“Onas’ order was to secure the ports stay open for us Aimon. The Fleet is about to moor here with supplies. They’ll assist if they can but it is not a priority.”
“I read the order. It said help the locals.”
Roran glared at him. “It said ‘provide assistance’ Aimon. You’re long enough in the army to know Onas didn’t sent us here on a benevolent mission.”
Aimon pursed his mouth and then grunted in frustration. “Who’s keeping the records?”
“Flardryn,” Aquilan told him. “Word is he has turned his carriage into a cabin, might have installed a sail by now. Has a writing desk inside and everything.”
“I’m making a note of this,” Aimon warned Roran. “We should be gathering medicine to help them. It is Lady Darunia’s wish also.”
“Let us secure the port first Aimon,” Roran said with a sigh. “I’ll see to alleviate Lady Darunia’s concerns.”
Aelinole had Gorwin following her around.
“Elwuin is still missing,” Aquilan informed him.
Roran stared at the gutted buildings of Ani Ta-Ne’s center. The city had grown spectacularly since he’d last visited it. While Fu De-Gar had some of its landmarks still standing, Ani Ta-Ne seemed completely alien to him. The streets too narrow, the buildings small and brittle.
That was way too enticing a subject for Elwuin not to explore.
“Akkar?” That was one of Elwuin’s old pupils, a long-time engineer of the Phalanx.
“In the camp. Looking at the warehouses for supplies.”
“He’ll have to do. We’re moving out,” Roran decided with a last look at the ruined city.
> According to sources that have talked with survivors of the battle, mainly caravan merchants, adventurers or traders friendly with the Forya-Rochir that brave the dangerous trip across the Northern Steppe in search for the fabled Water Stones and the frozen city-port of Neil-Dan, Sept Khemet had no idea what he was facing.
>
> Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!
>
> The rangers reported a force of hoplite-armour dressed troops marching up the road cutting through Stallion’s Rest plains peninsula. Deciding these were gladiators coming from Fu De-Gar Khemet prepared to give battle. He bequeathed the open plains on his north flank to his mounted rangers and placed his best infantry troops (Jang-Lu, infantry and Marines) in the center and south flank under Nancin, Ravan and Kindar. The number given ranging from eight hundred to over one thousand three hundred. He also ordered the Forya-Rochir to move even more south near the coast, penetrate the wilderness bordering the plains and turn the flank of their opponents or strike at their camp that was following.
>
> The rangers (around nine hundred) began assaulting the north flank of the hoplites, who had marines units securing their rear, while there were many humans with the supply train. Lorians and Cofols, mainly pirates but a good number of citizens that followed after the Phalanx. These were Wetull sympathizers, painted erroneously as Old-Gods believers. The main three of the now resurgent looser old religion are of course Eodrass, Nesande and Abrakas along all smaller ones including the Five that were non-existent or invisible back then.
>
> While people today adhere either to a romanticized or negative picture of the land beyond the Pale Mountains and the Zilan, there are over twenty thousand humans of all races living in the port of Sinya Goras, ten thousand in Rain-Minas, another thirty thousand in the city of Taras, two-thirds of them Cofols of the Peninsula that call themselves Imperial Citizens. Taras, the city now sprawling beyond its Lake and under the shadow of the massive Tenebrous Castle, has dwarves and Gish living in the Folk District, with more Gish reportedly living near the mermaid/siren infested distant port of Mussel in Oyster Archipelago under the Talons.
>
> So the appeal goes beyond religious matters or simple propaganda. Beyond untold riches and exotic creatures or beasts. What we knew from old books and fancy tales in our youth back then was a reality we have to live with now. Wetull was alive and the dead empire had returned. It was a simple matter of time before it started meddling with the human kingdoms again. One could fight against the deleterious effect of the fully corrupted Cofol culture that had tainted the simple-minded Horselords nature, but the allure of the blue-haired Zilan of Wetull, their magic and their wyverns, is beyond comprehension and in our troubled times the biggest danger to a divided humanity.
>
> For humans they are not and on their throne sits a family of insane bloodthirsty monsters.
>
> Sid Halla-Tar a famed Forya-Rochir warrior followed by Babu-Anua entered the porous woods south of the battlefield but were discovered just as they were emerging near the Phalanx’s small camp. Hunted by Zilan rangers they attacked a force of Hoplites blocking their path. It was an unbelievably brutal engagement with humans and Zilan fighting on horseback, on foot, with arrows, spears and scimitars, amidst the Eucalyptus trees and on open ground.
>
> While the Forya-Rochir fought with courage the Hoplites pushed them back. They attempted to disengage but they got bogged down in the woods and hunted by tireless opponents. The Forya-Rochir tell stories of Zilan rangers firing five arrows for every two the Horselords sent back and sometimes double that amount. With their numbers dwindling Babu-Anua, who had been in enough scraps with the Three Sisters warriors in his lifetime to know the difference, realized they weren’t fighting humans. He ordered the Rohir to retreat using their horses and managed to save some of the Forya-Rochir that followed after him after Sid Halla-Tar went down fighting a Hoplite. The injured Horselord was carried on a horse out of the woods and into the plains.
>
> In the main battle, the Phalanx advanced on the Khan’s army center. They were attacked repeatedly from Khemet’s rangers that were dancing on their flanks, pursued in turn from marines. Nancin ordered his flanks (covered by their marines and the Jang-Lu) to advance on the Phalanx’s left and right while his shield infantry held the center. Twenty minutes into the engagement Khemet who was watching from horseback realized the flanks weren’t advancing at all. Kindar had been killed by now as the Jang-Lu folded backwards and Nancin probably informed him they were fighting devils and not the Garites of Fu De-Gar.
>
> Sept Khemet witnessing the Khan’s army center caving in as well with only the marines of Ravan barely holding on against the Phalanx’s south flank, ordered his strong cavalry force to switch to spears and charge at the hoplites north flank. The rangers did, their first attempt stopping one of the Phalanx’s Files killing many. They rode away to try again under a hail of javelins and harpoons from the approaching sneakily fast Imperial Marines while the Phalanx rotated another File and took the rangers next charge on the march. Any other unit would have shattered or just not react in time.
>
> But they did.
The terrible sound of a great avalanche descended upon their lines. It was so loud, the smell of blood and sweat so strong, both from soldiers and animals, Roran felt overwhelmed for a brief moment. The next he pointed his spear on the charging horse’s head, every hoplite on either side of him doing the same on a different rider on instinct. Horses neighed in panic seeing the impregnable wall of steel and tried to escape impalement jerking violently left or right.
Some managed it dropping their riders on the hoplite spears and shields, others got tangled up with other horses with few crashing on the shieldwall that had snapped into place abruptly. Men and animals cried out in pain, hoplites getting hurled back where the horses had failed to stop in time and on their comrades.
Roran’s spear bayonetted the animal’s beads-covered head, broke out its skull and stabbed its rider under the solar plexus. He had been pushed back violently, boots digging in the ground afore stopping on a large aspis that shoved him forward again. Roran left his spear into the horse and its rider and stepped out of the line, front-curved Kopis now in hand. Those of the File that could move, did the same penetrating into the immobilized mounted rangers ranks.
Behind their backs Unor had rotated his Young Othrim to the center of the line to plug the gap and was even pushing forward but Roran kept his mind on the fight at hand trusting everyone else to do their duty.
He deflected blows with his shield, slashed and hacked with his blade. Moving with the flow of battle. Roran jerked away from a spear, chopped the shaft in two and then plunged his blade in a body. The thud rattling his shoulder when the sword broke through flesh and bones. Torrents of blood gushed out of horrid wounds, arms and legs were severed. Red gore splashed on the ground, sandals dipping in bloody sludge, stepping on broken weapons, butchered animals and pieces of flesh or skin still dressed in cloth.
He growled, the smell of blood intoxicating, gnarly mouth baring its teeth and gore painting his helm and cuirass. A blade clanged on his shield and he turned, the double-crescent shield rotating just enough to allow him to stab his sword through the opening. The sharp blade found a forehead, the skull cracking and then splitting open when Roan punched the Kopis fully through.
Roran sidestepped, Flinar’s spear spitting the soldier that tried to rush him right at the neck. A yank and the spear came out, the head detaching taking pieces of torn skin with it and a bright red mist spattered their panoply. Roran kicked the collapsing headless body and sent it crashing on an onrushing horse’s legs. The scared animal jumped to avoid stepping on it, but failed and broke its right front leg above the joint when it sunk into the dead soldier’s chest cavity. Its rider jumped from the saddle, white leather armour under pieces of engraved plate gleaming in the sun and landed on a cracked shield losing his footing.
He cursed and twisted about, Roran advancing on him in the mayhem. The officer slashed at the oncoming hoplite, but Roan angled his shield to deflect it and hacked at the jumping away man. He missed, the officer cursed and a steel spear went in and out of his ribcage wielded by Vaelin. The Khan’s officer groaned, a hand on his bleeding wound painted red and stared at the hoplites surrounding him in horrified disbelief.
“You betrayed your oath,” Roran barked hoarsely in the Common Human Tongue. “Your life is forfeited!”
“What…?” The officer gasped ogling those slanted-eyes in bewilderment.
Then Vaelin’s spear returned brutally, leaf-shaped blade going through the man’s right temple, wrapping the helm, pulverizing the officer’s brains and splintering his skull, afore exploding out the left side with a garish discharge of gore.
“You wanted the kill Roran?” Vaelin asked unsure, face hidden under the scarred black hoplite helm.
“Spread out,” Roran spat not bothering to answer after he wiped some of the gluey material from his neck. “Slay Radpur’s minions.”
> Nancin seeing that Khemet’s charge had failed to break the Phalanx, decided to disengage but at around the same time Ravan was killed as well (Sept Khemet had fallen earlier amidst his riders) and Nancin’s plan was ruined. Ravan’s marines holding the south flank were attacked by returning from the woods hoplites and just disintegrated in their attempt to pivot towards the new threat.
>
> Shocking as it may sound, in less than an hour Khemet’s experienced landing force alongside Nancin’s veterans ceased to exist. The general committed suicide according to witnesses when he realized all was lost probably because there were rumors of cannibalism performed in the field on still breathing soldiers and didn’t want to be eaten alive. Whether the latter was true or not with so many Zilan present and after such a brutally bloody engagement old legends came back to life.
>
> Khemet’s defeat wasn’t immediately learned by Prince Nout who was fighting an equally hard battle hundreds of kilometers away and it is unclear if he learned about it at all. Babu-Auna’s Rohir Horselords and a few Forya-Rochir escaped towards the plains. They would spent the winter there and then cross on rafts the Khanate Gulf abandoning their lands to the advancing from Fu De-Gar Karit-Ki Tsuparin’s vengeful army. Babu-Auna will bring Sid Halla-Tar back to the northern steppe and the seriously injured Sid would make sure his riders would always ‘have a place around their fire’. Their friendship lasting until the old Rohir was killed fighting alongside him nine years later stopping famed Kalac ‘the Feared’ campaign of terror in the Battle of Luzet-Eriel Lagoon, which in turn solidified the Cofol’s Steppe borders until our days.
>
> According to oral sources and bard tales the whole Phalanx didn’t fight in the battle of Que Ki-La Road (a turning point in the campaign) or was anywhere near the Peninsula at the time. It would be impossible anyways as the Phalanx was present elsewhere thousands of kilometers away. Only a detachment of hoplites was present numbering a thousand spears.
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Roran found his spear hours later. The buzz of the battle had subsided but the cries of the seriously wounded men and animals could be heard breaking the strange stillness that had fallen upon the bloody grounds.
He spent some time near Ayas’ File who had suffered the worst, losing its Tetrarch and sixty valuable hoplites. Unor had lost Drannor and many of his recruits as well in the battle for the woods. They had all helped pick the weapons of the fallen warriors and their broken bodies. Roran helped wash each warrior carefully and redressed them as best they could. They carried their fallen inside the woods and buried each in turn clad in their full panoply under healthy trees. They didn’t hasten or slacked in their task but paid apt respect to their comrades in arms. The Phalanx resides in each Hoplite and each Hoplite carries a part of the Phalanx with him.
Aimon and Darunia were busy in the meantime tending to the wounded, many Cofols receiving treatment as well under the watchful hoplite guards’ eyes.
The rest of the dead, well over two thousand, were piled in three large funeral pyres and burned with wood and dry branches gathered from the woods. It wouldn’t burn properly and the corpses would be finished off by scavengers but that was the extent of Roran’s mercy for them. They didn’t bother gathering the Khan’s army weapons as they were of lesser quality but for a couple of officers scimitars. Two of them made out of Imperial Steel. Roran brought one of them to a busy Darunia and the healer frowned seeing it.
“I’m not a butcher silly. I work with a small blade,” she told him and glanced apologetically at the injured Myrin. The Hoplite had a deep cut from a sword that had scrapped the bone at his knee, afore it was stopped by the steel grieves.
The Hoplite clenched his jaw and Darunia pressed at the wound to get all the foul blood out.
“It’s for the boy,” Roran murmured watching her tending to the cut carefully.
“How do you know?” Darunia asked without looking at him. “Hoplites can’t see the future.”
“This hoplite has,” Roran grunted and Myrin blinked not wanting to listen to their private bander but unable to move his leg. Darunia got a long stitching needle out of her bag.
“Stay still,” she warned the grimacing Myrin. “I’ve run out of healing potions so you’ll get to enjoy my embroidery. What do you say?”
“Gratitude Lady Darunia,” Myrin droned and she smiled sweetly.
“What does future hold for us Roran?” Darunia asked faking indifference. It was scary how quickly one learns to read someone he thought he knew, only to discover how much more depth was under the comely interior.
Roran remembered wearing the silver-engraved helm marking a rank he hadn’t earned and crooked a mire-covered square jaw in discomfort.
“Many a pleasant things,” the Second of the Imperial Phalanx had replied gravely, weary eyes on the ravaged battlefield and the massive funeral pyres burning bright, thick black columns of smoke rising to the clear sky. The breeze blowing at the black and red banners cleansing death’s foulness out of the air. “Amidst some bad,” Roran added and heard the proud trumpet of a Wyvern’s distant shriek well afore its shadow flew past them.
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