The clash between the skirmishers had started, as the unarmoured men darted forward, to fling javelins and darts upon the masses of men waiting in the main lines, sending them arcing through the air to fall upon them. Rarely did the quick moving men attack each other, for they seldom stayed in place log enough to target, but focused on trying to disrupt the main lines.

From time to time Aisan Avar sent forward light cavalry to try and clear away Langan’s harassing skirmishers; they simply fell back behind the spearmen each time and hurled javelins towards the horsemen. Men and horses went down, transfixed by the thrown weapons, only for the rest to fall back from the wall of waiting spears and the skirmishers to press forward again.

The rain of darts and javelins continued for a time, slowly dwindling as the thrown weapons began to get depleted. Men in the lines sheltered down behind their shields, weathering the storm as best they could as the shafts came crashing down around them, sticking into dirt or shields or exposed flesh. Men fell, transfixed, or wheeled away from the lines, seeking out aid. There were not many for the amount of weapons thrown, but they had done their job, to disrupt and to weary as much as kill.

The skirmishers fell back as each used up their weapons, fewer remaining behind with each passing minute until at last they were done and the battlefield fell silent again but for the cries of the wounded.

A horn blasted from among the ranks of Aisan Avar’s army and the drums beat in response. Spears pounded against shields and the mass of infantry began its slow march forward, the ground shuddering and thick clouds of dust kicked up. A roar went up from Langan’s men and they braced their spears, reading for the moment of impact.

“Slingers!” Ivkarha roared. Atop the lone hill, the slingers reached into the piles of stones they had mounded before them, for the hill top was covered with small stones and pebbles, and they had scoured the place to build up a stock for the coming battle. They slipped the stones into the slings and began to whirl them about, building up momentum.

“Release!”

The slings sung and the stones whistled through the air, a rain of them falling from the heights of the hills upon the advancing enemy. The stones moaned as they tore through the air, crashing into the enemy soldiers, ringing upon shields and helms and armour, slamming into exposed flesh and men began to fall, from broken heads and bones. Again and again the slingers unleashed their volleys upon the foe, deadly accurate from long years of training with the weapons.

The left flank of the advancing army began to wilt beneath the withering storm of stones that crashed upon them, contracting up into a tightening mob and shrinking away, the lines pushing further to their right to try and escape the fusillade hitting them in their flanks. It disrupted the advance so that the right flank, unhindered by the slingers, pushed ahead and were the first to reach Langan’s waiting army. With a roar and a rush, they flung themselves forward, slamming into the waiting spearmen and the battle began in earnest, of jabbing spars meeting waiting shields, of an effort to push through with weight of numbers and momentum.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

The men of Langan’s army wavered under the impact, shifting backwards, almost breaking, but then the lines stabilised and held, the dreaded break failing to occur. The most dangerous part had passed and the men fought, refusing to yield. First the right flank of Aisan Avar’s army joined the fray, then the centre and finally the left flank, the one weakened by the slingers, and reluctant it was that they collided, lacking the strength or determination to truly crash into the waiting spears. Lanagan’s soldiers barely budged at the contact, and spears soon flashed through the dust, to drive them back, sending the attackers reeling, blood and bodies strewn between the opposing lines.

“Keep at them!” Ivkarha shouted out, and the slingers did just so, for the rain of their stones continued unabated, further weakening and demoralising the foe.

“Ware ahead!” Aedmorn called out, for from the reserved of the enemy movement could be made through the clouds of dust. A large body of spearmen with broad shields marched forward tot eh beat of a drum, headed not for the main clash but the lone hill; the enemy commanders had decided that the slingers had to be dealt with, to be driven from the hill so that they no longer could inflict devastating strikes on their troops.

The attention of the slingers was shifted, from the enemy they were raking with stones to the oncoming threat. The marching soldiers reached the base of the hill and began to advance up it, a solid wall of shields before them. Stones were soon crashing into them and the ring of stone on metal echoed loud about. Most of the stones were deflected by the shields; most but not all. Limbs were shattered and skulls broken by those that slipped through and gaps opened up in the shield wall as men fell out of formation and the rest struggled to close them up, to push on into the withering rain of stones.

“Spears!” Ivkarha yelled, holding her sword aloft. The slingers were falling back as the enemy came on, growing nearer, unleashing the last of their shots before darting up and through the waiting lines of spears.

Then Ivkarha’s sword slashed down and Gesir and his men roared as they charged, a forest of spears rushing down the slopes at the advancing foe. They slammed into the wearied and battered enemy. For just a moment the enemy resisted but then split and shattered under the ferocious impact of the charge, bodies falling as they were stabbed and ran through with spears. The spearmen halted their charge as the enemy fled, brought up short by barked commands from Gesir.

The slingers darted forward once more and unleashed yet more flung stones upon the backs of the fleeing enemy, stones that shattered bones and sent yet more tumbling down the slopes, bodies broken and battered.

A cheer went up as the enemy fled, spearmen resuming their positions and slingers turning their attention back to supporting Langan’s beleaguered force.

“It is a start,” Aedmorn said, “A good start, but the battle is not yet ended.”

“Aye, and it won’t be for some time yet.”

Another horn sounded from the enemy, and more movement came from behind the ranks of the clashing battles.

The cavalry and chariots were on the move.