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Sword on the Wind - 5

A great cloud of dust had been kicked up by the thundering hooves and wheels as the chariots and cavalry charged forward. They made not for the main line of battle, but instead were planning to sweep around behind Langan’s forces now that they were pinned in place by the enemy foot soldiers, to hit them from behind and shattered them in one glorious charge. They swung around to east, around the lone hill, seeking to keep their distance from it for fear of the lethal stones that were being flung down from its heights.

Out they rode, across the arid plains, churning up the arid soil into great clouds of dust, before turning and starting back in again, well to the south, trying to come behind the lone hill.

They could not come unseen, not in the open terrain they were in, nor with those upon the hills able to look down, to spot their movement. Langan’s heavy cavalry waited patiently, behind the hill. A horn blasted and they started forward, at a walk, pennons on their spears fluttering and snapping in the air. As the enemy grew closer, they picked up their speed, into a canter, building up momentum.

“Mount up,” Ivkarha said to the gathered Shanani. The desert warriors took to their horses once more, and with Ivkarha leading the way, began to ride down the rear slopes, towards her the two cavalry forces were closing in on each other.

A horn sounded from Langan’s cavalry and they broke into a thunderous gallop, spears dipping, hooves pounding, shouts splitting the sky. On they came, a wall of steel and blood, sweeping across the plains as an inexorable tide.

The collision between the two forces was deafening, of spears shattering and cries and shouts, of men transfixed, thrown from their saddles, of screaming horses and the crash of hooves. For a time all was confusion, as men and horses milled about, lost in a cloud of dust, all vision of the battle shrouded; then emerging from it all came Langan’s cavalry, having punched though the lines of the enemy. They wheeled about and made ready to charge in once more, men with broken spears casting them aside to draw sword and maces and axes.

Ivkahra’s band came rushing in and arrows began to cut through the air, moaning as they went, to drive into the disorganised mass that was Aisan Avar’s cavalry, bringing down yet more riders, leaving chariots empty and horses running with no one atop them.

Another horn blast and Langan’s cavalry surged forth once more, roaring as they did. They smashed into the enemy, sending them reeling under the impact, assailed from another side, spears smashing men from their saddles, hooves riding down the dismount, cutting them to ribbons. The force shattered, broke and fled, scattering in all directions, seeking to escape pursuit. More fell as they rode, brought down as the Shanani harassed them, galloping after to send arrows flickering through the air to bring them down.

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The plains were left littered with the fallen, the dead and dying both, men and horses, before the rest managed to escape, to return to their own lines. As the heavy cavalry regrouped again, Ivkarha led her band of desert riders back up the slopes of the lone hill, to re-join the battle there.

A fey laugh came from her as she reached Aedmorm who stood watching all unfold. “We bloodied their nose,” she told him. “They shall not try that again.”

“They may not need to,” Aedmorn noted ominously.

Ivkarha looked once more upon the battle unfolding below; Langan’s men had fought heroically to hold their ground but the numbers pushing against them were weakening them. The centre of the line was being forced back, weakening as it became stretched out, nearing the point of breaking as the once tight packed lines began to separate. Langan had sent in the reserves to try and stem the tide, to bolster the line, and for a time it had yet ever forward had the foe pushed. The flanks still held, and on the right had even pushed back the foe a way but it would be for little if the centre collapsed, allowing the enemy to rush through, to give the remaining chariots and horse another means to get in behind and roll up the lines.

Already she could see Langan’s cavalry being called back towards the centre, to help stabilise it as best they could. At one point a few of the enemy, a score or so had managed to make a gap and push through, threatening the whole line. Hooves surged and the cavalry came crashing in, riding them down into bloody ruin, allowing the struggling, beleaguered foot soldiers a chance to force the gap closed once more, through bloody deeds and sacrifice, and force of will.

“All hangs on the edge,” intoned Aedmorn, “Ready to tip and fall. There can be no help beyond that which we make ourselves.”

“Then we shall make it,” vowed Ivkarha, “Or we shall go down to be gathered up by Az-Ashar.”

Aedmorn hefted the axe he carried and nodded. “Let us do so.”

“Gesir, we make to march!” Ivkarha called out. “If we stay here, the field is lost and so are we. Form up the men.”

As Gesir gathered up the men, forming the spearmen into a column, with the slingers ranging ahead, Ivkarha and Aedmorn joined with the Shanani horsemen. “We shall ride ahead,” Ivkarha told them, to keep any enemy from our friends. We ride!”

The desert riders started down the slopes of the hill, heading out into the plains before them, while behind came marching down the footmen, singing a song of defiance. Ahead ran the slingers, pelting their stone pellets into the flanks of the enemy soldiers engaged in the fight, while every onwards trotted the spearmen. As they closed in, they spread out into a line, lowering their spears. At first the enemy noticed nothing, so occupied where they in the struggle before them, but then a few started to turn, pointing at the oncoming rush of spears.

Enemy cavalry dashed forward, trying to intercept them, to drive them off, to be met by the slashing attacks of the desert riders. Arrows sung through the air as the Shanani came in close, shot and wheeled away again.

Then just as the Luadha crashed into the flanks of the enemy army, the centre of the line broke once more, torn apart by the mass pushing against them.

And all appeared lost.