Shufi pulled on the reins as he drew close to Thayn and relayed to him, “I counted a formation of around eighty mercenary legionnaires. And they have around twenty archers with them marching this way.”
“How do you know they are mercenaries?” Gereld asked.
“The mismatch of colours, the fact their gear, while similar, is not uniform. No official Imperial Legion would tolerate any amount of deviation from uniformity.”
“Are we sure that they are hostile?”
“The leader asked me if I’d seen any Haldermen on the road. I took that to mean that it’s probably not good for us,” Shufi answered with a shrug.
“How far ahead?” asked Thayn.
“About two miles. I’ll head around the opposite side, see if I can’t give their screeners a misdirect” With that, Shufi winked as he wheeled his horse and rode off over the road and through the open field.
Thayn looked around for a moment. “Right. Everybody off the road! We’ll ride for a mile in the trees, then dismount and try to flank them!”
The party wheeled their mounts left, heading into the forest, far enough to obscure them, but close enough to monitor the road. They moved at a trot for about 15 minutes before Thayn held his hand up. They dismounted, and huscarls drew lots to see which five would take the horses and defend them. Gereld moved the rear of the formation. He planned to stay at the edge of the tree line, ready to move forward to treat any casualties. Venna walked to the five with the horses, telling them to secure Vannur to a tree and watch him.
Venna approached Erik. “I want you to stay with the horses.”
“Like hell I am.” He was indignant. “I’m older than Orn. Just because he can ‘schiew!’ and ‘schwoosh!’ doesn’t mean he gets to stay with you and I don’t. No! It’s not fair!”
Venna was about to bite back at him, but Thayn stepped in. “Lady Venna, I will watch him. He can stay behind me.”
“With all due respect, Your Grace, this is not your concern. This is between my son and I.” Thayn threw his hands up in surrender, moving back to organise his men into two ranks. Ansar moved to the left flank. Venna looked at her oldest son for a moment and then relented. “Fine, fine. But you stay behind me at all times! You do what I say when I say it and don’t you dare question it! Got it?”
“Yes, Mother.” Erik tried to look meek as he replied, but he couldn’t hide the stupid grin, which just made Venna roll her eyes at him as she walked off in resignation.
Orn moved toward the right flank with Erik and their mother. Once they had formed up in two lines, Thayn raised his sword, and all the chatter amongst them ceased. Some huscarls bounced from one foot to the other, getting ready for the melee to come.
And then, Thayn’s arm slowly lowered, sword pointed toward the road, and as one they moved forward slowly into the long grass in silence. Spears at the ready, axes in their belts.
ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ
Ansar Fennar, the Arctic Wolf, silently moved off to the left of their small force. After jogging for a couple of minutes, the giant Bruderman berserker spotted an enemy scout. He launched his spear at the first rider he saw. The throw was such that it went through the horse’s throat and straight into the rider’s stomach.
The horse made a strained, deep groaning sound. The rider didn’t make a sound at all. He just stared at the shaft protruding from the horse’s neck, attaching him to it in astonishment. Then, as if in slow motion, both horse and rider toppled over onto their side.
As that occurred, Ansar had unhooked his two-handed Bruderman axe. On silent, fur-booted feet, he circled around, looking for any other.
A second scout, hearing the muffled noise of the horse and rider collapsing, approached near where the first had gone down. Before he could react, a large axe head was yanking him from his horse.
He landed flat on his back hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He wheezed, but before he could get a word out, a white bear was standing over him. His field of view shuddered violently and then all was black.
Ansar had to plant his foot on the scout’s chest to lever his axe out of where it was stuck in the man’s skull. Once he had wrenched it free, he began clucking and whistling to the horse. He approached slowly, slowly, and shot out a hand to snatch the reins.
He swung up onto the horse and moved back towards the party. He stopped when he could make out the Skordian huscarls’ left flank, and then waited just back from where the trees gave way to the road’s shoulder.
ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ
As the trees started thinning out and they could see the road, Thayn and his huscarls slowed their advance and halted just at the edge of the tree line. Thayn looked to the left, wondering where Ansar had taken off to. Then he spotted him in the distance, mounted on a Nevan’s horse and chuckled quietly to himself.
Softly at first, but gradually getting louder, was the ‘Shun-shun-shun-shun’ from the feet of a multitude of men marching in unison. All the Haldermen hefted their spears and made last-second adjustments to their grip on their shields.
Erik was breathing in shallow, nervous breaths. Although this was not technically his first experience of being around a battle, it was the first in which he was actually taking part.
Venna, sensing this, looked back at him over her shoulder and gestured to him to breathe deeply, and to calm himself. Erik did as she silently instructed and nodded. The corner of Venna’s mouth twitched slightly in response, then she faced forward as the first of the enemy crested the ridge.
ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ
In his rust-spotted, banded armour, holding his tower shield in his sweaty hand, the mercenary was positioned on the rightmost file of the fourth decar in the column. The men marched in four files with screeners on horseback ahead and off to the sides of the road to scout for any threats, and with the archers bringing up the rear.
He had tried to make a go of it after his time in the legions was up, but farming life just wasn’t for him. The pay in the legions was not worth the risk of rejoining, so he figured he would become a sell-sword. Make some real money for his skills.
Everyone flinched as a horn sounded from the forest. A long haunting blast that sounded like nothing they had heard before. Then a deep voice from beyond the tree line bellowed, “Huscarls! Svlierrden trrooss!”
He nearly dropped his shield in fright as a large spear suddenly impaled the two men in front of him. Looking over to where the spears had come from, he could see nothing. Then he heard the order, “Form right!”
His left foot struck the ground, and he pivoted ninety degrees to the right as instinct took over. The entire unit turned as one, and men moved forward to cover the ragged holes torn into their ranks.
“Testudo!” All their shields came together as the inner men raised theirs for overhead cover. He was shivering and breathing shakily as adrenaline flowed into his blood. He could smell the subtle, sickly sweet smell as some of the men started urinating themselves.
The archers bolted off to the left side of the road to form up at what was now the new rear and began loosing volley after volley into the tree line.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
That voice from before shouted, “Skrrull vallen!... Bvordsacht!”
A terrifying noise burst forth from what sounded like clashing metal and voices from a hundred throats, “A-ooh, a-ooh, a-ooh, a-ooh!” as weapons smashed on shields in time with the chant, and then…silence. The archers at the rear had their arrows notched but were holding off, waiting for viable targets.
The mercenaries began getting tense, looking around frantically through the gaps in their shields to see where it had come from. But suddenly someone along their front yelled, “There’s only thirty of them!” as the enemy came into view. ‘Only thirty they may be,’ he thought, ‘but they are big!’
The surrounding men began relaxing just a little, as the fear started leaching out of them, and a modicum of confidence returned. Then he heard what sounded like the roar of a monster. When he looked in the direction it came from, he saw something so bizarre he could only watch in stunned disbelief. Riding straight for the decar to his right was a massive, pure white bear on one of their scouts’ horses.
ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ
They walked forward, toward the forty shields directly in front of them. Thayn was concerned that the Nevan formation would swing around the sides and envelop them, and then he heard Ansar roar as he rode straight at the corner of the leftmost formation.
A volley of arrows arched over the Nevan formation and rained down toward Thayn’s men. Orn focused his mind and sent an updraft pushing upwards, causing the arrows to overshoot the Halder ranks.
The horse Ansar was riding smashed the corner man on the left legion formation, driving him into the ground and taking three of his fellows down with him as it trampled them in a panic. Ansar leapt off the horse and into the fray. He seemed to swell as his eyes turned red and foam started leaking from his mouth.
‘Gods bless that maniac!’ thought Thayn, as Ansar’s reckless charge ensured that at least his left flank was secure. Then Thayn screamed out the order, “Chea-arge!” and all the Haldermen roared as they barrelled forward into the front rank of the mercenaries as they abandoned the overhead protection of the testudo, and braced to absorb the charge. The Haldermen levelled kicks at the enemy shields and used their axes to rip shields out of frantically grasping hands, and then the two shield walls clashed together.
As he stood head and shoulders above the Nevans, Ansar’s axe cut brutal swathes through them as he screamed barely intelligible obscenities in his rage. Every swipe of his axe sent blood, viscera, shields, and pieces of men through the air. The left formation was collapsing, and the mercenaries began panicking.
The bowmen had stopped loosing arrows, at risk if hitting their own men. Legionnaires in front ranks of the Nevan mercenaries were being brutalised by the larger Skordian Huscarls. The left side had all but collapsed under Ansar’s ferocity.
The mercenary commander was frantically yelling at the second from the right decar sergeant to wheel around to flank, but his decar was being pressed by the ferocity of Ansar’s attack. The men on the front rank of the mercenary force were being beaten down as the men to their rear pushed them into the line of huscarls.
Orn was keeping himself pressed against the opposing line of shields, following his mother’s lead by looking for an opening and launching a quick thrust with his sword through the gap, the occasional shrill cry indicative of a successful strike. A legionnaire’s short sword came over his shield, making his eyes widen in shock for a moment as the point hit his shoulder. Fortunately, a lamellar plate in his armour deflected it.
Erik was behind, pacing back and forth, growing increasingly frustrated. Then it happened. Something Venna prayed her boys wouldn’t inherit, something she dreaded - Erik turned berserk.
He seemed to expand as a strangled growl escaped his throat, and foam leaked from his lips. An almost imperceptible layer of steam emanated from his skin, his eyes turning bloodshot. He scrambled up the back of a huscarl, who yelped in surprise, as Erik stepped on his shoulder to leap into the middle of the decar on the right end of the Halder line. He began laying about with his father’s hammer, causing horrific injuries to whoever had the misfortune of being struck. This caused the mercenaries on the right flank to start losing their nerve. The tide of battle was turning.
ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ
As the Nevan lines began collapsing, five huscarls on horseback, bringing five more horses, burst from the tree line. As they neared the fighting, they halted momentarily as five huscarls climbed onto the empty saddles. The now ten riders went chasing down the archers who were trying to flee as they shot poorly aimed arrows back at them.
Thayn tried to order them to stop and hold the line, but their focus remained on mounting and chasing down the fleeing enemy. The rear three deci, with mostly fresh soldiers, moved forward to press the Haldermen, and the huscarls started losing ground.
Thayn called out, “Reform! Shield wall!”
The Halderman suddenly pulled back a couple of steps and reformed their line. And then leant back into the line of legionary shields. As one, they shouted “Move! Move! Move!” as they pushed, inching the legion troops back, occasionally ripping a shield away and hacking down a man with their axes. Ansar and Erik, lost in their own red-hazes, hacked and smashed at the surrounding men at their respective ends of the battlefield.
The archers and the first three deci, all but wiped out, fled for their lives. With the casualty rate the remaining deci were sustaining, the Nevans finally broke, and it turned into a full route. The huscarls that were still able gave chase, cutting as many down as they could.
Eventually, they regrouped, and Gereld tended to the wounded while Venna had Erik off to a side, now that he had calmed down. She berated him mercilessly as she yanked his ear, slapped him, gesticulated wildly and tapped the side of his head forcefully with her index finger, while he stood there looking downcast like a large puppy caught peeing on a rug. A couple of nearby huscarls were pointing and laughing at Erik’s misfortune. That was until Venna’s baleful glare found them, at which point they averted their eyes and quickly shuffled away. No man wished to share his predicament.
Ansar appeared to be missing, until someone found him lying amongst a mound of bodies, curled around his axe, fast asleep, with some vicious cuts to his arms and legs. Fortunately, thanks to Gereld, they suffered no fatalities and, with all their wounds healed, they had returned to full strength. Gereld then moved among the mercenaries and started healing them.
Thayn asked him, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Well, we may have questions, and they may have answers.”
“Huh…Right, you, and you. You two men! Yes, you and you. Stick with the old man and secure any prisoners.”
“Who are you calling ‘old man’, you cheeky little ginger-headed brat?”
Thayn laughed heartily at Gereld’s retort and then went about giving his other men instructions. They carried all the bodies off of the road, after relieving them of any valuables, and neatly piled them beside it. A task that took the better part of an hour.
Suddenly Venna called out, “He’s gone!”
Everyone stopped what they were doing for a moment to see what the commotion was about.
“What? Who’s gone?” asked Orn.
“The prisoner!”
“Uncle! The prisoner escaped!” Orn called out to Duke Thayn. While they were engaged in the melee, it was apparent that Vannur had slipped his bonds and made his escape. Thayn approached and let out an explosive breath. He then ordered the five huscarls who they left with the horses to stand before him.
As they stood subdued before their duke, with their heads bowed, he paced in front of them. He stopped and quietly, but forcefully, asked them, “Why did you leave your post? Hm? When you were ordered to remain and protect the mounts, a vital component in this whole venture, why then did you go chasing glory and entering the battle?”
One of them haltingly offered, “We didn’t want to miss out. Everyone else was getting to have fun, and we, well…”
“Oh. So it’s all right to disobey my orders because you were ‘missing all the fun’, hm?” His tawny eyes looked from face to face along the line and then yelled out, “Where are those five idiots who rode off the line? Bring them here!”
Five other huscarls with ashen faces, heads bowed, approached, and stood before Thayn. “All right, you lot. Since you like ‘fun’ so much, I have an especially ‘fun’ lot of activities for your enjoyment.”
A feral grin split the duke’s countenance. He continued in a loud, clear voice. “From henceforth, these ten individuals before me shall be on latrine duty, and shall be responsible for the maintenance of all our weapons, equipment and the care of all our horses. They will set up camp and they will break camp and the rest of us will not lift a finger because these lads just love to have fun!”
He was no longer smiling as he looked into each of their faces, searching for any hint of annoyance or indignation at their new roles within the detachment. “You men, through your lack of thought and negligence, allowed the prisoner to escape and nearly cost us the battle. Be grateful I don’t execute the lot of you for disobedience and incompetence in the face of the enemy! You may go, but I’ll be watching you a lot closely from now on.”
Once they had moved away, Thayn turned to Venna. “I am sorry about that. We’ll have to post additional sentries at night to make sure he doesn’t try to double back on us while we rest. But if he does, we will grab him again.”
“As upsetting as it is, I’m glad you didn’t execute them.”
Thayn snorted, “Merely an idle threat. They are just boys at the end of the day, and I’m sure they won’t be repeating that mistake. Not to mention we need every man we have. A force three times our number just attacked us. I don’t envision it getting easier moving forward.”
Gereld, who was nearby, interjected, “After Shufi questioned some of the surviving enemies, it would seem to me someone is going to a lot of trouble to waylay us, and sparing no expense to do it.”
“I’d have to agree with that. Someone of power and means is far too interested in us for my liking. Where are they, by the way?”
Gereld chuckled as he shook his head, “Shufi described to them in great detail what it means to ‘Become the Dragon’. I do not think you will see those men again.”
The entire battle took about three hours. Now they had mounted and were moving down the road. Thayn wanted to put as much distance from the stack of bodies as he could with their remaining daylight. They knew not what kind of predators an enormous pile of dead flesh would attract. And, sure enough, they could see vultures gathering, gliding in circles high up on broad wings. In the distance, they could hear an eery sort of yipping laughter, a sound that no sane human could make.
Shufi had ridden on ahead as usual, but he didn’t report back with anything notable. As the afternoon sun was sinking toward the western horizon, they could see in the distance the buildings of the town of Leila. Thayn signalled them to leave the road, and they set up camp for the night.