Brandubh mounted his horse and took up position alongside the General who greeted him with a beaming smile, “So it would seem that our friend managed to succeed after all, they are opening the gates.”
“So it would seem.”
Brandubh nodded to Fathach, at his signal he spurred on his horse and wheeled away.
Out of the gates came eight Druaidíi, five mounted on their Great Elks and three bound and tied stumbling over the broken ground as they were dragged alongside. The gates remained fully open behind them. The procession pulled up and halted about halfway between the walls and the camp. The exact spot where they had last met for discussion.
Maximo signalled towards a member of his royal guard, “Take twelve men and ride out to meet them, tell them we are most pleased with their decision and wish to discuss the terms of surrender. Then escort them back here to me, I wish to see Ardgal, his son and his advisor first hand.”
“Very well sire.”
The General turned to Brandubh, “It is a good day. Belvoir will soon be ours and our victory along with it. Those back in Milesia will be most pleased.”
Brandubh didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on Geara and his guard as they approached the Druaidíi. Maximo unbothered, called out to one of his personal stewards, “Clarius, have the Royal tent prepared and make sure there is wine enough for plenty.”
The General scratched his chin, “Why are they still talking, I told them to bring them here.”
Before Maximo could receive his response the pale morning light was suddenly transformed into a blazing frenzy as the representatives to a man were engulfed in a ball of flames. The sound of their screams however was drowned out by the even more ominous sound of the low rumbling horns of the Druaidíi reverberating from the city walls.
Maximo sat rigid in his saddle, his face and body unmoving, “It’s a trick, they mean to attack. They are riding out to us.”
To whom he was speaking only he knew for the words were not directed at anyone in particular. Out of the open gates poured the Druaidíi, claíomhs shining like broken shards of mirror in the morning sun. Alongside and amongst them came the Giants with their impossibly large beasts of war, the Daedan, Brandubh’s horse reared at the unexpected eruption of noise.
“Form the lines, spears and shields, spears and shields. Hold strong, Hold strong.” Brandubh quickly sped to retreat behind the wall of men advancing into position, urged on by Maximo as he collected himself and recovered his composure. However prepared or not, it mattered little when a six tonne stampeding boar ravages through your line.
Branudbh swerved to avoid as a Daedan came trampling spear, shield and man as it crashed into the forest. As they came on charging through Brandubh saw now that it was no last desperate attempt to destroy the men but rather an organised, focused drive through their numbers to reach the safety of their forest. It’s not an attack, it’s an escape. They mean to flee.
Their battle arrangement confirmed it. First came the Daedan, the sharpest point of the attack, then the Giants completely dismantling and attempts of the men to reform the line, and finally came the Druaidíi on their Great Elks.
Brandubh looked all about his as the chaos ensured, so swift was the charge that some of the Druaidíi had already broken through into the forest, eagerly urging those behind them onwards.
That the Druaidíi had mounted such an attack was unexpected but not unforeseen. Brandubh knew Ardgal would not be easily dismissed.
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A new sound blared across the battlefield cutting through the horns of the Druaidíi and Giants, Fathach. He came in a vicious circle galloping through the camp on a direct course to intercept the remainder of the Druaidíi as they raced into the forest. They had a loose guard encircling them but in their centre were the new mothers and children of the Druaidíi, their future.
Branudbh had instructed Fathach to gather 1000 of Partholóns finest calarymen in case of such an eventuality. They could flee but they would not without paying the price. It would be a most devastating blow to the Druaidíi. Some of those protecting the woman and children saw the threat as it came down on them and made to disrupt the ambush but were quickly stuck down as the men smashed into their exposed flank.
Aileann’s Lord watched as Fathach and his lead troops cut off the route to the forest and the first females and children were struck down as they tried in vain to avoid or pull up. Severe but necessary, they could not be allowed escape.
The men had by now reorganised and the wall of shields and spears were now enclosing the Druaidíi, trapping them and leading them head on into the waiting crossbows and spears of the Partholóns Cavalry.
A small few of the Druaidíi managed to get past the blockade but any gaps they created were few and far between. They would not be enough for the mothers and children to pass safely through. Brandubh watched as a Druaida and her young babe were flung from their Elk, she scrambled to rise but was set upon immediately and impaled by the spear of one of O’Hara’s men. The babe was lost in sight. Lost forever.
A flash of light caught his eye, its source came from the rear of the Druaidíi’s column where three riders stood out. A blur of ice and fire they three were launching a barrage of strikes against the men desperately trying to hold off the encroaching flanks and the advancing crossbowmen. All futile, not enough, not near enough.
Brandubh turned away, the chaos provided other opportunities he needed focusing on.
“My Lord.”
The shock in his man Davar’s voice brought Brandubh back before he could move away. “What is it now?”
Davar didn’t respond, instead staring blankly behind Brandubh.
He swivelled and followed Davar’s gaze to the Druaidíi’s rear. From the back came not a single flame or burst but what appeared to be a ball of flame hurtling towards the Men’s blockage. It bypassed all in its way catapulting forward, crossbow, spear, shield, nothing stemmed it’s progress. This was different to anything he had seen before from the Druaidíi, the cavalry men tried to spin away but it was coming too fast and they were moving too slow.
The inevitable blast as the first men met the ball of fire almost knocked him off his horse such was its strength and he only barely managed to stay atop the saddle. He swivelled struggling to get his mount under control again. The light blinded, by the time he could finally open his eyes against the glare where a wall of cavalry had once been was left a mass of bodies smoking and burning where they lay. Those not taken scrambled desperate to get away. The men on the flanks peeled back the initiative gone and the trap broken. The mother and babes burst through eager and spurred on by the clear sight of the forest and safety. Away from the others Brandubh saw two Druaidíi leap from their elks and race over to their fallen brother, the flames erupted and sunk back down to the earth like great embers of a fire fading and dying away. In the middle of where the cavalry had been most decimated lay a single body.
The last of the Druaidíi rushed unhindered into the forest, there would be no claiming them now inside Belvoir, no man could safely traverse unknown on a blind chase through its depths. They were gone. For now.
All that remained were the three. No one moved, no one stirred, all eyes rested on the small group. Brandubh did not have to look closer, he knew already who they were. But he needed to see for himself which one lay dying on the forest floor. He pulled up some twenty yards from where they stood, his eyes were immediately drawn to the fallen Druaidíi. The smouldering remains were a broken, bloody mess. Even from his position Brandubh had to steady himself from looking away.
One of the Druaidíi lay across the body, the other stood shakily, claimh in hand ready to defend, he was wounded and badly so. Brandubh raised his hand. They are my enemy, Milesia's enemy.
Brandubh paused, an unfamiliar feeling in his stomach. The feeling of uncertainty.