Mathew Mats Rogers SeriesChapter 3 Back on the Road Again
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The Road (or An Rathad)Chapter 24 free porn video
The town of Demptser existed to guard an important ford over the River Anesta. Yes, that is the same river I had encountered when I had been searching for the Naturm Sulph crystals.
Six squads of infantry had originally been tasked with holding that ford. That plan had been formed on the basis that the main concentration of Scanian troops had been elsewhere. Now there was an army of two thousand or more to deal with.
I flew King Kenneth and myself to the outskirts of the town and landed where no one would see us. The men on guard duty were alert and stopped us as we approached the town, but Kenneth was well known and we passed through the pickets in the darkness after we had been identified.
I was sceptical about just how much King Kenneth could do in the darkness, but I shouldn't have been. He seemed to have a photographic memory for the terrain, and was able to picture everything about Dempster and its surrounding defences. It appeared as if he didn't need daylight to plan how to get the most out of the scant forces at his disposal.
The ford was obviously the key. It was vital that Malcolm's forces not be allowed to cross. The infantry squads had drilled their tactics of blocking the ford with their bristling spears time and time again. Kenneth saw no need to confuse them by changing that.
What the King was agonising over was how to achieve the greatest impact with the troops we had brought, the troops that hopefully Malcolm knew nothing about. How to maximise the element of surprise and make it count?
It wasn't much of a 'force', really. There were 50 extra infantry, 40 archers, and a trop of twenty cavalrymen.
I could see that he was finding it difficult to come up with a plan. The site of the battle proper seemed obvious. The Axon forces had to concentrate on, and defend, the ford. That very fact limited what Kenneth could do.
Cavalry's advantage was its speed and mobility. To use mounted men in a static defence of the crossing would be a terrible waste.
Archers needed a clear field of fire to be at their most devastating. The banks of the river sloped gently at the ford, but rose enough to provide a natural firing position. The problem was that the window of opportunity for the archers would be a small one. The Scanians would engage with the Axon infantry fairly quickly and when that happened, the archers wouldn't be able to fire for risk of hitting their own side.
At least the extra three squads of infantry would be able to 'spell' the others in defending the ford.
King Kenneth and I used our links to 'the Road' to go without sleep, soaking up energy instead so that we could go over and over our options. His biggest concern was, once again, magic. We had no idea if Malcolm had his wife or either of his daughters with him, but there was a strong possibility he had.
"How strong is your magic. Sean?" asked the King.
"I haven't fully tested it, even in passing through the valley of perils. But I think it is very strong."
"Enough to compete with three experienced wizards?"
"Probably not. I learned a lot about myself after three years in a dungeon and when I was pitted against the 'perils', but I won't make claims that I can't back up."
The King nodded in appreciation. The last thing he needed was to depend on something or someone who proved to be unable to deliver.
"One on one wouldn't be a problem, I think."
"All right, that's good to know. Now, tell me again how you think the archers and the eagles can be used to our best advantage?"
Both of us made a tour of the units, talking to those on watch and any others who were awake. I think the men appreciated us doing that, they appreciated the fact that we had done everything we could to bolster their ranks. They appreciated the fact that we had come in person to stand with them.
The mood throughout the camp was sombre, but determined. I looked into the eyes of these Axonites and realised that I had grown proud to be one of them, they were fine men to be standing shoulder to shoulder with.
Two hours before dawn, King Kenneth and I woke the archers and gathered them round us in a small group.
"Listen carefully to what I need you to do today," said Kenneth.
He proceeded to outline the plan we had come up and I could see the archers growing worried. None of them said a word until the King had finished. Normally, no one would disagree with the monarch, but when faced with the prospect of their own mortality, people suddenly found the courage to challenge decisions. The King was comfortable with that it seemed and he answered all of the concerns that were raised.
"This is a dangerous task, but no worse than it will be for the infantry standing at the middle of the ford. You need to trust the Prince and me that it will work, but we know it will."
There was some further muttering, but I could see that the archers were moving off to prepare as the King and I had asked them to.
King Kenneth continued on to talk to the cavalry and the infantry and I went looking for the eagles.
Kenneth and I had decided our own place would be in the thick of the battle, in the middle of the ford. My training with Charles had made it clear that normally a commander would remain above the fight, so that he could direct his troops. However, this wasn't going to be a battle like that. So we wanted our power, our strength in linking to 'the Road', to be where it would do most good. We also knew it would be a major boost for the infantry's morale to see their King and their Prince (yep, that's me!) standing with them.
The night before, even before we had left Gower, Kenneth had predicted that Malcolm would attack at first light and with his full force. The sun rose from the east, which meant that dawn lightened the Scanian side of the River Anesta first. Malcolm used even this slight advantage to move his forces forward while we were still in darkness.
His scouts would have reported that there were only eight squads of infantry facing him and that they would be defending the ford.
The drumming of hooves was the first indication we had that an attack was underway. It also told us that Malcolm intended to try to use mounted troops to cut through the infantry.
I had my first sight of an enemy in battle moments later. It was frightening. I had to admit to myself that I was terrified, despite all of the advantages I had.
The ford was only wide enough for three squads of infantry so that in turn meant that the Scanian cavalry could only come forward twenty abreast. There were ten troops of twenty thundering towards the ford. The infantry were on foot and had to stand stationary waiting for these huge beasts to gallop directly at them. Men around me actually began to shake with fear and their spears and pikes were waving about nervously.
The sun lifted just above the horizon while the Scanian horsemen were still a hundred and fifty yards away from the river. But the sun wasn't the only thing to suddenly brighten the morning for the brave men of Axon!
Two squadrons of eagles swooped from the skies. If I live to be two hundred, I will never see such a beautiful, wonderful, frightening sight. Forty of them! They were absolutely unparalleled in how majestic, proud and noble they looked. Kings of the air, indeed! The huge birds screeched as they arrowed down towards the Scanian cavalry. I saw the horses rear up in terror at the noise of it.
The eagles dropped the huge rocks they were carrying and the cavalry advance became a static, bloody mess.
Even as the Iolairean pulled out of their dives and climbed away to the north, my eyes darted to a small rise on the Scanian side of the River. Our forty archers now stood and began to loose off volley after volley of arrows. The eagles had carried them across the river in the darkness and now they caught the Scanians by surprise. The infantry cheered their support!
A second Scanian cavalry force was thundering forward and our archers' arrows began to drop like rain amongst them. The rearmost mounted troops wheeled their horses away, intent on scything our men down before they could inflict any further damage.
The captain of this troop thought he was clever. He didn't aim directly for the archers, but rather at the woods behind and slightly closer to the river. No archer would want to be caught in the open by cavalry, so it was obvious where they would run.
Unfortunately for the captain he was wrong this time!
The men around me had been continuously cheering the actions of the eagles and the archers, cheering the dire ruin of the cavalry that moments before had had them trembling in their boots. Now they could see the dilemma for their comrades in arms, as the Scanian cavalry gave chase.
A collective low moan sounded in the throats of the infantrymen. The archers had done much to reduce the threat that the cavalry represented, but it looked as if they were about to pay a terrible price.
"Damn! Why are they running away from the river?" Shouted some of the men around me.
The captain of the Scanian cavalry also spotted the fact that the archers were running in the opposite direction to the one he had expected. He flung his arm out to signal his troops into a turn, but lost valuable time in making the manoeuvre.
The Axon archers ran line abreast as fast as their legs would carry them, but deeper into Scanian territory. Then the screeching of the Iolairean rent the very air around us once more.
The Scanian horses were unsettled again by the killing cries of the huge birds and that gained our archers precious seconds. As we watched, the eagles swooped low. Their strong legs were stretched below them - almost as if they were about to pluck a fish from a lake. Instead of fish, it was the archers that their wicked talons sank into.
Forty archers and forty eagles! It was a miracle (or an intervention by The Mother) that none of the eagles missed their mark, but it was a fact that all forty of the archers were plucked up from the field in which they ran. Soon the eagles had them back on our side of the river and they dropped the archers to safe ground.
If it hadn't all been so scary and dramatic, I would have been laughing at the reactions of the infantrymen. The seizure of the archers by the eagles had at first looked like an attack by the birds.
Once the archers were dropped and were close enough to see, the infantry could make out the thick leather 'cushions' strapped to the archers' backs. The eagles' talons had sunk into these and done no damage at all to our men. Another surprise attack had been successful!
When I turned my gaze back to the Scanians it was to count the casualties. Every one helped even the odds. The first attack hadn't even reached the river and that was great for morale. I wasn't fooling myself though; things were going to get bad real soon.
Our only casualty so far was one archer who had landed awkwardly and broken a leg. I left the ford to help the man as much as I could and then re-joined the King and the infantry to await the Scanians next move. Breakfast was a handful of cold oatmeal and a swig of water from a skin - it was just as well really, as I doubt my stomach could have taken anything more substantial.
It took some time for the cavalry to re-group and recover their fallen comrades. As that was happening we could see the huge body of infantry marching towards us. There had to be over fifteen hundred of them in massed ranks, their spears glinting now in the morning sunlight. I knew it wouldn't be long before our determination to defend the ford would be severely tested.
Once the battered and depleted horsemen withdrew, the ranks of infantry advanced in files. This still had a look of being pre-planned and I had yet to spot King Malcolm or anyone who looked as if he might be a senior officer on the Scanian side.
I did see troops of Scanian cavalry now spurring left and right along the riverbank and guessed that they were belatedly riding to seek another way across the river. I knew that their search would be in vain.
As the infantry came within range, our archers began firing, this time from the relative security of the riverbank on our side of the river.
I was shocked to see just how much damage forty archers could do in only a few minutes. Admittedly it would have been a lot worse if the infantry didn't have shields that they could raise above their heads. Some squads were better at this than others - I saw some where the entire squad raised their shields at the same time, linking them to form a solid cover above their heads, and thereby avoiding the worst of the hail of arrows.
"Welcome to battle, Sean!" cried the King.
He had a wild look in his eyes and almost looked as if he was relishing the prospect of pitting his strength against the enemy.
The enemy infantry had begun to run, their spears and pikes now held before them. Our own squads braced themselves for the clash and I felt my nerve weakening, as I had to stand still and wait for it, just like all the others beside me.
Both sides were screaming at each other. I could pick out individual faces amongst the Scanian ranks. Their faces were twisted, growling, snarling, and foaming at the mouth. It was like in a movie scene on one of the big cinematic screens. What I saw was like a close-up. It was a silent, slow motion snapshot of the particular part of the Scanian charge I was staring at. And then that illusion was rudely shattered, as the Scanian's hit us with all of their momentum.
This was not silent. This was not slow motion. This was brutal. This was man against man, a fight for your very survival where base instincts took over.
The Scanian front ranks were pressed forward irresistibly by the weight of numbers behind them. Our own ranks of infantry grounded the butts of their spears and pikes and let the Scanians impale themselves on them.
Incredibly, I could see that the fight was basically between the fifty or so men at the front of our squads and the same number at the front of the Scanian force. Despite the spears, there was no room for others to engage!
Some Scanians were pressed from behind, but floundered into deeper water, at the sides of the ford. Unable to move as quickly in the water, these were picked off by our archers.
The rear ranks of Axon soldiers had daggers drawn and they darted forward between their comrades to stab at those of the enemy who had been pressed forward under the spears.
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