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The Hygerians were always left a little behind in the field of strategy and tactics. It was only after each new method of countering existing Asbalnian attacks was countered in turn and proved disastrous that they were able to begin revising their procedure.
But they did learn, and in the later stages of the war, learned with commendable swiftness. Indeed, had the war lasted even another month, they might have reversed the tide, for they had always the advantage of numbers.
It was for this reason Rorick urged a campaign of speed, trying always to keep the momentum of the attack, always to attack just before the Hygerians were ready.
-The Hygerian War
Randell of Avantir
Not too much later, far-ranging scouts brought in word of a force of six hundred Hygerians marching toward the Hills. They foraged as they came, and the villagers could gain a fairly clear idea of their intentions through casual conversations, which the villagers dutifully passed on to the scouts.
These circumstances presented somewhat of a problem for Rorick and Conel. Neither felt it would be safe to use the infantry yet, but they could not meet so many Hygerians in pitched battle. The Hygerians had not included any cavalry in this force, however. A fact which allowed the Horsemen some advantage.
They divided their force into three groups, Conel having fifty, Rorick fifty, and a young Hillman, Randell, cousin to Helana, led the remaining fifty. They rode out to wear down the Hygerians with continual raids, small ambushes which would cost the enemy a few here and a few there, but never allow them to fight a pitched battle until they were worn down and demoralized.
Somewhere around four hundred Hygerians actually reached the Hills, and by this time only ninety of the Horsemen could ride to meet them. They had more men trained and ready, but they lacked mounts. A great deal of debate went on about the possibility of using their infantry in this battle.
They had somewhat over five hundred, most of them trained to some degree, but there was still concern about their readiness. There was concern, too, about the risk of exposing the fact they had more than a very effective band of mounted raiders before they were completely ready. It was over this point that Conel, Rorick, and Beran met one night in Carill Don. Conel spoke first.
“It is in my mind that we should throw in the infantry and utterly destroy these Hygerians. The infantry would turn the advantage of numbers to our side.”
Rorick nodded gravely. “It would do that, but I believe it is too soon. Beran, what do you say of our troops? Could we fight off twice our number of enemies?”
After a moment’s frowning consideration, Beran spoke, “I wish, Milord King, that I could say yes to that. But I must be truthful. If one lone Hygerian escapes to report a large force of infantry in the hills, we shall have a thousand Hygerians in the Hills, and several thousand more forming garrisons in the lowlands just below. With the aid of the Icarians, we may keep them from the Hills, but we could never come down, and they need only keep us from the lowlands to prevent our Horsemen from being effective, if only through lack of horses. In another week, I would lead the infantry against up to half again their number.
“So,” said Conel softly. “I had feared so. Are they doing well?”
“Aye, Milord King, very well for what they are. You see, we have all young men here, full of fire and fight, who have been ready to give battle since the night they first came here. If we do not let them fight within about two weeks, they will begin to desert and lose their fire. The same will happen if we lose our first battle, or indeed, if we win the first three.
“We require older men, steady men, who can hold the youngsters in line and give them an example to follow.”
“Do we have no older men, then?” asked Conel in a mystified tone.
“Aye, Milord King, it is the temper of the Asbalnian farmer. Remember that the Innkeeper at Virden did not truly believe you were who you claimed to be until he saw the Sword. The word may be out from here to the Southern Sea that Conel is in the Hills with a host, but your farmer will say, “that may be will be, but I’ll not leave my farm for traipsing and fighting across the land unless I know surely who I fight for, and that means I must see the King face to face, with his army and all.”
He smiled briefly, then continued. “We must take Virdan, or do something equivalent, within two weeks. If we can thus prove ourselves, the older men will come. If not, we will be forced to think again. I will not say that a failure here would doom us. But it would put us under the necessity of reversing the feeling which will grow up about us, that we are not capable of doing that we have set out to do.
“Perhaps in that time we ought to think of hiring a few of the barbarians of the Wild Lands to fight for us.”
Conel’s eyes flared. “That will I never do! Then I bring wolves over the threshold to drive out the wolves already here, may I be slain like a mad dog! Should we perhaps trade the Hygerians for the Harvatai in their war-carts, with long swords and javelins, ruling our villages with cruelty and terror?”
Rorick smiled slightly. “We will not call the wolves over the border, Conel. We must fight the Hygerians in ways and times and places where they will not expect us. And we must look to finding if there are any in the lowlands who know aught of the construction and garrison of the new fortress of Virdan.”
One morning, the whole of the mounted force rode out of Carill Don. About five miles from the village, in an area spotted by clumps of brush, they prepared to meet the enemy. They sent ten men out to remove any scouts who might come near the ambush and warn the main body. Rorick looked at Conel and said,
“A sword, a bow, and a strong swift steed,
And what more does a warrior need?
A comrade riding at his side;
For bare is the back that does brotherless ride.”
The Prince grinned and answered,
“A good war-horse beneath the knees;
A banner that blows above in the breeze.
Aye, others have ridden alone, and died;
For bare is the back that does brotherless ride.”
Then they clasped hands for an instant, looking into each other’s eyes, before Conel turned his horse and rode to his place across the field. Rorick watched him go, the true son of Conel the Wild, whose pride and spirit burned in his eyes.
Far away, Rorick could hear the faint sounds of the skirmishing between his few scouts and the Hygerians. He looked down his line; the state of some of the horses made him shiver with anxiety, but they felt the need to mount as many as they possibly could. He could just see one of the three they had bought from the shifty-eyed Harvatai trader with the horrible accent and the limp.
And as for armour, that was mostly Hygerian manufacture. They had broken off and ground down the spikes from the helmets and shields; it was most important with the helmets, as it was too easy in the dust and confusion of a battle to mistake friend for foe, without the friend wearing something so distinctively of the foe.
Suddenly there was a hot of horses on the far ridge. For a few instants, they milled there, and he could make out the movements as they loosed arrows at the yet unseen enemy.
He sensed the movement that ran down the line and saw that the man next to him had nocked an arrow. He cast another eye over the motley equipment and clothing, the occasional braids peeping out from under helmets, braided with brightly dyed feathers, the fur kilts, even numerous bare feet. What a tatterdemalion army to be challenging the Hygerian might.
And at that moment, the first of the barbarians showed over the ridge, pursuing the fleeing Horsemen. The Horsemen did not flee quick; it being their task to fix the attention of the enemy, preventing them from looking for the hidden ambushers until it was too late. Now the Hygerians blackened the skyline, poured down the slope. The skirmishing Horsemen pulled back farther and farther, still turning to loose arrows into the mass.
Now suddenly the Horsemen were galloping for the brush, and he could see individual Hygerians, dark complexioned faces in an array of expressions, mostly of fierce concentration. The few bowmen among them drew arrows and loosed them in quick, precise movements, advancing a few paces at a time, with the rest of the host advancing behind in what had been a column but was now a crowd. They were sure of battle now, and were anticipating the necessity of coming line.
A trumpet sounded, far across the field where Conel had stationed himself, and Icarian bows lifted, bent, and launched their shafts. Again, there was the shiver of motion along the line as they stooped forward to draw another arrow from their saddle-quivers. Hygerians fell, and arrows continued to fly.
Even so, the Hygerians formed their battle-line. Rorick, drawing his bow and loosing again, muttered to himself, “Now, Randell.”
And then Randell came, galloping down at the Hygerian flank as they moved out into position, twenty men behind him loosing arrows with all the skill they possessed. For this part of the battle, Randell had been assigned the men most proficient at shooting from horseback. They showed it, too, and the Hygerians began an effort to face them.
Randell’s group stopped suddenly, wheeled, and rode back, but turned again at the hilltop to shoot down on the Dark ones. Rorick shouted, “Conel and Asbaln!” and urged his horse forward. About half the line was with him, guiding their horses with their knees, holding nocked arrows at full draw until they were very close, then loosing into the Hygerians, who were frantically looking to see if they were actually being flanked on the far side.
As they loosed their arrows, Rorick’s force dropped their bows onto the pommels of their saddles, and swords rasped out of scabbards. They clove into the confused Hygerians, many of whom fled already. From this point, Rorick lost sight of what happened elsewhere, for there was a time of desperate hand-to-hand fighting.
The Sword swung and flashed in his hand, and part of his mind heard the ancient cry from the lips of the Icarians, “Kr Yrriech! The earth endures!”
Though he could not see what was happening, he knew well enough what ought to be happening. While the Hygerians before him sought to hold firm in the face of the cavalry attack, Conel would continue to shoot into the other flank. At the same time, Randell could lead his own little force down behind the Hygerian line, forcing them to look to their rear as well as their front. Then, when Conel judged them to be sufficiently disordered, he would lead his own force in to the attack.
Dust rose among around the striving, struggling men; iron rang on iron, war-cries rose in the air. It seemed to Rorick that he had led his charge an hour ago, and where were Conel and Randell? Suddenly he was out in the open, and the only Hygerians before him were those fleeing toward the brash.
They pursued them, attacking whenever little groups of them formed to fight, urged by pride or desperation or both, until at last Rorick looked around to find five men following him. He stopped and called them to him. “We are all too scattered. Go, find whoever you can of our men, tell them to rally. The battle is won, and all we can do now is lose badly needed men end horses in fighting foes made strong by desperation.”
The battle brought them a good deal of equipment, much of which went to supply their own war-host. Much else went to the limping, shifty-eyed Harvatai trader and some of his colleagues, for the horse situation was now near to critical. They continued their horse-hunting expeditions into the lowlands, though it was more and more difficult to get horses from the farmers.