Vilmos saw Captain Mikhal glance toward the city then heavenward. From the direction of the city came the sounds of a raging battle. It was midmorning, only two hours after they had found Father Jacob, and things looked surely grim for the defenders. Smoke was rising from the eastern part of the city as well as the southern part now.
“They’ll come. Patience, Captain Mikhal,” Xith said.
Captain Mikhal fixed eyes filled with rage on Xith. “No more, your promises are empty. For the life of me, I don’t understand why I listened to—”
“Please,” Father Jacob said, “don’t you see the folly in such a pointless attack? Only united with the soldiers of Imtal do we have a chance.”
“I see only that the defenders will soon be overwhelmed. The Quashan’ garrison isn’t the largest in the Kingdom, isn’t the strongest, isn’t the best equipped, but we’ll be damned if we stand by and watch our homes destroyed. Never underestimate the determination of men defending their homes. We’ll fight. We’ll fight like demons possessed.”
“You should relax,” Xith said.
Father Jacob said, “I pray that you will listen to reason.”
“Save your prayers for the enemy when we drive them from our lands. The burning in my heart is matched two-thousandfold by the burning in the hearts of my soldiers. We fight.”
Before Jacob or Xith could respond, Captain Mikhal turned about on his heel in military fashion, and strode away.
Xith stopped Jacob from going after him. “You cannot change the minds of those who are already convinced to the contrary.”
Captain Mikhal didn’t waste any time, already he was barking orders to his men. Vilmos didn’t know military tactics, still, it was clear Captain Mikhal did. Vilmos was about to speak when a masculine voice sounded in his mind.
He deems himself a failure. He will charge to his death if you let him.
“I know,” Xith said. “Can you ride?”
Seth sent an odd sensation of warmth that Vilmos had slowly come to realize meant a curt yes.
Xith motioned to an attendant and indicated the man should bring three horses. Xith said, “Brother Galan, watch well young Vilmos. He is an apt apprentice, and I shouldn’t like to see him do anything that will sever our relationship prematurely.”
At the hearing, Vilmos smiled. Xith had expressed genuine feelings for him. Then when he realized Xith aimed to race off without him, Vilmos frowned.
Before Vilmos could voice an objection, Xith said, “A very important task falls to you, Vilmos and Galan. You must go up into the highlands, then circle west until you can see Quashan’s west gatehouse. There you must await the arrival of His Highness, Prince of Great Kingdom. Explain the situation to him as you know it.” Xith looked directly at Vilmos. “Remember what I said about Erravane.”
Xith paused and cast a sidelong glance to Captain Mikhal. A runner had just returned. “Captain,” the runner said, “the sub-commander of the Foot awaits your orders.”
Captain Mikhal nodded to the sub-commander of the Horse who was beside him. The sub-commander came to attention then departed. Captain Mikhal went off in the opposite direction.
Just then, attendants returned with the horses. Xith, Seth and Father Jacob mounted. It seemed Xith was going to say something more, but then Captain Mikhal ordered his foot soldiers to begin their advance. The three squadrons of foot soldiers, some fifteen hundred men, began their charge. They burst from the forest and raced down the slopes that they knew so well, into the Quashan’ valley basin, using the contours of the land to hide their movement as best as they could.
Meanwhile, the horse soldiers waited. Captain Mikhal had divided the Horse into two files. One would later sweep in along the northern flank of the Foot, the other the southern, but only when the time was right, for Captain Mikhal hoped the Foot would cover considerably more than half the distance to the city before the enemy would spot them and turn about to set up a rear defense. Only then would the Horse begin their charge.
Captain Mikhal’s stallion pranced anxiously as the captain held the animal’s reins taut. Xith, Seth and Father Jacob, on horseback, were beside him now. Captain Mikhal reached into his saddlebag and handed each a strip of green and gold cloth. “Field insignia,” Vilmos heard the captain say, “tie it around your right arm. Do not lose it, it is the only thing that will identify you with the Kingdom forces in the mayhem to come. Father Jacob, stay close, I will do my best to protect you, for we will surely have need of your healing abilities.”
“Would that I were a priestess,” muttered Jacob.
From high overhead, Vilmos heard the call of an eagle. He looked up, and saw it circling above the city. He looked to Xith. The shaman’s eyes were glossed over.
The Foot was nearly halfway across the valley floor. Vilmos expected at any time to see the enemy host turn to form a defense. But they didn’t. And the Foot continued their silent race.
Vilmos glanced to Xith again, then back down the hillside. He looked beyond the Kingdom foot soldiers to the great walled city of Quashan’. He couldn’t see the men upon the walls, though he knew they were there. They were the ones pushing back the breaching ladders and responding to the enemy’s relentless charges with catapult volleys.
Suddenly the eagle dove from the heavens and just when it seemed it would crash into the walls of the city, it disappeared. Xith came out of his trance and said something to Captain Mikhal that Vilmos couldn’t hear. Captain Mikhal raised his sword arm high overhead, momentarily his broad-bladed sword glistened in the late morning sun, then he thrust the blade forward. The charge began. More than five hundred riders spurred their mounts into a race.
Vilmos stood enthralled, unable to break away. The thunder of hooves blocked out the sounds of the distant battle. Galan at his side was silent. She too watched and listened. Eventually though, the thunder grew distant. The first excited shouts erupted from the enemy host and men scrambled to set up a frenzied rear defense.
Midway down the valley’s slopes now, the Kingdom horse soldiers spurred their mounts, driving the animals as fast as they dared. Arrows from the Kingdom bowmen began to penetrate the enemy lines and soon afterward the first wave of foot soldiers struck the enemy’s rear flank. Privately, Vilmos cheered for the Kingdomers, but he was also torn between loyalties. Some of those on the field were from his homeland.
As Vilmos watched, Sever’s Knights of the Lance, their red and white banners waving in the wind, rallied for a clash with the Kingdom riders. Instead of turning to engage them, Captain Mikhal’s horse soldiers continued directly into the enemy ranks. Even from this distance, Vilmos heard the screams of despair, agony and panic that followed.
It is time, imparted Galan into Vilmos’ mind. We have a long walk ahead.
Captain Mikhal’s mount reared up on its hind legs. All around the captain was the press of enemy soldiers. He removed his foot from the stirrup, kicked out an approaching soldier. The heel of his boot struck the side of the man’s skull. Abruptly the soldier stopped, his knees crumbled under his weight. Captain Mikhal didn’t pause. He turned his mount, struck down with his long blade, and like a cleaver, it hew a defender before him. Captain Mikhal continued his charge.
Xith tried to stay close to Captain Mikhal. He defended himself as best as he could, relying largely on his magic shield while he concentrated on other matters. There was a breach midway along Quashan’s east wall and in just a few seconds as he watched, dozens of attackers had pushed their way up onto the wall. There they were carving out an ever-growing section. At the base of the wall, many more were preparing to raise breaching ladders and behind them, hundreds waited to climb to the top of the wall.
Xith regarded Seth, the elf’s prowess in battle was awe-inspiring. In the midst of the enemy ranks, Seth had leapt from his horse, seemingly undaunted by the fact that he had been surrounded. Now, all around him lay the dead and the dying.
“I wish I had a hundred like him,” shouted Captain Mikhal to Xith above the din of the battle.
“I wish there were a hundred like him.” Xith pointed to the breached section of the wall. “Do you think we can reach it?”
Captain Mikhal’s eyes went wide, apparently he hadn’t seen the breach until now. He raised his sword high, and behind him a trumpeter’s call rang out. He pointed his sword in the direction of the wall.
“To the wall,” he shouted and charged.
The trumpeter’s call rang out again, and while the bulk of the Kingdom forces were caught in attacks, hundreds rallied and raced after their commander.
Xith turned his mount about and charged in Seth’s direction. Two bolts of lightning, cast first from his left hand then his right, cleared the way through the enemy ranks.