John Carr - Kalvan Kingmaker

There was another thunder clap and hundreds more dropped. Now the iron hats were reforming. Althea had to see what was happening to her army. Something sharp parted her hair and for a moment she was blind as blood filled her eyes. Ignoring the pain, she used her sleeve to wipe her eyes. Her archers were completely disorganized now. Many had turned their mounts and were fleeing back to safety. Others milled around like sheep caught in the open and surrounded by a wolf pack.

Althea looked up the hill and saw several hundred dismounted cavalrymen with the firesticks that Sargos called arquebuses. But these weren't the usual firesticks that had to be right next to a target to hit it. She doubted that her strongest archers could match the range of these 'new' terrible firesticks.

As another thunderclap sounded and cleared saddles by the score, Althea gave the order to sound retreat! It was time to disengage from the enemy and find Sargos to tell him about these new firesticks before they surprised him, too.

Warlord Sargos had just sliced the arm off a Hostigi soldier with his bat-tleaxe, when he saw Althea-her face bloody-riding toward him. His heart almost stopped beating until he realized that it was dried blood, not fresh. "What news do you bring?"

Althea looked down to avoid his eyes.

"What happened to your archers?" He knew in his heart the news was bad because she would have never left them otherwise.

She looked up. "Kalvan's men hit us with far firesticks. They shot my army apart, far beyond even our arrows range. I had the horns blown rather than see our archers die like puppies in a bag tossed into the river."

Sargos said, "You have done all anyone could. We are losing ground here, too. Kalvan's big fire tubes are butchering our warriors. Right before Sargos' eyes, one of the chariots took a direct hit from a cannon ball, snowing the clansmen with splinters.

He saw a big chunk heading their way and shoved Althea out of her saddle. Then something hard hit Sargos' head and before he could react the world turned pitch black.

V

Captain-General Harmakros hastily pulled on his high-combed helmet. The battle of the two kings had changed dramatically in the last half candle. The Mounted Rifles had taken a terrible toll on the archer cavalry and after half a dozen volleys the archers had left the field. That allowed their heavily battered Rathoni allies to reform and re-join the main battle downhill, which had already changed momentum following the arrival of Alkides Flying Batteries. Using case shot, the guns had scythed through the horde, killing thousands and putting even more to flight. He had watched in amazement as entire troops disappeared and war chariots were blown into kindling.

Harmakros gave marching orders for the rest of the reserve and then mounted his horse and left to join the waiting Mounted Rifles. He noticed that his pipe was still clenched between his teeth, and when he removed it from his mouth he saw that the he'd almost bitten through the stem.

Harmakros spurred his horse on. He might have missed the battle's main course, but he was determined to get his share of the table scraps!

Kalvan knew the tide of battle had turned for good, when he saw there were no nomads within pistol shot. Already the nomad army was breaking up and scattering to the wind. His soldiers and Nestros' were gearing up for the chase and slaughter to follow; soon it would be time to give the order to the horn blowers to sound a halt.

As Kalvan and his Lifeguard were maneuvering between the dead horses and piles of bodies, he spotted two soldiers, one a clansman the other a Rathoni soldier, pinned together in an eternal embrace by crossbow bolts. The battle was still in force, although on this part of the battlefield it had evolved into a hundred small desperate actions-each one a life and death struggle to the participants, even though the main battle of the horde had broken. The Urgothi were similar to the early Germanic tribesman, who faced the Roman legions; they often chose an honorable death over capture and possible imprisonment-or slavery. Having seen more than his share of Styphon's Temple farm slave pens, Kalvan didn't blame them.

One figure drew Kalvan's eye. In the midst of a mound of dead bodies five or six high and surrounded by Nestros' men-at-arms, stood the largest soldier Kalvan had ever seen here-and-now-bigger even than Rylla's big bodyguard Xykos. Kalvan had thought Duke Mnestros was big-if this giant wasn't seven feet tall, he was six foot, eleven inches. The giant Urgothi, with his winged conical helmet and a blond walrus mustache, looked as if he'd just stepped out of a Viking dragonship.

The giant, and eight or nine other warriors wearing the same winged helmets, were grouped around a Raven Banner that Kalvan identified as belonging to Warlord Sargos. These winged warriors must be part of Sargos' personal bodyguard, thought Kalvan. He had heard that Sargos was 'blessed' with visions from the Raven Goddess. If Kalvan remembered correctly, the Viking berserkers often made sacrifices to their Crow Goddess. He motioned to his Lifeguard to follow behind and made his way carefully over the littered battlefield on his borrowed horse.

At almost the same moment, a company of Mounted Rifles led by Colonel Democriphon, rode up to the battling warriors. The tableau froze, friend and foe alike, when the Mounted Riflemen aimed their rifles at the battling Urgothi.

Everyone on the battlefield has seen those rifles in action and knew that death was in the air. The fighting stopped and Nestros' heavy infantry began to pull back. The giant Viking laughed and held up his huge sword and began to twirl it in circles above his head in preparation for the berserker death charge.

"HALT!" Kalvan shouted.

Everyone paused, including the giant berserker. "The battle is over."

One of the riflemen started to aim his rifle, but the flat of Democriphon's sword blade knocked it aside. "Don't try that again, or it'll be your head. That was your Great King!"

The giant looked back and forth, between the two men, his lungs laboring like bellows. Then he lowered his sword and sunk the point into the muddy loan. "If I am to surrender, let it be to a real King." He nodded to Kalvan.

Kalvan rode over, his Lifeguard crowding him like mother hens. The other winged warriors had set down their axes and swords.

When Kalvan rode up within arms distance, the giant bowed his head and said, "I will surrender, but first I must know the name of the man who saved my life."

"I am Great King Kalvan of Hos-Hostigos."

"Your fame has traveled far, Great King Kalvan. I offer you my sword." Even before his Lifeguard could draw a breath, the giant had reached over, drawn his sword blade out of the ground and, in a magician-like maneuver, flipped it in the air so that the sword hilt, not the blade, landed in Kalvan's hands. The sound of breaths being drawn in and then suddenly released in relief sounded all around him.

Kalvan's hand felt as if it had just been hit with a bat, but he didn't blink.

The giant watched and then smiled. In a thick Trygathi accent, he said, "Yes, this King is worthy of respect. I am Vanar Halgoth. Someday I will fight at your side."

Kalvan nodded his head. "Vanar Halgoth, I would be honored to count you among my warriors and as a friend. If you give your word, not to try and escape or harm my soldiers, I will grant you parole."

"You have my word as a man and my honor as a disciple of the Raven Hag of War."

Kalvan turned to Colonel Democriphon, "Give parole to any one of Sargos' Bodyguard that give their oath. These are honorable men."

Halgoth turned to his warriors and rattled off a speech in Urgothi. After each one held his hand over his chest, the giant turned and said, "They give their word."