John Carr - Siege of Tarr-Hostigos

The light foot soldiers began to run forward and the heavy infantry, with full body shields and long spears, went into a double time. The massed heavy cavalry followed to exploit any breaks in the enemy lines. If all went well, the archers and javelin throwers would sting the enemy army, bringing forth the more impetuous cavalry and foot. Then the skirmishers would retreat behind the shield wall and the slaughter would commence; at least, that was how it was done in the homelands. Nothing was certain against an unknown enemy-except uncertainty.

Prince Varrack, purple plumes jutting out from the back of his burgonet, pointed to the growing mass of men, the sun sparkling off their armor, in the distance. "There are the Ros-Zarthani barbarians. We shall ride over them as the buffalo trample the Ruthani tent cities!"

"Your Lordship, I suggest we move to the rear just in case a stray spear comes our way," one of the Barons suggested. "Let the professional soldiers do their work."

"There will be few casualties today, my friend." Prince Varrack said, slapping the Baron on the back with his gauntleted hand. The nobleman, who wore no more armor than a silvered breastplate over his red and black velvet doublet, staggered forward, almost falling off his mount. When he had regained his poise, he gave Varrack a pained expression. "My back hurts!"

Varrack had to choke back a laugh. Such weakness was all too typical of Greffa's decadent nobility. Many of them wore more perfume than his courtesans. This will all change after the vile dog Theovacar is put in his place. I will return the Middle Kingdoms to their past glory, with Thagnor the king of cities, and it all begins today with my crushing defeat of these barbarians.

Another noble, this one with a cultivated lisp, announced, "Please, let us stay at the front, Varrack, so we can watch these creatures die up close!"

A young Count, with a wispy blonde beard, cried, "This is so much better than one of Theovacar's Spectacles. One grows tired of pantomime sea battles and bear fights."

Captain-General Errock said with gritted teeth, "Your Lordship, my men need to prepare for battle. We will be hampered if we have to spend our time protecting your guests." The way he stepped on the last word left no doubt about his own feelings concerning the martial ability of Grefftscharrer nobles in general.

"We shall retire, Captain-General. It is your job to win this battle." Under his breath, Prince Varrack added, "And win me the glory I need to challenge Theovacar in his own city."

The battle opened almost like a scroll-written exercise out of Arch-Stratego Zarphu's library. It appeared the Grefftscharrer soldiers held his army in contempt, allowing their own front ranks to break as they attempted to chase down the annoying skirmishers. The archers and spearmen quickly pulled back behind the now stationary shield wall and-once the enemy was within bow range-began to fire at will. Several hundred disorganized enemy light cavalry ran into the shield wall; many of them were impaled on spears or shot out of their saddles by arrows. When an enemy fell, a skirmisher would rush from behind the shields and dispatch him with a quick sword thrust.

When the enemy cavalry advanced to the shield wall, the surviving skirmishers and light cavalry moved to the wings. Meanwhile the enemy foot soldiers marched forward, setting their long spears and firesticks. The archers continued their steady stream of arrows, with gratifying results as the enemy was forced to close ranks and cease forward movement. Now the Grefftscharrer cavalry was forced to stand and take fire until their own infantry arrived. Meanwhile the archers and spearmen killed hundreds of Grefftscharrers, since only the front ranks of the Grefftscharrer cavalry wore full armor.

The enemy horse parted and a large body of firestick men and others carrying short bows with stocks moved forward. Suddenly, the firesticks crackled and sputtered, and a cloud of smoke with the stink of brimstone filled the air.

A noise like thunder hammered Zarphu's ears! For a moment he thought his horse would buck him off its back. Several of his officers were thrown, but most quickly re-mounted. For a few moments there were holes in the shield wall, and the entire line buckled, until the rear ranks moved up. Only a few men broke ranks and they were cut down by the swords of their comrades. It appeared to Zarphu that most of the firesticks' force was spent on the shields. The flight of arrows fired in answer inflicted many more casualties among the unprotected Grefftscharrer infantry, especially the firestick men who were not wearing steel chest plates.

The firestick men fired several times, but the shield wall held. The enemy's own lines continued to take many more casualties from bow fire and javelins.

Out of the cloud of smoke a large body of enemy horse, mostly armored, rushed forward striking the shield wall. Again the wall held, while the spears points spitted horses that screamed and bucked off their riders. Skirmishers rushed forward with long knives to slash the throats of the fallen horsemen and their mounts. The stalled enemy cavalry milled in front of the shield wall, futilely hacking at it with their swords or firing short firesticks, until their commanders ordered a retreat. When their surviving cavalry were back behind their own lines, the firestick men fired off their firesticks in unison.

One of his chief officers dropped off his saddle, sprouting a red hole just above his left eye. Zarphu cursed and wondered how many more irreplaceable troops he would lose in this battle.

The infantry battle continued, with their arrows inflicting three times as many casualties as the firesticks. The enemy infantry began to bunch up even tighter and the slaughter mounted. The Grefftscharrer foot became bunched together so closely that the enemy cavalry were forced to fight along the wings, where they were sternly rebuffed by the Immortals. Zarphu decided it was time to order forth his own heavy horse.

The horns sounded, and the infantry pulled back into lines. The iron-scaled cavalry moved forward through the infantry, while the shield wall re-formed behind them.

The three maniples of plumbati pushed forward until they were within range of the enemy, then took out their heavy darts, casting them into the massed infantry. The enemy infantry were momentarily paralyzed, then forced together so closely only a few of the firestick men could shoot their weapons. The archers ran forward again, supported by horse-archers and began firing point blank into the massed Grefftscharrer foot. The slaughter was horrific, with many of the enemy's long spearmen casting their weapons aside and trying to break rank-only to find there was nowhere to go. The ground ran with streams of the enemy's blood.

The plumbati pulled out their swords and cut their way through the ranks. Suddenly the entire body of enemy foot broke ranks, trampling those who stood in their way. The heavy spearmen now moved forward, cutting and slicing those left behind by the forward movement of the heavy cavalry. The enemy cavalry, spurred by the sight of their own retreating foot, rode over and through their own ranks to reach the plumbati- and died by the score.

Zarphu nodded and another horn sounded. Both left and right wings of heavy cavalry moved out in a flanking pincers movement to surround the enemy army. He was sorely disappointed when the enemy horns suddenly rang out, and the Grefftscharrer horse turned and retreated, leaving behind several thousand foot soldiers. The enemy horse reformed ranks before the wings could close, but the plumbati struck them hard from the rear.

The Grefftscharrer infantry were now completely surrounded and disordered; the battlefield was littered with their brightly colored corpses. The cavalry reformed to chase the enemy horse, which fled so hurriedly they left behind their wounded.