Lynn Flewelling - The Oracle's Queen

“Look, they’re already breaking!” Alben whooped as Tobin’s smaller force immediately pulled back.

But the ranks didn’t break and run, they only fell back to expose a bristling hedge of angled stakes that the charging riders saw too late. Meanwhile, another thick volley of arrows rose from the rear, falling with deadly certainty among the charging riders. Men were knocked from the saddle or went down with their horses. Others in the forward ranks, unable to halt in time, were thrown as their mounts impaled themselves on the stakes, or reared and bolted. Others foundered inexplicably or fell over the downed ones and were trampled by those still charging.

The charge held, even so, and clashed against Tobin’s front line. The center bowed and Korin had a moment’s hope as Tobin’s standard veered wildly. But her line held and surged forward again, catching Korin’s cavalry between the press of his own men-at-arms as their line caught up. Boxed in between the forest, cliffs, and Tobin’s strong line, his own fighters were packed tight as a cork in a bottle. Another volley of arrows rose from Tobin’s rear ranks, arching over Tobin’s line to rain death among Korin’s stymied forces.

Just as Tamír had hoped, Korin’s advance force was crowded together as they charged, and their headlong rush made it impossible for the frontmost to avoid the stakes, mud, and holes they’d prepared to catch them. As the Aurënfaie archers loosed their second volley, the carnage increased and the air was filled with the screams of wounded horses and the cries of their riders. It did not stop the charge, only slowed it a little and created confusion.

“Defend the queen!” Ki yelled, and the Companions closed in around her as enemy riders came on.

Her archers dropped their bows and fought with swords or the mallets they’d used to drive the stakes. The blocks of men-at-arms surged forward, unseating riders with their pole arms or pulling them from the saddle to be dispatched with swords and clubs. Already at a disadvantage, Korin’s own charging line of foot caught his riders even tighter.

“For Skala!” Tamír cried, rushing into the fray.

There was no question of holding back. Ki kept close to Tamír as he met the enemy with drawn sword.

It was like hacking at a wall of flesh, and for a while it seemed they were going to be driven back. The clamor of battle was deafening.

Tamír stood fast, yelling encouragement and urging them all forward as she laid about with her sword. Her blade caught the light with a red gleam. Trapped in the press, her standard-bearer fell, but Hylia caught the pole as it wavered, and held it high.

It seemed to go on forever; but at last the enemy fell back, making a ragged retreat across the stream, leaving hundreds of their own dead or dying on the trampled ground. Aurënfaie arrows followed them, slaughtering the hindmost as they tried to scale the hill again.

Korin cursed aloud as his advance line fell into confusion and retreated. Tobin’s banner still held fast, and he was certain he could see Tobin still boldly at the fore.

“Damn him!” he snarled, furious. “Porion, have the charge sounded again. And this time I will lead! We’ll strike them before they can regroup. Wethring, I want a flanking force sent through the forest to engage the rear lines.”

“Majesty, at least wait until the others have come back,” Porion urged quietly. “Otherwise, you’ll be riding down your own men!”

Gritting his teeth, Korin lowered his sword, aware of the many eyes upon him. As he waited, the fear came back, gnawing at him as he surveyed the dead littering the field.

No, I won’t fail this time , he swore silently. By the Sword of Ghërilain and my father’s name, I will act as a king today!

He glanced sidelong at Caliel, who sat on his horse so calmly beside him, watching the field with impassive eyes.

Korin drew strength from his friend’s presence. I will not shame myself before you .

As soon as Korin’s first wave retreated Tamír sent people out to collect the wounded and carry them back behind their lines. By her order, enemy wounded were to be treated with the same courtesy rather than being dispatched on the field, unless they appeared to be mortally wounded.

She remained in position, already bloody and winded. The Companions were equally bloody, but it was all the enemy’s so far rather than their own.

Nikides gave her a wry grin as he wiped his face on the sleeve of his tabard and only succeeded in making both bloodier. Gone was the soft, shy boy he’d been. After days of hard marching and rough living, he was as unshaven and dirty as any of the others, and looked proud of himself.

“You don’t need to find yourself an new chronicler just yet,” he observed, chuckling.

“See that I don’t.” She was more concerned with Lutha and Barieus. They were both pale under their helms.

“Don’t worry about us,” Lutha told her. “We mean to get our own back on Korin today.”

The mist had burned off, and the rain was clearing. The sun stood at noon. Ki handed her a waterskin and she drank deeply as she stood watching Korin consult with his nobles. Just then there was a stir among the soldiers behind her. Arengil pushed through, his arms filled with cheese and sausages.

“Our baggage train caught up at last,” he told her, handing her a sausage. “Hiril took the liberty of having food distributed after he learned how hungry you’ve been.”

Tamír bit into the sausage with a grateful groan. It was tough and spicy. Her mouth watered so hard it hurt.

“Now I’m even more glad you showed up!” Ki exclaimed around a mouthful of cheese. “I was afraid we’d be eating horse meat tonight. I don’t suppose you brought any wine?”

“That, too.” Arengil pulled a clay flask from his belt and handed it to him. Ki took a pull and passed it to Tamír.

She took a sip and handed it on to Lynx. “Bilairy’s balls, that’s good!”

All around them her people were laughing and cheering as the provisions were passed through the ranks.

Their respite was a short one. Trumpets sounded from Korin’s side of the field and she saw that he was massing for another charge.

Tamír and the Companions sent for horses and she called up what cavalry she had, placing them at the center and setting deep ranks of archers to either side of them.

Korin was no fool. Having been caught on the quills of her hedgehog once already, he angled his new assault against their right flank, skirting the forest to come at them from the side. Reaching the stream, some of the horses foundered in the soft ground and holes, as Tamír had hoped, but not enough to make a difference.

“Kyman isn’t turning!” Ki shouted, looking back to see the old general’s line advancing parallel to the cliffs.

Korin’s line was bowing. Those riders closest to the forest’s edge had rougher ground and did not come on as fast as the outer end of the line. Kyman was making for the laggards, putting himself in danger of being pushed back to the cliff.

Tamír marked Korin’s standard as he rode down the hill and led her cavalry to engage him. As the two forces closed she spotted him, mounted and closely surrounded by his guard. Caliel and Alben were still with him, and someone else wearing the baldric of a King’s Companion.

“That’s Moriel!” Lutha shouted.

“So he got his wish as last,” said Ki. “Let’s see how he likes the duty.”

“Please, Tamír, leave the Toad to me if we get close enough,” Lutha asked. “I have a score to settle.”

“If it’s Sakor’s will, he’s yours,” Tamír replied.

Ki had to kick his horse hard to keep up with Tamír as she charged. On foot it had been easy to stay with her. This time Korin was leading the charge and Tamír was bent on reaching him. As usual, it was up to Ki and the rest of the Companions to keep up as the battle lust took her. Lynx was riding on her left with Una. Nikides and Lutha were on Ki’s side, grinning grimly under their steel helmets.