Robert Hughes - The Prophet of Lamath

Though they could not use Tohn’s castle as a fortress, Dorlyth had decided to use it in a ruse to draw Talith into an initial charge. As the old warrior explained his strategy, Pahd just nodded. Strategy made little difference to Pahd, so long as he had an opportunity to exercise his greatsword.

“We’ll all have that opportunity, my Lord,” Dorlyth said. “More, I’ll wage, than even you might wish.”

“I doubt that’s possible.” Pahd smiled, drawing his weapon. “What is the signal for our attack?”

“When Talith charges westward toward the three thousand on the plain and you hear screams from the pass as our archers move into position, then charge, Pahd mod Pahd-el. And may the powers favor you with great strength!”

“I’d prefer that the powers favor me with great foes,” Pahd chuckled. “I’ll furnish the strength myself.” Pahd rode down the mountain to rejoin his cavalry, which was hidden in the forest at its base.

Dorlyth gazed across the pass to the mountains on the northern side and searched the woods atop those cliffs for some sign of Venad mod Narkis and his army of archers. He saw no movement at all—nothing that would betray to Talith that his grand column marched into an ambush.

With Pahd’s indifferent blessing, Dorlyth had divided the army of assembled Mari chieftains into three units. The smallest force was composed of Dorlyth’s own veteran fighting men, supported by the most powerful warriors from every other fief in the land. This group, only three thousand strong, waited on the plain between Tohn’s castle and the pass. The other sixteen thousand Mari warriors had been divided equally, half waiting in the foothills on the northern edge of the pass and the other half waiting in the southern hills. Dorlyth had assembled a group of powerful archers out of each of these divisions, and the two units of archers faced each other across the valley. Each archer carried a plentiful supply of arrows; if the confederation of Mari lords were to win, it would have to win in the pass. Battle hardened though they were, Dorlyth knew his Mari brethren would never defeat twice as many Chaons in a direct confrontation on the field. He hoped to deplete and demoralize Talith’s army before it ever reached the plain.

Dorlyth glanced around at the men who waited with him in the shelter of a small clump of trees. “Remember—our task is to fill the air with a shower of arrows, not to shoot individual Chaons. Fire quickly—the powers will make our bow-shots accurate.” From the pass below came the echo of a great shout, and Dorlyth walked out to the edge of the cliffs to take a look. He turned and nodded, shouting, “Talith has taken the bait!” Hundreds of archers sprang from cover and launched a deadly flock of feather-tipped missiles. An answering volley filled the sky on the far side of the pass, and the first screams of shock and terror began issuing up from the valley. Dorlyth smiled coldly, and arched his own first arrow into the sky. It joined a thousand of its fellows in flight.

Talith and Rolan-Keshi rode through the pass side by side. Talith’s heart pounded furiously. A few moments before, the dragon itself had given him leave to conquer Ngandib-Mar. Now, for the first time, he beheld that beautiful mountainous land, and knew at once that he had to possess it.

“Look at this! Look at it! It shall be mine, Rolan-Keshi—this land shall be mine!”

“We must conquer it first, my Lord.

And it appears there will be some resistance. Look.” They had ridden . far enough through the gap to see the small Mari contingent on the field, and Tohn’s castle beyond them.

“A tiny force, not to be compared to my army!” Talith laughed, his excitement building. His mount began to trot, as did Rolan-Keshi’s, and the riders behind them picked up speed as well.

“Why are they here?” Rolan-Keshi wondered suspiciously. “No one in this land should know of our coming!”

“They are defenders of that fortress yonder!” Talith shouted. “We must take them before they reach its shelter!” Talith kicked his horse and jerked his sword free from its scabbard. He raised it high above him and shouted at the top of his lungs; the answering shout from the warriors charging behind him drowned Rolan-Keshi’s protests. The army of Chaomonous streamed out of the pass, pursuing its King into battle, as the three thousand Maris on the open plain below broke and ran for Tohn’s castle.

Talith rode the proudest mount in all his many stables, and it was a far stronger horse than any of those who followed him. Soon he was twenty yards in advance of the charge, shouting. “They’re running! They’re running!” The General rode hard to catch him. It was a foolish charge, and Rolan-Keshi knew it, but it was certainly far more thrilling than the night raids and border skirmishes that had been his only previous battle experience. But Talith was much too far in advance of the main line of thundering riders. If the King should be the first man cut down, it would have a-brutal impact on the morale of his army. Rolan-Keshi screamed at his horse and drove his heels violently into the animal’s flanks, even as the General saw a few hundred Man warriors wheel around to face them.

Talith saw them too, when he was but thirty yards away. He almost dropped his sword as he jerked back suddenly on the reins of his war-horse. His charging warriors faltered when their King faltered, and the first blows exchanged between Maris and Chaons went badly for the golden warriors. Talith stood where he was, frozen by the cold metal of those drawn greatswords, suddenly so very near, and he surely would have been hacked from his saddle had not his supporters swarmed around him. Little blood was drawn in this initial impact, but the clashing and clanging and shouting that filled the air kept Talith from hearing the screams of falling warriors in the pass. He found the handle of his sword again and waved it in the air, shouting encouragement to the soldiers who fought to defend him. His courage soared once more when he saw the Maris break off the fight and ride on to join the rest of the Man force.

The lead riders of Dorlyth’s field brigade had by this time reached the walls of Tohn’s keep. Watchers on the walls stared openmouthed as these riders parted to either side of the keep, then turned to face the golden charge once again.

Tohn’s children thrilled at the color and glory. His young men ached to fire a few arrows in one direction or the other.

Tohn himself gripped the battlements and stared down at the regrouping Man line, his face fixed in a frozen frown as stony as the rock walls he clung to. The Mari line extended to the right and left of his keep, the far ends bowed to prevent Talith’s force from flanking them. In the shadow of Tohn’s wall they waited for Talith to extend his army farther onto the plain, opening his flanks to mounted Maris on the north and south; It would not be many minutes before Pahd’s attack struck the Chaon’s southern flank.

In the early minutes of the battle, Venad mod Narkis’ archers on the northern face of the .pass proved coldly efficient.

More than two thousand Chaons died or were wounded in the first arrow attacks, but most of these were on the northern side. Dorlyth’s archers were less successful, though they poured as many arrows into the air, and this was to have some bearing on the course of the battle. When the shower of arrows began, most of the Chaon warriors panicked; suddenly the whole column no longer marched out of the pass—it pushed and shoved its way onto the field in terror. Dead horses and riders clogged the pass, and the panic combined with the litter of death to slow the line further. There was nowhere to run but forward, for Dragonsgate itself was still filling with more orderly columns, and there, too, waited the dragon. Men who could see an open plain and safety below them would certainly not run uphill into the presence of that threatening beast. As Dorlyth had hoped, the column continued to come—and the arrows continued falling, taking a shockingly high toll.