Jack Whyte - The Sorcer part 2 - Metamorphosis

The last man lowered himself down the edge of the cataract across from us. After he passed from sight, I waited for a count of one hundred before turning my head to where Huw leaned against a tree trunk.

"I think that's all of them. I counted seventy-one. "

Huw grunted. "I must have lost count, then, because I only saw sixty-four. Anyway, you're right, they're all gone now. The first of them must be in the trees at the bottom by this time. We won't see them again until they attach"

"Well then, let's give them something to attack. How long will it take you to reach your men down there?" Fully half of Huw's bowmen had crossed the river bridge much earlier and were now securely hidden in the forest to the north of it.

"Less than a half hour, to get there unseen. There's a ravine on this side, too, just beyond the bow of the hillside there, on the right. It leads almost directly to where I told my men to wait for me. They'll have a rope across the river for me by this time. "

I nodded. "Go, then, and make good time. It will take me half an hour to reach my own people, and half an hour longer to lead them back along the river road towards the bridge.

Once we're across, they'll move to close the bridge at our backs, and that's when your bowmen can hit them. We'll ride on until we reach you and your forward group, and then we'll lead the enemy right back' into your trap. " I stopped, seeing the worried look on his face. "What's wrong?"

"What if they're impatient? They outnumber you. What happens if they attack you, instead of merely letting you ride past?"

"Hmm. " I shrugged my shoulders. "I doubt they will. They're mercenaries. Some might have bows, but most would have to fight us hand to hand, them on foot, us on horseback and unblooded yet. I don't think that is likely. But, if they do, well then, we'll have to hope your bowmen are as accurate as ever and come to our rescue swiftly. " I held up my hand in a farewell salute, then watched him as he nodded and then turned away, making his way along the crest of the hill to where he would enter the ravine for his downhill journey. When he had disappeared, I turned and made my own way to the rear of the crest, where I had left Germanicus haltered safely below the skyline.

The engagement was short and punitive.

I crossed the bridge at the head of my fifty horsemen and no one sought to challenge us. The forest around us, briefly severed by the rushing channel of the narrow, turbulent river, lay silent and seemingly empty of life, though I knew Ironhair's people were there and searched for them diligently as we passed. Nothing stirred in the fastnesses of the woodland beyond the thick fringe of shrubs and saplings lining the narrow road, and I marvelled at the stealth possessed by such men as these surrounding us. Our cavalry were forthright and noisy in their progress, resigned to the impossibility of muffling or disguising the metallic chink of military harness and the creaks and groans of leather saddlery. Ironhair's men and Huw's, on the other hand, moved in stealth, in complete silence. I knew we were being watched by scores of eyes as we passed by, but I took satisfaction in my awareness that the watchers, in turn, were unaware that a full hundred of Huw Strongarm's men lay securely concealed behind them.

Once across the stone arch, moving in columns of four, we pressed straight ahead, riding at an easy lope and following the road as it swept northward to our right, so that we were soon out of sight of anyone on the bridge and riding between the dense banks of close packed trees that fringed the roadway on both sides. Less than a mile now lay between us and the site of the ambush. As we approached the end of that stretch, I signalled to the men behind me and slowed down to a walk just before we reached the limits of the wood that screened us from the valley ahead. I saw a stirring in the greenery ahead and to my right, and Huw Strongarm stepped forward to the edge of the road. He carried his strung longbow in his left hand, and as I reined in he spoke up.

"No trouble back there?"

"No, not a sign of anything. Are your men ready?"

"Aye, all in place. We'll be in range of you, concealed by just the front bushes. As soon as they attack, have your men fall back this way, along the road. As soon as they've passed by, we'll step out and give your harriers a welcome they'll not be expecting."

"Fine, Huw. There will be an appearance of panic and disarray among us as we break up. Every man knows his own part. We will scatter at first and look disorganized. Some will not come back your way at all, but we'll all stay well clear of your arrows. Warn your men that when they hear my trumpeter they should beware, for we'll be coming back together to finish up the action. My men need some blooding, too. Then, when the opposition has been silenced here, we'll turn around and head back to the bridge. Your other hundred should be in place behind Ironhair's infiltrators by then, to make short work of diem. " I checked my men, who were sitting quietly, their eyes on me. "Very well, then, let's be about it. " I raised my arm in a pumping gesture and led my men forward again.

We advanced in good order, proceeding at the canter as we entered the open, grass strewn convergence of the valleys ahead of us, giving no indication to watching eyes that we expected trouble. Directly ahead of us, appearing to block our route at this point, was the flat topped hill described to us by Huw, its upper slopes and featureless top appearing empty and deserted. We bore gradually to our right, heading for the valley to the east. I passed the word back to spread out slightly, allowing our appearance to suggest a casual disregard for danger, and kept pressing steadily forward. I could feel the tension building in my chest as we passed beyond the point of the projecting hill, so that we now had threatening slopes dominating all of our left flank.

Suddenly, the first hostiles appeared on the slopes above and beyond us. They were premature, undone by their own lack of discipline. Their appearance would have given us sufficient advance notice of attack for us to have reformed and escaped the trap, had we, in fact, been unaware of the ambush. As it was, their enthusiasm caused difficulties for me, because I then had to appear to miss my opportunity for flight. I swung my horse around and saw that my men were as aware as I of the enemy's error and were swerving and cavorting madly, giving a convincing show of panic and indecisiveness.

Above us on the hilltop, whoever was in charge could see what had happened, and soon the upper slopes were aswarm with running men, leaping and bounding down towards us, the strident ululations of their battle cries shattering the quiet of the summer afternoon. Paul Scorvo, one of my best independent squadron leaders, now broke away to the rear as planned, trailing a formless squad of eight behind him as he angled his horse slightly uphill, across the front of the attackers, drawing them down and to the right to converge with his escape route. Rufus Metellus, another of the young firebrands Ambrose had promoted to squadron leader, was galloping off now to the north, leading a motley herd of sixteen more troopers down and away from the exposed slopes, to the right of the road, and making sufficient speed already to outdistance any pursuit. I put my spurs to Germanicus and aimed him back along the road we had come by, shouting as I plunged right through the middle of my own troops, who surged together in a rabble at my back and kicked their mounts into a flat out run following my panicked example. The battle screams above our heads changed now to howls of exultation as our attackers saw us disintegrate and flee, most of us back towards the other trap that now lay set for us.

I stood upright in my stirrups, balancing easily now that Germanicus had found his stride, and turned to look over my shoulder, sweeping my eyes along the crest of the hill. The entire complement of our attackers were now in full pursuit. The bulk of them were rushing in pursuit of my own party, while a small number on either flank went bounding after the two lesser groups led by Scorvo and Metellus. I saw a flicker from the corner of my eye as an arrow skimmed down towards us, and then I saw the bowman, poised on the hillside. The brief glimpse I had was sufficient for me to see that his bow was short, the standard bow in use by all save the Pendragon. And then I heard a crash and a double scream behind me as a horse went down into ruin. I swung Germanicus hard to the left, reining him in brutally as I sought to see what had happened.