Richard Parker - Elsewhere

Captain Marcum was near the centerline, surrounded by Massi infantry soldiers, and was soon so embroiled in the hand to hand fighting that he was unaware of anything but his immediate surroundings. The battle quickly fell into chaos and his total being was swallowed up in the fighting. He attacked, parried and fought with the enemy closest to him with no thought for anything else. He killed one, two…and then three men and silently praised Gwaynn and his heavy training weapons. Marcum knew he was getting old and that his speed was slowly seeping away, but thanks to Gwaynn’s training, he actually believed his strength was growing. His strength, when coupled with his vast experience, made him a deadly opponent, a fact that the Deutzani soldiers around him were quickly learning.

But the Deutzani now heavily outnumber the remaining Massi and the Captain was suddenly facing a pair of enemy soldiers. The two men pitted against him fought aggressively and were utterly intent on killing him quickly but their movements were sluggish and he could tell that they were tiring, and that surprised him. Marcum fought back with a vengeance and held off their uncoordinated first assault.

‘How long have I been fighting?’ He wondered, but had no definitive answer. He was growing weary, but was far from exhausted.

The soldier on the right lunged but it was an obvious feint. Marcum pretended to react to the move and then thrust out quickly with his left kali and sliced through the midsection of the man on the left as he foolishly moved in for the easy kill. Marcum pulled and twisted his weapon free and the man fell to the ground with a howl. Once unencumbered, Marcum spun to face the remaining soldier. The man was large, grim-faced and dirty, and he circled the Massi Captain warily. Marcum was thankful for the time to rest as the man vied for position. He risked a quick look around and his heart fell. The Plateau was flooded with Deutzani, and the ranks of the Massi were critically thin. Off to his right, Marcum saw Sergeant Birdsong fall to a group of three Deutzani soldiers, but then he had to quickly backpedal from the man before him. The large man pressed his attack, hoping to capitalize on the Captain’s divided attention.

But Marcum flipped his wrist and turned the man’s blade harmlessly away. He countered but his own movements were slowing and his attack was also knocked aside.

“You’ve fought well, but the Massi are finished,” the Deutzani said breathing heavily. Marcum made no reply and attacked again as another Deutzani soldier began moving his way. Marcum continued to fight but he knew that his life would undoubtedly be over in a matter of moments.

He slashed through the forearm of the soldier who spoke, just as another; younger and taller Deutzani pressed in and began attacking ferociously. Marcum held off the assault, barely, just as another soldier waded in. Now there were three against him though one was fighting with a single arm. They all attacked in unison and Marcum backpedaling quickly away. His arms were slowly giving out and he knew he could not long hold off the flashing blades flying at him.

‘We’ve lost the Plateau,’ he thought again, resigned to defeat, but then an arrow suddenly appeared in the tall man’s chest. Surprised, the three men facing the Captain all came to a sudden stop though clearly only one was wounded. Marcum wasted no time and rushed forward. He stabbed the wounded man through the neck, spun and hacked off another’s right arm at the elbow. The man fell to his knees screaming and the final man backed away. Marcum removed the head of the screaming enemy and was just turning on the lone survivor when the enemy took a halberd through the back. Darby, a Massi archer even older than Marcum, just grinned and then spit.

“We can’t hold,” Marcum said his voice thick with despair.

Darby frowned. “We can,” he answered as a half a dozen Massi halberdiers and eight archers rushed over to their position. Without waiting for orders, the archers launched several volleys at the closest enemy and for the first time since the battle began Marcum realized the Deutzani were retreating back down the Scar.

“Gaston!” he said ecstatically.

“No sir,” Darby answered. “I was near the cliff’s edge…it’s a large group of Massi, but they’re on foot, and can’t rightly be called an army, though last I saw they were moving in on the Deutzani.

“On foot?” Marcum answered. Darby just nodded and then they all moved to engage another small group of Deutzani soldiers. They were pushed back for a moment, but then another group of Massi led by Birdsong joined the mêlée, giving them overwhelming numbers in the local fight.

“I saw you go down,” Marcum stated once the small skirmish came to an end. More and more Deutzani were fleeing the vicinity and retreating down the Scar and for the moment their area was relatively clear of threats.

Birdsong smiled. “Strong guts,” he answered and turned to show Marcum a large bloody spot in the left side of his leather jerkin. “I’m not dead yet.”

The group forced their way to the edge of the Scar perhaps three hundred feet east of the trail which led to the plains below. Now there were only about two hundred Deutzani on the Plateau and the number was falling rapidly either through retreat or death. Marcum smiled in relief and looked down at the smoldering town below. The Deutzani army was being attacked by a large group of Massi civilians. The Massi attacked like a mob, no tactics and with a wide variety of weapons. Marcum spotted everything from swords to farm implements, but rabble or no, they clearly outnumbered the Deutzani and were pressing them back toward the river. Marcum was glad for the reprieve, but once the Deutzani got over their initial surprise they would make short, bloody work of the Massi mob, no matter their numbers. But then suddenly to the west Marcum saw Captain Gaston and the Massi Cavalry burst from a tree line. The cavalry quickly formed lines and made their lances ready. They charged, and as they crashed into the Deutzani rear a great cheer erupted around him. Marcum shifted his gaze back to the Plateau…it was again in Massi hands. There were only a few dozen Deutzani left and they were falling rapidly.

Marcum screamed his pleasure with the rest of his men and watched as the Deutzani panicked and their lines began to disintegrate. Blood lust began to spread across the Plateau and a group of pike men began to rush down the trail to join the fight on the plains below. Nearly fifty were on their way before Marcum could put a stop to the foolishness.

“We hold the Plateau,” he said loudly to all those around him, though he too was fighting the desire to go and join in the carnage. The battle lasted only a half an hour longer and when it was over Marcum could not see as single Deutzani soldier standing.

“Bloody bastards,” he said and felt not a hint of remorse.

ǂ

General Lonogan Bock stood among his army of twenty-three thousand men and women and watched the Palmerrio cavalry ride off to the south in an obvious flanking maneuver. Bock glanced back but Kommidi and his own horsemen were already moving off to shadow the Palmerrio force. In the days before the enemy appeared at the mouth of the pass, Gwaynn, na Gall and Monde took turns projecting and reporting on the Palmerrio movements and troop numbers. It was because of their reconnaissance Bock knew that the total Palmerrio cavalry numbered over three thousand. This was twice the number of Kommidi’s force. The disparity worried Bock, but the young Captain had strict instructions not to attack the Palmerrio horsemen. His only job was to distract the enemy cavalry and keep them off the army long enough for Gwaynn and his group of attack troops to capture or kill the Palmerrio King.