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commander will detail half his hundreds to go in, the other half to remain in
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reserve in case they attempt a breakout.''
"Wouldn't it be simpler to send in half the regiments?" asked an Amsi chief.
"This way all the regiments will suffer equally," Hael said grimly. "It will
be hard fighting in there, much of it hand-to-hand. We won't have it easy this
time."
Kairn's heart thudded as he took his place with his squad. His hundred was one
of those chosen to go into the woods. It would be a new sort of fighting for
them, no long-distance archery. It would be better done by infantry, but no
plains warrior would ever fight dismounted unless forced to. They loosened
their swords and readied their seldom-used shields of hardened hide.
The long lines of riders extended along the treeline as far as the eye could
see. They were ranked three lines deep, to keep the enemy from breaking
through easily. Kairn was in the first line. The horns blew along the front,
and the first line entered the forest at a walk. After they had proceeded
fifty paces, the second went in, then the third. Tensely, the reserve force
waited.
Arrow poised on string, Kairn looked up and down the slowly moving line,
trying to spot Ansa. They were in different squads. Then he forced himself to
keep his attention ahead of him. Let Ansa look after himself. The enemy was in
front. All was silent in the forest, even the little creatures huddling
quietly at this unwonted invasion. He heard the
272 John Maddox Roberts
snapping of twigs and the rustling of leaves between hoofs, the gentle
snorting and groaning of the cabos. He could see nothing ahead of him but
trees and bushes.
Then the air split with high-pitched shrieking and the forest was alive with
wild men. Twenty feet ahead of him, a bald man, with a great purple star
painted across his face stood behind a bush, Iris arm drawn back to hurl a
javelin. Kairn was not really aware of aiming, drawing and loosing, but before
the man's arm completed half its arc Kairn's arrow struck his chest. At such
close range, it passed on through and shattered against a tree behind the man.
They were everywhere, leaping up, hurling missiles, thrusting with spears,
snatching at bridles. Kairn shot at two more but was unaware whether he had
struck any, so many arrows were flying everywhere among the javelins, throwing
sticks and flung stones. There were screams of fury and of pain, and the
bawling of wounded cabos.
The enemy surged forward in loose battle lines, only their tall black shields
giving them uniformity. In this forest there was no scope for the complex
formation maneuvers that Gasam had used to such great success. Here it was
strength, skill and ferocity, with the emphasis on the latter.
After the third shot, Kairn jammed his bow into its case and snatched up his
spear, swinging his shield around from his back by its shoulder strap. A
black-haired man came for him with a spear as he scrambled to secure the
hand-grip of his shield. He got the shield around just in time to block the
enemy's spear-point, simultaneously sending his own into the man's lower
belly. Screaming, the man fell off the point. It was a nasty wound, and the
man would take hours to die if someone didn't finish him off. Just then, Kairn
was not in a merciful mood. He had his hands full just staying alive.
An island warrior ran across his front to attack a hard-pressed comrade on
Kairn's right. Kairn leaned forward and ran the man through the back. This was
neither the time nor the place for niceties. Another came at him, screaming.
Kairn thrust his spear through the man's chest just as the other's hurled axe
crashed into his shield. It bounced away, but the
THE STEEL KINGS 273
spear-point hung up in the man's ribs and the weapon was dragged from his
grasp. Releasing it, Kairn drew his longsword.
Now the second line had caught up. They plugged the holes left by fallen men
and reinforced the battleline. An enemy tried to grasp Kairn's reins and Kairn
slashed the man's hand off. It remained where it had been, gripping the
bridle. With their line strengthened, the plainsmen began pushing forward,
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using the bulk of their mounts to shove the enemy back, darting their lances
over the wall of shields, hacking with longswords. The islanders and others
snarled, screamed and died. Some climbed trees to leap upon the riders from
above.
The crowd of horses became so close that the riders got in each other's way.
Kairn decided that he had occupied the front long enough and someone else
could have his place for a while. Carefully, he backed his cabo to the rear
and paused, gasping for breath. The fighting front was no more than twenty
feet from him, but by comparison this seemed like a calm place.
Abruptly, something dropped upon him, screaming and snarling. It had foul
breath and enough weight to tumble him from his saddle. A knife lanced over
his shoulder, but its tip caught the edge of his shield and it just missed his
neck. He struck backward with his elbows and his sword pommel, but weakly. The
fall had knocked the wind from him and his vision was wavering.
Then the weight was lifted from him. Kairn sprawled to see a rider holding the
brown inland man upright, one forearm hooked under the shaven chin while the
other hand drew a knife across the exposed throat. Ansa dropped the kicking,
dying man, leaned from the saddle, and hauled Kairn to his feet.
"You need to be careful, little brother," Ansa said, grinning.
Kairn found that he could breathe again. "I was doing pretty well until that
one dropped from the clouds."
"I know. I saw you. Don't try to kill their whole army all
274 John Maddox Roberts
by yourself." Ansa rode a few yards and came back leading Kairn's cabo. Kairn
found a dropped lance and sheathed his sword. With the lance in his hand, he
remounted.
"That's enough resting," Ansa said. "Let's get back into the fight."
The skirmishing in lines went on for a long time, the enemy grimly tenacious,
falling back a step at a time, making the riders pay for every yard they
gained. Impatient, groups of riders would band together to hurl their combined
weight against the lines of black shields. At first, these abortive charges
were repulsed bloodily, but in time they began to break through, cutting the
enemy into ever-smaller clumps. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]