been able to take advantage of the confusion, but that would have meant breaking the shield wall and stepping over the barricades, and giving up defensive surety for a momentary opportunity was not worth the cost. He called out, and the second, and last, round of spheres was brought to hand. There would be nothing but the sword after this. If the Lianese were wise and started to bombard the Veryans with arrows, Rhyfelwyr would have to strike over the barricades, into a waiting force. He could only hope that the battle was going well enough elsewhere, so that these Lianese forces did not have the time for a leisurely battle.
The second charge came, and it was repulsed in the same way as the first, glass spheres breaking the momentum at point-blank range. Spheres rarely killed, but the clouds of abrasive glass would injure many an eye, and the spray of sharpened waste would make the ground a spike-ridden mess. In the brief pause as the Lianese forces gathered for a third assault, the sergeant spoke with his squad, pulling them from the lines.
“We’ve lost three of the twenty men we started with, and three more are like Locsyn. They’re going to throw a third round of javelins, and we’ve already tightened the wall once. Do we charge?”
Taflen looked up, examining the Lianese forces for a long moment before shaking his head. “We stay, we’ll take more of them with us that way.”
Gwyth grunted. “Uplifting.”
Nervously twirling the end of his moustache, Locsyn shook his head. “Rhocas, can you get us out of this?”
The young mage sighed. “I’ve been training as a mage for only a few days, I can barely manage focusing fire when I want it. I can’t do one of the giant balls of flame. I’m sorry.”
Rhy patted the young man on the back. “Nothing to be sorry about, you signed on as a soldier and you do a soldier’s job. We stand.” Rhy turned back to his post in the centre of the barricade, and only Taflen heard him mutter “I hope Llof comes up with something”.
The third trumpet called, and Gwyth readied himself, his shield held high to catch the incoming javelins. His arm ached and a slow trickle of blood flowed from where the arrow had pierced it, but he ignored the pain, and caught the first Lianese soldier over the wall on his shield, slamming it into his foe as the man jumped from the barricades. An axe blow around the side cut through ribs, and Gwyth dumped him off, shield reset to deal with the next foe.
Taflen steadied himself, one foot on the barrier, and as the first of his foes tried to scramble across, he caught the fool with a hard strike to the helmet, cleaving the protection and leaving his enemy writhing. Two more Lianese followed, pushing Taflen back as he fought to keep his shield in front of one and strike at the other. The split attention meant neither succeeded, and a thrust at his ribs was only stopped by the quick attention of the Veryan soldier to Taflen’s left. That assistance allowed the historian to strike hard at the legs of the foe to his right, and the sword carved through the shin until it lodged midway into the bone, yanked from his hand as the Lianese soldier fell. With nothing but his shield left, Taflen put his right hand behind the boss and slammed it into the face of his second foe, knocking him backwards. The strike was too late for Taflen’s ally, for in stopping the thrust at Taflen he had left himself open, and a countering blow had him dying in the dirt. In the brief moment of freedom, Taflen grabbed the sword from his fallen comrade’s hand, stepping backwards and readying himself for the next soldier to come.
The shield wall contracted further, with only ten of the original twenty still standing, of whom five came from Rhyfelwyr’s squad. He was proud of them, that they would stand against the odds, but some twenty five Lianese soldiers remained, and that left the sergeant sore at heart. He could see Rhocas calling on his magic, and brief sputters of
The second charge came, and it was repulsed in the same way as the first, glass spheres breaking the momentum at point-blank range. Spheres rarely killed, but the clouds of abrasive glass would injure many an eye, and the spray of sharpened waste would make the ground a spike-ridden mess. In the brief pause as the Lianese forces gathered for a third assault, the sergeant spoke with his squad, pulling them from the lines.
“We’ve lost three of the twenty men we started with, and three more are like Locsyn. They’re going to throw a third round of javelins, and we’ve already tightened the wall once. Do we charge?”
Taflen looked up, examining the Lianese forces for a long moment before shaking his head. “We stay, we’ll take more of them with us that way.”
Gwyth grunted. “Uplifting.”
Nervously twirling the end of his moustache, Locsyn shook his head. “Rhocas, can you get us out of this?”
The young mage sighed. “I’ve been training as a mage for only a few days, I can barely manage focusing fire when I want it. I can’t do one of the giant balls of flame. I’m sorry.”
Rhy patted the young man on the back. “Nothing to be sorry about, you signed on as a soldier and you do a soldier’s job. We stand.” Rhy turned back to his post in the centre of the barricade, and only Taflen heard him mutter “I hope Llof comes up with something”.
The third trumpet called, and Gwyth readied himself, his shield held high to catch the incoming javelins. His arm ached and a slow trickle of blood flowed from where the arrow had pierced it, but he ignored the pain, and caught the first Lianese soldier over the wall on his shield, slamming it into his foe as the man jumped from the barricades. An axe blow around the side cut through ribs, and Gwyth dumped him off, shield reset to deal with the next foe.
Taflen steadied himself, one foot on the barrier, and as the first of his foes tried to scramble across, he caught the fool with a hard strike to the helmet, cleaving the protection and leaving his enemy writhing. Two more Lianese followed, pushing Taflen back as he fought to keep his shield in front of one and strike at the other. The split attention meant neither succeeded, and a thrust at his ribs was only stopped by the quick attention of the Veryan soldier to Taflen’s left. That assistance allowed the historian to strike hard at the legs of the foe to his right, and the sword carved through the shin until it lodged midway into the bone, yanked from his hand as the Lianese soldier fell. With nothing but his shield left, Taflen put his right hand behind the boss and slammed it into the face of his second foe, knocking him backwards. The strike was too late for Taflen’s ally, for in stopping the thrust at Taflen he had left himself open, and a countering blow had him dying in the dirt. In the brief moment of freedom, Taflen grabbed the sword from his fallen comrade’s hand, stepping backwards and readying himself for the next soldier to come.
The shield wall contracted further, with only ten of the original twenty still standing, of whom five came from Rhyfelwyr’s squad. He was proud of them, that they would stand against the odds, but some twenty five Lianese soldiers remained, and that left the sergeant sore at heart. He could see Rhocas calling on his magic, and brief sputters of
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