Read Online Dark Crusade by Karl Edward Wagner - Free Book Online
Authors: Karl Edward Wagner
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of this limitless savannah, they were horsemen almost from birth.
The Sataki horsemen were mounted on such horse as had fallen to them in the conquest of Shapeli, armed and armored with whatever spoils came to hand. While outnumbering the four Sandotneri regiments, they galloped to meet them with somewhat less precision than a stampede.
Maneuvering swiftly, the Sandotneri archers closed from either flank. They were two darker masses in the distance, as in place of drawn sabres they wielded the short composite cavalry bows of the southern kingdoms--heavy weapons whose iron-barbed shafts could penetrate mail. Clad alike in hauberks, the archers also carried sabres in saddle scabbards, and could act once the supply of arrows was exhausted.
Watching from his vantage, Jarvo waited with his five regiments of heavy cavalry as his center, the remaining regiments of light horse drawn up on either wing. He studied the imminent contact with heart-stopping intensity--unwilling to commit further men until he felt certain of the enemy.
Across the sea of grass, the Sandotneri horse slashed through the Sataki riders as a scythe reaps ripe wheat. Sabres flashed beneath the rising sun; riderless horses plunged away in flight. The amber grassland stirred beneath a rising mist of yellow dust; the tall stalks were crushed and trampled, drenched in sodden blotches of scarlet.
The Sataki horsemen were no match for the veteran troopers of Sandotneri. Unskilled both in horsemanship and in the use of weapons from horseback, they might have fared better on foot. In a slashing tumult, the Sandotneri rode through them--sabres emptying saddles with sudden finality. The skirmish--it could hardly be termed a battle--held for only a few minutes of swirling carnage. Then the survivors broke away, attempted to turn back for the main body of the Prophet's army.
A number of the horses did return to the Sataki line.
Now, cutting across the Satakis' flanks, the mounted archers strafed the discomfited front ranks with devastating effect. The short composite bows--laminated horn and dense wood and sinew--drilled their iron-headed shafts through plundered mail and improvised shields. In the packed masses of humanity, every bolt found its fatal target.
Return fire--badly aimed arrows arid hurled spears--took negligible casualties amongst the streaking archers. Officers yelled in vain for their men to hold their spears to await the impending charge; in a panic, the Satakis threw away the best defensive weapon they could claim.
Demoralized by the slaughter of their own mounted force, raked by the deadly fire of the Sandotneri archers--the Sataki line reeled back in disorder. The yet advancing masses behind them checked their retreat--bringing the advance to a milling halt as van and center entangled.
From his saddle, Jarvo grinned crookedly beneath his demon-mask vizor. There would be no cunning artifices from the Satakis today. The numberless horde stumbled in helpless fright from stings and scratches; it was time now to begin the killing.
"Lancers! Forward, ho!"
A thunderous shout answered Jarvo's command--folIowed by the deafening clangour as six thousand armored warriors couched their steel-headed lances. Battle horns quickly relayed the command. Jarvo was holding nothing in reserve now. Once in motion, their charge would follow the battle plan previously agreed upon.
A monstrous metallic avalanche, the charge of heavy cavalry rumbled across the trampled veldt. The pounding hooves of their great warhorses gouged a dusty swath through the dry sod. Steel plate armor--burnished, silverchased, etched and blued--threw back six thousand scintillant reflections of destruction to the climbing sun, and the smooth steel heads of their lances glinted like stars of a tropic night. Lance and heavy shield for each man, and stung from saddle or scabbard--broadsword, ax, or mace, to deal with those who withstood their dread charge.
Five regiments of armored,
The Sataki horsemen were mounted on such horse as had fallen to them in the conquest of Shapeli, armed and armored with whatever spoils came to hand. While outnumbering the four Sandotneri regiments, they galloped to meet them with somewhat less precision than a stampede.
Maneuvering swiftly, the Sandotneri archers closed from either flank. They were two darker masses in the distance, as in place of drawn sabres they wielded the short composite cavalry bows of the southern kingdoms--heavy weapons whose iron-barbed shafts could penetrate mail. Clad alike in hauberks, the archers also carried sabres in saddle scabbards, and could act once the supply of arrows was exhausted.
Watching from his vantage, Jarvo waited with his five regiments of heavy cavalry as his center, the remaining regiments of light horse drawn up on either wing. He studied the imminent contact with heart-stopping intensity--unwilling to commit further men until he felt certain of the enemy.
Across the sea of grass, the Sandotneri horse slashed through the Sataki riders as a scythe reaps ripe wheat. Sabres flashed beneath the rising sun; riderless horses plunged away in flight. The amber grassland stirred beneath a rising mist of yellow dust; the tall stalks were crushed and trampled, drenched in sodden blotches of scarlet.
The Sataki horsemen were no match for the veteran troopers of Sandotneri. Unskilled both in horsemanship and in the use of weapons from horseback, they might have fared better on foot. In a slashing tumult, the Sandotneri rode through them--sabres emptying saddles with sudden finality. The skirmish--it could hardly be termed a battle--held for only a few minutes of swirling carnage. Then the survivors broke away, attempted to turn back for the main body of the Prophet's army.
A number of the horses did return to the Sataki line.
Now, cutting across the Satakis' flanks, the mounted archers strafed the discomfited front ranks with devastating effect. The short composite bows--laminated horn and dense wood and sinew--drilled their iron-headed shafts through plundered mail and improvised shields. In the packed masses of humanity, every bolt found its fatal target.
Return fire--badly aimed arrows arid hurled spears--took negligible casualties amongst the streaking archers. Officers yelled in vain for their men to hold their spears to await the impending charge; in a panic, the Satakis threw away the best defensive weapon they could claim.
Demoralized by the slaughter of their own mounted force, raked by the deadly fire of the Sandotneri archers--the Sataki line reeled back in disorder. The yet advancing masses behind them checked their retreat--bringing the advance to a milling halt as van and center entangled.
From his saddle, Jarvo grinned crookedly beneath his demon-mask vizor. There would be no cunning artifices from the Satakis today. The numberless horde stumbled in helpless fright from stings and scratches; it was time now to begin the killing.
"Lancers! Forward, ho!"
A thunderous shout answered Jarvo's command--folIowed by the deafening clangour as six thousand armored warriors couched their steel-headed lances. Battle horns quickly relayed the command. Jarvo was holding nothing in reserve now. Once in motion, their charge would follow the battle plan previously agreed upon.
A monstrous metallic avalanche, the charge of heavy cavalry rumbled across the trampled veldt. The pounding hooves of their great warhorses gouged a dusty swath through the dry sod. Steel plate armor--burnished, silverchased, etched and blued--threw back six thousand scintillant reflections of destruction to the climbing sun, and the smooth steel heads of their lances glinted like stars of a tropic night. Lance and heavy shield for each man, and stung from saddle or scabbard--broadsword, ax, or mace, to deal with those who withstood their dread charge.
Five regiments of armored,
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