Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls (75 page)

Whilst the bravest stood firm and hurled spears or struck out with swords, many soldiers ran in fear from such a terrifying foe. Arrows which found their mark were either quickly dislodged by the
Equin’s
magic protection or found a deadly mark in other soldiers unfortunate enough to be standing in the line of fire.

Commander Leander gave orders in disbelief at what he saw, trying desperately to rally a force with which to oppose these steeds, but nothing could stand before the
Equin
of
Wildwood,
and the death they wrought that day was mighty indeed. Not a single horse was hurt in that thunderous charge except for Thunder who was confronted by one of Zelfos’ evil Shadow Hunters. This fell creature, released by the sorcerer’s command rushed eagerly into the fray and was immediately trampled by the huge stallion in a tangled mess of mighty flailing hooves and falling muscle. The Shadow Hunter was thrown violently to the ground and seemed grievously injured although it scoured huge and bloody welts clear round Thunder’s enourmous neck. But both creatures rose quickly to their feet and had no further contact for Thunder charged further on and the Shadow Hunter slunk off into the shadows of the tangled undergrowth below the
Vaudim
Mountain from whence it had surged forth.

And then, having passed almost completely through the cowed ranks of the enemy, the mighty horses turned and by a different path, where the soldiers seemed to stand the thickest, the
Equin
galloped for home, wreaking more death and damage on their return. They never halted, but stayed together like a giant battering ram and cut a swathe of destruction through the tormented soldiers who now fled before them. All arrows and weapons seemed useless to deflect them from their purpose until by chance a single fate intervened.

 As they galloped back toward the safety of their lines, one man stood cursing angrily and in desperate frustration loosed an arrow in some final small defiance. It was Aaraghant, the First Underlourde, the one who in pride carried only silver arrows who fired, and this single shaft found its mark in Fleetfoot who galloped by Thunder’s side. The mighty steed felt the pain of flesh torn asunder as his great flank was pierced, and immediately knew that his strength had begun to ebb away. He struggled on and kept good pace with those about still bravely finding some to trample underfoot, but as they galloped back across open ground and finally into the refuge of the forest by
Fellonshead
which welcomed them, he fell to earth and did not move again for he was dead. And the great trail of blood which marked his passing was seen and understood by those through whom he had just passed.

This amazing attack by such thunderously powerful creatures was so awful, that the whole army could not but look on as death worked so clearly in their midst. This great distraction meant that unknown to King Petros, or the Commander Leander and even the cunning Zelfos, another force had raced forth in attack as the
Equin
charged into battle. At the first sounds of the mighty thunder of their hooves, which distracted all who looked upon them, the highlanders led by Goodman Cantor and Reigin swept out from the forest on the northern flank and made speed toward the almost unprotected food supplies which sat in wagons to the rear of the army. By stealth they had ridden quietly around through the forest and were standing waiting as the
Equin’s
charge began.

In quick time all threescore riders fell upon the wagons and slew those who stood there in great fear at their attack, for there was no great opposition to their rapid approach, so unexpected did it come. As the
Equin
cut deadly swathes through the main army, the highlanders wreaked destruction upon the food and water, so that by the time the main charge of the mighty horses was finished and they turned for home, no barrel of water was left unbroken, or sack of flour uncut and trampled in the earth. 

By chance Haflan, the Second Underlourde looked back toward the rear of the vast army and saw this action. He speedily brought his horseman to oppose it; with two score of his best men and the two
Wolvers
assigned to him they rode fast back through the ranks of soldiers who were all but mesmerised by the spectacle of the mighty
Equin
trampling all before them. The highlanders and Haflan’s men clashed in a mad and furious battle which saw many dead on each side within a short time. Reigin was their saviour for he took on the
Wolvers
and single handedly slew them both, such was his great skill and superiority with the sword. None around them could enter that fray for these descendants of the
Edenwhood
moved too quickly, but Reigin seemed able to dodge and cut and duck every blow and thrust. His quick mind found advantage in the ruined wagons and tumbled stores, throwing flour to blind and a rope to tangle, all in the blink of an eye. His sword struck twice and they fell. He felt a great pain within his heart at this for they were his kin and would have wished it differently. He did not escape without some cost for a wound upon his sword arm bled freely, but did not greatly hamper him.

Goodman Cantor then lead his highlanders in a swift retreat and he slew three who came upon him; Clarynda the graceful fought mightily with the sword; she stood fearlessly in the centre of the battle and held her  ground, her horse behind ready to carry her to safety. She wounded three and felled one man before riding to safety at Goodman’s call.  But for all their bravery, many arrows found their mark and by the time the raiding party had regained the safety of the trees, ten of their number had fallen, and all their horses with them, but for one which galloped madly about, an arrow in its neck.

Haflan did not give pursuit into the forest fearing that others waited, and so they escaped, bloodied, with many wounded, and grieving their losses; and yet they had succeeded in the task which Rema had set them. The enemy had no water, and the day was hot; the heat of battle, the thirst of the men and the needs of the wounded must now become a millstone around the neck of the King.

Sylvion was tending Lightfoot when the
Equin
returned. They cantered wearily into the forest from which they had charged less than two spans before.

She left her wounded friend and rushed deeper into the trees to where the
Equin
had finally stopped to rest. She was immediately distressed by what she saw. The mighty horses were no longer standing tall and proud but were lying and writhing upon the ground. Only Thunder stood, but he too was in clear discomfort. She raced to his heaving side and placed a hand upon him. She felt a great heat as though he were burning with a fever, and she knew then that the magic which bound them had begun its work.

The
Equin
were dying.

They had left the forest and broken faith with the law which allowed them to live.

‘I am sorry Thunder, I am so very sorry.’ It was all she could say and it was not enough. Nothing that could be said with words was enough at that moment. Thunder hardly seemed to know her presence but as she stood and rubbed his burning flank the
Equin
seemed to recover a little, as though once more within the forest, the magic spell which sought to destroy them worked more slowly.

Out on the plains the
Edenwhood
still stood like statues and waited. Rema stood with them and they looked with awe upon the damaged enemy which in the shadow of the
Vaudim
mountain seemed to writhe and move like a beast struck by a venomous snake. Many dead could be seen upon the ground and far more in number who were wounded called and cried out in agony. The Lancers had laid down their spears and were helping to tend the fallen. Far to the rear, where the swathe of destruction had finally ended, the King and his Commander and Zelfos stood quietly absorbing the terrible defeat which the
Equin
had visited upon them. Leander was the first to act and called for reports and gave orders to fill the lines and deal with the dead.

A soldier came up and told them of the loss of their water and supplies; news which had an immediate impact upon the Commander, for he understood the peril this placed them in. Whilst the King and Zelfos argued about the possibility of further attack from the mighty horses, he immediately gave orders for a troop of soldiers to leave with whatever wagons were still useable and bring water back from the village of
Alstun
a dozen leagues to the south.

Another soldier ran up bringing news that Aaraghant had slain one of the giant horses with a silver arrow.

‘That man cannot help but put himself forward!’ the King muttered. ‘He sees answers to every problem in a silver arrow.’

Leander ignored his king and spoke directly to the soldier.

‘Tell Aaraghant to issue his silver arrows to the archers. If they attack again we cannot survive another charge unless we take some down. Tell him I will personally come and slay him if he disobeys this order.’

‘Surely Commander,’ said the king sarcastically,’ you do not believe that such a simple device could stop one such as we have just witnessed. No spear or iron arrow had any effect. Why should Aaraghant’s shafts be any different?’

‘If there is the smallest chance then we must use it.’ Leander spoke now with a deep fury in his voice for he had run out of patience with his king and his bald advisor. His men were dying and he had nothing to lose.

‘Go now soldier why do you linger!’ He yelled.

A cold mood came over those who heard this for they suddenly realised the peril which faced them, and that their usually implacable and fearless commander was deadly serious in his threat to Aaraghant.

The soldier gulped, saluted and hurried off, with a 'Yes sira!’ thrown back over his hastily departing shoulder, but he knew that Aaraghant would resist the command and in any case there were not more than a hundred such arrows in the whole army.

In the end he was able to convince his Underlourde that Commander Leander was deadly serious and so the best archers were given three score of arrows but Aaraghant kept the rest for himself, to shoot at men not beast for that is how he preferred to use them.

Sylvion watched as the
Equin
recovered some of their strength and were able to stand once more, all except three which could not rise. Thunder was unreachable and all the great creatures seemed now in a world apart. She stepped aside as Thunder suddenly neighed to his kin and led them to the drinking trough by the well in
Fellonshead
to drink. All did so as though they had not drunk for many days, and then without warning Thunder reared high and all the
Equin
responded in the same way.

And then to her horror, they charged off once more.

‘Not yet!’ Sylvion cried in great alarm, but they did not hear and she suddenly understood. Thunder had realised that they would not last beyond that day, perhaps till evening, and so whilst they had strength to gallop they could at least continue their fight.

She raced up upon the ramparts and sobbed in desolation as the brave horses of her childhood once more charged out onto the plains in a mighty thunder which shook the ground for leagues around. They swept past the waiting
Edenwhood
and then up the gentle slope and fell once more upon the enemy.

The lancers who stood fearfully against them, did as before, but this time as the
Equin
leapt high above, they were met with a volley of arrows, all silver tipped and each one found it mark. Sylvion heard the cries which her dear friends gave up, for they were mortally wounded. All but Thunder and a handful of others were hit, but still their mad charge went on undaunted, and once more the enemy suffered grievously under the weight and ferocity of such a brave attack. This time though the
Equin
began to fail. One by one, all those who carried a silver arrow in their flesh could not escape the awful magic which ruled them; they stumbled and fell, and finally lay still, their last breath a lonely sigh of sad regret.

 And so the
Equin
died.

Only Thunder returned with those who had escaped the silver arrows, for no other shafts were fired except those in the first deadly volley. It was fatigue and a deadly fever which drove them back to the forest, where all lay upon the ground beneath the trees and writhed once more. Sylvion stood with them, now only ten in number, and watched as their life flickered like a candle in a gentle breeze. Once more the forest seemed to revive a few, but in the end it was only Thunder and one other, whom Sylvion had once in her childhood named Sadeye, who were able to stand and face the midnoon with any breath within their body.

And Sylvion grieved, for only these two remained.

The highlanders returned just as Thunder struggled to his feet. They were exhausted, with many wounded and immediately made preparations to tend those who could not look to themselves. Sylvion spoke briefly with Goodman and Reigin before she took one of the returned horses and with the great soldier at her side rode out onto the plains and joined the ever watchful
Edenwhood
who had yet to wield a sword in anger.

There was great silence on the battlefield, as the two foes watched each other and wondered what next would come about.

‘You could have been killed Sylvion,’ Rema spoke as she joined him at the front of their small army. He did  not look directly at her but remained almost impassively staring at the vast force before him, for although the
Equin
had inflicted great losses, they were still an army well equipped with many thousand men remaining who were able to fight.

‘I could have died Rema, but I didn’t,’ she replied evenly, although it was clear that she was on the edge of tears. She continued with great emotion.

‘The
Equin
are lost to us. I cannot tell you Rema what grief this brings me. Those brave creatures sacrificed themselves for us. Only Thunder and Sadeye remain, and their life-force is ebbing as we speak.’ The sadness in her voice moved Rema deeply and he looked across at the lovely woman for whom he held such a great love. She sat proudly in her saddle but there was a deep hurt in her eyes and Rema knew that she had only done what he would have done; he could not be angry at her for that. And now these great creatures which she had so loved and who held such an importance in her life were all but gone.