Shades of the Past: The Morcyth Saga Book Six (21 page)

“Way to go James!” Devin’s voice rings
out.

“Quiet back there!” Illan orders as the
crossbowmen ready another volley. “Hedry, see if you can distract
them.”

“Archers!” he hollers. “Ready bows!” The line
of bowmen including Errin and Aleya put bow to string and draw them
back to await his command. Hedry raises his arm and then lowers it
as he cries “Fire!”

A hundred arrows fly toward the enemy, some
taking out crossbowmen while others fly further and find their mark
among the rank of soldiers. From the walls of Lythylla behind them,
a cheer erupts from the onlookers.

“Fire at will,” Illan says to Hedry.

“Fire at will!” Hedry repeats to his men and
as fast as bowmen can put arrow to string, they fire at the
enemy.

Horns from the enemy blow and the soldiers
behind the crossbowmen surge forward with a war cry. Swords
gleaming in the morning sun, they rush Illan’s position. “Any time,
Delia,” Illan tells her. Another round of bolts is loosed from the
crossbowmen as they and Hedry’s archers exchange fire.

“Okay my lads,” Delia says as she turns to
face her slingers. “Take out one from the pouch and set it into
your sling. As soon as you do, launch it to the enemy. Wait five
seconds then do it again.”

Removing one of the special missiles James
had put together, she places it within her sling. Before she
finishes twirling her sling up to speed, several of the others let
fly with theirs.

As the approaching soldiers see the missiles
flying toward them, they pause in their charge and raise their
shields. The hardened clay missiles shatter on impact and the
soldiers are surprised at the crystals contained within. Each has a
glow to them and after nothing happens, they resume their
charge.

“What went wrong?” Illan asks Delia after the
first round fails to do anything.

“I don’t know,” she replies as she winds up
her sling to launch her second volley.

Then all of a sudden, soldiers closest to the
first volley of crystals begin falling to the ground as the
crystals leech power from them. A second later, orbs begin filling
the air and start emitting bursts of electricity.

The momentum of the charge falters as men are
struck with the lightning from the orbs. Officers order their men
forward and the charge resumes as more and more men fall victim as
the second volley of crystals activates.

“They’re not going to get all of them,” says
Ceadric.

“No, they aren’t,” agrees Jiron.

“Be ready,” Illan says as he draws forth his
sword.

Behind them, the catapults fall silent as the
approaching soldiers close the distance and move out of the target
range. Catapults are for long range attacks, not much good for in
close fighting.

The last volley of crystals soars over head,
some of the slingers aiming for the remaining crossbowmen at the
rear of the charging men. “There’s their cavalry!” hollers one of
Ceadric’s men.

From his position on the walls of Lythylla,
Lord Pytherian sees the hundreds of cavalrymen emerging from around
both sides of the palisade. “Send forth our men,” he tells Henri
beside him.

Henri turns to the men waiting in the
courtyard below and gives the signal. First through the gates rides
the cavalry, five hundred strong. They split up on the far side of
the bridge, half moving to meet the oncoming riders on the right
and the other half those on the left.

Illan takes note of the riders spewing forth
from Lythylla, coming to their aid. “About time,” he mumbles. The
lightning from the orbs is creating merry havoc with the men
charging his position. Though their momentum is faltering, it isn’t
stopping. “Jiron! Ceadric!” he hollers as he sits his horse with
sword in hand. “Hold your position! Let them come to us.”

The first line of soldiers runs into the
barrier between the staffs, their faces showing the startlement of
hitting the unexpected barrier. Then they become squashed against
it as other soldiers hit them from behind. Around the far sides of
the barrier the soldiers encounter Jiron on the right and Ceadric
on the left and the battle is joined.

Delia and her slingers are protected from the
onslaught by the barrier and the fighters on either side. “Fire at
will!” she calls out as she sets a slug to sling and begins
twirling. Letting loose, she watches the slug fly through the air
and strike a soldier square upon the forehead. The man stands
stunned for a moment then disappears from sight as he falls to the
ground and is trampled by the men coming up behind him.

At first she was worried that the barrier
would prevent the slugs from going through, but James had allowed
for that. You can’t imagine the relief she felt when her first slug
went through the barrier. Now, they rain a constant hail upon those
wedged on the far side. Most of the slugs simply bounce off the
soldier’s armor, but a few find their mark and take them down.

Given the chance she would lead her slingers
off the field of battle, this is no place for them. If the barrier
were to fail, they would be cut down in no time. Out of the corner
of her eye she keeps track of the fighting going on around her.
Jiron and his men are devastating the line of enemy soldiers,
Shorty stays closer to Delia and her bunch as his knives wouldn’t
be as effective in such a melee.

A group of Parvatis moves against Ceadric’s
position and wades into them with both swords felling men fast. “To
the left!” she cries to her slingers. “Take out the Parvatis!”
Turning slightly left, she winds her sling up and lets loose
another slug. It flies through the air striking a Parvati in the
side of the head. As he falls, more slugs and arrows from Hedry’s
group begin to take their toll.

The memory of the Parvati Qyrll whom she had
met once while he was staying with James flashes across her mind. A
good man and honorable, she dislikes having to kill his countrymen,
possibly his kin. But what else can she do?

From the edges of the battlefield, the sound
of horses neighing can be heard as the two cavalry forces meet. The
riders from Lythylla are outnumbered but are holding them at bay
while their foot soldiers rush to their aid. Still streaming from
the gates of Lythylla, they race as fast as possible to join in the
fray. Already, the number of allies on the field is approaching
that of the Empire.

The light from the Star moves throughout the
battlefield as Miko tends the wounded as only he can. He longs to
join in the battle, but the need to save the lives of these men
outweighs the need for glory. Moving from injured man to injured
man, he ministers to them with the healing power of Morcyth.

At one point he was healing a man with a
severed arm. He reattached it through the power of the Star and was
about to move to another when the tide of battle shifted. The line
between himself and the enemy suddenly collapses. Putting away the
Star, he draws forth his sword and meets the oncoming soldiers.

With speed the likes of which few soldiers
have ever encountered, he blocks the attack of one while kicking
out at another. In a blinding attack, two soldiers fall away with
mortal wounds while a third launches into a series of attack which
Miko is able to easily counter.

From the side a sword strikes at him and
leaves a long gash along his side. The pain of the wound is barely
even noticeable as he strikes out at the soldier and removes his
head from his shoulder.

Then, Scar and Potbelly are there and stand
with him shoulder to shoulder. “Miko!” hollers Potbelly, “Stig
needs you!”

“We’ll hold here!” yells Scar.

Nodding, Miko takes out the man he’s facing
with a quick thrust through the chest and then disengages. He finds
Stig a few yards away, a rapidly growing stain spreading across his
front. Returning his sword to its scabbard, he hurries over.

“Miko,” Stig says weakly as he
approaches.

“Just relax,” he tells him as he removes the
Star.

Stig lays back, the pall of death upon his
face as the glow from the Star shines forth. Miko has done this
enough now to be able to tell if he’s too late or not and with
relief he realizes he’s not. With the power of the Star and
Morcyth, he closes the wound in Stig’s stomach, repairing the
severed intestines and other organs within.

When the glow disappears, Stig sighs in
relief. The pain, once a flaring sun is now little more than an
ache. “Thanks man,” he tells him.

Miko takes his arm and helps him to his feet.
With one of Stig’s arms across his shoulders, he helps him back to
where Delia and the slingers stand near the center of their force.
“Keep an eye on him,” he tells Delia as he sets Stig on the
ground.

She nods her head as she begins twirling her
sling yet again.

Looking around, Miko finds another in need
and goes to him.

The battle has been raging now for fifteen to
twenty minutes. The individual moments of valor and bravery are too
many to count. When the line crumbles under the onslaught of the
Empire, reinforcements move to close the gap.

Once the men from Lythylla joined the fray,
Illan could see that after the effect of James’ crystals, the two
forces were equally numbered. When the archers from Lythylla
finally made their appearance after the foot soldiers took the
field, the outcome was a foregone conclusion. Their deadly barrage
began mowing down the enemy in swaths.

Taking advantage of a momentary lull in the
fighting, he surveys the battlefield and can see where the Empire’s
men are beginning to turn and flee. Now that victory for them is
out of the question, most are simply interested in survival.
Suddenly, the line of men close to Ceadric’s force breaks off and
turns to flee toward the palisade. As Ceadric moves to follow he
hollers, “Hold your position!”

Ceadric glances back and sees him looking at
him, covered in blood from head to toe, some friendly but the vast
majority is from those he’s slain this day. Nodding, he begins
forming up his ranks and holds his position. A cheer rises from his
men at their victory.

Then all of a sudden the entire enemy line is
in retreat. The forces from Lythylla set out in pursuit as those
under Illan maintain their position. They’ll let Madoc’s forces do
the mopping up.

“Report!” he hollers.

“Lost a third of my men,” Ceadric says as he
comes near.

“No one got close to us,” Delia tells him.
Glancing at her boys she says, “They all did magnificent.” Illan
nods his head and then turns to Jiron.

“Would have lost half of mine if Miko hadn’t
been with us,” he says. “Most won’t be good for a day or two, but
they’ll live to fight another day.”

“Very well,” he says. Looking to the fleeing
soldiers, he grins when he finds the palisade, which had so well
protected them during the long siege, is now a wall barring their
escape. Madoc’s forces, so long desiring retribution for the rape
of their country don’t even offer them quarter, they simply cut
them down.

The battlefield is a ghastly sight, the dead
and dying cover the ground between the river and the palisade.
Cries from the wounded men sing out and the light from the Star can
be seen moving from one to the next as Miko does his best to save
every last one of them. Even Brother Willim and the three remaining
members of the Hand are out among the injured doing what they can
for them.

“Ceadric!” hollers Illan. “Have some of the
men get the wounded and those unable to fight back to the city.”
They may have beaten this force, but there’s still the other force
James saw in his mirror on the way.

“Delia, have your group stay with Hedry’s” he
hollers. The battle before the palisade is winding down, men are
escaping through the gates. Madoc’s men are riding in pursuit.
Seeing one of Madoc’s officers nearby, Illan shouts, “Kippen!”

Looking his way, Kippen brings his horse to a
halt. As he does, Illan hollers, “Get your men back. There’s
another force on the way and we have to get into position.”

“Yes, sir,” he replies and kicks his horse
into a gallop as he races to the palisade.

“We’re not going to fight another battle are
we?” a voice from the slingers calls out.

Illan turns to them but can’t determine who
asked the question. “Yes we are. They’re not expecting an attack
and the element of surprise will give us an edge.”

“Any of those son’s of a dog we take down now
will be less we’ll have to face later,” Ceadric adds.

As Ceadric’s men begin removing the injured
and recently healed, Illan starts moving toward the palisade. The
remainder of his force, still over seven hundred strong, follow
along behind.

Calling to the officers from the various
forces to fall in, he begins marshalling the chaos around him back
into an effective fighting force. Hedry and Delia’s people stay to
the rear this time, no need being out front.

To one officer of a cavalry unit he orders,
“Send out riders and find the force coming from the south.”

“Yes, sir!” the officer hollers as he carries
out the order. Soon, four riders are racing for the gate in the
palisade.

“They may already know of the battle from
those who fled,” one of Ceadric’s men states.

“Be that as it may, we are still going to
engage while the numbers are on our side,” he says.

Madoc’s archers fall in behind their force as
well as soldiers from many units, swelling their numbers by the
minute. While not in the actual line of command for any of these
forces, in the face of the Black Hawk banner, none will gainsay
him. His legend awes them into compliance.

On the far side of the palisade, they find
what’s left of the enemy’s camp. Tents, wagons and a large number
of slaves who are being set free. Many can’t believe their lives
are once again their own. Some have never known freedom, having
been born slaves and simply don’t know what to do now that they are
free.