GODS AT THE CENTRE ( EDITING)

CHAPTER X, EMMESO: THE EAGLE DESCENDS

Atriks galloped over to him, half way to the front, anxiety written all over him. He dismounted in one brisk movement.

"What happened? I heard the horns calling to battle. The soldiers were charging! What's going on here?"

'Murky muddle, your Excellency, that is what's going on here." Atriks flamboyance seemed thin now.

Emmeso rode over towards the front without further question, Atriks came in tow, explaining as they passed between columns of somewhat confused soldiers.

This is not good, no, no! Something is absolutely wrong.

"They're attacked again. Vantu threw everything she had at us. You had gone to inspect the rear." Atriks started.

Emmeso nodded. After the experience with the berserker, there was no shame in seeking the "solace" of the rear.

"We held her back, I was coming to find you when the horns sounded Dasa, that bumbling idiot! He couldn't resist the lure of Vantu fleeing. He ordered a charge! It was a mistake putting him in front, most were his men from the fort!"

He had put Dasa at the front to punish him for his insolence. A decision he was ruing now.

"He called out to me from afar before charging downhill "I don't take orders from mercenary scum!" I think he added "And Goe pigs." I couldn't hear him quite well over the noisy charge."

Atriks continued. "It was hard to stop the rest from charging after him. A fair amount had already gone though. It was..."

Dasa that bloody fool! That.... Ah!

'How many?" He asked as he reached the trench. His army was smaller now. Could he hold on?

"That much!" Atriks pointed down hill

Emmeso eyes widened. Down in the plain, a great number of his men, thousands were in pursuit of the fleeing Thigian soldiers.

The chase continued further into the plain, to the centre of it.

Then, the fleeing Thigians drew to a halt, mechanically. Before turning to face their pursuers.

Emmeso felt his hairs stand. He felt he was watching the door of some trap begin to swing shut.

The Thigians charged at their attackers.

Then, he saw it "Oh no!"

The pursing Alamarians failed to notice it, while they had pursued the fleeing centre, two flanks of the Thigians had began to enclose them from each side, drawing shut like the jaws of some monster.

The Alamarians seemed to realize their plight. They broke ranks and tried to race back to the hills, before the two flanks entrapped them.

They wouldn't make it.

Emmeso sighed. He had hoped to hold out for more hours. He might be able to hold out with the men here. But that wasn't the point. Could he stand here and watch thousands of his die. Some other man would, but not him.

The City or my men? What Commander had ever to make this decision?

His heart beat even fasted, he couldn't think properly. This was no time for strategy. His men were closer now and so where the jaws.

He moved his hand upwards in a dream like state, unaware of his being.

In response to his gesture the charging blast was given. He seemed dead to the activity all around him.

"Take the right flank." He said dryly to Atriks.

Everything was moving so swiftly, yet he felt still within. He felt out of his body, watching the whole scene unravel.

Tension built up within him, he felt like an arrow drawn, a scorpion reared to strike, an eagle in the highest heavens, ready to drop.

Then, he said it.

"To live and die!"

"For Alamaria!" Men thundered.

He plunged downhill. The wind rushed against him, pulling at his cape. He looked behind and saw the might of Alamaria racing after him. Their banners raced in the wind, the emblazoned eagles threatened to fly.

He laughed and nudged forward furiously.

He had missed the thrill. The rushing blood, the absolute excitement, feeling alive when life was at its most risk, a fantasy!

Laughing he crossed boulders, feeling like the head of a storm.

The momentum of descent made him feel like an eagle descending to strike, he drew his blade laughing as he brandished it-his talons were extended.

It all came back. The battle at Ack. Him standing alone against the encroaching enemy. Alone, berserking, senselessly fearless and truly alive.

I have missed this!

Abruptly, his destrier's hooves sank into the brown sands of the plain, before tearing ahead like a blur.

He felt light as air, Aoha's own wind zooming across the sky. Through the tail of his eye he saw Atriks veer right as he veered left, dividing their forces.

He heart sang as arrows flew overhead into the enemy's enclosing left flank. The gap between the jaws was closing.

Ania guard me. Aloha guide me. Ivara, give me strength and Idem, stir my blood

The fleeing Alamarians caught sight of him and gave triumphant cries and turned back into the battle.

A collision was coming!

His eyes narrowed, his spine stood erect. His entire being concentrated into a single consciousness, now.

He saw the enemy and nothing more. Some turned around, raising spears, to see him lead his men like a wave to crash into them.

Like a shooting star of Aoha  he crashed into the left flank, his sword a blazing blur, its path, a trail of blood, its herald was blood.

He laughed and laughed, all life went slowly before him. His cape trailed, slapped by the wind as he struck here and there.

Somewhere between the slaughter, laughter and reckless self abandon, he muttered rapturous. "Meri."