The Burning Bridge- Character Reaction

31

Arald took the book next, flipping through the pages before beginning to read.

FROM HIS COMMAND POSITION AT THE CENTER OF HIS ARMY, Morgarath watched the apparent confusion in the King's forces. Horses were galloping back and forth, men were turning where they stood. Shouts and cries drifted across the plain to the Army of Rain and Night.

Crowley smirked. "Ah, seeing us fight those Skandians?"

Morgarath stood in his stirrups. In the far distance, he could see movement on the ridge to the north of the kingdom's army. Men were forming up and moving forward. He strained his eyes to see more clearly. That was the direction from which he expected Horth to appear, but the rising dust kicked up by all the movement made it difficult to see details.

Duncan breathed a sigh of relief. "At least that worked."

Although the bulk of Morgarath's forces were the Wargals, whose minds and bodies had been enslaved to his own will, the Lord of Rain and Night was surrounded by a small coterie of men whom he had allowed to retain their own powers of thought and decision. Renegades, criminals and outcasts, they came from all over the country. Evil always attracts its own and Morgarath's inner circle was, to a man, pitiless, black-hearted and depraved. All, however, were capable warriors and most were cold-blooded killers.

One of them now rode to Morgarath's side.

"My lord!" he cried, a smile opening on his face, "the barbarians are behind Duncan's forces! They're attacking now!"

Crowley laughed. "Oh, this is absolute gold to read!" he exclaimed. Gilan chuckled.

Morgarath smiled back at the young man. His eyes were renowned for their keenness. "You're sure?" he asked, in his thin, flat voice. The black-clad lieutenant nodded confidently.

"I can make out their ridiculous horned helmets and their round shields, my lord. No other warriors carry them."

"Of course, there is such thing as taking them," Will hedged. Horace raised an eyebrow.

"So a Skandian's weapons can be taken from them, but a Ranger's weapons can't."

"Yes," chorused said Rangers.

This was the truth. While some of the kingdom's forces did use round bucklers, the Skandians' shields were enormous affairs, made of hardwood studded with metal. They were over a meter in diameter and only the huge Skandians, heavily muscled from rowing their wolfships across the winter seas, could bear such heavy shields in a battle for any length of time.

Gilan smirked again.

"Look, my lord!" the young man continued. "The enemy are turning to face them!"

And so they appeared to be. The front ranks of the army facing them were now milling in confusion and turning about. The shouting and noise rose in pitch. Morgarath looked to his right, and saw the small hill where the King's standard marked the enemy command post. Mounted figures were pointing, facing the north.

He smiled once more. Even without the forces from across the Fissure bridge, his plan would be successful. He had Duncan's forces trapped between the hammer of the Skandians and the anvil of his own Wargals.

Duncan chuckled. "A bit full of himself, isn't he?" The others all laughed.

"Advance," he said softly. Then, as the bugler beside him didn't hear the words, he turned, his face expressionless, and whipped the man across the face with his leather-covered steel riding crop.