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He could feel the tension within the tiny rank of villagers before him. Fifteen people against almost fifty. Some as young as he when he first left the Steppes, some almost the same age as he now. Only nine held shields, all had a spear. At any other time, it would be a bloodbath and he knew it, but only if he stood and fought a normal battle and that he did not intend to do.
By any rights, the Gaeradine would bypass them altogether, they did not stand in a direct path between the ravine opening and the village, but he relied upon Anganurg's need for the Ever Wands, his greed for power. If Brorzjav's assessment held true, the village should not see any fighting.
In the near distance, he could see the flash of lightning against the barrier and knew it soon would break, that the First Maiden would fail and, in that failure, die. That seemed inevitable and what happened next, the speed of it, would be crucial. Even as he thought of the First Maiden's strength, a lightning bolt flew from the ravine, dissipating into the sky. The First Maiden had given her all.
"Prepare yourselves!" He trotted his horse behind the brave fifteen. "Remember, we will run, but we run together. Do not break early, do not break late! Wait for my order!"
He could hear the sounds of the Gaeradine pouring from the now open ravine, the sounds of almost fifty voices roaring their advance. He could see nervous fingers flexing upon spear shafts, shoulders shaking.
"Hold!" He shouted, drawing Notch from its sheath.
Before too long, far too soon for his liking, yet later than he expected, the first wave of Gaeradine emerged from around the trees. They moved without formation, showing their colours as raiders, not soldiers. A rag tag bunch of fighters, but bloodthirsty ones that saw Brorzjav's line of defenders as easy kills. And, behind them, sat Anganurg and the boy mage upon horses, bringing up the rear.
He heard the sound of hooves to his left and saw the figure of the girl upon her blazing white pony stallion, the five of his followers flanking her. In her hand, he saw the branch of the Heart Ever Wand and, in the other, he assumed she held the pebble of the Shield Ever Wand. Everything balanced upon this first move.
The entire force of Gaeradine now swarmed towards Brorzjav and his steadfast line of shields and spears, ignoring the horses racing to the side. That is, until the six riders turned, the five warriors lowering spears and the girl holding out her fist, pointing towards the Gaeradine. If this did not work, everything fell apart. Brorzjav only hoped the little training the girl received from him and the aid of the Shield Ever Wand helped her to perform.
He felt his chest tighten, his breathing catch in his throat, as the six riders almost reached the Gaeradine. And then the girl yelled and, as she yelled, a ripple appeared in the air before her, the grass folding away from her and the first of the Gaeradine at that side found themselves flung to the sides, crashing into their comrades, thrown into the air. She had made it work, splitting the Gaeradine forces in two, riding through the gap as the other five followed, skewering the enemy upon their spears as they rode.
"Right! As one! Move!" He pointed Notch towards the path towards the caverns and the natural choke point of the steep cliffs.
The Gaeradine remained in chaos and Anganurg ran his horse around them, urging them to their feet, to return to their sloppy organisation. It would not be long before they recovered from that first attack. Brorzjav had taken first blood in this little battle. Already he counted six Gaeradine upon the ground that would not be part of this fight, either dead or too injured to proceed. Still, over forty remained.
A fork of lightning screamed down from the sky, crashing into the ground nearby, causing grass and soil to erupt into the air. Brorzjav had expected this. He could see the boy standing in his stirrups, white wand pointing his way. The villager defenders almost broke at the lightning, but he raced his terrified horse to their side, letting them see him and his sword.
YOU ARE READING
These Old Bones
Fantasy[Book Three of the "Patrons' World" series.] What was he without war? No longer a husband. Never a father. No family or friends to speak of. For decades, war had carried him from one side of the world to the other and back again, but never home. Now...
