The Battle for Skandia- Character Reaction

35

"Here, Hal. You get to read the destruction of your people." Gilan grinned as he spoke, and the Skandians all laughed.

FROM THE CENTRAL COMMAND POSITION, HALT AND ERAK watched as the smooth drill of the archers caused havoc among the Temujai ranks, Hal began. Now that the attacking force was aware of them, Will's men had no chance to repeat the devastating casualties of those first three volleys that had all but wiped out a complete Ulan.

"It was worth it, though," Halt said.

But the regular, massed fire of one hundred archers, and Will's accurate direction, was breaking up attack after attack.

In addition, the Temujai now realized that their own favorite tactic had been effectively countered. Everyone smirked. If they sent one group into close combat while another stood off to provide covering fire during the withdrawal, they knew that the second group would instantly come under fire from the archers on the Skandian right flank. It was a new experience for the Temujai. Never before had they encountered such disciplined and accurate return fire.

"So what were they planning to do if they attacked Araluen after the rest of them?" Cassandra mused. Halt shrugged.

"Their main focus was to get rid of the Skandians."

Erak grinned. "I find it amusing they wanted our ships, and yet they can't stand to be on one for thirty seconds."

But they were no cowards, and some of the commanders were now substituting raw courage and ferocity for tactical ploys. They began to storm toward the Skandian line, abandoning their bows and drawing sabers, trying to break through in close-in fighting, determined to bury the Skandians under sheer numbers if necessary.

Halt raised an eyebrow. "I'm not entirely sure that would have worked."

They were brave and skillful fighters, and against most adversaries they might have faced, their ploy would probably have succeeded. But the Skandians reveled in hand-to-hand fighting. Said Skandians nodded agreement. To the Temujai it was a matter of skill. To the northerners, it was a way of life.

"This is more like it!" Erak bellowed cheerfully as he moved forward to intercept three Temujai scrambling over the earthen bulwark. Everyone laughed. Halt felt himself shoved to one side as Ragnak rushed to join his comrade, his own battle-ax causing terrible havoc among the small, stocky warriors who were swarming over their position.

Crowley snickered. "And Ragnak still survived that?" Halt rolled his eyes.

Halt stood back a little, content to let the Skandians take on the brunt of the hand-to-hand fighting. "Puppet masters," Horace quipped. His gaze roamed outside the area of immediate engagement until he saw what he was looking for: one of the Temujai marksmen, recognizable by the red insignia on his left shoulder, was searching the milling crowd of men for the Skandian leaders. His eyes lit on Ragnak as the Oberjarl called more of his men into the breach the Temujai had forced. The Temujai's recurve bow came up, the arrow already sliding back to full draw.

But he was two seconds behind Halt's identical movement, and the Ranger's huge longbow spat its black-painted shaft before the Temujai had reached full draw. The rider never knew what hit him as he tumbled backward over the withers of his horse.

"Nice," Crowley said. Halt nodded acknowledgment.

Suddenly, the savage little battle was over and the surviving Temujai were scrambling back down the earth slope, capturing any horses they could and hauling themselves into the saddles.