The Reformation Wars: The Trump of Ibis

Chapter 8

A biting wind laced with huge snowflakes assaulted the faces of Dustin and his squad while they braced for the Innutukian barrage. Jude and fifteen archers crouched behind shields planted into the snow, while Dustin and Kyle stood behind them. While Kyle leveled the open barrel of his increasingly famous thunder lance at the incoming attackers, Dustin wielded the crossbow he carried as a side weapon. Behind the group waited a dozen horses, including Dustin's own steed Consequence.

Dustin focused on taking steady breaths while he waited for his adversaries to come within range of his projectiles. Every lungful he pushed through his lips dissipated into a thin fog as it met the winter air. While the vapor faded to nothing, he sucked in a new breath, so cold the sensation resembled a hundred needles pricking the insides of his throat.

He rubbed his numb nose while squinting at the Innutukian riders closing in. "Almost there...prepare to shoot on my command. One...two...three...go!"

All at once, Dustin's archers loosed fifteen arrows and he fired a crossbow bolt with a quick squeeze of the trigger. Kyle's contribution would be a little delayed, as he required a spark to set off the reaction that would propel his projectile.

The arrows arced through the air, while the bolt flew in a straighter line. Dustin watched and waited for them all to make impact with his approaching foes. Without realizing, he held his breath.

And then impact came. None of the arrows availed anything. Most deflected off the armor plating over the horses' snouts. Others broke on the Innutukian shields. The most favorable outcome was that of Dustin's crossbow bolt, which lodged itself irretrievably in a soldier's shield. Still, no damage had been done, and the mounted charge held strong.

An earsplitting bang sounded just feet from Dustin's ear, that being the sound of Kyle firing his thunder lance. The air rippled around him as he watched the ball of lead hurtle toward its target.

This impact did damage, and devastatingly so. The metal orb ripped straight through an Innutukian's shield, presumably lodging itself inside his body shortly thereafter. At any rate, he tumbled off his horse while wailing miserably. One of the horses stumbled over him, and before it could recover its footing, a hoof came down awkwardly on his fallen shield. The shield only slid over the snow like a sled, felling the horse and its rider.

As the cascade of chaos continued, weakening one side of the cavalry charge, Dustin urged the archers to continue loosing arrows at will, whatever speed they could achieve. Meanwhile, he braced the crossbow against the ground to tug the string back and place a new bolt inside the firing mechanism. Here and there, he continued to steal glances at the battle beyond.

He peeked up just in time to see a particularly fast rider that had escaped the chaos on his side of the formation. Having broken into a full gallop, the warrior prepared to hurl a spear at the small group of Monteraynians. Dustin's eyes widened, and he reached over to Kyle's shoulder.

"Duck!" he cried, kneeling behind the line of shields himself. Seeing as Jude had been focusing his arrows on the more coherent formation on the right side, he tapped his back and pointed at the more imminent threat.

Before Jude could loose an arrow on him, the Innutukian tossed his spear, and it only managed to knock one of the shields over. He promptly hunched over in his saddle and hid himself behind his shield. No matter for Jude, it appeared, as he simply targeted the man's exposed leg instead.

Dustin stepped around the archers, stooped down, and picked up the fallen spear. After setting their toppled shield back in its place, he turned to his men.

"I want you all to focus on taking down the coherent unit." he said, "I'll pick off the stragglers over here."

All men barked affirmatives, and so Dustin returned Kyle's crossbow to him, hoisted himself atop Consequence, and set off. As he galloped into action, he noted the spear had been unusually weighted, with him being forced to place his grip on the shaft rather high to achieve balance. He remedied the awkwardness somewhat by couching the weapon in his armpit as he rode.