A Field For Wolves

Prologue

The wind greeted us with a harsh stab that dug into our cheeks from a pale blanket that covered the world. My heart beat with a tight grip that felt like ropes around the organ just as I felt the ground tremble. My eyes peered from the steel visor of my helm as I looked on ahead to see the faceless men. Riders armed in plate and steel who barreled down the hill in quick formation like a spearhead to a shield. I squeezed my spear and shield just as they came. I closed my eyes and dug into the earth.

A loud cry broke in front of me as I felt a heavy force push against my spear and shield. My back pressed against the man behind and he pushed his shield onto me. I opened my eyes and saw that my spear stabbed into horse of the rider who had been flung forward into the troop only to be killed.

I quickly drew my blade and caught my temperament. If I faultered, I died. Precision. Simplicity. Kill.

I marched forward as the cavalry came back for a second charge. I pressed against the man by my side and held together as the horses smashed into right into my face with the force of a mountain. I fell to the ground as the steeds trampled over me onto be cut back by the others of my group. I yelled as the body of a horse fell upon me but my shield protected me from any real damage, by the weight of the horse trapped me. I grunted and tried to dig myself out.

A hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled my body free. "I got you! Come!" the man shouted.

I reached my feet and groaned as I pulled my shield free. I grabbed a spear from the ground and joined the man without a word. Trust in him, in myself. Survive. Kill.

We pulled together as we saw the infantry charge down the hill. The rest of the enemy cavalry seemed to have gone from us, but I could not be sure. I just had to stick to my training and hope we make it through.

A bloody roar of voices came from the hundreds of men who charged right into us. I held my breath and gripped the shield once more. I yelled and gave a heavy thrust. I stabbed the man in front of me and drove my spear deep into his neck. I wasted no time and drew my sword and slashed forward.

The hurdle of voices and screams meshed together as I hacked and swung my blade at those in front of me. I kept my shield high and protected my chest from any hits, but I felt the blades and spears slice and cut at my arms, thighs, and hips. I did not know if they duh into me, punctured something, or cut me wide open. I felt nothing except the fire that beat within my head, within my heart, within my body.

Blood sprayed forth from the man next to me while I stabbed my blade into the eye of the one in front of me. I pulled the weapon back with a crunch and sliced at the man to my upper right. My blade hacked into his neck just as he tried to block an attack from another. I barely had a second to catch my breath before I parried an attack from another man only for him to fall to his knees as he was stabbed in the back.

Just then, a horn blew forth from the side. A third roar of voices filled the field as I saw our captain charge into the flank. He burst right into enemy and tore through the loose formation with his knights. I was nearly run over again as one of the knights bashed into the man in front of me. My foe was hammered to the ground by the force. I took my chance and fell to ground just as I stabbed my sword into his neck.

I struck down another man before I looked to others to try and place our unit. My sight was immediately caught by our captain, styled in steel with blue, as his horse crashed into the dirt. He pulled himself up just as he unsheathed his longsword and swung at those around him.

I rushed towards him as I could while I kept my shield up to cover me. It was a risky charge that he did, but it broke the enemy lines. We just needed to push. They would panic and flee. That was all we needed.

I instead stopped in my tracks as blood splattered at me and an arm fell before me. I looked ahead and saw the captain swing his blade and slice right through a man with no effort. The blade tore through his armour and mail as though it were butter. He swung again and again. Steel bent, broke, and shattered as he ripped through three, four, seven, ten men with sword. My heart stopped at the sight, completely lost in the scene. Had the cold gotten to me? The starvation? The stress? Had I died already when the cavalry hit me?

The scene was real and the captain had killed those men with no effort. He then fell to his knees after they were dead. I rushed to his side as I found our captain exhausted as he panted aggressively.

"I... I can't... My... I feel... Tired..." and with those words, he collapsed to ground.

"Captain Dowvyn! Captain!" I shouted.

I tried to remove his helm as I figured that it may have been causing some breathing difficulties. However, just as I removed it, blood leaked from the back as I saw a big wound across his skull. He must have hit a rock when his horse crashed.

I gritted my teeth as I looked at his body, unsure if what to do. I was not confident that the men could hold out if they thought their leader dead. And with Dowvyn's strength, especially from what I had just witnessed, he alone could have turned the battle.

A howl came from behind as one of the enemy men tried to attack me by surprise. On instinct, I tried to grab my sword, but a tight grip suddenly squeezed my neck just as I touched my hilt. The world seemed to slow and my head felt heavy. When I looked down, I saw that my hand had not grabbed my sword, but instead the hilt of my captain's longsword. The blade felt heavy yet light with an uncomfortable grip. It was strange. The sword looked normal, but it felt entirely different.

The world resumed and I swung my blade up at my foe. The steel sliced through his hip and dug right through rib cage and heart before it emerged from his shoulder. The two halves of his body fell to the ground as bood colored the steel. My lungs felt hot and the sword felt glued to my hand. I rose to my feet and looked down to the sword. I could feel the strange sensation around my neck grow tighter and tighter, and the sword felt as heavy as a boulder, but it felt like nothing when I swung it. I then realised that it was most likely the blade that gave the captain his strength, but now I held the weapon.

I looked to the rest of the soldiers fighting and felt a sudden confidence with the weapon. I ran right at the closest man I could find and attacked. I parried an attack only to slice right through the man's arms. The limbs spilled to the ground as he screamed for a second longer only to feel the longsword slice through his neck. It went like that for the next man and the one after that. I knew where to swing, when to move, when to block, how much force to use, even my stance suddenly changed, and it all felt natural, perfect. It was as if I had always known how to fight, and I knew more, more than I had ever been trained for.

Blood poured over my hands, my arms, my chest, my helm, I cut, hacked, broke, beheaded, and destroyed every fighter I encountered. It was simple and effortless. Ten, twenty, fifty, I continued without any stop. My lungs were strained and my arms were on fire, but I could not stop. Body after body, they all fell until I felt my knees give in.

I fell to the ground with a whine as I desperately tried to catch my breath. I barely even noticed the men who were running away in horror or what appeared to be the blinding cheer and victory cries from our army. No. I could only see the red on my hands and armour. The bits of flesh scattered on my and the putrid smell of intestines and filth from the human body. My hand was still gripped around the hilt of my sword... My sword... The captain's longsword. The weapon, the gift. I could not let go, I would never let go.