The Stonegate Sword

Chapter 25 -- The Fort Falls

The strange lull in the battle quickly ended, as the raiders tried to turn first the left then the right flanks.  Balek Brown was cleverly forcing the two troops to pull back into a semicircle formation.  They shifted left, so that they surrounded the brow of a small hill, south of the saddle.  The knoll was part of the lower ridge, and they had a grove of pinion and juniper trees behind them, to the east.  That side of the hill had a steep slope with scattered rim rock.  It was not a good place for cavalry to attack, so it anchored their back quite well.

“We have to find out what is happening at the raider fort,” shouted Don to Robert.  The raiders were holding the left flank, but their line was thinly held.  If he moved fast, he could possibly break out.

Robert looked to the left and understood what Don intended.  “You are right. Go! But take three of your guards with you!  Don’t try it alone!”

Don motioned to three Blade troopers, bodyguards, who were stationed next to the Troop banner and gave the hand signal to charge.  Then he spurred Snap for the saddle on the left flank.  He moved so fast that the others were caught by surprise, but they fell in behind him.  Don had lost his spear somewhere.  He had no memory of what had happened to it.  So he drew his sword and shouted, “Make way!”

The troopers pulled their mounts aside to let the four of them through the line and they drove straight toward a small knot of raiders on the enemy right flank. The brown-cloaked raiders, on their small ponies, stood little chance in single combat against the heavily-armored troopers.  Don’s kite shield protected his left side, and the shining blade on his right was a vision of death.  The raiders broke, parting before them like grass before the reaper.  One cast a javelin, but Don easily batted it aside.  He made no attempt to run down the enemy.  The four simply kept going on a line toward the east, over the saddle and down the other side.  Don looked over his shoulder, and was glad to see that all three companions were still with him.  One had an arrow feathering his shield, and another had blood on the tip of his lance.

They were followed by a score of raiders, who kept a respectful distance, accompanied by much angry shouting.  Then they heard a piercing whistle. Their pursuers reined their horses to a stop, and then turned back. They were apparently not going to weaken their force to chase a few fugitives. Don and his troopers had broken free, but getting back would not be so easy!

They galloped on across a wide swale, dotted with scattered bitterbrush and serviceberry.  The major ridge ahead would give a clear view of the raider camp.  As they topped it, they came nearly face to face with another band of raiders – well over a hundred.  They had found the rest of Balek Brown’s minions.

Several thoughts flashed through Don’s mind.  Finding the missing enemy was good news.  They had apparently had left the fort unguarded.  That was also good news.  There was no sign of the levies who were going to attack the fort – Don assumed that they were still concealed in the large grove of junipers and shrubs to the east.  Balek Brown had taken the bait.  That was good for everyone except the bait.  He realized that he was in the jaws of a trap, and to return the way he had come was to feel the jaws close and crush his small band.

“Break right!” he shouted and pointed in that direction with his sword.  A great shout went up from the enemy force.  As they spurred to follow Don and his three stout companions turned down the ridge and headed toward the river, drawing pursuit away from the fort.  Running downhill, the warhorses had a better chance of holding their slight lead over the fast little ponies.

Just as before, a score of raiders followed them.  Don could see that the bulk of them would join with the force opposing Old Robert and his two troops. That was just as they had hoped.  The way was clear for the levies. If only they would seize the opportunity to assault the virtually-undefended fort! But Don had problems of his own. His mount was tiring, and the enemy ponies were fresh. But their numbers might lead them to be overconfident.

Don led the way on a breakneck dash towards the river. But the lightly-armored raiders easily kept the pace, and were closing the gap. One of their short arrows sailed just over Don’s head. Fortunately, the shot was aimed at the rider. Don’s mail would stop any arrow, though perhaps at the cost of a broken link. Too many broken links and the armor would be defeated!

Snap lunged bravely on.  They passed a dense grove of Gambel’s Oak, and then reined to a stop.  Don’s companions swept by, then also wheeled.  When the leading raiders swept by, they met them with deadly blades.  Four saddles were emptied in an instant.  Three riderless ponies dashed on.  One of Don’s companions somehow was able to grab a rein, and swung a pony around to his side.  The rest of the raiders wheeled away and also came to a stop, perhaps a hundred yards away.  The two groups faced each other for a long instant.

Then a couple of raider archers nocked arrows and let fly.  The arrows did no damage, but it made Don remember that he also had a bow. To string it was the work of a moment, and he drew one of his ten arrows. He could not hold both the bow and his kite shield with his left arm, so he let the shield drop -- to be held by its carrying strap.  He aimed at one of the closest raiders -- the pony, not the person -- and let fly.  It was not a difficult shot.  The arrow buried itself in the pony's ribs.

Don’s bow changed the equation.  The stricken pony lunged forward, trying to escape the sharp piercing pain.  One of the guards at Don’s right rear, also strung a bow.  The remaining raiders pulled back to a respectful distance, beyond easy bowshot and tried to decide what to do.  The wounded pony fell.  Don winced.  Only the needs of war would  allow him to cause harm to one of these brave little creatures!

The remaining fifteen raiders milled around in confusion.  Don was glad to let Snap blow.  He had been pushing his mount hard.  He glanced at the other three horses, and saw that they were well lathered, and also needed to catch their breath.  It was a stalemate.  Even fifteen of the raiders could not frontally charge the four without heavy losses.  The four could not chase down the raiders—they were too nimble In an open field. The fifteen could surround and wear them down, but the dense grove of oak at their rear frustrated that. The raiders were reduced to shouting obscene taunts.  However, the standoff continued.

After perhaps a quarter-hour, Don could hear a crash in the thicket behind them.  He realized that an enemy or a group was coming through the thicket on foot.  They probably had bows.  Don gave an arm signal, and they moved to the right, keeping close to the thicket, but putting distance between themselves and the crashing noises.  The horses’ spirit had returned—the rest had done them good. Don ignored the crude taunts of the enemy, challenging them to single combat.  He knew it was only a ruse.

“Dammit, sir,” spat one of the guards.  “Are we just going to sit here all day? We can’t let those cowardly wretches get away with calling us names!”  His mates grumbled assent.

Don found himself agreeing that they had to do something.  Their horses had caught their breath. The problem was that for every action the raiders might take, Don had a logical counter.  And the same was true in reverse.  Everything he might do to regain the initiative could be easily negated by the enemy, if they were clever, and they seemed to be that.  It wa a recipe for indecision.  He know that they had to do something, even if it was wrong!

He decided that since they had two bows, and were well armoured, that a good plan would be to advance to bowshot range and engage them.  They would then try to move down to the river and at least water their horses, and ….  The enemy seemed distracted and were pointing down the valley.  Don suddenly spurred Snap and  led his small detachment straight at them, arrow on bowstring.  The raiders wheeled and galloped back the way they had come.  As Don topped a small knoll, he could see why.  The Blades had come!