The God Reborn

Chapter 1

Fabian Fortis of the Shield, Companion of the 22nd Spear Company, thought for a moment of his beloved wife, Peloma, and his young son, Remus. But he forced their images out of his mind. He had duties to attend to.

He watched the thin line of twenty heathen skirmishers break into a run as they entered bow range. Then he turned and signaled one of his lieutenants to make the bugle call for attention.

"These skirmishers hope to sow confusion among us by slaying our commanders," he said as he strode before his double line of fifty spearmen.

He turned his back to the enemy, drew himself to his full height and squared his shoulders. "They will fail. But even if they succeeded in killing me, it would not matter. In one thousand years, the 22nd Spears have never broken in battle."

He theatrically looked to his left, and then to his right. "Today ten companies of Shields join us in combat, the largest army fielded in the more than eight hundred years since the 17th rebirth."

And now he ran his eyes along his own soldiers. "Senior Companion Cato Victor of the Shield has placed our company at the center of the line. We are the center. If the heathen break us, they will roll up both sides of our army and cut off our route to the colonies. But that will not happen, because we are the 22nd Spears. We do not break!"

"We hold the line!" the men echoed back the ancient motto in a rousing cheer.

Fabian motioned over his two lieutenants. Hadrian led the front line and was his bugler. Octavia, recently promoted, led the second. "Are your soldiers ready?"

"We'll kill them all, sir," responded Hadrian, banging his gauntleted fist into his steel breastplate.

"God willing, we shall," said Octavia.

Fabian looked to his left and saw the 21st Spears standing in battle formation. To his right were the 23rd. Both companies were armed with sturdy spears with shafts of white ash and short swords of forged steel like those of Fabian's 22nd. They were protected by mail hauberks and coifs over leather, augmented by open faced helmets and shoulder and chest plates made of steel. Tall kite sheets of leather-covered alder wood were strapped over their shoulders and controlled by their left hands. In combat they would overlap these shields with each other to create an impenetrable wall from behind which they could thrust their spears and swords. Under the mud and dust of two days' march, their hemp tunics and cloaks were colored a uniform dark green.

Behind him were the unarmored marksmen of the 14th and 15th Bows, just releasing their first salvo against the approaching skirmishers as Fabian watched. Their arrows would sail out and over the 5th Horse, lightly armored cavalrymen armed with ash lances and steel sabers, arrayed in a long, loose formation in front of the main army to fight off the skirmishers. Another cavalry unit, the 4th Horse, was hidden in a copse of trees on the ridgeline just to the right of the flat, grassy battlefield, waiting for an opportunity to charge the enemy flanks. There was a final unit of spearmen, the 24th Spears, to the rear as a reserve.

Eight companies of Shields. About four hundred fighting men and women, all told. It would be more than enough to fight off a force of five hundred heathen.

He sensed an uneasiness among his men and turned to face the onrushing skirmishers. Where there had been twenty, there were now twelve. The archers' arrows had taken their price. But the heathen had crossed about a quarter of the distance to the line of cavalry. Fabian turned to his right and saw his friend Virgil Potens of the Shield, Companion of the 23rd Spear. "I'll wager three of them fall to the horsemen. Do you take over or under?" he called out.