(Author’s commentary); Writing a good battle is freekin’ fun… I mean, not in a sick, ‘you should be worried about my mental health’ kind of a way… I just mean it is exciting. It feels pretty real. I might be throwing in too much detail, just so the reader knows what is happening. That is a tough call for an author to make.
This is just the very beginning of the battle. It is going to get crazy. It almost seems too easy for the good guys so far… but trust me… that might change…
Pay particular attention to how much warfare on this made-up world has changed since the days of the choreographed, ritualized, almost death-free battles that were the rule in earlier times.
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The Seven Kingdoms
Chapter Twenty Six
They climbed the low ridge before them, the trees and brush breaking the army into pieces. They crested the ridge and began working their way down the other side. They came out of the trees and Hildy could see another valley running across their line of march. She could also see the gap in the hills on the other side of the valley towards which they were marching.
As they continued forward, it became obvious why there were no farms, at least in this part of the valley. The ground was scattered with rocks, from small, fist-sized stones to some as large as a small cottage. In places, the boulders clumped together as if seeking companionship. A soldier suddenly came scurrying out from between two of these larger rock piles. He spotted her and came her way.
“The enemy has landed a considerable force, commander,” he told her. “We think as many as three thousand men so far, with more coming. But they are having a terrible time. Many boats have flipped over, and a few have been smashed on the rocky shore. We think at least some of the landing troops have been drowned.”
So much for meeting them right on the beach, Hildy decided. They were already almost evenly matched, and the Skulls would all be armed with spears. Many were probably veterans with experience in at least some of their easy victories. She hoped they hadn’t started arming all their men with slings, too. She thanked the man, and told him to rejoin the other scouts.
Just as she began to raise her spear to urge the army forward again, another group of men caught up with her from behind, pushing through the halted troops. They wore no uniforms, but were clad in white tunics. There were about fifty of them. One man approached her. “We are here to help with the injured,” the man gasped. They had obviously been running to catch up.
Hildy saw that the men all had satchels slung over their shoulders, and a few were carrying what she took to be rolled up stretchers. “We are glad to have you. Make sure you all hang back enough to avoid being hit by their slingers.” With that, she got the army moving again. Despite the rocky terrain, it didn’t take them long to reach the crest of the next ridgeline at the low point where it had been worn away by a river that had long since disappeared. As she came over the rise, where dirt washed down by the rains had begun to refill the mouth of the valley, she caught her first glimpse of the sea, and a few steps later, she saw the black fleet spread out across the water. It looked as if there were at least eighty or one hundred ships out there. She wondered briefly whether she should send word to her fleet commander and have him come out of the bay to attack the enemy ships, but she realized at once that this would put their own ships at a disadvantage. She had to trust her fleet commander to do what he thought was right.
She forced herself back to the moment and examined the valley as her men formed up behind her. She took a few steps forward and she could see the mass of black-clad troops down by the beach. More were landing, and little, black longboats scuttled to and fro. She looked more closely at the valley itself and received a shock. It was just as she imagined it to be. Just narrow enough so that her men on either side could rain stones down into the center, and the ridges on both sides would be easy to climb from this end, and there were just enough trees and bushes for concealment. It was perfect for her plan.
She called forward her troop captains, the leaders of units of one hundred men. She quickly explained her plan. “I am sending three thousand men into the valley, and splitting the rest between the ridges. Put your best armored men with spears in the front lines. Spread out across the entire valley floor, and give everyone room to use their slings. You will have the uphill advantage so you should get a few free shots. The enemy don’t all have slings, or at least they didn’t the last time we fought them, so you should be able to hurt them badly before they get close enough for spears. And don’t forget to have the men with the new throwing spears use them before the lines come together. Oh, and don’t be surprised when our fire balls come sailing over your heads.”
The men laughed nervously.
“I will be with the troops on the ridge on this side of the valley,” she said, pointing to the rise on her left. “We will be hidden. I don’t know exactly when we will start slinging stones. We may hit them before they get close to you to slow them down, or wait until right before they charge. Either way, it ought to give them an unpleasant surprise.”
This time the men gave a more reassured laugh.
“Now, quickly, decide which of you are going into the valley and which will go up the sides,” she continued. “I want good slingers on the ridges, but they don’t need to be the best armed and armored troops. We want those in the front of the main force.”
They talked amongst themselves. Hildy saw Nius Tar, the captain who had followed her from Evergreen. She smiled at him, and he returned it with a confident grin. Before long, a small group of captains broke off from the main group and gathered around her while the rest went back to join their men.
“We are leading the units that will fight from the ridges,” announced a stout, long-haired fellow.
“Very well, half of you bring your men with me, and half take your men onto the other ridge,” she told them. “Don’t get too far ahead of the main force. We want to make a nice, three-sided box for the enemy to march into. Try to stay out of sight, and wait until you see my troops stand to deliver a volley before you begin.”
Not long after that, Hildy found herself scrambling up the slope, moving around rocks and through scattered trees and brush, leading about seven hundred and fifty soldiers. When she could take her eyes off the ground before her, she saw her main force moving down into the top of the valley. She looked toward the beach again and saw the enemy was forming into ranks and lining up to face her troops.
“Try to stay under cover,” she shouted to the men around her. “We don’t want them to see us until the last minute.”
She glanced into the valley again a short while later. Her main force, which was slightly ahead of her now, had picked a good spot to stop and defend. They settled themselves into deep ranks that stretched across the floor of the valley, each end anchored by troops that were on the lower slopes of the two ridges. The battle lines were on good ground that sloped gently towards the sea. The valley in front of them was broken by scattered piles of rock, not big enough to give the enemy much cover, but they would break up their lines as they drew near.
She started setting up her own line when she came even with her troops in the valley. She spread the men out, pointing out good spots to hide that still offered a view of the valley below. She finished placing the last of her men, spread out just enough to give each man room to use his sling, and glanced into the valley once more. She was shocked to see the Skulls had passed her by and were nearing her own forces below. She was just in time to watch the first barrage of deadly stones slamming into the enemy.
The screams drifted up to her from the valley floor. She turned and raced to the center of her line of hidden men. She was now just a little behind the last rank of enemy soldiers below. They had come to a halt when the first stones hit them, and stood leaning forward, as if into a stiff wind. She saw men falling. She saw the line of slingers in front of the ranks of spearmen, and realized that their training was causing them to pause in order to send some volleys before the spearmen advanced.
She could see how costly this mistake was. They had never fought an enemy that was using deadly stones instead of wooden balls to sling back at them. And they weren’t expecting an enemy with so many slings. Worst of all for them, their slingers were still out of range. Some officers in the enemy ranks must have realized they needed to do something new. She heard shouts mixed in with the screams, and the lines of spearmen moved forward to advance through the line of slingers even as the slingers tried to move forward into range of the enemy.
Now was the time, she saw at once, while they were all mixed together in a solid mass. She screamed out, “Now, men, forward and send your stones!” They followed her orders, those that were close enough to hear them, and they shouted for those farther along the lines to join them.
Hildy moved forward too, and when her view was clear, she stuck her spear point first into the ground and pulled her sling from her belt. She reached under the flap on her bag of stones and set one in the sling’s pouch, swung the sling a few times and let the stone go. As she reached for another stone, she looked across the valley. She could see men stepping into the open there as well, although the new uniforms made many of them very hard to see.
As she set the next stone in her sling, she happened to glance at the man to her right. She was surprised to see that it was the young boy from Nudge’s home town, one of the former Skull prisoners turned into a member of the resistance army. She couldn’t recall his name. She had a brief doubt about whether or not it was safe for her, the commander of the army, to be fighting so close to a former enemy.
The boy let loose a stone and reached for another. He glanced at her, and saw her looking at him. He smiled brightly and began twirling his sling, letting the stone sail into the crowd of his own people. Was it a coincidence that he had ended up right beside her, she couldn’t help wondering? Shouldn’t he still be on one of the ships? He was a sailor, after all. He glanced at her again. Why was he paying more attention to her than to the battle?
Suddenly his eyes went wide, and he shouted, “No!” He began running towards her. She was startled. Was he going to attack her empty handed? He didn’t even bother to use the sling he still held. But she saw that he was looking past her, and she pivoted around, reaching to grab her spear from where it was stuck into the ground.
Running towards her, only paces away, was another of the former Skull prisoners. It was the spear fighting expert, Arch Storm, and he had his spear pointed directly at her heart. She pulled her spear out of the ground, but it was with her left hand. She dropped the sling from her right hand, but knew, without any doubt at all, that she couldn’t get her spear up in time to sweep aside the thrust. She tied to twist herself sideways to minimize the target, hoping that the man’s speed over uneven footing would make his point miss her. She also began to drop to the ground in a crouching position, hoping to duck under the attack.
It was all happening in slow motion. The big, iron blade was coming at her relentlessly. She could see the gleam on the edges of the blade where he had recently sharpened it. And then, the boy was there, sailing through the air in a leap. His body made it into the ever-shrinking gap between the approaching blade and her own body, and she watched in horror as the blade sunk through the armor and into the flesh of the boy’s chest.
Time returned to normal speed. She finished her movement on one knee. The point of her own spear finished its sweeping ark even as the point of Arch Storm’s spear was dragged down by the weight of the boy’s body impaled upon its tip. She jabbed her spear up, under the ribcage of the man, and her blade found his heart. His eyes rolled back, and his knees went limp, and he fell backwards into a heap on the dusty ground.
She knelt forward, letting go of her spear, and put her hand on the boy’s shoulder. He lay on his side facing away from her, the spear still stuck in his chest. A pool of blood began to fill the hollow space around which his body was curled. He turned his face up to her and looked into her eyes.
“I never trusted him,” he said with the barest of exhalations. “I tried to stay close to you, so I could…”
And then he died.
Pouring My Art Out 