The Battle for Skandia- Character Reaction

37

"Your turn, Will."

"Oh, joy." He took the book, flipping to the page as he scanned the first few words. "And we're back to Nit'zak, or however he pronounces it."

NIT'ZAK, FIELD COMMANDER OF THE TEMUJAI FORCE ATTACKING Will's position, had poured his men into the attack with reckless disregard. Halt raised an eyebrow. As the Kaijin engaged the archers, his lancers and swordsmen hurled themselves against the line of Skandian axmen protecting them.

Nit'zak had sensed that this attack was a final throw of the dice for his commander. If they couldn't break through this time, he knew Haz'kam would order a general withdrawal, unwilling to take further casualties in this campaign. The thought of withdrawal, of failure, was anathema to Nit'zak. He urged his men on now, willing them to break through the Skandian line and destroy the small but highly effective force of archers who sheltered behind it.

"What, is he a sore loser?" Gilan asked, an eyebrow raised. "Don't they have enough land already?"

The ground in front of the Skandian defenses was littered with the bodies of his men and horses. But gradually, they were driving the wild northerners back as their numbers were depleted and the defensive line became more fragile. Dismounted now, the Temujai swarmed up the earth slope, slashing and stabbing with their long-bladed sabers. Grimly, the Skandians fought back.

"Grimly?" Halt shook his head. "Disappointing. I heard Skandians fight with a smile on their face and laugh like there's no tomorrow." Erak rolled his eyes.

"General!" One of his staff grabbed his arm and pointed to a small group of riders angling away from the battle. "The Kaijin are withdrawing."

"Good," Will said.

Nit'zak cursed them as they rode away. Pampered and privileged, he thought. "No, they just don't want to die," Horace pointed out. He knew they regarded themselves as elite members of the Temujai force. Kaijin shooters were excused the dangers of direct combat so they could sit back and pick off enemy commanders in relative safety. The Rangers raised an eyebrow. Now, faced with accurate and deadly return shooting for the first time in their lives, they had broken and deserted him. He made a vow that he would see them all die for their cowardice.

Halt snorted. "You wouldn't get ten feet within them before you were down."

But that would have to wait. Now, he realized, the Skandian archers were launching flight after flight of arrows into the rear ranks of the main attack once more.

Will grinned. "Skandian archers? I thought they knew their enemies." Everyone laughed.

They had to be stopped. The sudden resumption of the deadly volleys could well tip the balance of the battle.

Haz'kam had remarked that his deputy had no sense of the bigger picture when it came to warfare. "Clearly," Arald said. But Nit'zak had an ability that made him a superb tactical commander. He could sense the crucial moment in a battle—the moment when everything hung in the balance and a determined effort from either side could make the difference between victory and defeat. He sensed such a moment now, watching his men struggling with the Skandians, seeing, for the first time, an element of uncertainty in the enemy. He drew his saber from its scabbard and turned to his own personal bodyguard, a half-Ulan of thirty seasoned troopers.

"So he's going to fight?" Halt snorted. "I thought he was going to sit there and watch the whole time."

"Come on!" he yelled, and led them in a charge toward the Skandian line.