On the Field

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On the Field
There were too many alive to risk a volley. The enemy had prepared for our attack, traps and carefully laid bundles of lumber hindered and slowed our advance. Amidst the darkness, sight of such devices became near impossible from a distance, our efforts only hindered further by the surrounding trees. Behind me, the line of archers stood ready, arrows nocked for our first attack. But before us were more of our soldiers, our shield bearers, men I had fought with for years. I could not betray them with arrow fire, but what other option was there? The enemy cavalry would be upon them at any minute, and then their lives would be forfeit regardless...

"What are your orders, Holden?" Asked Mercy, standing by my side. I looked at her and considered the options before me. We would still have over one hundred warriors for our charge, but without a direct path, trying to push forward with the rams was a fool's errand. This wasn't even mentioning that the cavalry was faster than my foot soldiers, and my archers would have a difficult time hitting them all through the wood. Then again, with how outnumbered our opposition was, we would not need to hit all of them.

"Mercy, how confident are you in a volley?" I asked, turning my attention back to the field of war. My stomach churned as I watched my warriors desperately raise shields against the wave of hooves and steel, futilely trying to fight them off. Amongst the defenders, I could just make out a distinctive shape leading them from the front, one of a fully armored warrior wielding not a spear, but a longsword in his hand. My chest tightened as I realized that Belial had exaggerated his success. Liam O'Carrick was alive, twice now his death had been a lie, and both times the lie had come from those I had trusted.

"Two, maybe three warriors. If the enemy is wise, they will leave them behind." Replied Mercy. Two or three, that was enough to disrupt them should they decide to pull back. Every soldier counted on their side, much more the few with battlefield experience. Besides, with Liam most certainly alive, I could count on him leading these warriors. While I may have had my concerns and questions about master Apollyon, I knew she was right on at least one thing. Liam was a noble warrior, too noble for his own good.

"Liam is leading those warriors, he won't leave them." I said aloud. Holding up a hand, I held for a moment as I watched the first skirmish conclude. In the distance I could hear a voice, Liam's voice, too quiet over the sounds of battle to distinguish, but ever so clearly his. I could just see him twirling his sword in the air, calling his soldiers to him as he turned and spurred his horse into a sprint back to the fortress. Not even a single moment had he taken to celebrate his success, time had not changed my old friend. Before long the first of his warriors followed his lead, and I knew it was time. With a single motion I ordered our archers to fire, and within seconds witnessed a torrent of arrows fly through the cracks in the trees.

The scene of battle quickly turned sour for the defenders as the first of the arrows landed. One unfortunate rider was riddled with enough shots to resemble a pincushion, both he and his horse screaming out in agony as they fell over. The horse landed with a thud atop his rider, both dead in an instant. Another rider avoided the arrows himself, but was flung violently forward as the horse collapsed and fell forward, the victim of several arrows lodging into its hind legs and rear. The soldier flew until he collided with the ground head first, his neck and back twisting in a sickening and unnatural motion that left him limp, and unmoving.

The third was Liam himself, or so I thought at first. He mostly avoided the arrows at first, but a single stray shot landed just close enough his horse, striking it in the side and sending it rearing back. I know not whether his grip on the reins was too loose, or if he was weak from his recovery of Belial's duel, or some unseen third factor, but Liam was thrown from the horse. Even from a distance, however, I could see him land on his side, rolling with the impact and landing face down, on his hands and knees. Before he had a chance to rise, the horse ran into the forest, spooked and clearly caring not for its master as it abandoned him.

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