Ranger's Apprentice: Alex + The Burning Bridge (Discontinued)

Cavalry Attack

From his command position at the center of his army, Morgarath watched the apparent confusion in the King's forces. Horses galloping back and forth, men were turning where they stood. Shouts and cries drifted across the plain to the army of Rain and Night.

Morgarath stood in his stirrups. Alex was next to his horse on her tip toes so that he doesn't choke her with her oak leaf necklace, and also to see what was going on but she can't see.

In the far distance, Morgarath could see movement on the ridge to the north of the Kingdom's army. Men were forming up and moving forward. He strained his eyes more clearly. That was the direction from which he expected Horth to appear, but the rising dust kicked up by all the movement made it difficult to see details. 

Although the bulk of Morgarath's forces were the Wargals, whose minds and bodies had been enslaved to his own will, the Lord of Rain and Night was surrounded by a small coterie of men whom he had allowed to retain their own powers of thought and decision. Renegades, criminals and outcasts, they came from all over the country. evil always attracts its own and Morgarath's inner circle was, to a man, pitiless, black-hearted and depraved. All, however, were capable warriors and depraved. All, however, were capable warriors and most were cold-blooded killers.

One of them now rode to Morgarath's side.

"My lord!" he cried, a smile opening on his face, "the barbarians are behind Duncan's forces! They're attacking now!"

Morgarath smiled back at the young man. His eyes were renowned for their keenness. "You're sure?" he asked, in his thin, flat voice. The black-clad lieutenant nodded confidently. 

"I can make out their ridiculous horned helmets and their round shields, my lord. No other warriors carry them."

This was the truth. While some of the kingdom's forces did use round bucklers, the Skandians' shields were enormous affairs, made of hardwood studded with metal. They were over a meter in diameter and only the huge Skandians, heavily muscled from rowing their wolfships across the winter seas, could bear such heavy shields in a battle for any length of time.

"Look, my lord!" the young man continued."The enemy are turning to face them!"

Alex listened picturing what it looked like in her head by what they are saying.

And so they appeared to be. The front ranks of the army facing them were now milling in confusion and turning about. The shouting and noise rose in pitch. Morgarath looked to his right, and saw the small hill where the King's standard marked the enemy command post. Mounted figures were pointing, facing the north.

He smiled once more. Even without the forces from across the Fissure bridge, his plan would be successful. He had Duncan's forces trapped between the hammer of the Skandians and the anvil of his own Wargals.

"Advance," he said softly. Then, as the bugler beside him didn't hear the words, he turned, his face expressionless, and whipped the man across the face with his leather-covered steel riding crop.

Alex gasped then threw a hand over her mouth. Morgarath turned to her and growled. She growled back. 

"Sound the advance," he repeated, no more loudly than before. The bugler, ignoring the the agony of the whip cut and the blood that poured down his forehead and into his eye, raised a horn to his lips and blew an ascending scale of four notes.

Along the lines of the Wargal army, company commanders stepped forward, one every hundred meters. They raised their curved swords and called the first few sounds of the Wargal cadence. Like a mindless machine, the entire army took up the chant immediately, this one set at a slow jog pace, and began to move forward.