Part 30

Greza stood beside Richkurk on top of the hill overlooking the battlefield.  The two armies were facing each other and the number of red and yellow banners outnumbered the black and silver banners of the Company. 

Scouts generally didn’t fight in the front lines during battles.  They’d act as messengers, raiders, skirmishers and sometimes spies.  Today she was a messenger.  It was her job to run back and forth between Richkurk and the Duke. 

“I see you fretting,” Richkurk said.

“I’m not fretting, sir.”

“You are.  It’s not as terrible as it appears.  Look.”

He pointed to where the Company was waiting.  They were in a narrow space between a steep, rocky hill and thick woods.  The enemy wouldn’t be able to bring their entire army to bear and could only attack a little at a time. 

“I see the strategy, sir.  But they still have more men than we do.”

“We’re better trained and equipped.  Quality is what’s important in a battle like this.”

“Yes, sir.”

She heard the distant horns blowing in the enemy army and the long rectangles of infantry began to move forward. 

“Look there!”  He pointed to the far right flank of the enemy. 

She squinted and saw cavalry moving through the woods.  They were going to try to attack Duke Verin’s flank in a surprise maneuver.

“Our men can’t see them from where they are,” Greza said.

“Not at all.  Run to the Duke. Tell him.”

She didn’t waste time in responding or saluting.  She took off running.  She had gotten the position because she was the fastest of the scouts.

And now she used that talent to run as fast as she could to the Duke’s position.  She could see where he was due to the enormous flag that was black and gold. 

She ran through the files of soldiers and past the cannons with their crews hurrying to load their artillery.  Verin’s body guard stopped her until she said the password and then let her through. 

Greza ran up in front of the Duke’s horse and kneeled. 

“Sir,” she said.

“Don’t need to kneel in battle, scout.  Report.”

“Enemy cavalry is moving through the woods and making a wide circle to our left.  They mean to catch us unaware.”

He thought for a moment and then nodded. 

“Thank you, scout.”

A part of her wanted to stay and find out what he planned to do but her sense of duty overpowered her curiosity.

She returned the nod and hurried back up to where Richkurk and a few other scouts were stationed.  They took turns delivering his messages to different units.

Richkurk had his spyglass out.  He sent one runner off to the captain of the artillery to tell him where the highest concentration of enemy guns were. 

The white puffs of gunfire began to erupt along the fronts of the armies.  The delayed sound of their reports floated up to her.  The guns made soft ‘popping’ sounds but when the cannons opened fire they sounded more like a bass drum and a snare drum being struck at once. 

As she watched the gunfire grew in intensity until it was a constant stream of smoke and noise.    

She felt helpless to watch.  She should be down there fighting.  Ox and Burana were down there somewhere.  All she could do was pray they survived.  Her hand reached for her necklace of the symbol of the Divine Light, but it was safe under her breastplate.

“Greza, they’re moving more men to our right flank.  I think that’s where their main push will be.  Go tell the captain down there to bring up reinforcements to counter in case of a breach in the line.” 

Greza nodded and took off running. 

She entered the ranks of the army and passed by hundreds of men and women in the rear waiting for their turn at the front.  As a unit grew tired or took too many casualties they’d fall back and a fresh unit would take its place. 

She saw the fear and nervousness on their faces and wondered if she wore the same expression. 

A cannonball landed ten yards in front of her and the explosion almost knocked her over.  Her ears were ringing and she stumbled to regain her footing, but she kept running.  The brush with death would return later to haunt her dreams like they always did. 

She had to ask around for the captain’s location.  The closer she got to the front, the more chaotic everything became.  Sergeants and officers were running around shouting orders to maintain the line.  Wounded were crawling back toward the medical stations and water was being brought up for the units that were falling back to be replaced. 

The captain was on his horse shouting at two lieutenants and gesturing towards the enemy with both hands. 

“Sir, I have a message from Cpt. Richkurk,” she said.

“Out with it,” the captain shouted without looking at her. He kept his eyes forward.

“Cpt. Richkurk says the enemy’s main push is going to be here.  Be prepared to fill breaches in your lines.”

His head shot toward her.  She couldn’t tell if it was fear or anger in his eyes. 

“Tell Richkurk that we’re already doing what we can to avoid being trampled over.”

She nodded and was about to run back when a surge of yelling and gunfire erupted to her right near the woods.  She looked and saw enemy infantry coming out of the woods and attacking their flanks.  That couldn’t be allowed to happen.  If they rolled up the line from the side, the entire right flank would crumble and the enemy would pour through like a leak in a ship. 

She checked the cestus on her fists and charged in.  She had to blunt their attack to give reinforcements time to stop this. 

Greza charged into the enemy front line where the gunners were using their arquebuses as great clubs.  Some were using their long axes and a few pikemen were running up to the fight. 

It was a general melee, something she excelled at. 

The first enemy she reached had a lance.  She grabbed the end and broke it with her other hand.  Then she rushed up to the enemy soldier and shoved the spear point in his face. 

The enemy soldiers were wearing little armor and what armor they did have looked to be more decorative than useful.  Some had gauntlets and greaves.  Most had round helmets.  Only their officers on horseback had breastplates. 

She charged the next closest enemy and smashed him in the face with her gauntlet before he could raise his gun up to block her. 

A man in yellow armor and wielding a saber rushed her.  She narrowly dodged the downward slash and rewarded the soldier with an elbow to the face. 

One by one she took enemies down.  She’d crush their skulls with her fists, break their arms or smash their knees with well placed kicks. 

Three men at once attacked her with swords, a spear and an axe.  She grabbed the spear, dodged the axe and blocked the sword.  It became a mess of dodging and getting in close so they couldn’t fight back.  They had been trained to keep people at a distance and she had to move in as close as possible to break them apart. 

Then Greza looked around and found that she was alone.  She was surrounded by enemy soldiers with no friendlies in sight. 

She was tempted to curse but she didn’t have time to curse or even think.  She turned around and plunged into the enemies that stood between her and friendly lines. She grabbed men and tossed them into others and eventually found a small cluster of  axe men.  They didn’t have time to reload so they relied on their axes. 

With every army having their own colors it made it easy to determine friend from foe.  She backed up into the friendly circle of axe men and someone patted her on the back.

They fought on, completely surrounded by enemy.       

This was bad.  She wanted to break out and make a run for it, but she couldn’t leave these men here. 

“Who’s in charge?”  She called out. 

“No one!  Our sarge and lieutenant are dead,” someone replied. 

“We have to move back toward our men but we have to move as one!”  She tried to yell over the din of battle.

As her squad struggled to move back toward friendly lines she saw that there were too many enemy reinforcements coming their way.  They had to be stopped or the squad would never make it. 

“I need a volunteer to come with me and hold them off!”  She shouted out.

“I’ll come,” a large man with a crescent axe said.

She jerked her head toward the enemy and he nodded.  He came over and stood behind her. 

“Everyone, make a run for it!” She shouted. 

As the squad broke away and dashed back, she and the large man charged forward. 

She grabbed the nearest enemy’s pike, broke it and moved in on the man.  Before she could land a punch someone else was swinging at her with a curved sword.  She barely managed to dodge and shoulder rammed the swordsman.  He fell back into another soldier and she quickly stomped on his knee, breaking it. 

A spear gashed her shoulder and she ignored it.  She moved to a man with an axe, grabbed the axe before it could swing at her and kneed him in the groin.  He crumpled to the ground and she threw the axe at another soldier, hitting him in the face with the blunt end. 

She didn’t know where the large man was and didn’t have time to worry about him. She was surrounded by enemy soldiers. 

Greza grappled a man, broke his arm and elbowed him in the face.  Another she grabbed by the head and threw him into his own men. 

Suddenly something struck her in the back.  It knocked the wind out of her despite the armor and she landed on her face in the dirt. 

When she flipped over she saw several spear and sword points in her face. 

An Elf officer with a uniform decorated with gold bird icons walked up and squatted down beside her. 

“You fight good, Ork girl,” he said with a barely intelligible accent.  “But now you come with us.”

Even if she hadn’t been too out of breath to even speak, she wouldn’t have a clue what to say. 

She was a prisoner and there was nothing she could do about it.