“Are you sure Captain Kommidi can keep the Palmerrio cavalry off the flanks of the army?” Prince Phillip asked clearly worried. His mother’s health was flagging. Doctor Linkler felt it was mostly fatigue brought on by the constant stress of warfare, but Phillip believed it had more to do with the loss of Eno. She loved the city and he wanted to see her home as quickly as possible.
Bock frowned. “He’ll have to…but I think they’re up to the job.”
“Just having them present will keep at least part of the Palmerrio cavalry busy watching for our own flanking maneuver,” Gwaynn said.
“And we’re sure King Weldon is with his army?” Krys asked.
“We’re sure,” Monde and na Gall said in unison.
“Let’s make camp down below,” Gwaynn said, then almost to himself added. “One battle…this must be over in one battle. We can’t let the Palmerrio run amok on the Plateau. We need to end this so we can concentrate on the Temple Knights.”
Everyone was silent for a long moment. They were all aware of the pressure Captain Marcum was under at Lynndon, and there were reports coming in that the Temple Knights were scouting Manse. If either position fell, the country of Massi would be nearly impossible to hold and if that happened, Gwaynn and his army would be forced to flee into the mountains and become rebels. The fight with the Palmerrio must be finished quickly and decisively. They could not hold out long against three threats to the Plateau, especially when one of the armies array against them was the Temple Knights.
They were alone, and the final outcome was going to be decided in the next few days.
ǂ
‘We’re losing the Plateau,’ Captain Marcum thought in a panic as more and more Deutzani troops poured up the Scar to face them. Arrows were flying rapidly into the enemy soldiers but with little apparent effect. The Deutzani soldiers on the top of the ridge hastily formed a shield wall against the missiles and the wall was growing stronger by the moment. Marcum knew he had to attack with his remaining foot soldiers; they had to attack right now…or all was lost. He’d put off the final charge as long as possible, hoping that Gaston would show and relieve the pressure, but it was nearly ten in the morning and so far there was no sign of the cavalry. Marcum glanced at Sergeant Birdsong and nodded.
“Prepare!” the Sergeant yelled louder than his Captain would have thought possible, and the men around him quickly came ready. There were precious few infantrymen left, less than three hundred in all.
“Charge!”
There was no hesitation even though most of the men and women present realized that they were badly outnumbered and had little chance of victory.
The Massi infantry shouted in defiance and lifted their halberds and in one coordinated movement, charged the Deutzani shield wall. The two groups hit with massive force and for a moment it appeared that the Massi might actually break the Deutzani line in spots, but after giving slightly, the heavy infantry of the enemy began to push back. Almost immediately the more heavily armored Deutzani began taking a heavy toll on the lightly armored Massi halberdiers.
Captain Marcum was near the centerline, surrounded by Massi infantry soldiers, and was soon so embroiled in the hand to hand fighting that he was unaware of anything but his immediate surroundings. The battle quickly fell into chaos and his total being was swallowed up in the fighting. He attacked, parried and fought with the enemy closest to him with no thought for anything else. He killed one, two…and then three men and silently praised Gwaynn and his heavy training weapons. Marcum knew he was getting old and that his speed was slowly seeping away, but thanks to Gwaynn’s training, he actually believed his strength was growing. His strength, when coupled with his vast experience, made him a deadly opponent, a fact that the Deutzani soldiers around him were quickly learning.
But the Deutzani now heavily outnumber the remaining Massi and the Captain was suddenly facing a pair of enemy soldiers. The two men pitted against him fought aggressively and were utterly intent on killing him quickly but their movements were sluggish and he could tell that they were tiring, and that surprised him. Marcum fought back with a vengeance and held off their uncoordinated first assault.
‘How long have I been fighting?’ He wondered, but had no definitive answer. He was growing weary, but was far from exhausted.
The soldier on the right lunged but it was an obvious feint. Marcum pretended to react to the move and then thrust out quickly with his left kali and sliced through the midsection of the man on the left as he foolishly moved in for the easy kill. Marcum pulled and twisted his weapon free and the man fell to the ground with a howl. Once unencumbered, Marcum spun to face the remaining soldier. The man was large, grim-faced and dirty, and he circled the Massi Captain warily. Marcum was thankful for the time to rest as the man vied for position. He risked a quick look around and his heart fell. The Plateau was flooded with Deutzani, and the ranks of the Massi were critically thin. Off to his right, Marcum saw Sergeant Birdsong fall to a group of three Deutzani soldiers, but then he had to quickly backpedal from the man before him. The large man pressed his attack, hoping to capitalize on the Captain’s divided attention.
But Marcum flipped his wrist and turned the man’s blade harmlessly away. He countered but his own movements were slowing and his attack was also knocked aside.
“You’ve fought well, but the Massi are finished,” the Deutzani said breathing heavily. Marcum made no reply and attacked again as another Deutzani soldier began moving his way. Marcum continued to fight but he knew that his life would undoubtedly be over in a matter of moments.
He slashed through the forearm of the soldier who spoke, just as another; younger and taller Deutzani pressed in and began attacking ferociously. Marcum held off the assault, barely, just as another soldier waded in. Now there were three against him though one was fighting with a single arm. They all attacked in unison and Marcum backpedaling quickly away. His arms were slowly giving out and he knew he could not long hold off the flashing blades flying at him.
‘We’ve lost the Plateau,’ he thought again, resigned to defeat, but then an arrow suddenly appeared in the tall man’s chest. Surprised, the three men facing the Captain all came to a sudden stop though clearly only one was wounded. Marcum wasted no time and rushed forward. He stabbed the wounded man through the neck, spun and hacked off another’s right arm at the elbow. The man fell to his knees screaming and the final man backed away. Marcum removed the head of the screaming enemy and was just turning on the lone survivor when the enemy took a halberd through the back. Darby, a Massi archer even older than Marcum, just grinned and then spit.
“We can’t hold,” Marcum said his voice thick with despair.
Darby frowned. “We can,” he answered as a half a dozen Massi halberdiers and eight archers rushed over to their position. Without waiting for orders, the archers launched several volleys at the closest enemy and for the first time since the battle began Marcum realized the Deutzani were retreating back down the Scar.