The Chronicles of Eriuna

[Ayzek]

"Dogs!" Sinead barked. He'd heard stories of the Lanlanians' turtle formation, but didn't expect it to be this effective. Despite holding a defensive position on higher ground, his army had barely made a dent in the Lanlanians, who were slowly but certainly making their way up the slope. The Lanlanian formations, each an individual block marching side by side nearly in sync, were distributed into three waves and covered much of the valley. He needed only to survive the three waves and the Lanlanians were likely to retreat.

"Keep pressing!" he commanded. With their momentum, his lighter troops were nonetheless pushing the heavy Lanlanians back. "Give them not a single moment's respite!" His troops responded, letting free another piercing battle cry as they smashed again, shields-first, into the Hostmen. The Lanlanians buckled beneath them and steadily backed down the hill.

In some parts of the battlefield, the Lanlanian front line had already began to disappear, fatigued Hostmen slipping through gaps in the second wave's formation. The second wave, composed of more experienced troops, was fresh and turned the tides somewhat, slowing the Phortainese advance. Their tactical retreat still continued and the Phortainese followed, emboldened by their apparent victory over the Lanlanian Hosts.

And that's when another horn echoed down the valley, this time from the direction of the mountains.

Sinead spun to face it immediately, identifying it easily as the same tune the Lanlanians used to first order an advance. And, indeed, weaving out of the forest to his right and making a beeline for his position was a band of Lanlanian light cavalry. "You!" Sinead shouted, at the commander of his cavalry. "Stop them!"

"Aye!" the commander responded, "horsemen, with me!" He urged his horse into a quick gallop and rushed towards the wedge thundering towards his king.

"Oooaahh!" The Phortainese cavalry shouted, storming after their commander.

"King!" Sinead whirled around again and saw an officer pointing over the mass of men and blood in the valley. "Another cavalry detachment has left the Lanlanian line. They're trying to flank us." Sinead watched for a moment, tracking the new formation as it trotted towards the edge of the Lanlanian formations to go around it. How did the Lanlanians have so many horses? He'd committed his entire cavalry to the right, and it was clear he was still outnumbered.

"Take half the reserves and hold them back," Sinead commanded. "Their center is weak, and if we can break it, we've won."

"Aye! Spears, with me!" The commander and half of the men that still remained behind the Phortainese main line jogged towards the left, following the slope down to the edge of the formation. Though on their feet, their spears would give them some chance against the horsemen. If they could keep the cavalry back long enough, victory was theirs.

The sound of another horn, its deep rumbling originating from behind the Lanlanian center, made their spirits fall. It was immediately followed by crescendoing chants from the Lanlanian line. "Røn vel. Røn vel! Røn vel! RØN VEL!! RRØØNN VEELLL!! FR DAN KÏN!!"

As the Lanlanian second wave completely smashed into the fray, the Phortainese began to gave way. To make matters worse, both detachments Sinead sent to intercept the Lanlanian cavalry were being overwhelmed. There were simply too many of them.

"King!"

The very last sound Sinead heard was a steady pounding of the earth quickly become deafening.