The Crown of blood

II

From a bluff overlooking the battle, Ullsaard was pleased with what he saw. I'll teach you to patronise me, you old fart, he thought. Nemtun had come running for Narun like a child chasing a ball; straight into Ullsaard's army waiting for him a day's march from the city. Donar and the Fifth had been given a chance to redeem themselves, making a forced march to coldwards before swinging in between Nemtun's army and the Wall, cutting off their retreat. Giving Nemtun no time to turn his legions against Donar, Ullsaard had ordered eight of his remaining legions on a full attack, keeping only one back in case of some disastrous turn of events. The kolubrid riders had pinned the enemy in place with their bellows-bows, their heavy arrows forcing the opposing companies to form into defensive circles, shields raised against the attack while the infantry closed for the kill.

There had been a couple of dubious moments. Nemtun's lavathowers and spear thowers had been gathered in one place for the march and once set up they had reaped a bloody and burning toll of the Twelfth on the right flank. Jutiil had pushed his men on into the storm of the war machine fire taking heavy casualties, but had eventually overrun the enemy position.

Nemtun had also feigned a retreat on his right, dragging the Thirteenth and Second Magilnadan ahead of the rest of the army, which allowed Nemtun to turn his centre to attack them. This exposed the legions in the centre of the enemy line, but if Nemtun had broken through he would have turned the whole flank. The Thirteenth had done Ullsaard proud, holding even after the raw men from Magilnada had started to fall back, giving Ullsaard time to move his own central phalanxes to relieve the pressure.

When this gambit had failed, Nemtun had pulled back his attacking regiments and was now resetting his line on a ridge to coldwards. One legion had been left a quarter of a mile ahead of the main army; Ullsaard felt sorry for the poor soldiers in that vanguard, sacrificed to buy time for the other legions to withdraw towards the Wall.

Nemtun's army started to turn away, heading dawnwards away from the battle. Ullsaard could see the covered wagons and ailur-riding officers of Nemtun's staff at the head of the retreating column. The king's brother would be on one of the carts, no doubt shouting at the drivers to whip the abada as fast as they could.

"Fuck that," said Ullsaard, turning to his messengers. "I'm not letting him get away. Send word to Jutiil. Full march to engage the enemy before they reach the road. Tell him to keep Nemtun busy until the rest of us catch up. Everyone else is to concentrate on the rearguard. I want them dead in half an hour. Remind my captains that every man that escapes will be fighting them again at the Wall. That should hurry them up."

As the messengers rode away, Ullsaard swung himself up into Blackfang's saddle. It was time to hammer home the advantage.