The Fireseed Wars

II

Hestophes ordered the Mobile Force to halt. They were now close enough to the Varthon Creek to see the enemy's main force through the trees and brush. The stream bed, according to his scouts, was three or four rods down below the grassy bank. From his position, he was unable to see the creek, but he could hear the volley discharges of smoothbores and the occasional artillery shot as Phrames kept the nomad army on the other side of the stream at bay from behind his wagon lager.

The Urgothi nomads on this side of the Varthon were disordered, with some running toward the ford while others maneuvered along the top of the bank to defend against the Hostigi force that had just arrived. To him they appeared to resemble a den of rattlesnakes that had been disturbed by a plow.

"Errock, I want you to take your lancers and the King's Horse regiments and hit the tribesmen on the bank like a hammer. I'll set the dragoon arquebusiers to either flank and place the Hostigi Rifles and pikemen in the center. I want to push the nomads down the bank and into the creek, where they'll be caught between us and Phrames' forces."

"What about prisoners?"

"Kill anything that moves until I order otherwise! I want to teach these tribesmen a lesson."

"Yes, sir." Captain-General Errock turned and gave orders to form up his cavalry, while Hestophes ordered his dragoons to fall back. He ordered the remaining Mobile Force cavalry to divide and go down both sides of the stream about a half march to outflank the nomads and keep them bottled up. More of the enemy, mounting up and screaming war cries, were pouring out of the trees and shrubs at the top of the bank. Soon several hundred nomads were riding furiously toward the Hostigi when Errock gave the order to charge and the trumpets sounded.

Errock had formed his cavalry into three lines of about five companies each, with his own lancers at the fore holding aloft the Thagnor banner of a red bull's head on a green field over the maroon keystone of the Royal Hostigos Army. The earth started to rumble as the first line began its charge. The nomads appeared startled, craning their necks to the left and to the right, only to find a line of mixed musketeers and arquebusiers at either flank.

The next line of Hostigi heavy horse started their charge. More nomads were coming, many mounted and some on foot, pouring through the trees and over the stream bank, but they appeared hesitant about where to go-many were shouting and milling about. A few shots rang out and some of the horse archers began to fire arrows. Then the final line of men-at-arms began their charge.

This is going to be like spearing fish in a barrel, thought Hestophes.

Suddenly, like an irresistible wave, the first line of Thagnor lancers smashed into the Urgothi horsemen. Nomads were thrown backwards and to the ground as the lances hit home. The more lightly armed and poorly-armored nomads and their small horses were clearly overmatched. A moment later the first line of Hostigi horse rode over the bank and down to the stream. The tribesmen were completely disordered and were starting to scatter, but there was no place to escape to as the Mobile Force dragoons began to fire into their flanks from both sides. The remaining Mobile Force cavalry were emplaced along the river both downstream and upstream, leaving the nomads nowhere to go except down the bank and into Phrames' arms.

The second line of heavy horse ran through the disordered nomads as if they were made of Kalvan's early batches of paper. The third line of horse had already slowed to a walk as there was no more substantial opposition. Suddenly thousands of tribesmen poured over the banks, riding pell-mell in every direction to escape the slaughter. The third line of Hostigi heavy horse, only a few hundred paces away, charged again and smashed into the routing nomads like an avalanche of steel and horseflesh.

The heavy men-at-arms rode over their opponents and down the bank to the stream bed, out of Hestophes' sight, but bringing a world of pain to the nomads. The screams of dying men and wounded horses ripped the air. Hestophes marched the Mobile Force riflemen and pikemen up to within thirty paces of the disordered tribesmen and ordered his men into formation.

"All ranks, fire!" he cried.

The first volley cleared the area of anyone, chest-high or taller, who wasn't hiding behind a tree or scrambling over the bank. The ground was littered with dead and dying men and horses. As they marched forward, he ordered the Rathoni auxiliaries to cut the throats of all the wounded men and animals. Next, he ordered the dragoons, riflemen at the fore, to the top of the bank.

The sight that met his eyes was one out of Regwarn's Caverns of the Dead. The stream was filled with dead and dying nomads and the water was streaked with red ribbons of blood and gore. Some of Phrames' men were still facing the creek, but most were receiving an attack from the war band of horsemen who'd been chasing them.

Hestophes signaled his trumpeter and gave the order to charge. The Hostigi cavalry, not actively fighting the nomads on this side of the creek, formed ranks and moved across the ford to support Phrames' force.

About half the nomads on Hestophes' side of the stream were dead or wounded, while the rest were throwing down their weapons and raising their helmets and fur caps in surrender.

He watched as the Hostigi heavy horse forded the stream and regrouped behind Phrames' wagon laager. It took less than a sixteenth of a candle to open the laager and let the Hostigi loose on the milling nomads on the other side of the creek. Having seen their allies routed and defeated, the nomads showed their true colors. The "army" that had been harrying Prince Phrames for the past half moon was suddenly in full flight with the Hostigi heavy horse and the Thagnori lancers in pursuit. The Hostigi wouldn't stop until either every horse was blown or every nomad was dead or captured.

Uncle Wolf Ramakros, wearing a shirt of finely linked mail and a wolfskin hood topped with a ruby-eyed wolf head, came over to where Hestophes was watching the fight. Uncle Wolfs, when not treating the wounded, were responsible for parleys and watching over captives and prisoners. "Captain-General, what are you going to do with all of these prisoners? I see at least five thousand prisoners here and no telling how many the other defeated war band will provide once your cavalry returns."

"You echo my own worries, Uncle Wolf. We don't need the nomads or want to provide for them as prisoners of war. If we take them captive, we'll have to feed and house them through the winter, which would defeat the purpose of our buffalo hunt."

The gray-headed Uncle Wolf shrugged his shoulders. "Are you sure, Hestophes? It occurs to me that your Great King has paroled far too many of the Thagnori soldiers and that His Majesty is running short of laborers for wall-building and his earthworks projects."

"A good point, Uncle Wolf. We can bring back about three thousand of the strongest to Thagnor City as laborers and parole the others. The fate of the prisoners will keep their clansmen true to their oaths."

"You don't have to worry about oath-breaking among the Urgothi," Uncle Wolf Ramakros said. "They're not civilized yet and haven't learned to dissemble. They will keep their oaths. You may even be able to use some of them as auxiliaries next spring. It will be a long time before they risk their lives for Theovacar's promises again. Once word of this debacle spreads, the Grefftscharrer King may find it hard to replace them. These barbarians are uncouth, but they're not stupid."