It was quickly impossible to deny – those were archers in the front. Five thousand of them, at least, was what a casual glance told Oliver. The Verna bows were different to what he saw in the Stormfront. Smaller. He hoped that meant they were likely to shoot a shorter distance, but that notion too was denied.
With the twanging of thousands of bowstrings, a cloud of arrows was sent up in the air.
"PULL LEFT!" Karstly said, reacting only now. He pitched his horse left, and the whole army began to wheel with him. It wasn't the most aggressive of direction changes. It couldn't be, not when they were pulling the likes of the carts. But with the distance between themselves and the enemy, it was enough to get them out of the worst of the arrow fire.
