The men began to move just in time. The slight deviation of their position was enough to take the worst of the sting off the arrow assault, sending most of the projectiles straight into the sandy dirt. But that wasn't to say they were without casualties. A good section of their flank had been scorched, and many a man lay groaning, as he felt for a wound that was jammed with wood.
Those that could run continued to charge. Those that couldn't were forced to be left behind. The archers reloaded, as calm as a deep puddle of water. They hardly seemed to recognize the threat that was right in front of them. It was almost eerie.
"Blackthorn! Crush them!" Oliver said. Lasha was pulling out ahead with her eager men, and the Yorick cavalry was just beginning to work up to their horses' speed, and they were just behind.
Without a word of response, Lasha leaned down to the neck of her horse, and prepared her blade for the first cut of the charge.
