"About a hundred of the Isnumurti have come out of the forest," Jerimias shouted from tower window. Delger and Gerhart raced back up the tower. Jerimias stepped aside and let Delger peer through the looking glass.
"It is a mixed unit," Delger reported. "Lances, swords, arrows. I count around eighty. All on foot."
"Eighty on foot?" Gerhart asked. "We should run through them with our cavalry."
"The Isnumurti have lances against your horses," Delger warned. "You need a mixed response. Archers for their spearmen, cavalry for their archers, and infantry to meet them head on."
"Nonsense, not for eighty," Gerhart said. "There's the element of morale, Captain. We crush them with a single wave of our horses and they'll think better of creeping into our borders again. Our cavalry is well trained and fearsome. They're not quite like your Winged Spears but they're still New Hearth's best heavy units."
"Alas if my Spears were here with me and not back at the Gildemanse, I would take the enemy in one wave as you say," Delger said. "Summon them to the field and I will meet you there."
"You aren't leading them," Gerhart said. "They're New Hearth soldiers, not the king's cavalry. They wouldn't understand your orders. And you wouldn't understand them."
"I am still a royal captain, sworn to defend all of the king's realms," Delger said. "If not me, whom will you have lead them?"
Gerhart opened a cabinet to reveal a full suit of plate armor. "I told you that I do this for my daughters. I will lead the cavalry."
"New Hearth is without a lord," Delger said. "As castellan you are the sitting lord until the King places a new one. I do not question your ability sir, but you need remember your own duty to lead and govern."
"The old lord of New Hearth was the great uncle to Padrig the Black," Gerhart said. "When the old lord died, the king was to name his successor since the old lord had no issue. Then the Black died, and then it was the Gold that took the throne. I suppose you know better than most of how the Republic felt about being ruled by a six year old boy. He's ten now, I know. I know because I've ruled New Hearth for the last four years. Without a lord. I know how to lead my people, Captain Delger."
"Bring a mixed force, sir," Delger said. "I will see you on the field".
"Very well," Gerhart nodded. "Fargod be with you."
Delger left the castellan and the tower. His temporary quarters were just on the edge of the training grounds, as he wanted to sleep near the stables and his horse. The makeshift quarters were nothing more than a pitched tent with only a cot and a chest. From the chest he retrieved his ring mail and breast plate. He had not had to dress himself without his own squire since he had left the Gildemanse. After he dressed, he strapped on his sword and visited the stables. He patted his red destrier and loaded her up with a saddle. One of the soldiers brought him his helm.
He felt naked without his spear. He felt alone without his thousand strong cavalry. Yet he felt at home on top of his horse. He rode out to the field to meet the gathering infantrymen. The New Hearth heavy cavalry had still not made the field.
Delger rode his red horse in front of the New Hearth soldiers. He surveyed them and there were no recognizable faces. "How many of you stout few took the field with me when we pushed the Isnumurti back into the Purge?"
None answered.
"Well good news at last!" Delger exclaimed. "For the next time I ask this, all of you can raise your hands. We will push them back again. Follow your commander and reclaim your borders!"
About forty heavy cavalry soon trampled on to the field, all of its riders in full plate mail, swords and shields. Even the horses were armored. Gerhart led them, wearing a cloak with the New Hearth colors of red and gray. His shield bore the symbol of two trees and a flame between them. He raised his visor and his sword to the soldiers and they cheered back.
"That is an impressive beast that bears you," Gerhart said to Delger as he rode near. "Destriers are indeed rare out in our parts. Does it have a name?"
"I've called her the Red Mare since she was a foal," Delger said. "Her mother had the same blessed name."
"I'm glad we are able to ride together," Gerhart said. "Let's begin."
He waved his sword and a horn sounded for the advance. Gerhart kicked his courser and trotted toward the band of Isnumurti. The cavalry rode out at the same steady pace til they almost reached the edge of the forest, far from the walls of New Hearth. They could hear the slow beat of a single drum.
"We should ride this deep, sir," Delger said over the march of hooves.
"This is as far as they come," Gerhart said. "I will allow them the comfort of the forest behind them, if they need to flee. Look, they already send a bargainer."
A lone unarmed Isnumurti soldier in black leather approached the Aredunians. The beating of the single drum stopped. His full black helm had the painted mask of a dead face. "Come with me Captain," Gerhart said. The two rode to meet the soldier.
"What do you want, other than certain death?" Gerhart asked.
The soldier removed his helm. He had no hair on his head nor any eyebrows. His face was covered with a white powder. "The city," he said in a strange accent. "For the city this one will pay a fair price. Also all the people in the city. For all the people this one will pay a fairer price."
"Oh the price you pay will be fair," Gerhart replied. "The blood of every one of you will stain the bark of the trees to warn any of your kind against coming to our country again."
"The Spring God is merciful," the messenger said. "Yield the city and this one will let peace be to your people. This one will bring treasure to you and your people. No one need die."
"All of you need die," Gerhart snapped. "You come to speak of peace with a mask painted of death. No, you will rue the day you thought of passing through that wretched forest. Brace yourselves for your end. That is the price you'll pay."
The soldier put on his dead face mask and ran back to his unit. Gerhart and Delger galloped back to theirs.
"The cavalry will take a tight melee formation and move first," Gerhart said.
"Your infantry is new," Delger said. "Who's in command of them while you lead the vanguard?"
"You're right," Gerhart nodded. He lowered his visor. "I give the command of the infantry to you, Captain Delger. Let us have a pass at them first before you march."
Gerhart called the heavy cavalry to him. They pointed their swords forward and formed a tight line. The castellan shouted an order and they started toward the Isnumurti. The enemy's drum had started again, but at a quicker beat.
"The horses are too close together," Delger said.
The Isnumurti soldiers formed three lines of their own. The first line knelt on one knee and held out their swords in one hand and daggers with the other. The second line stood still with javelins. The third line formed their archers. They all wore armor of black cloth and black boiled leather, white bones painted on the armor.
When the cavalry sped up, the drums stopped. The Isnumurti archers fired a volley toward them. The the arrows bounced off the armor of both men and horses, but it had served its purpose as the charging horses started to lose alignment. Gerhart shouted to stay in formation and as they tried to catch up the horses started bumping into each other. A couple of men dropped their swords.
The thunder of the hooves on the trampled mud echoed through the field. The closer the men charged the louder they shouted.
"Forward," Delger told the infantry.
When the cavalry charged in front of the Isnumurti, one Isnumurti soldier from each end of the front line pulled on the ends of a single rope until it was taut. Multiple small explosions cracked before the horses, creating a wall of black smoke. The sound startled the horses and they became lost in the charge. Some horses ran away. Others circled in confusion or reared, dropping their riders to the ground. The Isnumurti launched their javelins at exposed horses while the swordsmen rushed to the fallen men, too burdened by the full plate armor to stand. The Isnumurti soldiers thrust their daggers between the plates into the ribs or the neck of the fallen riders.
"Halt the march, stay here," Delger said to the infantrymen as he rode the Red Mare alone toward the battle.
"To me! To me!" Gerhart could be heard calling. He raised his sword into the air while his armored horse spun around. He blocked an arrow with the swipe of his sword and parried a javelin. A second arrow pierced the unarmored exposure below his arm and the shock caused him to drop his sword. Another arrow struck his horse. Gerhart fell and an Insnumurti swordsman cut at the horse's legs. The horse fell and fell on top of Gerhart.
"No," Delger said from a distance.
The swordsman in black stood over Gerhart. He howled and others howled with him like wolves.
"Archers!" Delger cried. "Archers! Take down that soldier!"
There were no archers around him. The New Hearth soldiers were all scattered across the field. He turned the Red Hare toward the castellan. Maybe there was time to get to him, he thought.
The soldier lifted Gerhart's visor and plunged a dagger into his face. Dark blood pooled and sputtered onto the polished plate armor.