Men on both sides fall to the lethal rain. Infantryman and archer alike collapse, crying out in pain. Soldiers die by the dozens.
[Regimentation]
Your disciplined retinue is able to coordinate the defense. They raise and interlock their shields, beckoning those around them to do the same. The rebels, now only two hundred yards away, do the same. Your constant stream of bolts and arrows has forced the enemy to slow their advance. Yet still, they continue on.
The cavalrymen of both sides remain untouched by these new volleys. The archers focus on the vulnerable, lightly armored infantry instead. At the same time, the enemy cavalry on your left continues to circle around.
You give your next set of orders.
Darin conveys your order to the rest of the army.
You continue to watch the battle unfold as the archers take their devastating toll on both armies. Already, hundreds of men are dead or dying. The infantry haven't even crossed blades yet.
Hundred yards out.
Still the arrows fall. The enemy archers have stopped advancing, holding a position roughly two-and-a-half-hundred yards away. From there, they may continue to rain down arrows, even after the lines meet.
You can make out several armored figures, riding atop horses, holding position behind the archers. Rade.
Fifty yards out.
The rebels leave a trail of the dead behind them. Not that your line is faring much better, though. Your own dead are beginning to pile high.
The group of enemy riders across from your right halt, maintaining their position a hundred yards from your own.
Twenty-five.
Above the chaos and death, you can hear a man bellow, "Here they come!" Men shout and scream at the approaching enemy.
Arrows continue to fall.
Ten.
You take a deep breath.
Five.
Time slows to a crawl as the lines near each other. Thousands of men, high on adrenaline, bellow and curse. Shields rise. Blades and spears flash.
Then finally, the two great hosts of the civil war collide.
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