Ivaroth trotted towards him, but the boy did not rise.
Yet he was shrieking more than ever. And wriggling.
Ivaroth frowned and slowed his horse to a walk. When he reached the boy he saw that both of his arms were embedded in the ground up to the elbow. At his back, he heard the blind man breathing; an unholy descant to the boy's frantic screaming.
Ivaroth clenched his teeth. Sport was sport, but the relish the old man took from such deeds disturbed him at a depth within himself that he could not fathom.
Drawing his sword, he finished the terrified boy with a single stroke.
'Your noise is frightening my horse, boy,’ he said as he did the deed, lest it be misconstrued as an act of compassion. But his mouth was dry.
Then his army moved forward again. Freed at last from the narrow constraints of the mountains, they spread out across the wide fields like a river reaching a delta.
As a further demonstration of his insight as Mareth Hai, Ivaroth had led the journey through the final valley personally, allowing none of the scouts to go ahead.
'None will oppose us. This is our destiny,’ he said, in answer to the concern of his advisers. ‘Have I not told you repeatedly that their men will be elsewhere?'
Now, to confirm this prophecy, he sent a few scouts ahead to find the village the woman had spoken of. His confidence infected everyone and the tribes’ entry into this new land was like the return of a successful hunting party rather than the first intrusive steps of an invading army. Besides, had they not completed the greatest journey in the history of all the plains’ people? Nothing now could stand against them.
Over the next few hours the leisurely, walking hooves and wheels of Ivaroth's army fouled the quiet stream resting in its dell and trampled the bodies of Magret and her son beyond all recognition.
It was late morning when a scout returned to Ryllans with the news that a Bethlarii force was leaving the camp.
'Three battalions of infantry and a few dozen riders,’ Ryllans said, echoing the scout's message. The Bethlarii's response made sense: the terrain was unsuitable for large scale cavalry action and three battalions was a substantial enough force to engage almost any opposition in the relatively narrow confines of the valley. The riders would be there perhaps as advance scouts, skirmishers maybe, or, more likely, as messengers, and, judging by the speed at which the force had been mobilized, reinforcements from the camp would not be slow in arriving if needed.
'They must have been preparing to move, after all, to be able to put so many men in the field so quickly,’ Arwain said, speaking to the same thought. ‘We were right to attack when we did.'
Ryllans nodded and glanced up at the watery sun. It was impossible to say how long it would be before Ibris's army arrived. All they could do now was hold until there was a serious risk of their being overrun. There would be no easy decisions this day.
Without any further debate he and Arwain moved to their respective posts to advise their officers of the news and to confirm the tactics to be adopted.
The archers were to play the major part in slowing the Bethlarii column. During and since their integration into the Serens’ army, the Mantynnai had made many quiet changes to traditional weapons and tactics, and among these was the adoption of a larger, more powerful bow, and the training of men in its use.
It was said that the archers were a truly formidable force now, but today was the first time they were to be tested in a major conflict.
Firing from such cover as the valley sides offered, the first platoon launched its arrow storm-one, two, three volleys-into the advancing column. The effect was immediate as the heavy iron-tipped arrows penetrated stout leather breast-plates and, to a lesser extent, the more robust leather shields.
The soft winter silence that filled the valley, broken menacingly by the hissing flights of Serens’ arrows, began to be rent open by the sounds of wounded men screaming as they struck home.
The column came to a hasty and ragged halt and the archers maintained their fire until the Bethlarii regrouped, threw up a shield wall and sent their own archers forward to reply. However, their bows having a lesser range than the Serens’ and their target being smaller and more dispersed, the Bethlarii archers had little serious effect until a shield wall was provided which enabled them to move further forward.
At the same time, two groups of Bethlarii infantry separated from the main column and began moving up the valley sides with the intention of out-flanking the Serens.
These, in their turn, found themselves under fire from other archers and were obliged to retreat hastily.
For a long time the Serens succeeded in holding the Bethlarii column.
After a while, however, the flanking Bethlarii suddenly split into smaller groups and with a great roar charged forward to pursue the archers at speed. Small targets now, and moving quickly, they were too difficult for the archers to pin down, or even seriously delay.
The suddenness of the manoeuvre took the archers by surprise and many were slow in responding.
Arwain heard Ryllans catch his breath as they lay in their distant vantage watching the scene. ‘Move, move, move,’ he whispered to himself urgently. ‘They're fit, fast, and angry. Move!'
And in confirmation of these words, several archers, standing too long, and then encumbered by bow and quiver as they tried to flee over the awkward terrain, were caught and slaughtered by the Bethlarii.
Arwain and Ryllans watched the rising and falling swords and axes in silence.
Then there was a brief lull, until, now with loose-knit skeins of flank guards moving along the valley sides, the Bethlarii column began to move forward again.
Ryllans and Arwain glanced at one another. The loss of the archers had been a grim reminder of the ferocity and courage of their opponents and, although the Bethlarii response was broadly what they had envisaged, both were concerned that they now had only one more delaying tactic before they must make the decision whether to stand or retreat.
Ryllans looked down the valley. Everything was still and calm. No sign of even a galloping messenger, let alone a relieving army. With an effort he put from his mind a persistent thought urging him to calculate the probable position of the main force. It was not possible with the information he had, and in any event would serve no useful purpose. His and Arwain's task was to keep the Bethlarii in the valley for as long as they could, but not to jeopardize the bodyguard to any serious degree. If, as a result, the Bethlarii took possession of the valley, so be it. At least they would have been slowed down.
Then the final part of their trap was sprung, as two companies, half the battalion, emerged from the confused rocky cover on one side of the valley to sweep down on the scattered Bethlarii flank guards in as near close formation as they could manage. One or two groups of Bethlarii attempted to join together and lock shields against this onslaught, but to little avail, and the majority, finding themselves too far apart to develop an effective defence, fled back to the main column. On the opposite side of the valley, the guards there too began to close up and retreat in anticipation of a similar attack, although none came.
In the face of this assault on one flank and the risk of one on the other, the column stopped and again began to establish a shield wall, only to see the Serens withdraw as suddenly as they had attacked, and to find themselves under further arrow fire, even more intense than before.
Despite the intensity, however, the effect of the arrow storm was less than previously as many shields came up overhead immediately, and within a very short time, scattered groups of Bethlarii emerged as before to deal with the archers, though this time they were followed at a well-calculated distance by larger groups in closer formation who could protect them from another attack by the Serens’ infantry if need arose.