Valr Magnus looked from the growing battles on the beaches to Sivaird. He could order them to sacrifice the one disobedient man, to pepper Calistin with the same barrage as the enemy. He dismissed the thought the instant it arose; it was a cowards' way out, ethically and strategically wrong. "Use the Strikers." Magnus referred to the most competent archers, the specialists reserved for specific targets. "Take down the ships, if you can. Leave the shore-bound for the infantry. The reservists need to switch to handheld weapons, and the designated bowmen…" He could think of no specific use for them but hated wasting their skill. "… use your judgment. If you can get a clear shot without jeopardizing any of our men, take it."
Captain Sivaird saluted and rushed to reorganize. Flaming arrows flew toward the ships. Only three hit their targets, but all of the others crashed safely into the sea. Smoke rose from one of the ships, then burst brilliantly into flames. One down. One seemed so few.Yet, even that small triumph brought them one step nearer to victory. "Again," he said beneath his breath. And Sivaird complied. Another wave of flaming arrows flew from the ridge, accompanied by a tight barrage of quarrels over the heads of the massed infantry on the open portion of beach.
All up and down Bearn's beaches, of ringing steel, battle cries, grunts, and screams filled the air with the familiar sounds of war.
Another ship went up in flames, then another, and a few more up and down the ocean from other units. Then, the pirates swarmed the beach, and Captain Alsmir released the infantry. Valr Magnus freed his sword and raced to join his men, reminding himself not only to watch for the familiar uniforms of his unit but for the various and sundry other continental warriors, the random clothes of volunteers and conscripted soldiers, the homespun farmers. He need not have worried. To a man, the enemy sported the same leather armor, helmets, and shields; and it became easier to target them and protect every other.
Bodies fell around Valr Magnus, flesh yielding to his sword, steel slamming against his blocks and parries. Several of his own men had fallen amongst the enemy, each blood-splattered aqua-and-bronze uniform a painful reminder that not every man would return. He set his sights on allowing as few pirates past him as possible, easing the burden on the cavalry farther up the beach. They were the last resort for the women and children of Bearn, the city, the castle, and all the lands beyond.
Piles of bloody bodies formed on the beach, and Magnus found himself shifting slightly southward as he cleared the area around him. At length, he found an unexpected partner behind him, a man of such skill and ferocity that the general was incapable of not trusting that his flank was safe. Without intention or planning, the two men merged their personal strategies to become a single fighting unit. The dead all but surrounded them, and they had to move together across the beach to find opponents as the pirates deliberately avoided them.
All up and down the beach they fought without pause, no breaks for what felt like half a day or longer, their skin, clothing, and hair spattered with enemy gore.Valr Magnus felt fatigue press him, but he banished it through willpower. His arms and legs kept moving long past pain and weariness. He dared not stop, not break even for a moment, worried that doing so would allow exhaustion to finally catch him. Once stilled, he might not find the strength to move again. And, luckily, his partner remained with him.
It did not occur to Valr Magnus to wonder who fought the battle with him. Knowing the truth would ruin everything, would force him to contemplate an intolerable situation, would shatter any illusions left from centuries of stories, legends, and history. Subconsciously, Magnus knew his benefactor was the archest of nemeses, that he threw his lot in with a Renshai sworn to kill him. Yet, he would not allow that thought to come to the fore. He could not remember the last time he had fought a battle with such an aura of faith at his back, at the side of an ally who matched or exceeded his own talent. It was a joy he would not allow something as mundane as reality to destroy.
Ra-khir swiftly realized that it did not matter if he served as the Renshai's only cavalry. Nobody made it past the world's most skilled swordsmen. All up and down the beach, pirates slipped through the knots of infantries to the horsemen stationed beyond them. He could see the knights' white chargers plunging behind Erythane's infantry, saw one occasionally veer off to assist among the golds, browns, and grays of the other troops. He, alone, had no one to chase. It all seemed a cruel joke. A battle of this magnitude, and I'm actually bored.
Ra-khir did wander right or left at times to catch a charging pirate or assist other horsemen, but he did so at his own risk. The Western army to his south worked as a well-rehearsed team. To the north, he discovered more leeway, but he also found himself moving in that direction to back the Renshai. As the pirates fell or tried to find easier routes up the beachhead, the Renshai had to shift as well. And, like a golden tide, they rolled casually northward.
As Ra-khir rode the dunes for a better view of the battle, several things became clear. The abilities of the continental armies varied greatly, while those of the pirates seemed nearly identical. Early on, this favored the pirates, who could fall back on consistency and drive into the weaker areas of the allies' defenses. But, as the weakest and least experienced fighters fell, the pirates found themselves facing a tougher defense, with a higher percentage of trained soldiers who gradually learned to exploit their enemy's unwavering style.
Suddenly, two Renshai broke from the chaos to charge up the beach, as if fleeing the battle. Ra-khir knew better. No Renshai would ever display such cowardice. Those two had other reason for rushing toward him. Saviar and Subikahn, he assumed. And they've seen something.
Ra-khir reined Silver Warrior into their path and nudged him into a ground-eating canter. The looseness of the sand slowed the stallion into a rolling slog, but he soon met up with the twins. They looked frightful, their arms, hair, and clothing striped with blood and spotted with bits of unidentifiable gore. Their swords dripped crimson circles into the sand. Saviar's expression appeared worried, his pale eyes crinkled and his forehead lined; but Subikahn looked positively corpselike. His eyes had sunken into pools of pained darkness, his cheeks drawn.
"Papa," Saviar shouted as soon as they drew close enough to hear one another. "Look there." He used his sword to point toward the pirate ships.
Ra-khir had looked there a thousand times in the past several hours, but he dutifully followed Saviar's gesture. Most of the ships still remained at anchor off the coast, bobbing gently in swells that made a strange and peaceful contrast to the raging battle on the shore. He could see some bubbling and movement in the water where sharks had discovered bodies. Otherwise, nothing appeared to have changed. "You mean the sharks?" He wondered if the boys had some strategy that involved driving the pirates into the jaws of the savage fish. "Because I don't think anyone's going to let themselves-"
Saviar shoved the hilt of his sword against his father's fist, which startled Ra-khir. No Renshai, not even his son, ever willingly handed over his weapon to someone outside the tribe. Cautiously, he wrapped his fingers around it.
"Look again."
Ra-khir kept his eyes in the direction Saviar had indicated. At first, he saw nothing unusual. Then, a shimmer drew his attention slightly to the right where he discovered a ball of light that seemed to hover over the deck of the central ship. "What's that?"
"It's an aura," Saviar explained, snatching back his sword.
The glow disappeared, at least to Ra-khir's eyes.
"Someone's working magic. We need to find Chymmerlee."
Ra-khir did not fully understand, but he trusted the twins. "All right. What-?" The distant waves seemed to hesitate. Nearer the shore, the water sucked back from the edge. "The ocean… it's changing."