'Come on, Auum, where are you?' whispered Darrick.
'Sir, single group attack to the rear. No others,' reported the signalman.
'Thank you. Move two groups of archers rear.'
'Sir.'
The deep blue glow was visible a split second before the spell was cast. It was a single FlameOrb, the size of a covered wagon. It appeared above the heads of the left hand group, a second mimicking it above the right hand group. They hung for a heartbeat before flying straight and fast towards the gatehouse, one for the defenders, one for the wood.
'Watching!' roared Darrick. 'Watching!'
The lower Orb ploughed in fast, shaking the walls around it, blue fire splattering wide.
'Go!'
The gatehouse defenders ran left and right as instructed, clearing the area in moments, scattering around the walls, crouching below the ornamental battlements and watching the spell crash in. It burst like a waterskin, fire raining over the roofing, blasting through die open spaces where they had just been standing and shooting high into the sky. The wall bindings crackled but held comfortably, die mana blaze dying away quickly with nothing to feast upon.
'Form up!' said Darrick. 'Let's stand tall!'
He led the defenders back into the gatehouse, Hirad and The Unknown next to him.
'This is fun, isn't it?' growled Hirad.
'They can't cast forever,' said Darrick.
'They won't have to,' said The Unknown. 'Not like that. As soon as they know we're not shielded, they'll change their attack.'
'I know,' said Darrick. ‘Iknow. Where are-'
A shuddering impact behind them sent smoke and blue flame soaring into the sky from the rear of the college. Into the relative quiet that followed, Darrick heard the sound of hooves on cobbles and, nearer to him, the roar of a panther.
'Our turn.'
Izack had walked his horses as close as he'd dared while the Xeteskians arranged themselves for battie. Chandyr had shown his naivety as Darrick had hoped, assuming everyone would be inside the college. And the fact that the city had capitulated had worked to their advantage, allowing Chandyr to feel relatively secure he was not about to feel an arrow in his back from every window.
But he had set a perimeter guard nonetheless and before reaching them, Izack had taken the muffles from every hoof and had mounted his men. He had precisely sixty. Fifty swordsmen and ten mages. He knew his route to the rear of the college, aware that a central street would give the attackers thirty yards of warning when he rounded the last right-hand turn. But he would be at a gallop, and their minds would be elsewhere.
Stopping for a moment, he turned in his saddle and nodded at his men. Spell and HardShields were up, his swordsmen were in disciplined order and would spread to fill the street as they entered it. They had their attack orders. He would call the fight after first contact. He faced forwards once more, raised his sword arm and swept it down, simultaneously kicking into the flanks of his horse. The animal sprang away and the Lysternan cavalry pounded through Julatsa, the voices of his men loud and confident.
Izack rounded the last corner, his cavalry fanning out to left and right, straightening and powering in for the college. He saw spells striking the walls, arcing out to scatter defenders. HotRain was falling like a torrent in one quarter, the rocks of an Earth-Hammer were standing jagged from the cobbles in front of the walls which were displaying the first crack. The Al-Arynaar answered as best they could, picking targets but seeing most of their arrows bouncing from solid magical shields.
They were seen at the full thirty yards' distance by the perimeter guard whom Izack could see shouting the alarm. The Lysternan cavalry ate up the space between them, closing fast on the thin line of perimeter guard to whom help was coming but too late. Izack, his horse bred for this and not flinching, watched the odd crossbow bolt bounce from the shield surrounding them, held his sword down and to his right. He set himself low in his saddle and whipped his blade up into the defence of the first perimeter guardsman, battering it aside and knocking the man from his feet.
He didn't look round, knowing the enemy had no chance under the hooves of his cavalry, and drove on. In front of him, Xeteskians were running in from both sides and the tight-formed group attacking the walls was breaking as bowmen turned, swordsmen tried to form up to take on the cavalry and defend their mages who still pounded the walls.
Izack yelled for the charge to increase pace and kicked again, feeling his horse surge beneath him. 'Single charge and break!'
Although if they could hear him, he'd be surprised. What they would do was follow his lead.
He felt a thrill course through him, the air thick with noise and fear and the strong smells of horse, leather and the acrid taint of spell fire. He set himself again and drove into the half-made rank of Xeteskians, his horse kicking up and out, landing hard. Izack drove his blade straight through the chest guard of his first target, dragging it clear, his momentum carrying him*forwards. Next blow took the arm from a bowman and he slowed dramatically, his men widening their attack behind him and sweeping up the flanks of the group.
'Care your open flank!' roared Izack, hearing the shout relayed.
He blocked a blow to his right, saw his left-flank man smash his sword into the helmet of another enemy before a third Xeteskian reached up a hand and pulled the man from his saddle. Izack kicked his horse again, and stepped in two more paces, thumping his blade down on the shoulder of an enemy, sending him sprawling. Directly ahead, the mages had broken, some were running right, others casting again.
'Push!' shouted Izack. 'Push!'
He saw a thrust blocked aside but leaned out in his saddle to change his angle and whipped his sword back, right to left, and scored a deep gash in the enemy's upper arm. Another pace and he was through the defence and into the mages. Knowing it was a brief chance he laid about him with all the energy he could muster, his sword carving into chest, head, arm and back.
All around him, the press of cavalry had broken the Xeteskian group. A handful of riderless horses cantered in confusion but the attack had been a great success. He knew more than to outstay his welcome. Xeteskians were closing in good numbers left and right and he could see, emerging from around the right hand wall of the college, the Xeteskian cavalry.
'Break!'he yelled.
Heaving his sword one more time and feeling it connect with unprotected flesh, he dragged on the reins and began to force his way out.
'Keep form, mages let's go.'
The Lysternan cavalry clattered their way from the carnage they had made and began to make their escape. In front of Izack, a lone Xeteskian swordsman stabbed straight through the leg of a cavalryman, the blade carrying on into his mount. Both cried out, the horse rearing and galloping away, the rider flung back and left, his leg rotating around the sword as he fell screaming. He was dragged a short way before the blade tore free, the horse, pumping blood, running terrified after its kin.
Izack at a fast canter himself, despatched the swordsman before he had time to turn or grab another weapon and headed off back the way they had come. Shouting encouragement, he drove his remaining cavalry hard, seeing over his shoulder the Xeteskians continuing their chase. Cheers from the walls reached his ears and he could already imagine the arrows starting to fly from elven bows now the Xeteskian shields were down.
Sensibly, the enemy cavalry carried on the pursuit, never closing too much but not letting them out of their sight. Izack, moving through his men to lead once again, galloped through the empty streets across a beautiful blossom-strewn park, through an area of high-walled tenements and out into open land. Behind, the Xeteskian cavalry stopped at the city boundaries.