The Hostigi got off two more volleys before the crossbowman fired their first salvo, as they had to wait until their own skirmishers cleared the field before firing. If it affected the Hostigi shot, Tortha couldn't tell from the overhead sky-eye camera. He pulled in for a close-up. Some of the Hostigi musketeers were down with crossbow bolts, but the line was unshaken. When the Hostigi fired their next volley, the entire Grefftscharri front line began to waver and break-up. Some of the crossbowman reloaded and returned fire, but it had very little effect on the musketeers who began firing salvos by rank. Under concentrated musket fire, the ribbon of crossbowman faltered, wilted and then retired.
The spear blocks held firm as the crossbowman retired from the front. The Hostigi musketeers fired several more salvos before retiring. The Grefftscharri men-at-arms began to move forward to cover their otherwise vulnerable flanks. Suddenly the front ranks of the Hostigi pikemen lowered their pikes in the forward waist-high position and began their forward march, with the Hostigi light cavalry covering their flanks. The spearmen set their spears to receive the attacking pikeman. Those spearmen are going to receive a quick education on superior arms, Tortha decided, since the pikes had about a six-foot length advantage.
The forward ranks of Hostigi pikemen smashed into the Grefftscharri squares of spearmen. The pikes ripped through the spear blocks like a warm sword through a snow bank. At the flanks, the Grefftscharri men-at-arms threw themselves at the pikemen, but the pikes went up to meet their charge. For the most part their horses shied away but those horses who continued their charge were skewered on pike points.
While the Grefftscharri cavalry was pinned down, the Hostigi heavy lancers and cuirassiers charged from the rear, hitting both flanks and inflicting heavy casualties. From where he stood, Tortha watched as King Theovacar committed his cavalry reserve to keep the Hostigi heavy horse from outflanking both ends of his army. It was a good call, but not good enough to keep the Grefftscharri center from collapsing as the spearmen gave way to Kalvan's pikes.
The musketeers began to fire en masse. Soon it was hard to see through the swirling masses of smoke and dust. The only thing Tortha knew was that King Theovacar's Army was getting the tar walloped out of it.
Suddenly a green signal rocket for recall exploded overhead, signaling the arrival of the Styphoni forward element. This is the tipping point, Tortha thought. If Sarrask refuses to break off the attack, he'll have to fight the Grand Host's reinforcements. Through the battle haze he could see the mass of reinforcements who were several miles away.
For a few moments it appeared that the Grefftscharri slaughter, as their army was now in full retreat, would continue, then the Hostigi trumpets called for a halt. The pikemen reformed ranks and with the rest of the troops began to pull back toward the West Gate. The skirmishers remained behind to help the Uncle Wolf mercy teams remove the casualties.
Not even the Styphoni would blatantly disregard the rules of war and attack the Uncle Wolf teams: to do so would turn every worshipper of Galzar in the Five Kingdoms against them. The Hostigi cavalry reserve covered their evacuation.
Well, I'll be double Dralm-damned! Even an old dog like Sarrask can learn a new trick.
II
By the time Great King Lysandros and his reinforcements reached the West Gate, the Hostigi had retreated back through the gate into Thagnor City and all that was left were the dead and wounded Grefftscharri soldiers heaped in piles on the hoof-broken earth. Lysandros estimated their casualties at four to five thousand. It took the rest of the day to round up the Grefftscharri Army, which now numbered less than six thousand men. It appeared there were several thousand deserters. This did not improve his view of their new allies.
Theovacar, in polished black armor chased with gold, only returned with his Companions several candles after the main body had regrouped. Lysandros suspected that the King had led the retreat and noticed that Theovacar refused to meet his eyes when questioned about the debacle.
"We were attacked by the entire Hostigi Army!" Theovacar exclaimed. "Where was your army?"
It took all of Lysandros' restraint not to pull a pistol out of a holster and shoot the coward dead on the spot. "We just received the message that you'd arrived and were coming to join forces with you. It's not my fault that you didn't wait for us to arrive before approaching at the West Gate."
"We had no idea that Kalvan would have the audacity to attack Us!" Theovacar was all but foaming at the mouth.
"The Usurper is no fool. He saw a perfect opportunity to blood your Army when you marched up to his gates without sufficient reinforcements. What did you expect him to do? Wave at you from his ramparts?"
Theovacar's right hand went straight to the hilt of his sword. "Do not insult me, outlander!"
Lysandros felt Demnos restraining hand on his shoulder, or he might have done something foolish. He shook it off and took several deep breaths. "At the moment, we need to maintain our alliance. If the Hostigi believe we are fighting amongst ourselves, they will strike again."
"There is some wisdom in your words. We will settle our disagreements at a future date."
Lysandros nodded, wondering to himself: What else will go wrong on this failed expedition? "I would also recommend that you exchange your parade armor for something less noticeable. Kalvan's skirmishers have been killing our commanders and scouts with their rifles. We've lost almost a thousand men between here and Nythros to their bullets."
"To remove my battle armor would signal that I feared Kalvan the Usurper and would diminish my own army's morale. They expect to see their King and know that he fights at their side."
"May Lytris watch over you, then." I hope he takes one in the head, Lysandros thought to himself.
FORTY-THREE
The day had started out so well, thought Grand Master Soton, as he watched the thin figure of Holy Investigator Roxthar, his white robes flapping in the breeze like some man-sized bird of prey, trudging toward his tent. The Host of Styphon's Deliverance had met the Agrysi sortie and defeated it soundly right before sunrise. We killed or wounded about two-thirds of the party, some three thousand men, and Roxthar should be completely in his element, torturing prisoners, rather than coming to see me. What does this madman want now1?
The Investigator arrived out of breath and took a moment to regain his composure before speaking. "Grand Master, one of the unbelievers I have Investigated tells of a great Army of Dralm that the League is sending against us-you must do something!"
"I am doing everything I can to level these walls, which is unfortunately much less than I wish. Let the League of Dralm send its army, but we will not go chasing after it. Whoever owns this City, owns the Kingdom of Hos-Agrys. And I would own it now if I had some proper guns."
"Have them sent from Balph!" Roxthar interjected.
His words were punctuated by the sound of four or five small cannons being fired in unison. The resounding crash against the walls of Agrys City was almost negligible.
"Hear that, Investigator? That is our main battery, three four-pound guns and two six-pounders. We have four larger iron-hooped guns, but they only fire every quarter to half candle. At this rate, Kalvan himself will have time to return from the Middle Kingdoms to do us mischief before these walls collapse. As far as guns from Balph, most of those guns that could be moved are already with the Grand Host and will not be returning for some time-if ever! This Fireseed War has been the death of big guns."