Crusade - James Lowder [114]
And as the charge picked up speed, another sound rang out over the field: a shrill war cry. The Tuigan screeched their rage at the Alliance as they hurtled forward, brandishing their bows over their heads in defiance.
When the horsewarriors were a little more than fifty yards away, Brunthar Elventree signaled the archers to fire again. Another swarm of arrows sliced through the air, the sound of their passing contending with the war cry in the ears of the western troops. At this relatively short range, the longbows did even more damage to the massed Tuigan troops. Thousands of horses and soldiers sprouted brightly fletched arrows. Their shouts of shock and pain wavered under the shrill war cry.
"Ready for assault," Azoun said, and the signal was passed. At the right and left flanks, the armored noblemen who made up the majority of the cavalry readied their weapons and anxiously held their horses in place. In the second rank, Brunthar gave the signal to fire at will, and arrows sailed over Azoun's head in squalls.
The Tuigan reined in their horses and fired their strong short bows.
Thousands of arrows bit into the western lines. Azoun reflexively threw his shield up, and he heard two arrows strike it with surprising force. Luckily, the Tuigan seemed to take aim at the front ranks, where many of the men had shields, too. Still, what sounded like a single pained groan went up around Azoun as some of the missiles found their mark.
"Signal the mages!" Farl cried at Azoun's side.
The king lowered his shield and looked to the Tuigan lines. If the infantry commander had been able to see Azoun's face, he would have seen a look of shock; the horsewarriors were wheeling their swift little horses about and fleeing. "We should save the wizards for when we really need them," the king shouted. He pointed at the retreating enemy. "What's going on?" The Tuigan fired over their shoulders occasionally, but it seemed as if they were running away.
Farl flipped back his visor. His face, too, was a mask of surprise. "That had to be a test," he ventured. "Maybe they didn't know the range of our bows or what kind of battle magic we had."
A hearty cry went up from the Army of the Alliance. The king signaled the archers to cease fire and watched as a much-weakened group of riders rejoined the khahan's army. "Losses?" Azoun asked as he lifted his own visor.
After scanning the field for a moment, Farl said, "They lost four, perhaps even five thousand. We wounded more than that." He shook his head. "The khahan must care very little for his men to condone that kind of carnage for a test."
"Or his men think highly enough of him to go to it willingly," Azoun corrected. "Save for an instant when our first volley hit them, they didn't pause. This was a familiar drill for them." He looked across his own first rank.
"Have the captains tally our losses. We may just frighten them off."
The dead were counted as they were dragged out of line, and the king was relieved to find that only about three hundred had been killed in the first assault. The thought of any men dying under his command troubled Azoun, but he pushed those guilty thoughts aside.
The wounded were far more numerous, but many of the arrow wounds required only simple dressings or minor healing spells. Most of the wounded bragged about their new badges of honor or invited their neighbors in the ranks to see where the Tuigan arrows had pierced their shields or split their leather jerkins. The sergeants let this nervous bravado continue as the minutes of waiting for a new assault wore into an hour, and the sun rose high over the field.
By midday, crows began to flock to the battlefield. The corpses of the Tuigan horses and soldiers slain in the first assault lay in the field, growing cold in the sunlight. Many of the less-traveled soldiers in the Alliance were shocked to find the birds gathered so quickly. Some even spoke of the darkwinged scavengers as a bad omen or