He turned his horse about, calming him with a stroke to the flank as he waited. The wolf’s message still sang in his breast, his newborn spirit leaving him with a faint smile that refused to budge from his lips, even as Darnel’s five hundred knights thundered towards the spur.
Come, my lord, he urged Darnel silently. Just a little closer.
His risen spirits took a slight tumble at the sight of Darnel raising a hand, his entire command coming to a halt some two hundred paces short. Frentis reached over his shoulder and drew his sword, raising it high before pointing it directly at Darnel in a clear and unambiguous challenge. Be true to yourself, my lord, Frentis implored him. Be the fool.
Darnel’s horse reared as its rider drew his own sword, one of his retainers trotting forward, perhaps keen to offer a cautionary word, but Darnel dismissed him with a furious wave before spurring his horse to a gallop. Frentis made ready to begin his own charge, then paused as a new sound came to his ears; horns sounding a high pealing note to the east, too high for a Renfaelin knight and the Sixth Order had no use for horns. He paused to glance over his shoulder, his smile fading completely at the sight of at least two battalions of Volarian cavalry charging towards the eastern bank of the Brinewash.
Al Hestian! he cursed. Another tumult drew his attention to the south, the great churning roaring of many horses charging through shallow water. Banders led his knights around the rocky hill and straight for Darnel’s company, Frentis spying the dim figures of his brothers atop the hill, bows drawn. He switched his gaze back to Darnel, finding the Fief Lord now halted, his men milling in confusion behind him. Frentis cast a final look at the onrushing Volarian cavalry, now fording the river, but prevented from galloping by the water’s height.
He fixed his gaze on Darnel once more and kicked his horse into motion, sword held out straight and level as he charged, covering the distance in barely a few seconds. He could see the black streaks of his brothers’ arrows arcing into Darnel’s host, horses rearing and knights falling as they struck home. One of Darnel’s retainers took hold of the Fief Lord’s reins and tried to drag him towards the Volarians, falling dead as Darnel hacked his long sword into the man’s neck, wheeling about and meeting Frentis’s charge head-on.
Their horses collided with bone-shattering force, Frentis’s sword rebounding from Darnel’s blade as the Fief Lord slashed at him before the animals reeled back. Frentis’s horse staggered, snorting foam and blood, sinking to its knees as he leapt clear, crouching as Darnel leaned low in the saddle to try for a decapitating blow with his long sword. Frentis let it whisper past then dived to catch hold of Darnel’s armoured forearm, hooking both arms around the steel-clad limb and hauling him from the saddle. He landed with a crash of rending metal but recovered quickly, lunging to butt his helmeted head into Frentis’s side, sending him sprawling, then bringing his long sword up in a two-handed grip. Frentis could see his eyes behind the visor, wide and full of unreasoning hate.
He rolled as the blade came down, cleaving into the earth, springing to his feet and slashing at Darnel’s visor. The Fief Lord dodged the blow and brought his sword around in a great arc, Frentis grunting with the effort as he parried the blow, Darnel’s steel biting deep into his Order blade. He reached out to catch Darnel’s gauntleted wrist before he could draw the blade back, stepping in close, angling his sword to thrust up through the visor. Darnel jerked his head back as the blade sank home, the tip emerging bloodied, the Fief Lord roaring in fury and pain.
Frentis spun, bringing the blade round to slash into Darnel’s legs, not piercing the armour but with enough force to send him to the ground. The Fief Lord howled and hacked at him again but Frentis blocked the blow and delivered a kick to his sword hand, the blade flying free. He smashed his sword guard into Darnel’s visor, stunning him before planting a boot on his neck, laying the tip of his blade on the opening, meeting the eyes behind it, smiling fiercely at the fear he saw.
“BROTHER!”
It was Arendil, charging towards them, men locked in combat on either side, his sword pointed at something over Frentis’s shoulder. He didn’t waste time with a glance, diving to the left as a Volarian cavalry sword left a shallow cut on his cheek. The Volarian dragged his horse around for another blow then tumbled from the saddle as Arendil’s sword lanced through his shoulder.