On a distant hill, Miranda saw the signal and shouted, ‘Now!’
As coordinated as court dancers, a dozen Great Ones of the Empire of Tsuranuanni rose up as if being carried by a giant invisible hand. Reaching down with their magic, they raised two additional magicians each, so that thirty-six of the most powerful magicians on this world floated high in the sky, giving them an unobstructed view of the gap between the river trail and the plains beyond the foothills. As she had expected, Miranda saw the lines of Dasati were broken, and those in the gap were slowing, waiting to see what was occurring in the battle less than half a mile ahead of them, while their commanders decided what to do next. She was no student of military tactics, but she had witnessed enough battles to realize that the Dasati were even worse than the Tsurani at coordinating large number of warriors. She was not certain exactly what Kaspar’s plan was in every detail, but she understood enough of it to realize it was working.
‘Forward!’ she cried and signalled them to move on.
In formation, thirty-seven magic-users of enormous power swept down to a position high above the invading Dasati, and from there began to rain death on the invaders.
Jommy turned to Tad and Zane as Servan raced back from the battle to join them. ‘Look at that!’ he shouted. In the distance, above and behind the battle was a great display of lights and energies, towers of flame and pillars of smoke rising up, almost blinding the onlookers.
Tad grinned at his companions. ‘Don’t get Miranda mad.’
‘Come on,’ said Zane, pointing to the command position. ‘We need to get back.’ The four youngsters, together for the first time in months, were enjoying their new role as leaders of men while still testing their capabilities. Jommy was by far the most confident, being the eldest and most experienced, but right now they were inexperienced youngsters being given a huge amount of responsibility.
The Tsurani command structure was in tatters, as every ruling lord save a handful, had been obliterated by the Dasati raid on the High Council. Those left alive were in key positions around the Empire, but at this particular battle no seasoned veteran leader was present. Worse, most of the houses of the Empire had lost their First Advisors, Force Commanders, Force Leaders, and others in the dead lords’ retinues who would have been valuable assets in this struggle.
Now tens of thousands of Tsurani soldiers awaited commands from foreigners, relayed by other foreigners, to inexperienced leaders, aided by soldiers roughly of the rank of corporal or minor sergeant in Midkemian terms. The few Strike Leaders and Force Leaders who were still alive had been placed in critical positions and were desperately trying to coordinate those soldiers under their command.
‘So far it seems to be working,’ said Zane, pointing to where the Dasati were being drawn into a tighter group.
The four rode back to the command position, in time to hear General Alenburga shout, ‘Archers! Pick your targets!’
The word was relayed, and the Lashiki archers – the finest in the Empire – shot high into the air so that the arrows fell straight down into the middle of the Dasatis’ congested position. They were helpless to defend themselves against such an attack.
Jommy drew up his mount, jumped down and tossed the reins to a lackey. Rushing to where the general staff was arrayed, he saluted the officers and said, ‘Orders have been relayed, General. They wait your signal.’
‘Not yet,’ said the crafty old soldier from Novindus.
Kaspar looked from Erik to Alenburga and saw in their expressions the same murderous satisfaction he felt at trapping a large force of Dasati and destroying them, without incurring worse casualties.
More and more arrows rained down on the centre of the Dasati formation and Erik said, ‘I find it impossible to believe they don’t have shields.’
‘I don’t begin to guess how these creatures think,’ answered Alenburga. ‘All their swords look like hand-and-a-half. Maybe they’ve become so tradition bound, variation isn’t encouraged, or even allowed.’
Kaspar said, ‘If the vision I had is real – and so far nothing shows me it wasn’t – they are a strange and twisted people who gave up innovation centuries ago.’
‘Or maybe they just think they’re invincible?’ suggested Erik.
In the distance they could see the flying magicians were continuously pounding away at the contained force of Dasati hemmed in along the river above the plain.
Kaspar laugh was a bitter sound. ‘Another hour of magic raining down from above and they’ll lose that vanity.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Alenburga, ‘but what I want to know is where are their Deathpriests and why aren’t they answering the magicians’ attack?’