5.Death of Chaos
XL
Northwest of Renklaar, Freetown [Candar]
THE BODY OF the Hydlenese forces grinds to a halt near the hilltop, and Berfir rides to the fore of the main group, one hand straying to the hand - and - a - half blade across his shoulders. He glances down the slope and notes the three horses on the ground, one screaming. One rider lies facedown, unmoving.
A puddle spilling over from marshy ground has flooded the main road and the grass on each side with a sheet of muddy water twenty or more cubits wide, but less than a few fingers deep.
Another lancer eases his mount off the road, but the horse takes no more than a few steps before it screams and bucks. The lancer hangs on, as the horse settles, but holds a forefoot high. She leaps from her saddle back toward the dry ground, holding the reins.
As she bends down to study something in her mount's hoof, even as Berfir watches, a hail of arrows streams out of the hillside, seemingly from nowhere. More lancers fall, and the others look indecisively, then spur their horses back uphill, trying to escape the arrows. The injured horse takes several arrows and breaks away from the lancer, splashing through the puddle, and collapsing with a shrieking whinny.
The lancer on foot goes down.
By following the arrows, Berfir finally sees the archers, concealed on the side of the hill behind what had seemed to be low bushes. After a last volley, they scramble uphill and out of sight.
The Duke rides down toward the retreating lancers, and horses and riders move from his path as the massive sword comes out of the scabbard. He holds it easily in one hand.
“What happened?” he snaps at the subofficer.
“Caltrops... hundreds of them.”
“On the road? You couldn't see them?”
The lancer gestures to the water, and Berfir's eyes flick to the downhill end of the marshy area. In hindsight, the earthy berm that had looked natural is clearly a dam.
Shortly, another lancer approaches and offers a rusted caltrops for the Duke's inspection.
“Rusted? Iron doesn't rust that fast.” Then he nods. “They rusted them first.”
“I would say so, ser.”
“You'll pay for this, Colaris.” Berfir looks to the northeast and his blade rises. “We didn't want this... war... but you'll pay for it.”
The lancers shrink away from the big blade, but Berfir only swings it back and into his scabbard. “Go on! Clean it up.”
The Duke turns his mount downhill and rides slowly along the edge of the muddy water, studying it.
The lancers head back downhill after him. Shortly, two have pried open a hole in the earth berm and the road is clear of water. Hundreds of pointed brown iron objects lie on the muddy stones.
Berfir snorts in disgust.
Before long the rusted caltrops rest in a cart brought from the rear of the force, and the Hydlenese forces surge up the low hill on the far side of the valley, beginning the slow march toward Freetown.