The wedge columns were moving very slowly and Mistingritis grew very anxious. They had been tracking the Desert King’s march for a fortnight now and were really near to the Receptacle pass and most of the King’s men had been notified about the plan.
As a hired metal man Mistingritis had never led a peaceful life. After the massacre that took place in High Coast, his own father had disowned him, all of his previous victories and titles were ripped off and he had been banished, dishonored and humiliated and left for the Realm to consume.
He would have been, if all his men had not come after him. All of the men he had commanded had followed him out of the court; not a single of the one hundred fifty men that he had commanded into battle abounding times chose to remain for his father’s gold.
More than this was the unanticipated outcome of men joining his ranks after he was set out for his new life. The hundred and fifty had grown and divided and grown and divided. Now there were more than six hundred, but they were divided and he would allow only two hundred of them to stay at a place. It was that with these two hundred men that he had hoped to take down the Stonian cavalry.
The dilemma was that Mistingritis was the only man mounted, apart from a few of his men at commanding position, no more than twenty. Mistingritis’ men relied on left behind garrons to equip their cavalry. Even with hordes of gold, there was no place where his men could buy horses without attracting danger and attention.
“So, we do not have any command to attack the foe?” Tongue asked. His oval shaped bald head looked strange when he put a quizzed face, but that did not stop him from doing it. Misitingritis smiled and nodded.“Neither can we kill all of them, can we?”
Mistingritis shook his head and titled it sideways and then made a little gesture using his fingers.
At any point a single cavalryman was enough to run over three or maybe four infantry men. But administrator Jackob had promised They will be in shock. Just drop a big boulder near the Receptacle pass, cut them off from our lines, make sure that you do not descend the valley. Watch from atop and the cavalry will be no match for your archers and artillery.
Mistingritis desperately hoped that Jackob was right. That was why he had ordered artillery scorpions to be but ahead of every column of archers and act as a wedge. For now he simply crossed arms and watched.
Men said that his face was somber, Mistingritis thought whether the men that he would kill today will agree with the opinion or not.
The rearguard alone consisted of mounted men.It was not in his way to order deaths from archers. He had only prided his group of Jesters on the victories they gained bare handed, axe in hand or at least parrying with a spear.
A war horn sounded. Then another. Then another. Another sound of a different note found enough strength to drown out the previous.
“Start our own devices, knuckle heads!” Tongue shouted. “Archers, draw when the horns sound and loose only when there is a clear shot. Do not kill all of them”
Mistingritis knew that was only a pink lizard bone horn. It would not increase the Stonians’ strength and neither their valor when they would see themselves surrounded by the Jesters.
The huge bells rang to announce their presence on the field and for a few moments there was no sound from the Stonians. They watched, astonished as Tongue ordered for some levers to be loosened and in turn huge boulders blocked the pass and left the Stonians only another small meandering pass in the opposite direction to run off to.
While the Stonians were flabbergasted by the ambush, the Desert King’s men calmly separated themselves from the target.
Mistingritis’ van sounded their bells as showers of their arrows found marks on the targets below.
All he could do was stop a few archers so a few of the Stonians could pass. As the first of them found his way up the valley, a few of his scorpions pierced his armor and sent him flying, dismounting all those who had tried to follow him up the vale. However all the horses had been safe.
This means more mounted men for us Mistingritis thought, after all there was no one to talk to amongst this blood shed.
“Tell the tale!” his Jesters shouted as the Stonians saw better sense and started escaping through the other end.
Even up on the pass, Mistingritis spied a man that had been separated from the men of the Northern Deserts. While he calmed himself by reminding that one man could rarely change outcomes his subconscious wildly flared with the threat that the potential dangers could cause his band and his reputation.
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