Book 2, Chapter 16: The Battle At The Bridge

We left our baggage trains behind as we approached the hill that led into the valley, and the bridge. It was midafternoon, the sun had crested its peak but was yet high. I was carrying a long box, given to me by the master weaponsmith.

“Our scouts are reporting an army of 20 000 men strong and growing.” Rand passed on to me.

“I see. And how are we?”

“Formed up and ready, Your Highness. Awaiting your orders.”

For some reason, it felt like formality was appropriate here, and I went with it, “General Brundle, please give the command.” He did, the message was relayed, and our troops marched out of the forest and into plain view, in formation, heading toward their army, as of now out of formation. I hoped they’d remain disorganized.

Phalanx in the middle, cavalry on the right and left. Archers behind the phalanx, skirmishers and other ranged on the left. We wanted our ranged harassing the bridge to slow their support. Twenty thousand men strong. It took a long while to fully free ourselves of the forest.

Halfway down the hill, they spotted us. Perhaps overcame the magic hiding us. I didn’t know, but their troops began forming up and the speed at which they were leaving the bridge increased, their fresh troops forming up behind their companies. Cavalry would ride to cavalry formations, infantry to phalanx and skirmishers. It appeared, disturbingly, that we were equally matched. That wouldn’t last long with reinforcements constantly joining their ranks.

A powerful blast of lightning arched over the horizon and onto the ground immediately before the bridge, exploding into a sphere above those soldiers. To my left, the grand magister was waving his arms on a hilltop not too far away. I hadn’t seen our mages set up, but there they were.

Another bolt arched down and into an enemy wizard. It hit him, and he half collapsed, lighting shooting out of him to the nearby troops and setting them ablaze. Only he survived. He stood, pushing his hands toward our wizards.

Five of ours seem to sway back, but otherwise were unhurt.

Something wasn’t right with the river. It had all but ceased flowing after the bridge, water levels dropping. But the other side! It was a growing tower of water, like an invisible dam was holding it back, higher every second and not breaking its banks. Enemy soldiers were racing to get off the bridge when the enormous volume of water crashed onto it, thunderously roaring. The deluge must have killed and carried off most of those atop it.

Back on the hill, one of our mages simply exploded. I stared at his boots, still on the ground, in shock. Were we tricked into thinking we had a magic advantage?

Another gigantic wave burst from the river, crashing through nearby horses and men, dragging them into the rapids, like a riptide gaining sentience and really, just really hating people. That cleared out a considerable section of their right flank’s cavalry, leaving their phalanx exposed. It appeared our mages were still ahead.

Then a shimmering bubble enveloped the remaining enemy soldiers, another appearing over ours. I turned to Brundle who, like me, had been stunned into rigidity watching the awesome powers at work, “I think that’s it. Brundle! That’s the signal that the enemy troops are protected. Let’s attack quickly, while they’re still unbalanced!”

“What? Right, yes, right away.” He signaled, the guy on the horn horned and our troops advanced. Phalanx out in center, pikes up, marching quickly as if they hungered for prey. Cavalry charge led by Rand on the left, toward the bridge. Though no soldiers were exiting it now and the water was still draining back into the river, he was to secure that flank and, if no resistance, smash into the phalanx’s flank and break their line.

The mages were doing their strange arhythmic dances, hands darting here and there, palms up, then down, none of them in sync, like the first time I’d seen them. It was our battle, now. My battle.

“Morry!”

“Yes?”

“Bring those snipers and the arrows. When do we get in range?” This, this would be my contribution. Hopefully, it would royally fuc-, excuse me, fudge up the enemy sorcerers. I had a little revenge coming. “Brundle, ready the archers.”

“They won’t be able to get through.”

“Yes, they won’t. They’re cover for the arrows that will get through.”

Morrentz had brought up the two snipers. Tall men, strong arms, and oddly both had grey eyes. “What range do you need to hit those mages?”

“I can make the shot at 300 yards, but the closer we get the better.”

“Me as well, Your Royal Highness,” said the other man.

“Let’s dispense with the formalities. I’m Princess Cayce, nice to meet you and the entire battle depends on your shots. No pressure. Brundle, alert me when we get to 200 yards.”

Our phalanx let out a roar and charged. Rand looked over, confused I presume, hard to see from here, and his regiment broke into a charge. The cavalry on the right likewise.

The enemy was forming up, but they were still disorganized and slow about it. Rand had to race past their wizards and sorcerers, so they were going to block our shot for a few seconds, the cavalry only surviving if our wizards magically protected them. In ways I still couldn’t comprehend.

The air above was cooking. It vibrated, shimmered, even rended in one terrifying sound, with a slice of blackness opening and crashing shut, pulling the very space around it tight before vanishing, ripples spreading outward. It was like they’d just torn spacetime. Damn, I really need to kill all these guys. How was it possible a universe existed where a human body could produce energy on a scale undreamt of?

Without cavalry to defend their flank, Rand headed toward the enemy pikemen. Like ours had done that first battle I’d witnessed, their side swiveled, pikes lowered at the horsemen three waves deep. Our phalanx was yet to engage, but the enemy was forming up along the creek and not giving an inch. It would be a hard crossing.

“200 yards, Your Highness.”

“Gentlemen, may I present you with these arrows?” I opened up the box the master smith had given me. Inside lay six beautiful arrows, he’d really outdone himself. Shimmering gold and shadow tips, viciously barbed, the metal extending halfway down an ebony hardwood shaft. Each sniper took one. “They cannot be stopped by magic and will fly true. Please wait one second while we determine targets. Brundle?”

“Yes?”

“Have our ranged loose into their phalanx.”

“It will be rebounded by their mages.”

“Yes, it will. And will expose which of them has that duty. Gentlemen, pay close attention to the enemy mages!”

They both said, “Yes, ma’am!” at the same time.

“Archers, loose!” A rain of arrows soon flew up and toward the enemy phalanx, shattering just past midway.

“Did you see it?” asked the man I was thinking of as Sniper Number One. Until I knew his name.

“No, missed it,” said Two.

“Wearing red robes and dress, to the left of the blond woman.”

“Ok, I see her.”

“Brundle, loose again.”

“Archers! Loose!” Another volley of arrows arched up and uselessly into an invisible shield.

“Yup, I caught it that time. She flinched.”

“Brundle, archers at the ready.”

“Archers, knocked and ready!”

“Gentlemen, at your leisure.”

“I’ll fire on three. You fire on four. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“One, two, three,” the sound of one bowstring snapping shut, “four,” another snap, and two arrows arched high up into the sky, aimed at the enemy mages. They didn’t take notice, they continued their bizarre dance, death reaching its peak then racing downslope toward the woman in red robes.

“Brundle, ranged to fire on the mages. Loose!”

“Archers, toward the spellcasters. Loose!” A volley of arrows that would have taken down so many, many troops, perhaps over a thousand strong, headed toward the mages. They paid it no attention, mundane weapons.

“Ready to loose again.”

The red woman waved her hand at the first arrow. Its trajectory remained true. She desperately waved both hands and the arrow took her in the chest. She staggered back, the second arrow slamming into her neck. She fell and one of her companions perhaps shouted something – the distance was too far to be sure – then raced toward her, taking her head in his hands, speaking words no one will ever hear.

At that moment, he exploded, a red mist from this distance. One of our mages had taken the opportunity immediately. The air above the enemy ceased shimmering, they’d lost their magical protection.

Then our rain of arrows slammed into the mages. The first volley, then the second.

A funnel of fire appeared in the air above, blasting onto them. It was so bright, I had to look away. Our wizards again taking advantage of any weakness. How awful and dangerous it must be to be them, despite their awesome power.

“Brundle, loose at will on the enemy phalanx. Full engagement.”

“Archers, loose and forward!” Walking as they fired, we made our way to the enemy front.

It collapsed quickly, small patches holding out as best they can. Rand slammed into their side as their phalanx wavered after watching their mages brutally killed. Our phalanx crashed into theirs on the front, but they didn’t have a chance with our right cavalry circling around and hitting them from behind.

Our mages continued their bizarre dance but aimed across the river now. Some of them were sitting, though, perhaps regaining their strength. I didn’t know.

We’d won. Their line collapsed and surrendered after a short time. Because I killed their mages.

“This is a state secret,” I said to the snipers, who were smiling unabashedly, patting each other on the back.

“Yes, ma’am!”

“No, you don’t understand. Think, really think about this.” I gestured with my face to our mages, “They will kill you. Easily and without conscience.”

They became more somber. “Yes, Your Highness.”

“Keep quiet about these arrows. Ok, go now, join the archers below, their ranks.”

Brundle turned to me, “We’re going to have to set up a barricade, fortifications, near the bridge there. And we should check on the baggage train.”

“Wait a sec. Fortifications? I thought enemy mages would exploit those to hurt our troops. Us. Explode them and all that.”

“That’s generally correct,” Brundle began, “but when we at least equal the enemy in mages, fortifications protect us and magnify our offensive capabilities.”

“Ah, I see. Not so simple then. Alright, by all means, general.”

Resistance was faltering in the enemy army below as groups surrendered, tossing their weapons to the ground. I had another question for the general, “What do we do with those who surrender?”