1154: Equal Scales – Part 9 1154: Equal Scales – Part 9 “DRAW BACK!
DRAW BACK!” The Rogue Commandants found themselves bellowing.
They were students of Khan’s style of warfare.
They’d been too many a battle under the man, and they’d learned how he dealt with montum, by pulling away from a fearso attack, and allowing it to filter out its own accord.
But even with those orders, the n didn’t seem likely to have much of a chance of responding.
There were too many for them to get a handle on.
They were accustod to commanding a thousand each, not five thousand.
Their cries drew reactions from so n, but not all of them, and it was the n that lagged behind that were snatched up by the fury of the Stormfront assault.
Their ill-ford lines were butchered, and the attacks neared their heads.
Eventually, they were forced to give up efforts of leadership, and they were made to deal with the attacks themselves.
“There’s Blessed amongst them,” said a short man, to his taller companion.
He was less calm than his voice would have had his n believe.
“We’ll have to deal with them ourselves.” The man next to him nodded a stoic nod, fiddling with his drooping mustache.
“We are n of the Third Boundary, after all.
It is our duty to step up when the ti arises, even if it ans to forsake our role as Commandants.” It seed a poor bit of strategy that the man was expressing, but the shorter man didn’t have the ti to correct him.
It was far from being a universal truth, but in the situation that they were in, it was true enough to let slide.
“Together?” The short man asked.
There was still strategy, once a man drew a blade, and decided to dedicate himself to the lee.
“Together,” the taller man affird, glancing at Lombard and his progress briefly, before deciding to commit everything he had to stopping the Patrick assault first and foremost.
It was the black-haired woman at the head of the Patrick formation now.
She was the bringing of death.
She was the tip of the arrowhead, forcing Firyr to fall behind to her left, and Jorah, Karesh and Kaya to take charge of the right.
She pushed forward with relentless intensity, until she found a pair of boulders that her sword could no longer cut.
CLANG!
The halt ca suddenly.
She’d tried a slash, to cut down the infantryman in front of her, and then there had flashed a glaive, as the polearm was put in the path of Blackthorn’s weapon.
“Not beginning,” the Verna man said in a poor application of the Stormfront tongue.
“Not happening,” his companion corrected, as he swung his half-moon sword at Lasha’s side, taking advantage of the hold that the shorter man had created.
It ought to have been a finishing blow, but Lasha was too swift of foot for that, and her companions were too watchful.
Jorah had Karesh and Kaya there when they needed to be, throwing off the taller man’s strike, and in that short instant, Lasha was given the opportunity that she needed to free herself, and put distance between herself and the enemy.
“Tsch,” the man tutted, as his sword sliced nothing but air.
It might have seed a failure in his eyes, but his companion did not fail to notice the fact that the Patrick charge had now been brought to a screeching halt.
“LOMBARD!” Oliver shouted.
He still had not engaged yet.
Lombard’s arrival was a curiosity that he couldn’t afford to overlook.
He was well aware that the Captain was angry at him, and he felt almost cheeky shouting his na.
Still, the diligent Lombard did not fail to look up.
This was a battlefield.
It was no place for petty gas.
Not when their very lives were on the line.
Oliver pointed, as soon as he was sure that the Captain was looking.
Straight at those two Rogue Commandants, his finger traced a line.
The veteran Captain almost snarled at the insolence needed to give him orders by a point, or to give him orders at all, but he could not deny the strategy of it.
It was too sound.
Even if he didn’t want to, he was forced to play along with Oliver’s plans.
After all, the man had yet to commit himself.
He raised a cry, his anger lending Command to his voice.
“WITH !
TOWARDS THE CENTRE NOW!” From the flank, they began to carve their path towards where the two Rogue Commandants stood in the centre.
Their montum was almost as strong as the Patrick’s n had been before him.
With the Rogue Commandant’s attention entirely focused in one direction, they proceeded without incident.
“…He’s stolen seven hundred of my n,” Karstly said again, his voice sounding less irritated than before.
“…And he’s commanding them.” “Co, Walter,” Oliver said, gently urging his horse with a pat on his neck.
He knew that the fighting was sure to get violent, and that the quarters were going to be close.
Walter hated fighting in those enclosed spaces, and so Oliver took the ti to reassure the horse in advance.
The beast snorted, and pawed the ground with his foot, as if to state his impatience.
Oliver had to smile at the almost human-like gesture.
Then, he was leaning forward in the saddle, raised up in his stirrups, feeling an increasing amount of wind in his hair as Walter took them from rest, all the way to the height of his gallop.
He tried to ti it to match Lombard as best as he could.
There could be no perfection on the battlefield, but the timing of that charge almost approached it.
Lombard consciously tried to match himself to Oliver the sa.
He understood the intentions of Oliver’s order, and so he did what he could in order to obey it.
Lombard burst through the side of the Verna n, intruding onto the battle that Lasha and Jorah were engaged in, and losing, even now that Firyr had arrived.
Against the likes of Third Boundary n, there was little to be done – that gap was entirely insurmountable.
Reviews
All reviews (0)