Nasr’s army stood on the bridge, a shield wall holding the line. The bridge could only support a 10 wide wall, to hold the onslaught of n coming at them. Harun stood in the middle of his n. A shield wall led, with spears behind. Each step taken was with purpose.
"SHIELD WALL PUSH!" With each shout, Harun’s forces pushed Nasr’s forces back, the spearn stabbing in between the gaps created before the wall quickly closed. Nasr’s army held strong, but not strong enough. Although it was negligible, they moved inches back with each push.
"SHIELD WALL PUSH!" Once more Harun’s voice called out, the defending n felt their knees buckle as they ducked below their shields trying to dodge the spears. Attacks were thrown in the small window available to try and destroy the impenetrable wall charging at them but had poor results.
Archer fire rained over the lee on the bridge, blocking out the sun with each volley. The cries of pain and tal clashing filled the air as the river below was dyed red. Each ti a man died, their body was pulled back and thrown over the bridge to not halt the push. It was slow and brutal but Harun’s forces advanced.
They were a well-oiled machine. Each move had a purpose. They were all battle-hardened and experienced, having fought nurous battles and skirmishes on the Northern Border. Nasr forces, on the other hand, were disorganised. Years of peace had made the generals complacent in tactics related to warfare and the soldiers unaccustod to war.
The raining arrows were a much-needed sigh of relief for both sides that slowly chipped away at the opposing forces. Nasr, however, was the only one who couldn’t, as he watched in horror as his overwhelming superior numbers were pushed back every ti Harun shouted. What should have been an easy victory on the field didn’t matter on a bridge that could only hold a ten-man wide push.
Seeing this, he tried to think of sothing. Looking at his cavalry waiting for him, he sent them in. 500 horses ran across the plain, easily spotted by Harun and Ali. Harun didn’t bother to acknowledge them, knowing that Ali had his back covered. "ARCHERS!" Ali’s voice echoed in the background, getting everybody’s attention. "SQUARE FORMATION!"
In minutes, the archers gathered together, making a tight square behind the main force. They quickly returned to firing on the enemy. "SPEAR N!" Ali’s voice called out once more. The reserved spearn knew what order was coming next and quickly began to move before it even was called, "CREATE A DEFENSIVE WALL!"
A wall of shields and spears created a wall around the archers who fired with freedom. "HORSES GATHER!" His call gathered the 200 horse riders to his side, as they rode across the plain to intercept the oncoming force. They were outnumbered but it didn’t matter to them. Each rider was skilful enough to take on five riders at once.
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20 or so riders shot arrows from the back of their horses into the opposing riders, as Ali led the remaining few in a daring charge. Their horses wore heavy steel armour, anwhile, those opposing were lightly equipped in leather. Ali led the charge, a grin on his face and pike in hand. 20 ter. 10 ters. 5 ters. With a strong thrust, his pike pierced through the heart of the rider he was coming against.
Using his shield, he deflected an attack from his left as he ducked, speeding up and passing the oncoming horde. He threw his pike to the ground, now useless. Turning around, the survivors gave chase. Ali smiled, seeing that only around 10 of his n had died or beco incapacitated, compared to the 30-odd on Nasr’s side.
The horse archers, in amours similar to the one worn during the raid, swiftly circled the undisturbed horde, still firing arrows. Nasr’s commander circled, once again eting Ali. He gritted his teeth seeing how outmatched they were in amour and skill but charged anyway. To attack the archers now was suicide, leaving him and his n sandwiched.
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Harun looked over into the plain behind him watching the horses clash against one another. Seeing that Nasr’s horses were busy and weren’t defending the main army from a flank, he pulled a whistle from his pocket. Blowing into it, he heard more whistles co from behind. A group of archers pulled arrows wrapped in cloth. Setting it alight the ten archers shot into the sky.
The arrow flew high before creating a loud bang that reverberated across the battlefield. Nasr looked up with a confused face wondering what it was, but brushed it off as nothing important, just being a tactic to scare him. "KEEP FIGHTING N!" His shouts were drowned out by the carnage happening on the bridge, as he stood back watching everything unfold.
Harun smiled at his brother’s ignorance, knowing that his plan had succeeded. "SHIELD WALL CHARGE!" With his shout, the vigour in the n increased as a continuous rain of attacks fell on Nasr’s defending army. "CHARGE!" "CHARGE!" "CHARGE!" Each ti he shouted, a heavy push befell the defenders, as spears stabbed through.
The defending army looked on with horror as they felt they were fighting an army of immortals. The lack of defence due to Harun’s charge made it easier for them to kill the enemy, yet the number seed to never fall, each dead man being instantly replaced with another.
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Nasr watched and through gritted teeth raised his sword pointing towards the bridge. A second wave of n was sent to defend against the attack force and try and slow the attack. He tried to look past everything towards the back. He had already sent the caverly and wondered what was holding them up.
Ali and his n didn’t give up. With each charge more and more of them fell. They tried to cut down the numbers as much as they could, but they were getting tired and wounded. Their horses getting increasingly slower than their opponent due to the heavy amour. He knew ti was up. Grabbing a horn from his belt he blew on it, as they quickly slipped away, running back towards their camp.
Nasr’s commander wanted to give chase but knew it wasn’t his mission. Looking at the archers and the shield wall, he pointed his sword towards it, leading his remaining 400 horses. The n in the wall breathed heavily, waiting for the order. Each second they watched the large horde surround them, their breathing beca heavier.
Only once they were within a couple of ter range the order ca. "LUNGE!" A sea of spears shot out towards the charging horses that tried to jump over. Many fell crushing the people below, as they found themselves within the sea of archers, who pulled out the short swords on their side redirecting their focus.
Within the sea of n, the horse tried to carve a path to escape, trampling over anyone that got in their way, but it was a sluggish affair that coated them with wounds every ter they went. After a couple of minutes, those surviving managed to escape. They quickly ran for the shallow water.
At least half the archers died or could no longer fight. Ali watched the fleeing force and shook his head. It was a stupid move on their behalf, losing half of Caverly from the suicidal move. Yet it was what he and his grandson needed. Kicking his horse he and the remaining hundred riders gave chase. Gone was the heavy amour, having quickly taken it off. Bows in hand they shot at the escaping forces trying to cut down their numbers
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Harun heard the horn behind him and knew that the lives of his archers were in the shield walls’ hands now. But it didn’t concern him. From the distance behind Nasr’s camp, he saw it. The 500 heavily armoured n charged at the backline of Nasr’s camp. He knew that most of those n would die by the end of the night, but it was his hope they would serve their purpose and disrupt Nasr’s camp.
They charged those waiting for Nasr to give the order to charge the bridge. Oblivious to the approaching n from behind, many died without realising what had even happened as a massive lee broke out within the backline. The leader of the force smiled, "DEATH TO THE FAKE SULTAN!" His words were shouted across the back as his n followed his lead, shouting the words.
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The commotion didn’t go unnoticed by both sides. Unsure of what was happening, Nasr looked behind. "KILL THE TRAITORS!" Believing his n had mutinied, he sent two battalions to help his already fleeing n. The 500 quickly created a square formation, prepared for sothing like this, making an impenetrable wall.
Those of the north saw their comrades giving their lives for the battle. It got their blood flowing as the attack on the bridge beca fiercer. Harun, seizing the mont took to the front. "LOOK AT YOUR PATHETIC SULTAN! HE DOESN’T EVEN FIGHT ALONGSIDE YOU AND YOUR COMRADES REVOLT!" His mocking words shouted across the bridge towards the defending force, as he stabbed his spear into man’s skull. "BLOW THE HORN!" With his order a horn, signalled from the back. Ali’s horses pulled back no longer giving chase and returning to camp.
Fifteen minutes later, he returned, his n and horses having a small break to reenergize. Back was the heavy steel amour as he led his n across the shallow crossing. Nasr watched as forces closed in on him from all fronts. Contradicting orders flew from his generals who were unable to coordinate together.
He had only lost around 900 n, but morale was plumting as they faced assaults on nurous fronts and a believed mutiny. Nasr felt his breath quicken as he tried his hardest to keep himself composed. It was a near-impossible feat, feeling the viper’s grip on his heart.
On the bridge, his n kept being pushed, only a matter of ti before Harun’s forces broke through. Behind him, a mutiny broke out and switched sides. And on his right, Ali inched closer. His eyes darted from one place to another and he knew that it was over.
Blowing the horn for retreat, he scread across the field, "ALL FORCES RETREAT!" Horns went off all around Nasr’s camp as the soldiers tried to organise themselves and flee.
Those on the bridge tried to hold on as long as possible giving a chance for those behind to escape before they crumbled. It was a useless endeavour, with the support from behind quickly fracturing, they no longer had the strength to hold. The northerners slaughtered their way through anyone who didn’t surrender, eting the back of a fleeing army.
Ali held off giving a full chase, seeing Nasr’s horses circling the retreating army, protecting it, instead targeting stragglers who refused to surrender. With his army through the bridge, Harun pursued, not giving an inch. Ali’s horses watched like predators, not giving Nasr’s own Caverly a chance to intercept.
Throughout the day Harun gave chase, only forced to stop by his dwindling n who collapsed from exhaustion. He looked at the distanced army that escaped his grasp and clicked his tongue through his laboured breathing. He cursed, being so close to ending the war, but he knew his n would be the ones to win it for him and could only retreat.
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