36 Battle
Warning! This chapter contains a few brutal and bloody scenes. Read at your own discretion. Skip if you are too young to watch horror movies.
A loud roar of pain rang through the morning air. Balan turned in his saddle and glanced at the surgeon's tent. From the sound of it, the arrow was being removed from Agloval's leg. He grimaced and forced himself to think of something else.
Despite the cold, the forest vibrated with bird song. Smoke billowed from the burning gate and the snapping sounds of the fire made Balan yearn for the hearth in Tristan's room. The surrounding hilltops bathed in the first rays of the sun. But down in the valley a bitter cold tested the endurance of the knights.
A loud cry like a pheasant's sounded in the distance. Balan looked up.
"That is no bird," he said to Galahad.
"No, it was not," Tristan's deep voice commented.
Alarmed, Arthur turned in his saddle and opened his mouth to speak. But at that moment Geraint bellowed from the top of the tree, "Sir! The Woads are gathering behind the north gate!"
Ruccius straightened in his saddle and made the trumpeter signal 'standby for attack'.
Arthur rallied his men for the final assault.
"Knights! These Woads believe that they can take your food and steal your winter rations. Today we will show them that they were wrong to come south of the Wall. We will make them rue that they ever…"
Balan didn't hear what Arthur said. His entire body was tense as he anxiously waited for the first signs of attack. Someone had made that fake bird call. Having grown up on the steppes of Sarmatia, he had been through enough attacks by hostile tribes to be alarmed by fake bird calls. It always signified danger. His eyes scanned the treeline restlessly.
Another fake bird call sounded from the forest and this time it was repeated from within the storage depot.
Suddenly Tristan shouted, "Woads! They attack from the north!"
A loud roar rose up from the forest and about sixty armed Woads came running onto the field, making straight for the Roman infantry. The startled infantrymen turned around and raised their shields to defend the back of the formation.
At the same time the north gate of the storage depot swung open and a mass of Woads stormed out. They carried spears, swords and axes and ran straight at the Roman infantry as well.
Ruccius knew that he had to act fast.
"Artorius! Head them off!" he bellowed, pointing at the sixty Woads from the forest. Arthur and his knights thundered away to block the path of the newcomers.
Ruccius' trumpeter signaled to the infantry to resume their forward position. The infantrymen obeyed instantly and turned to face the Woads that came running out of the gate. Ruccius grimaced. Counterintuitive though it might be, the infantrymen would have to rely on Arthur's cavalry to guard their backs.
The buccinator and trumpeter blared orders to Bedivere's cavalry to attack from the east, and to the infantry at the south gate to enter and purge the storage depot of Woads.
Ruccius drew his sword and rallied his personal guard. "We will take the place of Arthur and his men! Follow me!"
Geraint watched from the tree. Ruccius' plan was failing, the Woads had outsmarted him!
Arthur's men had been supposed to flank the Woads to the west, but now the space between the storage depot and the infantry formation was left undefended. The Woads immediately took advantage of this gap in the defenses. A vast majority slipped past the infantry formation and headed north to the forest. Ruccius and his men – armed with swords, not bows – were unable to stop the flood of fleeing natives.
Arthur and his fourteen knights thundered through the snow to head off the sixty new Woads. The knights spread out behind the infantry and formed a wedge, galloping north to meet the approaching Woads head on. When they got near enough, Arthur bellowed, "Light cavalry, left flank!"
Lanolan immediately led Pelleas, Aggs, Balan and Galahad in a single file past the left flank of the Woads. The boys' bows twanged and their arrows flew at the shouting warriors, taking them by surprise. Several Woads fell, but before the natives realized what had happened, the boys had already swerved away to the east and disappeared.
Meanwhile Arthur and his men crashed their horses into the front of the group – hacking, stabbing, goring and cutting – and engaged the Woads in a fierce man-to-man combat.
Lanolan, Balan and the other boys galloped past the melee a second time and tried to shoot as many Woads in one run as they could. An arrow from Pelleas felled a long-haired warrior who tried to impale Lancelot on a spear. Galahad shot an old man who was taking aim at Arthur with a sling. Balan saw Agravaine go down and prevented two Woads with swords from killing him. Aggs picked off Woads at random and Lanolan was the most zealous of them all. He spent his arrows at an alarming rate and none of his arrows missed their mark.
When the boys reached the end of the melee, Lanolan ordered them back past the fighting men another time.
But when they halted to turn around, Balan saw something that made his heart stop: An enormous crowd of Woads ran past the infantry lines and made straight for Arthur's melee. No, when he looked more closely he saw that the majority avoided the melee and made straight for the forest. But this would still bring them too close for comfort. The boys were at risk of being trapped between the fleeing Woads and the melee – which would leave them vulnerable to attack.
"We'll be caught between two fires!" he yelled.
Pelleas had spotted the problem, too. "Lanolan, we need to get out of here!" he shouted.
Lanolan ignored them. "One more round! The men need our aid! Follow me!" he bellowed.
Balan cursed, but he knew that it was true. Arthur and the older knights were still outnumbered. He glanced at the depot and saw that Bedivere and his men were disengaging from the fight at the gate to come to Arthur's aid. Balan quickly averted his eyes and galloped after the others for a final round of shooting Woads. Picking out the fiercest looking ones as he galloped past, he rained down death on the native fighters.
Where was Tristan? His eyes scanned the melee, but did not find him in the bustle.
"Retreat!" bellowed Lanolan.
There was no time to wait. Pelleas and Aggs were already galloping away, followed by Galahad. Balan hurried after them. The way south was blocked by the Woads. The way east was blocked by Arthur's melee. The forest to the north was too dangerous, as it was not unthinkable that more Woads were hiding there, waiting to ambush them. Therefore the five boys fled west, but their escape route crossed the flight path of the Woads. The boys had to cross ahead of them, or they'd be trapped and face almost certain death.
"Ride!" Lanolan bellowed behind Balan.
They were not going to make it, the fleeing Woads had come too far north. The boys shot desperate glances at each other.
"Shoot them! Drive them back! Ride straight at them!" bellowed Lanolan.
As one, the boys grabbed their bows and shot three volleys of arrows at the Woads. It worked! The Woads in front stopped in their tracks and took cover behind their shields and bags of plunder. Many reached for their bows, slings and axes.
"Ride!" Lanolan yelled hoarsely.
The brief halt had only lasted a moment, perhaps ten seconds, but it was all that the boys needed to make it safely across the Woads' flight path. They thundered across and hurried away to safety. At a safe distance from the Woads the boys reined in their horses. They had escaped! Panting and still trembling with fear and excitement, they exchanged looks of triumph and relief.
"What do we do now?" Galahad gasped. "Flank and skirmish the fleeing Woads?"
"I don't know," Pelleas admitted, looking around frantically. "Where is Lanolan?"
All four boys glanced around. Where was he?
"There!" Galahad pointed.
Now they all saw him. Lanolan had not managed to escape with them. Trapped in no man's land between Arthur's melee and the fleeing natives, he had drawn his sword and was fighting three Woads at once. Lanolan fought bravely and the boys watched in awe as his blows rained down on the native warriors. He managed to kill one, but then the other two pulled him down from his horse.
"They're going to kill him!" Aggs gasped.
"No, he's back on his feet! He's still fighting!" Galahad exclaimed excitedly.
Balan and Pelleas frantically looked around for help. Arthur and the older knights were still locked in battle with the Woads from the forest. Bedivere and his knights were fighting the rear guard of the fleeing Woads. And by the looks of it, both infantry units were now engaged in the melee outside the gate. No help would come.
Lanolan killed the second Woad and engaged the third one, who was fierce.
In the distance a group of twelve warriors split from the column of fleeing Woads. They headed straight for Arthur's melee to join the fight. Unaware that he was in their path, Lanolan parried many heavy blows from his opponent. Even if he would win this fight, there was no doubt in Balan's mind that the twelve warriors would kill Lanolan.
"We've got to help him!" he urged the others.
Pelleas sat transfixed, watching in horror. He knew what was about to happen. "We can't, Balan! We'll be trapped like him!" he answered firmly, with regret in his voice.
"No, we won't! Not if we hurry! Look!" Balan insisted, pointing at the stream of fugitives. The crowd was thinning, no doubt caused by the combined efforts of Bedivere's men and the infantry at the gate. There were several gaps in the column of fleeing Woads.
"Come on!" Balan yelled. He kicked his horse into a gallop and thundered towards one of the gaps. There was no time to argue, they had to act! The sound of beating hooves told him that Pelleas, Galahad and Aggs had followed. Arrows whistled past their ears as they passed between the fleeing Woads. But the four boys crossed back into no man's land unscathed.
"We had better survive this, Balan!" Pelleas bellowed as they thundered towards Lanolan.
Balan pointed at the group of twelve warriors. "Kill them!" he shouted. The four boys drew their bows and shot two volleys of arrows at the native men. Seven Woads fell dead. The remaining five shouted a blood-curdling battle cry and ran straight at the boys.
"Rúúúúús!" Balan yelled and grabbed his axe.
This was what his father had prepared him for: the fear-inducing tactics of the enemy. His father and the other men had yelled and roared at him for hours, day after day, month after month, demanding that young Balan and the two other boys, Dinyar and Jem, keep their focus on their fight and never back down.
Beside him Galahad stiffened in his saddle, his eyes wide with terror.
"Fíííííght!" screamed Balan.
"Rúúúúúúúús!" roared Pelleas and Aggs.
Balan recklessly rode down the first Woad and made his stallion trample the man to death. With a loud roar one of the other warriors reached up to pull him from his horse. Without thinking Balan rammed down his axe into the man's exposed neck. Behind him Aggs and Pelleas brought down a third man and Galahad had also come to his senses. The curly haired boy fought ferociously, killing his opponent by breaking his skull with a sickening crunch of his axe.
The four boys glanced around. Where was the last Woad? And where was Lanolan?
They turned just in time to see Lanolan be disarmed by his opponent and the missing fifth Woad. One of the natives pulled Lanolan's head back and the other placed his sword at Lanolan's throat with a menacing glare. But before he could raise his blade for the killing strike, four bows twanged and the Woads fell dead.
Lanolan sank to his knees and gasped.
"So this is where he'd gone off to," Pelleas scoffed, kicking the body of the missing fifth Woad.
Lanolan had a deep gash in his thigh which was bleeding profusely. Aggs and Pelleas helped him back in the saddle while Galahad and Balan kept a lookout for approaching danger.
"There's another gap between the fleeing Woads," pointed Galahad.
"Let's take it," urged Pelleas.
The success of their rescue operation – not to mention the thrill of surviving their first close combat – seemed to have given Galahad and Pelleas strength and energy. They naturally took the lead.
Balan, by contrast, was exhausted. The adrenaline rush had sapped his strength and he followed the others quietly when they crossed back to safety through a gap between the fleeing Woads.
Keeping a safe distance from the Woads, the boys rode back to the hillock and brought Lanolan to the surgeon's tent.
"Make yourselves useful, boys," ordered one of the healers. "Retrieve the wounded from the field and bring them here. Hurry!"
The snow on the field was red with blood. Ruccius had won the battle, but not on his terms. Many Woads had escaped with bags full of plunder. The older knights had chased them into the forest, but had been forced to give up when the Woads had rallied on the slopes of the hill and opposed them.
Almost an hour after the trumpeter had signaled victory, Balan finally met Tristan. The scout walked between the bodies on the battlefield and killed any surviving Woads. Tristan acknowledged Balan with a nod and then continued his grisly task.
Agravaine was among the severely wounded soldiers. He had a deep stab wound in his side and had to be carried off the field on a stretcher. Lancelot had a head wound which bled profusely, but he assured the boys that he would be fine. Aggs and Pelleas supported Lancelot to the surgeon's tent, while Balan and Galahad took care of his horse and brought the animal to the hillock. Then they returned to the field to continue their search for wounded soldiers.
Finally there were no more wounded left. The boys walked aimlessly between the bodies until they ran into Geraint. The lanky scout ordered them to gather all weapons.
For the next hour the boys gathered all weapons that lay scattered on the field, including some still worn by their dead owners and several that were still embedded in their victims. Recruits from the Roman infantry joined them and together they made three piles on the edge of the field: A large one for the weapons that had belonged to the Woads, a smaller one for Roman weapons, and a tiny one for the few weapons that the Sarmatians had lost in battle, such as throwing darts and axes.
Britons from nearby villages were gathering on the edge of the field and began to rob the bodies. Balan watched as many dead Woads were stripped of their fur coats, cloaks and boots. He shrugged. The dead wouldn't miss them.
Seven Roman infantrymen had lost their lives. Ruccius personally closed their eyes and saluted them. Then the bodies were carried to the supply wagon, which was to take them back to the fort.
TBC