Battle is Joined

Riding down the center hill that served as Richard's command post, Sir Abbot rode down to the gathered captains at the base of the hill, awaiting his command. Reigns tight in his hands, he looks down at his white steed, its silky main hidden by battle armor. Reaching the base of the hill everyone exchange brief greetings, then Abbot relayed the king's orders.

"Lock your shields men! Turtle formation!" he barked, not even bothering to dismount. Then he abruptly turned around and traveled back up the hill from which he came.

-

"Aw, shit!" Burne yelled realizing he was the only pike man left that hadn't manned position in the front lines, "I gotta get up to the front guys, be seein' you guys, right after we win this fucking fight!" And without waiting for a reply Burne was off to the front.

The remainder of Hayes' friends, Lesly included, all stood in an awkward silence. All were tense in anticipation over the upcoming battle. Then riding in from the left side of the field came their group commander, addressing his men he yelled out

"Turtle formation men, were gonna let them come to us!" Turtle formation is medieval technique in which all footmen bring their shields together in order to form a large turtle like shell around the men. Such techniques were used to deflect oncoming arrows by defending forces. In a practiced form all the men brought about their shields and locked into formation, the first row kneeling to provide extra cover. Inside the shell Hayes couldn't see anything beyond his shield. The formation's one downside, the men can't see for themselves, they had to rely on their commander to tell them when to break, because if they were to break too early, they would be decimated by arrows, to late and the enemy foot men will be on top of them before they could draw arms.

-

Looking down the shaft of the arrow Everett could see the charging Mongols. Just a little closer, he thought. Seconds passed, the men were tense with anticipation. Finally Gomer yelled "folly" and reflexively Everett raised the bow several degrees and let loose his arrow, joining a thousand others, as they soared into the air and onto the charging Mongols. But the horse men were riding to far apart. Many men missed their marks, their arrows lost in the cloud of dust brought on by the charge. Stringing another arrow, the men lowered their elevation to compensate for now shortened gap, and waited.

"Folly, fire at will!" Gomer commanded. He could see all too clearly now, the ineffectiveness of their longbow men. His thought ran wild with ridicule. How could he not have foreseen this? It was so obvious. Oh what a humbling moment this was for him. But his pride could wait, he had to inform the king of their, no his, misjudgment.

Down in the valley the charging Mongols were a rolling thunder to men hidden, sheltered beneath the shell. Inside Hayes could see Lesly through the dim lighting of the shell. With eyes closed, head down, and rear in the air, Lesly was the poster child for a scared recruit. Then the call was given: Break form! Thousands of shields were brought down to their master's side, the final swords were drawn, and the enemy was fast approaching. At his side Hayes could see Lesly, face now calm and composed. Turning to him Lesly smiled, then turned back and pulled down the visor to his helmet.

Looking back, Hayes found the Mongols much closer now. They were just about to clash with the front lines . . . and with Burne! Where was he anyway? Looking at the front, Hayes spotted Burne just as the first horse man jumped.

Burne looked almost gleeful as he skewered a horse as it leaped over him, blood spewing all over his face. Releasing his hold, the speared horse landed on the pike. It was thrusted upward, impaling the rider as he bounced forward from the impact. Eyes cold and glassy, the rider was dead.

Thousands of horses now scaled the living wall, many receiving the same fate as Burne's, but many more went unhindered, A few even went to trample the man under him. Crushing bones and spewing blood over the dry earth.

With the pike men breached and the longbow men ineffective the task was left to sword men to finish the job. Charging the now rampaging Mongols the two forces clashed. Bodies were thrown into air in the initial collision. The horses upon which the Mongols rode fought with the same intense ferocity as their riders. Many wore spikes and horns attached to the front and sides of their head, and would swing in an arch from side to side, bashing in skulls, breaking bones, and spraying blood upon surrounding combatants.

In the beginning Hayes formed a small group comprised of Norvin, Lesly, Irving, Irwin, and himself. Now as the battle raged Irving and Irwin became missing, separated when a rider rode right through them, Lesly had been thrown to the ground in a haze, but Norvin acted quickly lunging his sword into the horse's chest and silted the rider's through with his dagger.

Now there were three of them well, two actually. Lesly was still unconscious. Now the two of them continued to battle the mounted menace. Hayes swung the broad side of his sword at the kneecap of an approaching horse. Falling in pain its rider jumped off, and took his sword and shield of his horse's hide. Staring at each other Hayes mind drifted away from the battle, to his home, his childhood home.

Waking from the dream ayes saw the mountless rider charged at Hayes blindly, his sword swinging madly the whole time as their distance decreased. When the two men came to close quarters the Mongol swung hard in a large vertical sweep as to split Hayes in two, but he moved too slow, for as he swung Hayes dodged, stepping to his side. Standing parallel to the now open Mongol, Hayes swiftly brought down his sword and severed the man's head. Standing over the decapitated body of his adversary Hayes muttered to himself "Stupid Mongol."

Turning back to the now semiconscious Lesly, he was about to help him up when Hayes was startled by an alien hand on his shoulder. Turning around he swiftly brought his sword around to meet this new foe, only to find it to be Norvin.

Bent over and out of breath, he was stained all over with blood, little of it his own. Between his panting he smiled and said "Horsemen running back down valley, we peruse them now. Hey, Hayes we do good yes?" "Yeah, Norvin, we do good." Hayes smiled as he spoke. He couldn't help but think about it. Norvin the bravest, fierce, and strongest of possibly the entire English army, and yet his English was so bad, he couldn't even get his tenses straight