9. Battle Outside Demetras

  “Morganius has captured Demetras?” The Duke of Phesus said, “isn’t he a Baron?”

  “He is lord, that is why all the spies are panicking, he is also a pagan.”

  “Surely the Emperor should be informed of this!” The Duke said.

  The Duke was a large man, strong in the battlefield, tall and blonde, with imposing blue eyes and an even more imposing stature.

  “The Emperor is currently under siege by Bulganum, I don’t think he will do much of anything to a lord who managed to capture territory, besides, it’s hardly like he’ll hold it.”

  Paternus Melodas would wait with bated breath for the news on the front, he was a Crixian fanatic.

  A day had passed, and Demetras had shaky loyalty to Mikel, 2750 troops were lined up and faced up against a Turanian army of 15,000. The army was crack troops intended to destroy any revolts. The Turanian army was vast and could rely on millions of recruits to bolster their ranks, an economy that could fund vast armies to crush the infidel or even any upstart Kena realm, Turan was in the zenith of its power, a vast superpower that could muster troops almost instantly. Morganius on the other hand was a mere wannabe lord who had assembled his forces through looting Turanian armies. The difference was stark and the new recruits panicked slightly, the more veteran mercenaries grinned at the sight.

  “Give them hell Ice Demon!” One man shouted.

  “I will,” Morganius shouted, “now fight them with all you have.”

  The mercenaries put stakes in the ground, waiting for the enemy cavalry to charge them. Morganius stood there with his short brown hair, almost bald, staring at the vast army coming to take him down, thousands were shouting war cries at him.

  “Death to the Pagan. God is great!” The Kena war cry screamed.

  The horse archers came to punish the pagans, the crossbowmen already loading their bolts to fire, but Morganius was ahead of them, firing so rapidly that his new recruits and enemies alike were both stunned into silence.

  “Kill them all!” Myrddin screamed, “for the gods!”

  Tens were dying a second, the ice continuously gunning down the enemy, as the horsemen fell on each other, in some instances whizzing ice shards hit multiple men, knocking them into the dust, to be trampled by other horsemen. The Turanian army was shaken by the sudden affair, partisans had knocked the Mikel flag off the battlements, immediately boosting the morale of the Turanians.

  “Damn it, just our luck,” Zaras seethed.

  “Do not fret!” Myrddin shouted, “those curs can do what they like! We will triumph today!”

  Such a big man’s words did hearten the soldiers. The Turanian army was composed of 5000 cavalry and 10,000 infantry, the cavalry coming first to pepper Morganius’s mercenary army to weaken them, instead they were mercilessly gunned down with crossbow bolts. The cavalry were beaten bloody, their riders falling off constantly, many filled with wide eyed terror. There were 3000 archers who likewise came to pelt the mercenaries with arrows. Morganius saw them and immediately began shooting them, they were panicking and falling down to avoid the constant clacking of ice bolts.

  “Focus on the horse-archers!” Zaras shouted, “our commander can’t get them all!”

  Morale was shaky for the mercenaries for they were outnumbered, but they were soon reloading their bolts and shouting in celebration as their commander actively gunned down the enemy. When thousands of arrows seemingly came their way, Morganius put an ice screen, catching many of the arrows and saving many of his men from looking like porcupines or worse dying.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “I’ll get these bastards!” He screamed, to much elation of his men, “for the gods!”

  They cheered, perhaps not out of genuine belief for paganism but love for their general who was delivering something beyond their dreams. Myrddin caught some horse archers trying to charge the lines of crossbowmen, many of them getting caught on the stakes, the others not being impaled by his small spearmen unit led personally by him. The horsemen were easily bested and routed, the archers watched as the ice screen disappeared and the angry general began mowing them down. The infantry in the madness were led by the general’s retinue to charge the positions hoping to overwhelm Morganius and take the crossbowmen down. Morganius spotted the general, knocking him off his horse, but not killing him.

  “Charge!” The general shouted, his banner men still blasting trumpets to commence the charge.

  “That’s some discipline,” Morganius uttered.

  “That’s Turan for you, their empire has quite the royal authority, they are the king’s troops, their troops are drilled to fight to the last.”

  “Are they now?” Another soldier conversed with Zaras.

  “They are feudal, but the king has a lot more power than Mikel. He appoints the city lords, and they are not hereditary like here in Mikel.”

  “Really, that I did not know,”

  “Even what we could call Barons and counts, village and town lords are direct vassals to the King, only village and town lords can inherit their lands, what would be a Duke in Mikel in Turan is always appointed, that’s part of the reason their troops do that.”

  Zaras was talking while Morganius was blasting, Morganius had zoned out of listening to Zaras, too focused on making sure every enemy was dead. The archers were running, and now Morganius directed his ire on the infantry. His crossbowmen were doing their best, scared at the sudden surging forces.

  “Prepare!” Myrddin screamed, “get ready for impact!”

  The blasting of ice was soon tearing through the Turanian infantry, their thin armour shredded without mercy. Officers were being hit too, and this impacted morale greatly, the charge was stunted, and the horse archers attempted to pepper the crossbowmen or charge the lines killing a few, but mostly leaving the mercenary army unscathed. Morganius hit them for a brief moment, his rate of ice coming from his hand astounding even his own troops.

  “Are there no limits?” One man asked.

  “A reward for good behaviour,” Morganius laughed.

  Morganius hit deep into one line, then across hitting the first in the line, who tripped the others and stopped the momentum of the charge.

  “Fire! Fire! Fire!” Zaras screamed.

  The cranking of crossbows was slow and unwieldy, but it devastated the already beleaguered infantry. The cavalry attempted to flank, albeit devastated by the incessant ice bolts.

  “For victory!” Myrddin said, as he surged forward in a most foolhardy manner.

  Myrddin whacked soldiers up, slicing them across, driving the tide back as soldiers slumped to the ground.

  “Fucking madman…” Zaras seethed muttered, “to arms men! Brace!”

  The crossbowmen got their shields out and their short stabbing knives. It was enough to smack back the charge, all the while Morganius left massive wholes in the approaching infantry. Myrddin did his best to drive them back, but soon they were running.

  “So much for their discipline,” a soldier muttered.

  Zaras had to raise his shield as a bunch of spearmen came for him. Morganius turned to the men and immediately gunned the cluster down.

  Of course I’m sure they’ve never faced something like this.

  “Crossbows!” Zaras screamed.

  The sound of the drawing of the crossbow bolts was heard, the enemy infantry were cracking in many places, courtesy of Myrddin and Morganius, now the crossbows yanked back and hit their targets most efficiently. The enemy infantry collapsed, but not before cavalry whacked from behind, and archers began pelting their positions. Morganius dealt with the cavalry for only a few brief seconds, ending their momentum, but not stopping their damage, focusing on the archers who quickly melted under heavy fire. The enemy bugle men were hit in the throat, collapsing to the floor, these men were critical for long distance commands were officers could not hear the general’s orders. Morganius’s men suffered under the charge, but Myrddin and his spears quickly punished the offending cavalry. Archers arrows hit a few points and enemy infantry unfortunately killed quite a few crossbowmen, but Morganius punished the Turanians in the proceeding moments. They were shot through their stomachs, running away in panic. The mercenaries bayed for blood, rushing down at the frightened Turanians. Morganius had read about feigned retreats, but Zaras could see it was genuine. Morganius joined his men, running after the Turanians while gunning them down. His men shot at people, and stabbed Turanians. 500 cavalry managed to run away, but the rest were slaughtered mercilessly. The walls were filled with Turanian sympathisers, after the mopping up of the Turanian army, they were wailing, holding their hands on their faces in absolute shock. Morganius would loot his enemy some more.

  “Collect the silver and gold!”

  And they did as they were told. Joyful at a stunning victory over Turan.