in their flanks. Momentarily bewildered, the Veryan forces found their footing and fought back with a vengeance, blades clashing against shield and short spear.
Rhyfelwyr found himself fighting alongside Gwyth and and Locsyn, the three of them broad enough to block a small alley, using their mass and their skill to carve into the Lianese troops. Gwyth was less graceful, using his brute strength to batter the foes in front of him with his shield, before slamming his crescent axe through their armour. Taflen had taken station at their backs, and his sword flickered over the shield wall whenever an opening appeared, oft taking a foe in the neck, leaving them writhing and bloody on the ground.
An arrow slammed into Gwyth’s arm, causing him to curse and look upwards. Archers had taken station on the roof above them, and were picking their spots to fire into the Veryan squad. Rhyfelwyr glanced at Gwyth’s wound and then upwards, muttering, for he could not use his shield to protect both his front and his top. Waving with his sword, he called for the others to step back, slowly disengaging from the Lianese forces in order to make a break away from the archers. Staying alive was more important than killing these few soldiers.
Locsyn screamed, and Taflen saw a javelin had been thrust through his shield and the arm holding it, locking the two together and leaving it almost useless. Diving forward, he brought his shield up in time to stop the thrust coming over Locsyn’s useless defences, and was able to flick his sword out in a low cut, hamstringing his opponent. Stepping in front of his friend, the historian placed his shield so that it might cover both of them as best as possible, and began to step backwards, Locsyn taking Taflen’s former place at the back of the shield wall, his sword stabbing over the defences, but without much strength behind it, for his wound was grievous and incapacitating.
The Lianese soldiers pressed forward, shouting for more arrows to fall upon their foes. Their answer came as a body plummeted from the roof to slam into a Lianese soldier, breaking his neck. Two more bodies fell, landing again on soldiers, and then arrows began to rain down, piercing the bodies of the Lianese as they sought to retreat from the suddenly charging trio of Rhyfelwyr, Gwyth, and Taflen. The Lianese fled only a few steps before they were cut down, blades slicing through kidneys and spines. The sergeant looked upward and raised his sword in salute, knowing he would see Llofruddiwr standing there. Sure enough, his old friend waved back, captured Lianese bow in hand, before disappearing behind the roof line.
A hand clapped Rhyfelwyr on the shoulder, and he spun round to see Rhocas standing behind him, along with two more squads of soldiers. “What are you doing here, lad? You’re supposed to be in the main van.”
Rhocas chuckled. “Always new orders. Didn’t you tell me that? I’m supposed to assist you in capturing the warehouses, along with this lot.”
“Good. Give us a few minutes and we’ll be ready. Llof is scouting ahead.”
Rhocas nodded, and the soldiers sat in the alleyway, free to rest. While they waited, a cutter came and attended to the wounds on Gwyth and Locsyn, breaking the arrow and pulling it from Gwyth’s arm. The large man grunted once, then fell back into silence. For Locsyn, the cutter had to saw through the metal head of the javelin, and by the time he was done, the veteran was white, his face sweating as he breathed rapidly. Pulling the spear from the wound saw Locsyn faint away, while the cutter stuffed herbs into both ends of the wound before wrapping it in cloth.
Rhyfelwyr gave Locsyn a few minutes unconscious before prodding him awake. Sighing as he rose to his feet, Loc undid the straps from his shield and stuffed his now-useless left hand into his sword belt. Glancing at the assembled soldiers, Rhyfelwyr nodded once, and set off towards the warehouses.
Several times they were
Rhyfelwyr found himself fighting alongside Gwyth and and Locsyn, the three of them broad enough to block a small alley, using their mass and their skill to carve into the Lianese troops. Gwyth was less graceful, using his brute strength to batter the foes in front of him with his shield, before slamming his crescent axe through their armour. Taflen had taken station at their backs, and his sword flickered over the shield wall whenever an opening appeared, oft taking a foe in the neck, leaving them writhing and bloody on the ground.
An arrow slammed into Gwyth’s arm, causing him to curse and look upwards. Archers had taken station on the roof above them, and were picking their spots to fire into the Veryan squad. Rhyfelwyr glanced at Gwyth’s wound and then upwards, muttering, for he could not use his shield to protect both his front and his top. Waving with his sword, he called for the others to step back, slowly disengaging from the Lianese forces in order to make a break away from the archers. Staying alive was more important than killing these few soldiers.
Locsyn screamed, and Taflen saw a javelin had been thrust through his shield and the arm holding it, locking the two together and leaving it almost useless. Diving forward, he brought his shield up in time to stop the thrust coming over Locsyn’s useless defences, and was able to flick his sword out in a low cut, hamstringing his opponent. Stepping in front of his friend, the historian placed his shield so that it might cover both of them as best as possible, and began to step backwards, Locsyn taking Taflen’s former place at the back of the shield wall, his sword stabbing over the defences, but without much strength behind it, for his wound was grievous and incapacitating.
The Lianese soldiers pressed forward, shouting for more arrows to fall upon their foes. Their answer came as a body plummeted from the roof to slam into a Lianese soldier, breaking his neck. Two more bodies fell, landing again on soldiers, and then arrows began to rain down, piercing the bodies of the Lianese as they sought to retreat from the suddenly charging trio of Rhyfelwyr, Gwyth, and Taflen. The Lianese fled only a few steps before they were cut down, blades slicing through kidneys and spines. The sergeant looked upward and raised his sword in salute, knowing he would see Llofruddiwr standing there. Sure enough, his old friend waved back, captured Lianese bow in hand, before disappearing behind the roof line.
A hand clapped Rhyfelwyr on the shoulder, and he spun round to see Rhocas standing behind him, along with two more squads of soldiers. “What are you doing here, lad? You’re supposed to be in the main van.”
Rhocas chuckled. “Always new orders. Didn’t you tell me that? I’m supposed to assist you in capturing the warehouses, along with this lot.”
“Good. Give us a few minutes and we’ll be ready. Llof is scouting ahead.”
Rhocas nodded, and the soldiers sat in the alleyway, free to rest. While they waited, a cutter came and attended to the wounds on Gwyth and Locsyn, breaking the arrow and pulling it from Gwyth’s arm. The large man grunted once, then fell back into silence. For Locsyn, the cutter had to saw through the metal head of the javelin, and by the time he was done, the veteran was white, his face sweating as he breathed rapidly. Pulling the spear from the wound saw Locsyn faint away, while the cutter stuffed herbs into both ends of the wound before wrapping it in cloth.
Rhyfelwyr gave Locsyn a few minutes unconscious before prodding him awake. Sighing as he rose to his feet, Loc undid the straps from his shield and stuffed his now-useless left hand into his sword belt. Glancing at the assembled soldiers, Rhyfelwyr nodded once, and set off towards the warehouses.
Several times they were
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