Warriors [4] Theros Ironfield by Don Perrin Page A

call rang out clearly across the battlefield. Within moments, it was drowned out by the minotaurs’ war cry. The sound was like banshees howling. Forward they went, battle-axes and swords swinging, hungering for elven flesh to tear and rend.
    The elves stopped cold at the sight. Their officers ordered the ranks to close up. The front rank knelt. They fired a volley into the charging, near-berserk minotaurs. Hundreds dropped, but many hundreds kept coming on. Elves fumbled to reload. Many dropped their bows and drew swords, preparing to receive the charge.
    The two lines met with a huge crash of steel and bone. The sheer size of the minotaur warriors, combined with their crazed battle frenzy, were enough to smash holes in several places in the front regiments of elves.
    Klaf was well pleased. His heavy infantry was making short work of the first corps of elves. The charge had cleared over a third of the elven infantry from the first elven corps, or so he could see from where he stood. If he could get that front corps to rout, then they would run back through the following corps, panicking them or at least disrupting their ranks. The morale of his troops would shoot up like an elven arrow to the sun. The key was shock of impact and follow-through force. He had to commit his reserve force of warriors.
    He slapped the bugler on the right shoulder. The din of battle was incredible. It would be difficult to hear the call. Klaf yelled, “Sound the advance!” and motioned to Olik to carry the army standard forward. The clear notes of the bugle sung out over the crash of armies.
    The reserve corps began to march forward into the melee.
    A bright flash in the center of the minotaur line drew Klaf’s attention. An explosion ripped apart a ten-foot circlein the front lines of the lead minotaurs. Twenty warriors fell in the blast. Klaf could not see the source of the explosion, but he knew what it was. Every seasoned battlefield commander knew the sight of battle magic. Somewhere there was an elf war-mage. He had to be close to the front lines, too. The range of spells was limited in field conditions.
    Klaf turned and motioned for two of his bodyguards. “Did you see that explosion down there?” The two nodded. Klaf continued. “Get down there, find that elf wizard, and rip him to pieces!”
    The two warriors saluted and ran off as fast as they could. This was their moment of glory. They skirted past the warriors in the first corps, and through one of the developing holes in the elven line. Breaking out behind the lines of the first elven corps, they ran straight down the rear of the elven ranks. Several elves turned to fight them, but the minotaurs moved so quickly that the elves lost sight of them.
    Klaf kept his eyes fixed on the two warriors. If the war-mage was to continue, Klaf’s whole battle plan could become unhinged. The minotaurs were not magic-using soldiers. Honor and glory lay in battle, not in spellbooks and trickery.
    He spotted an elf surrounded by a small group of four bodyguards. Klaf did not notice the elf before, but now he was obvious. The elf in the center must be either the commander of the first corps or the wizard casting the spells. Either way, his death would aid the minotaurs. The two warriors crashed into the group, axes swinging.
    Another explosion rocked the front of the minotaur line. This time Klaf saw the elf in the group conjure the fireball. It was to be his last spell. Seconds later, the wizard fell. The attacking minotaurs had cut down the bodyguards and were hacking the wizard limb from limb. Elf soldiers from the rear of their brigade turned and engaged the two elite warriors. Four more elves fell before the two minotaurs were cut down. Klaf nodded in satisfaction. The warriors had completed their mission, and died with extreme honor.
    Up and down the line, elves and minotaurs were exchanging blows. The minotaurs had the upper hand, though.Their size and battle skills outweighed the elves’