Cavalry Action

Amala and Sintore fight to reach Westmark

10.

Cavalry Action

 

The ride was exhausting for Amala with her shoulder wound, but she was determined to reach Westmark as quickly as possible and that meant going around a circular path to avoid Redburr’s massive army.

 

Sintore kept riding up close to her, fretful that she might have lost too much blood and was about to fall from her horse.

“I’m alright, Sintore.” She said a bit too crossly.   The young squire was just worried about her, but she found it rather annoying.

“We could rest a while, Lady Amala.   The horses will certainly need it.”

 

She knew that was true, and though she would not have abused a horse for all the gold in the Southern Empire, she simply had to push them, for her family and the people of Westmark would need all the help they could get.   So she shook her head and leaned over the neck of her horse to lessen the jolting pain in her shoulder as the horse trotted along.

 

They were travelling on very narrow paths, not often ridden down on horseback, but it was the only way to try to get around Redburr’s army.   Hopefully, she thought to herself, his generals have not heavily guarded these footpaths.

 

The sun began to rise as they went down a steep hill and suddenly, long Flatloaf mountain was before them, its’ foliage a mixture of reds, oranges and yellows in the late autumn dawn.  Amala sighed deeply.

“We’re a bit over three miles southeast of Westmark.” She told her brother’s squire.   "Hopefully we’ll be able to reach town without running into any of Redburr’s men.”

 

But that wasn’t to be the case.   They had turned northward and had travelled for only a few more minutes when out of nowhere came a group of heavily armored horsemen, riding at them from behind with weapons drawn.   She had not heard or seen anything as they had passed the cavaliers’ position, but perhaps in her weary and weakened state she had just missed them.

 

There was no hope of outriding them with their exhausted horses, so Amala quickly pulled out her swords, wincing in pain from her shoulder as she freed them from their scabbards.

 

Thankfully, Sintore kept his wits and pulled his wooden shield from its place on his saddle, then drew his sword.   Then they were upon them, attacking from both sides as they rode past them like a whirlwind.

 

Though her shoulder screamed in agony, she forced herself to swing and spin, holding herself in the saddle with her legs.   The first two horsemen that encountered her fell dead from their saddles as her enchanted swords cleaved through their breastplates.

The third rider wisely did not try to strike her as he passed, but hid behind his shield, which saved his life.

Yet while he rode past, another cavalier passed her on the other side, armed with a horseman’s mace.   He was on the side of her injured left shoulder and due to her injury she was not quick enough to deflect his mace.   It slammed hard into her shoulder, her chainmail not offering much protection from the blunt force of the blow.   The pain made her black out for only an instant, and she managed to stay on top of her mount, though she lost the sword in her left hand.

The riders following the mace wielding horseman saw their chance and pounced upon her like lions.   Her chainmail deflected two sword slashes aimed at her injured shoulder, while she managed to deflect the attacks with her remaining sword on her right flank.

 

There was a brief pause as the cavaliers circled back around to attack again and it gave her a chance to glance around to check on Sintore.

 

Only three of the ten riders had targeted him, but surprisingly, he had fared better than she had.   He had mostly defended himself with his shield, but had wisely come abreast of a tree that kept his right flank shielded from any assaults on that side.

 

It was a wise strategy, Amala reckoned, and she made some movement toward the nearest grouping of trees, yet before she reached them, the five horsemen rode down upon her for a second assault.

 

They were led by the Mace-wielding rider, and Amala was determined to rid herself of his threat.   They came in from behind her, and she leaned over the neck of her horse as if so badly injured that she was barely able to stay on the horse.  Indeed she was in great pain; however, the Drow girl was also enraged.

 

As the first horseman was nearly upon her, she suddenly spun around in the saddle, swinging with all of her might.   Her blade deflected the mace and she quickly angled the blade so that it slid deep into the gauntlet of the rider.   His forward momentum helped drive the blade through his arm and he roared with pain as both his mace and hand dropped to the ground.

 

Amala didn’t pause, but simply ducked under the second horseman’s passing swipe, and then slashed at the underside of his upraised sword arm in the split second that it was exposed as he thundered past.   Her magic enhanced sword ripped through his chainmail arming doublet then into his chest.   The cavalier reeled backwards and tumbled from the saddle, grievously wounded.

 

The third horseman decided to duck behind his shield as he passed, but she managed to get a slash at his leg.   His armor deflected her blow, yet severed the strap of his stirrup.

 

Rider number four had his sword spinning overhead with great skill as he bore down upon her.  He had been trained to expect a specific defense to his attack, which was for her to block overhead with her sword.

 

But the Drow girl was the daughter of Paladins and knew such a maneuver.   With blinding speed, she side kicked with flawless accuracy, aiming for the rider’s upper torso with the bottom of her foot.

 

Her surprise move caught him unprepared for a blow and he tumbled over the rear of his horse, unable to keep himself from falling with both hands clutching his sword.

 

However, her quick move caused her to double over in pain and the fifth rider aimed his blade to take off her head.   She ducked in time, but he changed the course of his blade as he passed and it slammed into her injured left shoulder.   Her Elven chainmail deflected the cut of the blade, but the impact was more than enough.

 

She cried out, her head spinning from the blow, though she fiercely fought to maintain both her balance on the horse, as well as keeping hold of her sword.

 

Before the flashes of light from the pain had left her vision, one of the two horsemen that she had unhorsed was attacking her from the ground.   Hands grabbed roughly at her, attempting to pull her from her horse while she was still stunned.

 

Amala acted instinctively, chopping at the head of the man reaching up to grab her.   His helm was unable to keep her enchanted sword blade from penetrating, so he dropped abruptly to the ground.

 

She didn’t have time to turn or to prepare for her two remaining opponents’ third charge.   So as they rushed upon her, she abruptly slid off the horse on the side opposite them, gently poking the horse’s flank with the tip of her sword to send him into motion.

 

The riders reined in, thinking she had fainted and fell from the saddle, and were unable to see her ruse due to the horse concealing her.

 

But as her horse bolted off, she rushed the nearest horseman.   The rider was distracted just for a moment by her horse’s sudden movement, but it was more than enough for Amala.

 

Her longsword whistled as she aimed her strike at the small gap between the cavalier’s breastplate and tasset.   She found her mark and the man gasped horribly, and then fell dead out of the saddle.

 

Before his companion could react, she had swung up into the saddle, using her left arm, which she realized immediately was a mistake, for she nearly went off the other side as her shoulder howled with pain.

 

Her reaction gave the last rider a chance, and he used his shield as a club, smacking her hard on the right shoulder and arm.   She kept her sword, but the jolt sent a fresh surge of pain through her.   The man could have probably killed her at that moment, but her swordsmanship had so frightened him that he lacked the boldness to press an attack.

 

Instead he used the pause to turn his horse and race back to the security of the three riders attacking Sintore.

 

Four of the ten lay dead, while the rider that had used the mace still sat on his horse, desperately trying with one hand to stop the gush of blood from the stump of his other hand.   A sixth horseman lay near death on top of a small bush where he had fallen from his mount.

 

Amala turned her stolen mount toward Sintore, glancing as she did at the horseman’s saddle.   A large horseman’s mace was strapped onto the saddle, so with great pain, she pulled the weapon free with her trembling left hand.

 

Sintore had managed to slightly wound one of the men attacking him, but he was injured as well and looked to be about to be topple from his own steed.   She had to assist him, so Amala decided to give the horsemen a taste of their own potion.

 

She spurred the steed of the horseman, hoping that the horse would cooperate with a strange rider atop him.   Thankfully he followed her command as well as her own horse did, and sprang forward.

 

The four around Sintore saw her approach, but held their position, turning their attention to her.   She passed by them on the right side, to protect her left shoulder, but it was a narrow path between the horsemen and Sintore, who remained partially shielded by a tree.

As she rushed past, she swung as if aiming for the first horseman’s head, but then suddenly sliced straight down into his upper legs as he sat in the saddle.   Her blade cut him slightly, but his leg armor protected him from serious injury.

 

Immediately another horseman was in front of her, hoping to block her charge with his horse, but she didn’t slow down and the horses jerked to each side at the last instant.   She did an up and down slash at him, managing to cut the tips off two of his fingers that controlled the reins of his horse.

 

She wasn’t able to use her left arm to swipe at the other two horsemen, as she rushed past.   but Sintore helped her by aiming a blow at one of them as they turned to face her.    The rider wasn’t seriously injured by Sintore’s blow, but it kept him from attacking Amala’s weakened side.

 

The other horseman however swiped at her as she passed and her stiff shoulder prevented her from dodging well enough.   A long slash from her nose to nearly her ear told of his success, but fortunately it wasn’t a deep cut.

 

All but the rider with the fingertips cut off, spurred their horses into motion, chasing her as well as to prevent her from making another pass.   This horse was well rested and she let him run, formulating a plan as she gritted her teeth from the throbbing pain in her left shoulder.

 

Ahead was one of the old round watchtowers that her parents had constructed before she was born, which used to be manned as it monitored the southeastern road toward Dullerm.

 

She positioned the horse close to the watchtower wall and followed it in a tight circle around, using the tower to block her turning.

 

Her plan worked, for when she circled back around she was charging directly at them.   The first rider had his sword ready for a passing slash by her, but instead she shot out with a stabbing motion as she passed.   His armor deflected her blade, but she launched into a sideways sweeping cut at the next rider.

 

He parried, but she spun his blade up and inward out of her way then chopped at his neck before he was out of range.   His gorget kept his neck safe.

 

The last cavalier bravely swung at her head, but instead of parrying, she ducked down and let the blade pass over her, and then spun around in the saddle and chopped at his arm.   The sudden movement made her drop her mace from the pain, but her sword slashed through the horseman’s upper arm and he too dropped his weapon as his arm flopped useless to his side.

 

Immediately the man turned his horse and fled as fast as it would carry him, having experienced enough of the Drow she-tiger.

 

The other two, however, were turning around to fight her on horseback.   She turned also, desperate to end this encounter.   As they came at her, she could see fear on both of the horsemen’s faces.   They tried to pass her on each side, but she anticipated this and veered hard right so that the horses nearly crashed into each other.   The horses bucked and reared and for a few moments all three of them had to fight to control their mounts.

 

Just as one of the cavaliers was rearing back to swing his sword at her, out of nowhere came Sintore, galloping on Gamel’s fine warhorse.   He came in from the cavalier’s rear flank and used the flat of his sword to pound the man on the back of his helmet.   With a loud clang of metal on metal, the horseman swayed in the saddle, stunned by the surprise attack, but it gave Amala the opening she needed.

 

She delivered a lethal sword stroke just above where his gorget ended cutting his neck side to side.   He rolled off the saddle only to be trampled on by his own horse.

 

The remaining rider panicked and tried to turn to flee along the same path as his comrade had earlier, but Sintore attacked him from one side as Amala came at him from the other.   In moments he lay on the ground dead from multiple wounds.

 

The horsemen’s injured comrades that were able, had also fled by now and Amala sat hunched over on the horse, gasping for breath as she looked all around for any other adversary.

 

“Are you alright?” She asked the young squire.

“Yes, m’lady.” He replied, and she knew he was trying to hide his wounds from her, though she suspected they were not fatal.

“Can you ride?”

“Yes, m’lady… but you are seriously hurt!”

“I’m fit enough to make it to Westmark.” She replied, tasting her blood as it dripped from her cut into the corner of her mouth.

“L-Lady Amala?”  Sintore stammered timidly.

“Yes, Sintore?”

“You saved my life.   I have never seen such a magnificent display of swordsmanship.   I am forever in your debt.”

 

She glanced over at the young man and was annoyed to see that he had a look of awe as he stared back at her.   It was awe at her skill at arms and a subtle physical attraction.   An infatuated admirer is the last thing she needed right now.

 

“You don’t owe me anything, Sintore.   You probably saved my life as well when you rushed in and attacked.   Gamel would be proud.”

 

From his reaction to her words,   she just made it worse by complimenting him, so with a groan of pain, she turned the horse to head back to the site of the ambush to retrieve her lost sword, and then ride on into Westmark.   Sintore followed like a duckling behind her.

 

Reviews

[Elina]

"She told her brother’s squire. Hopefully we’ll be able to..." You're missing a quotation mark before "Hopefully."
"There was no hope of out riding them..." "out riding" should be one word.
"She wasn’t able to use her left arm to swipe at the other two horsemen, but Sintore helped her by aiming a blow at one of them as they turned to face her as she rushed past." This sentence seemed a little awkward to me.
I so called it! Sintore has a "crush" on Amala... Haha

[Eddie Davis]

Thanks, Elina, yes Sintore has a crush, and there are (or will be) several others as well, much to Amala's dismay.