十八书屋自由阅读小说

Chapter 12: Blood feud (4)

They were the juggernauts of the sultan, none in the world would dare say he does not know who they were.

Nightmares of the cavalry and monsters of the desert, they were \'the riding bane\' and the world would witness their charge once again.

With a thunderous cry of \'\'ALALALAI\'\' - \'\'ALALALAI,\'\' the riders charged forward as was tradition before battle. This custom had been passed down for generations in the sultanate of Azan, dating back centuries to when these fierce warriors were known as the sand riders. For two hundred years, they had roamed the desert, raiding caravans and farms and setting up camps near oases where cities would eventually flourish, at that time that old desert was known as the shifting gold sea .

But all that changed 150 years ago when Afarah The Tall subdued all the tribes residing in the Qarzla Desert. It took him 25 long years, but his life\'s work was to bring peace to the land. He slaughtered dozens of tribes , took the sons of each chieftain as hostages, and then settled them elsewhere. Yet some could say he caused even more damage instead , as after the passing of each sultan the tribes would revolt and use their camels to strike in different places and then retreat before they would encounter resistance, they did not know how to sow only on how to rob. However, things took an unexpected turn when Mursma The Fair ascended to the throne. Instead of massacring the population, raiding their camps near the oasis and subsequently causing the survivors to form bands of bandits like his predecessors, he chose a different approach. He allowed the sand riders to settle down in exchange for their loyalty and military prowess.

This arrangement proved beneficial for both parties. The sultan had powerful allies on his eastern border who could easily handle his western foes\' heavy cavalry, and the sand riders were given free rein to pillage and plunder any unclaimed land that did not bear the sultan\'s banners, which on the eastern borders they were stelled were many . Over time, this alliance grew stronger, and after 90 years, the sultan even formed an elite force known as the Riding Bane, consisting of only the strongest and most skilled riders among them.Which would then become their most loyal forces.

For now, however, these camel riders were not fighting for the sultan, but under orders from the prince of Arlania. Just as the prince had hoped, the emperor had taken the bait and charged with his reserve forces at the flanking unit. This meant that the only remaining forces in battle were his archers and cavalry, both of which were just meat to be slaughtered by the "riding bane."

With the emperor\'s forces committed to the flanking maneuver, the prince knew that his plan was unfolding perfectly. The archers and cavalry were now exposed and vulnerable, with no reinforcements to come to their aid. It was the perfect opportunity for the camel riders to strike and deliver the decisive blow that would secure victory for Arlania.

The camel riders rode forward , their mounts moving swiftly and gracefully across the shifting sands of the battlefield.500 lances rose in the sky , as the shouts of the riders of the desert was heard by everyone. As they advanced, the archers of the enemy forces hurriedly knocked their arrows, drawing their bows and releasing their shafts in rapid succession.

The arrows flew through the air, cutting through the space between the archers and their targets with accuracy. But to their dismay, they found their mark with little effect. The arrows bounced harmlessly off the sturdy armor of both the riders and their camels, their metal plates and thick hides providing ample protection against the feeble projectiles.

Undeterred by the failed barrage, the archers continued to unleash volley after volley of arrows, hoping to find a chink in the armor of the approaching camel riders.What else coud they do? But no matter how many arrows they sent flying, they could not penetrate the defenses of their adversaries.

Without warning, they came charging in like a ferocious thunderstorm. Axes swung with deadly force, cleaving through necks with ease. Lances, sharp and menacing, impaled archers on the chest as if they were nothing but mere insects. Amidst the chaos, some riders even threw javelins for the sheer thrill of it, their weapons finding their targets with deadly accuracy while others merely sank into the soft sand.

The archers stood no chance against this onslaught. Their arrows were useless against heavily armored foes on horseback. If only they had lances to match their opponents, perhaps they could have fought back. With one swift thrust, they could dismount their enemies or even slay their steeds. But alas, they had none and were paying the ultimate price for it.

The once pristine sand was now stained with blood and littered with the bodies of fallen archers. The air was filled with the clash of swords and the cries of wounded warriors. In just five short minutes, over two hundred archers lay dead on the ground, while only one rider was killed .That rider in particular had his fate sealed when a sword cleaved through his beast\'s foot and sent both him and his mount crashing to the ground, shattering bones upon impact.

Despite their best efforts, the archers could not hold back the monstrous forces that surrounded them. Everywhere they looked, they saw their comrades being mercilessly cut down by the enemy\'s mounts. The sight was enough to break their resolve and send them running for safety.

But their leaders were not about to let them flee without a fight. "Come back, you cowards!" they cried out, desperate to rally their troops. "You will be decimated if you run! Come and fight for glory!"

They even tried to appeal to their greed, reminding them of the promise of riches and glory that awaited them if they emerged victorious. They warned of the consequences of desertion, but none of it was enough to stop the sea of panicked men from fleeing.

In the end, nothing could stop the stampede, as fear and desperation took hold. The gold they had been promised seemed insignificant compared to the overwhelming force that threatened to crush them all. And so they ran, hoping to escape with their lives intact.

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"Your Grace, the archers have fled! The enemy is closing in fast! We must flee before it\'s too late! The battle is lost!"The panicked voice of a noble cut through the chaos of battle as he knelt to the man

The emperor surveyed the scene before him with a heavy heart, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and emotions. His infantry was making headway, carving through the ranks of mercenaries and driving them back. But the enemy\'s camel riders were advancing, their looming presence a daunting threat on the battlefield.

Cursing under his breath, the emperor berated himself for falling into what seemed like an elaborate trap set by Arzalat, the Prince of Arlania. "Damn that bastard," he muttered, begrudgingly acknowledging the audacity of his adversary\'s tactics.

\'One has to have big balls to try something as dangerous as this , so either he was a brave madman or he trusted his infantry to keep fighting even when flanked by two sides .\' he mused

"To think he would join hands with the sultan... I\'ve been made a fool of."

Despite his frustrations and regrets, the emperor knew he had to make a decision - and quickly. Should he retreat and save himself, riding south towards the safety of the camp? It was a tempting option, but fraught with risks. If the arlanian nobles during their march home, caught wind of his retreat, they might seize the opportunity to to gain the goodwill of their ruler .Nothing spell loyalty more than presenting the head of thier biggest of enemy

But another voice within him urged him to stand firm and fight. "You can do it," it whispered, pushing him to consider the possibility of victory. "The camels are focused on the archers below. If you charge with your clibanarii, you can turn the tide of battle in your favor.Luck favor the bold Gratios, raise your lance and charge "

Torn between the urge to flee and the desire to seize victory from the jaws of defeat, the emperor hesitated, weighing his options carefully.

"Your grace," the noble\'s voice pierced through the chaos of battle, "we must act swiftly. The enemy will soon come to us \'\'

The emperor\'s response was immediate as he unsheathed his sword, its steel glinting in the sunlight. "I refuse to flee," he declared boldly to his followers. "Look, my lords, those bastards are occupied with the archers. They will not be able to mount a successful charge against us. We have the advantage here, we can break through their lines and be the first to shatter the sultan\'s riding bane in all of history . Glory awaits us, my brothers, let us seize it like lions."

With a determined roar, the emperor spurred his horse forward, followed by his clibanarii and loyal nobles. For if they were to turn and run now, they would surely face ostracization or even arrest for cowardice, so for many, death was much more preferable than to flee.

Though they all knew that they were riding after their death, after all there was a reason for which Camels were never defeated by horse in the desert.

Horses were spooked by those beast, making a charge a futile attempt.

However, they did not dare speak up or question their leader\'s decision. Instead, they held their tongues and raised their lances, preparing to ride forward into battle, determined to protect their emperor at all costs and to welcome death with a brave face, that was the true duty of a noble

\'\'GLORY TO THE EMPIRE\'\'