CHAPTER SIXTY

As Dan and his horsemen arrived on the battlefield they began at once, company by company, to attack the enemy horde. Lance, sword, trident and battle-axe were no defence against their swift, fluid strikes, and the Muraks, where they were exposed, tried to protect themselves by crowding together.
Sarish archers stationed on the slopes around Shymosdak, inactive while the opposing armies were melded together in hand-to-hand combat but able once more to find targets, added to the destruction.
A process was begun in which Sigmar's foot soldiers and cavalry were liberated from the deadly close-quarter struggle which had cost so many of them their lives, and among the first to be affected were Chaldez and those who had been protecting him. No longer under attack, they could take up the offensive; they charged into a crowd of Murak foot soldiers who had their backs to them as they pressed on up the hillside against a smaller Sairish force. The Muraks, finding themselves attacked in the rear, quickly dispersed, and Chaldez rode on up to the stronghold.
Sigmar and his staff were nowhere to be seen. Inside the stronghold he found two soldiers guarding Kraeger, the Murak who had joined Abrikal's Horse, and Morgfest, whom Sigmar had spared outside the town of Metsarn. The Muraks were hobbled and bound in case they were overcome by loyalty to their countrymen. Chaldez was about to ask one of the guards where Sigmar was when a messenger came down from the tower where the lookouts were posted. He led Chaldez outside the stronghold and pointed down the slope to where a section of the Sairish line was pitted against a powerful Murak force. "The king is down there," he said.
Chaldez set off but had not gone half way before he saw Sigmar and several companions coming away. They rode up towards him, and Sigmar, he realised, was hurt. Closer, he saw that the wound was in in his left arm. Sigmar rode past without stopping, only directing at him an expressionless look. His face was ashen.
Chaldez followed him back up the slope and asked one of his staff, a Laifyan called Vled, if he were seriously hurt.
"He says not." After a moment he added "You know that Regdag is dead. Saminad too. I believe there is hardly a karmikval left alive."
Chaldez felt that he ought to be appalled, devastated by the news, but it had little impact. He did, though, wonder about Vanchis. He asked if he too were dead, and Vled, unable to say, merely shrugged.
One of the messengers had come running down the slope to meet Sigmar; Chaldez overheard him declare that the Imperial Horse had joined the battle, and he was surprised that Sigma did not already know. Unable to observe his reaction, he knew soon enough what he was thinking for he turned in his saddle and shouted at Chaldez "Pray to your gods, Zakarrah, they aren't too late!"
Chaldez took this as an invitation to accompany him.
"They are not too late," he said firmly. "Your god and my god have seen to that. Histigga will be destroyed this day."
Sigmar made no reply. Reaching the stronghold, he dismounted, not without obvious discomfort, and headed towards the watchtower; apparently he intended to see for himself what was going on. Chaldez mounted the spiral stairs behind him.
The view from the top was comprehensive. Spread out below, bathed in bright sunlight, was the entire battlefield, and at first glance it appeared to be chaotic. Gradually, however, patterns could be detected, especially on the opposite slope. Large numbers of Muraks were now covering it, and in their midst were the unmistakable circles formed by the Imperial Horse. Beyond the surrounding mass of men, and seemingly wherever the Muraks had an exposed flank, companies of archer-horsemen continued to make their passing attacks, impressive even at that distance.
Immediately below Shymosdak, the Sairish foot soldiers were beginning to make ground against an enemy which had seemed to be on the verge of overwhelming them.
Chaldez was engrossed; only at a shout from the lookout, who had remained uneasily at his post during Sigmar's visitation, did he become distracted. The lookout was pointing at a plume of grey smoke rising from the Murak encampment. At that distance it was impossible to see enough detail to explain it, but as the group on the watchtower stared, more smoke began to appear; the tents and stores of the enemy were apparently being burned, but by whom was a mystery.
The fires were soon producing a pall of smoke which no one could miss, and Chaldez knew what effect it would have when seen from the battlefield. This was the moment he would have flung in his last reserves.
Figures could now be seen emerging from the burning camp. There was a small army down there; a reserve had materialised after all, but it was in the wrong place. Chaldez did not bother to consider where it had come from or of whom it consisted; he only wished there were some way of moving it, bodily, to where it was needed. Never before had he experienced such frustration. His gaze returned to the battlefield.
Among the Muraks on the opposite slope the sight of the smoke was beginning to have the effect he had predicted. Groups and individuals were disengaging; there was a moment of hesitation, and then they were running, some towards the stream and their burning encampent and others in the opposite direction.
Several had almost reached the stream when a body of Murak horsemen rode them down. Chaldez could see that they were being slaughtered, but the collapse which their flight had signalled was gathering pace; everywhere, it seemed, Muraks were on the run, and their masked guardians could do nothing to make them stand and fight.
Considerable numbers reached the stream, crossed it, and finding their way blocked by the advancing force veered to the left and right. They were rapidly overwhelmed.
As Chaldez watched, the half-formed question lurking at the back of his mind found an answer.
"The Feet!" he exclaimed. The irregular foot regiments formed by liberated slaves had come for their revenge.
Chaldez was now seized by impatience; he knew that total victory was just a matter of time, but he realised that his earlier impression of a full-scale route was false. Sections of the Murak's vast army were indeed no longer effective but elsewhere the fighting was as fierce as ever. Very gradually was the balance of strength being altered, and once again Chaldez was longing for the reserves without whom he had never before begun a battle. He made for the stairs.
Sigmar turned. "Where are you going?"
Chaldez was indignant. "To finish this thing off," he snapped.
Sigmar gave a short, scornful laugh and said "So, all my army needs for victory is the aid of Zakarrah!"
Chaldez could barely control himself. "Of course not! But I have a horse and a sword and I am needed."
Sigmar turned away, and when he spoke he seemed to be addressing the battle. "There's been enough bloodshed," he said "My friends are dead. I grew up with them, I spent my life among them and they are dead." He looked at Chaldez, and there was anger in his eyes. "You too would throw your life away. What difference could you make? The victory is in the hands of Arwarnhi now." He turned away once more, and Chaldez studied his profile. He looked old, dragged down by sorrow.
Chaldez moved away from the stairhead and stood beside him, and for a while they watched the scenes unfolding below them. Chaldez had forgotten about the wound in Sigmar's arm until he noticed that there was blood on the flags. "Come," he said, "You must have your arm seen to."
Sigmar, acquiescent, allowed himself to be ushered back down the spiral stairs. Chaldez gave instructions for the wound to be dressed and while the physicians were applying their balms he took over the management of the battle.
The movements which he ordered were astute but made little difference to a conflict whose course was already set. By evening the Muraks were in full flight, and Sigmar was back in command.
The sun sank lower, and Chaldez, who had remained at Shymosdak, was overtaken by exhaustion; he wanted to hear what had become of the two Murak commanders, Jaejisir and Cregitzig, but fell asleep while waiting for news of them.