The Rawn Chronicles Book One: The Orrinn and the Blacksword: Unabridged (The Rawn Chronicles Series 1) by P.D. Ceanneir Page B
Authors: P.D. Ceanneir
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armour.
Another from behind pierced his right shoulder; he yelled in pain as he fought off Nithi and Vallkytes with figure of eight sweeps of his sword from his saddle.
An axe man got through his defence and struck his horse in the neck just above the animal’s own laminate plating. The axe lodged deep inside the mare as she reared, and the king fell heavily to the ground. The axe’s owner received a kick in the head from the flailing hooves of the dying horse and he collapsed to the ground. Hagan recovered quickly and continued to fight. He healed the wound in his shoulder around the arrow shaft to give him better mobility with the sword. Soon, a circle of dead surrounded him and he used hardened blasts of air fashioned from the third element to smash away approaching shield men before they encircled him. He was growing weaker by the minute.
Other unhorsed knights came to his aid. Now that he was on the ground, he did not have the advantage of height to see how the battle fared, but it was not going well.
The Roguns had an advantage on the right. Because their horsed archers had thinned the rebel ranks, they now turned their attention on the Vallkyte infantry moving in from the north, and fired volley after volley into the attacking line. It had the effect of stalling the charge for the Roguns to regroup.
Lord Rett had quickly ordered his Carras Knights to charge the Vallkytes coming from the north. The lightly armoured foot soldiers were no match for a charging column of heavy horse, and they soon disappeared under their hooves.
“You must order a breakout, Sire,” said Lord Rett to the king.
Vanduke had seen his brother fall from his horse. He could also see a white-armoured knight riding through the ranks towards Hagan’s position.
“Yes... of course, breakout now.” The strain was evident on his face.
Inside the shrinking mass of the Sonoran host, Hagan’s knights fell one by one to the burly enemy axmen. Sir Perrin, a young knight, was the only one left by his side, and he could barely stand because of his wounds; he turned to the king. “It has… been... a... a pleasure serving with ... you, Sire.”
He ran limping into the mass of enemy and was swallowed up by the multitude.
Hagan breathed hard; surrounded, yet no one came near him. Then the sea of faces opened up and King Kasan walked towards him, his white armour now stained red like the colour of his shoulder guards.
“Ahh... the cunning traitor has appeared,” said Hagan. “What are you gaining from all of this? What did you promise the Nithi?”
“Everything... but I’ll take your head as down payment!” said Kasan, and, with sword in his right hand and battle-axe in the other, he attacked his brother.
The Roguns struggled to breakout; only half their number made it; the Vallkyte and Nithi officers saw their escape and regrouped the soldiers to follow. Vanduke could see in the distance that a circle formed around Kasan and Hagan; tears welled in his eyes.
Hagan was weak from his wounds and from the use of his powers. He also knew from experience that Kasan was a far more skilled fighter than he was. Nevertheless, he went into the attack with a mad rage and caught his brother off guard, denting the beautiful white armour at the chest and slicing a deep gash into his side.
Kasan did not even flinch from the wound, he swung his axe into an upward angle and it slammed into Hagan’s gut, lifting the Sonoran King off his feet and over a pile of bodies. There were cheers from the surrounding men.
Hagan coughed blood and realised some ribs were broken. Kasan attacked again, cutting through the Sonoran steel plate with his Rawn sword; blood leaked over Hagan’s grey armour; he swayed on his legs and fought for breath as weakness overwhelmed him. He used the Rawn Arts as best he could, but his brother severed the flows that sprang up around him cutting off the elemental energies of flame, earth and wind as quickly as Hagan could summon.
Another from behind pierced his right shoulder; he yelled in pain as he fought off Nithi and Vallkytes with figure of eight sweeps of his sword from his saddle.
An axe man got through his defence and struck his horse in the neck just above the animal’s own laminate plating. The axe lodged deep inside the mare as she reared, and the king fell heavily to the ground. The axe’s owner received a kick in the head from the flailing hooves of the dying horse and he collapsed to the ground. Hagan recovered quickly and continued to fight. He healed the wound in his shoulder around the arrow shaft to give him better mobility with the sword. Soon, a circle of dead surrounded him and he used hardened blasts of air fashioned from the third element to smash away approaching shield men before they encircled him. He was growing weaker by the minute.
Other unhorsed knights came to his aid. Now that he was on the ground, he did not have the advantage of height to see how the battle fared, but it was not going well.
The Roguns had an advantage on the right. Because their horsed archers had thinned the rebel ranks, they now turned their attention on the Vallkyte infantry moving in from the north, and fired volley after volley into the attacking line. It had the effect of stalling the charge for the Roguns to regroup.
Lord Rett had quickly ordered his Carras Knights to charge the Vallkytes coming from the north. The lightly armoured foot soldiers were no match for a charging column of heavy horse, and they soon disappeared under their hooves.
“You must order a breakout, Sire,” said Lord Rett to the king.
Vanduke had seen his brother fall from his horse. He could also see a white-armoured knight riding through the ranks towards Hagan’s position.
“Yes... of course, breakout now.” The strain was evident on his face.
Inside the shrinking mass of the Sonoran host, Hagan’s knights fell one by one to the burly enemy axmen. Sir Perrin, a young knight, was the only one left by his side, and he could barely stand because of his wounds; he turned to the king. “It has… been... a... a pleasure serving with ... you, Sire.”
He ran limping into the mass of enemy and was swallowed up by the multitude.
Hagan breathed hard; surrounded, yet no one came near him. Then the sea of faces opened up and King Kasan walked towards him, his white armour now stained red like the colour of his shoulder guards.
“Ahh... the cunning traitor has appeared,” said Hagan. “What are you gaining from all of this? What did you promise the Nithi?”
“Everything... but I’ll take your head as down payment!” said Kasan, and, with sword in his right hand and battle-axe in the other, he attacked his brother.
The Roguns struggled to breakout; only half their number made it; the Vallkyte and Nithi officers saw their escape and regrouped the soldiers to follow. Vanduke could see in the distance that a circle formed around Kasan and Hagan; tears welled in his eyes.
Hagan was weak from his wounds and from the use of his powers. He also knew from experience that Kasan was a far more skilled fighter than he was. Nevertheless, he went into the attack with a mad rage and caught his brother off guard, denting the beautiful white armour at the chest and slicing a deep gash into his side.
Kasan did not even flinch from the wound, he swung his axe into an upward angle and it slammed into Hagan’s gut, lifting the Sonoran King off his feet and over a pile of bodies. There were cheers from the surrounding men.
Hagan coughed blood and realised some ribs were broken. Kasan attacked again, cutting through the Sonoran steel plate with his Rawn sword; blood leaked over Hagan’s grey armour; he swayed on his legs and fought for breath as weakness overwhelmed him. He used the Rawn Arts as best he could, but his brother severed the flows that sprang up around him cutting off the elemental energies of flame, earth and wind as quickly as Hagan could summon.
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