Herald of Steel

Adhania was a nation that seemed to be quite in favor of trying to resolve their conflicts with talks and negotiations rather than the sword.

This was proved by the presence of various customs and traditions that encouraged dialogue by offering strict protection to the messengers.

And these protocols were indeed strict, as just the simple act of attacking a messenger caused the curse of god to descend, much less forget about killing them, which seemed beyond the realm of possibility.

But it was a possibility that both sides made come true.

Of course, as the side who struck first, Lord Nafi and his entourage did not solely rely on Alexander’s goodwill.

They had taken precautions, such as keeping almost 50 meters away from him.

And given that a javelin had a range of only 20-30 metres, and the men around Alexander were not seen carrying any bows, this distance seemed pretty safe.

But they were wrong.

For they had no idea of the crossbow and hence all ten of the shots found their mark, piercing the armored torso of the man.

And though arrows were not like bullets, meaning a single shot was not as lethal, still, ten shots usually got the job done.

And the action was done so quickly that the remaining two riders, who were Nafi’s bodyguards had no idea what happened, only registering a flurry of hand movements from the opposing sides, the sharp, followed by the piercing noise of stings being let go, and then their lord simply slumping over.

*Neigh*, It was Lord Nafi’s horse that reacted first, giving a cry of horror as it felt the warm blood of its master dye its back, and then the trained beast immediately swerved to start a full-speed gallop to its master’s camp.

The beast was intelligent enough to know that its master was hurt and even knew where to get help from him.

And following the beast’s departure, the other two men too woke up from their stupor, and they too quickly turned tail and ran, a shower of javelins and crossbow bolts following closely behind.

“Don’t let them escape,” Hemicus clenched between his teeth as he and ten others gave chase, and they even managed to kill a second rider with three accurate javelin missiles to the back, until they saw the last remaining rider enter the safety perimeter of his camp.

“Hmmp,” Hemicus let out a low grunt as he stopped his horse from getting too close to the opposing cavalry, a bit peeved at having missed his target, but overall still satisfied at having gotten the main target.

And hence the small squad turned back, not letting themselves fall into a trap.

While the last remaining survivor greeted Faruq who was standing right a the front of the army, witnessing the entire interaction with wrinkled eyebrows.

Lord Nafi dying was not the ideal development he was looking for.

“My lord…Lord Nafi, they…they killed hm. Those animals! They broke the taboo!” He hysterically screeched, letting his voice carry all over the formation.

While Lord Nibraz got down from his chariot to run to his son’s horse, screaming, “My son! Ohhh those bastards! My son!”

The stubborn old man now appeared unconsolable as he grasped the slumped-over body, bawling his heart out, and then saying, “I should have never done that. I should have never trusted those animals uhuhhuu,” as he broke into a whimpering cry.

The reason behind his saying this was because it was him that selected his remaining unmarried son to be the pike bearer, to go taunt and insult his oldest son’s killer.

In fact, Nibraz himself had wanted to do it but was talked down by Faruq.

And this guilt filled with remorse as though Nafi was never as favored as Nibbar, the reason being obvious to anyone who spent a minute with the two, with Nibbar more being talented, cunning, and honey-tongued, and Nafi being brash, haughty, and impulsive, still his death hurt Lord Nibraz like he did not think he would ever feel after his favorite son died.

It appeared that though as a lord he favored Nibbar more, as a father, he loved both his sons equally.

As this drama unfolded between an old man, a horse and a dead body, Faruq tried very hard not to purse his lips in frustration.

A weak old man not in his right mind was not the image a military commander wanted to give right at the start of a battle.

“Lord Nibraz, now is not the time to break down. Now is the time to take to revenge.” Faruq hence stepped in, not offering words of consolation, but words of action, as he pointed to Alexander’s men and almost snarled, “Look the enemy is right in front of us. Gather yourself. Lord Nibbar demands blood. Lord Nafi demands blood.”

Faruq hardened his voice as he addressed the older man, further urging him not to lose the dignity of a noble in front of the common citizenry.

And being a military veteran, soon the retired noble pulled himself together.

‘Yes, you are right. Now is not the time for crying,” The old man rubbed his reddened eyes, as then his crooked, broken, sobbing voice suddenly turned steely and determined, “For now is the time for killing!”

And soon he got back in his chariot.

But that was not the end of it.

Because he then moved his chariot which was in the back on the very frontlines, barking to one of the charioteers, “You, get back!” to make space for him.

It appeared he wanted to lead the charge.

Which Faruq vehemently disagreed with this, shouting, “My lord, you are the commander. Please reconsider!”

The reason for this was obvious.

But Lord Nibraz was like a stubborn bull, shouting, “The charge was to be led to by Nafi. I will not let my son down!”

The old man was seeing red.

And seeing this red-eyed half-mad old man, Faruq wisely backed down, instead taking his horse to Ural and simply whispering to him, “Look after the old man, would you?”

Faruq said this particularly to Ural because he and Nibraz were scheduled to attack in consort, with Ural’s 2,000 horses attacking the center-right column of the enemy (the 3rd and 6th legion), and Nibraz’s 3,000 chariots attacking the other two columns.

With the reason for Nibraz attacking twice the enemy as Ural being due to the need for the chariot to be spread out over a much greater distance, hence making contacting with a greater number of the opposing force.

“Sure,” Ural gave a short nod.

He had no problem with that as they were on the same side.

And thus, soon the 5,000 heavy cavalry were ready.

They were arranged in a 10 by 10 formation, with 10 such formations in one line, meaning there were 2 rows of 1,000 horses for Ural, and 3 rows of 1,000 chariots for Nibraz.

It was a formidable charge.

And as Alexander noticed the horses line up, he shouted one last time, “Men! Now is the time for battle. Ready yourselves!”

“Succeed and you will all be heroes. And if you die, you will all be martyrs. So what are you afraid of?”

“Nothing!” Rose a huge cry of jubilant roars, as the men readied themselves, while Alexander quickly rode to the back to conduct the battle.

And soon the battle reports started coming in.

“My lord, their chariot charge is targeting the left and middle columns, and while the cavalry charge is speeding towards our right column,” A scout reported the movement which to be fair Alexander could easily see from atop his big horse.

Alexander had chosen this horse especially due to its size, letting him get a better view of the battlefield, though he would have probably noticed this even without that.

5,000 cavalry was not something you easily missed.

So Alexander’s hawkishly peered into the distance, watching the cloud of dust being kicked off by all the horses, as they slowly sprinted towards them.

And it was a slow sprint, as horses trotted the kilometer or so distance, one to not tire themselves, but mainly to keep unit cohesion.

And thus all cavalry charges would start like that, covering most of the distance in a slow walk, and only breaking off into a full gallop at the last hundred or so meters making the close to one-ton man and beast accelerate rapidly to great speeds before smashing into the infantry with the maximum momentum.

And it was a great tactic, with the only exception being that it gave the enemy a bit of time to ready themselves.

And that was what the scout was for.

Not there to reassure Alexander that his eyesight was okay, but implicitly asking him, “What should we do?”

“My lord, should we use the new weapon?” Grahtos from the side eagerly suggested.

This was the ingenious thing Alexander had invented to stop the cavalry charge from simply blasting through his infantry.

“Yes,” Alexander naturally nodded.

But that was not the end of the order.

He turned to the scout to officially order, “Tell the 3rd legion to employ the new weapon we invented to halt the cavalry charge just as they have practiced.”

“But tell the 1st and 4th legion to move to the left, and the 2nd and 5th legion to move to the right and let the chariots simply pass them.”

“The reserves will then engage the chariots in the front, while the 5th legion turns around to attack their rear and destroy them. The time of the chariots is over.”