a narrow rift ahead, an incredible sight, as long-haired Goeren-yai spurred their wiry little animals across rocks, steep sides and tangled undergrowth.
Sasha pointed with her sword, and saw Errollyn nod. They wheeled downslope for a run-up as the two stakes nearest the rift came down…other horsemen were already spurring toward it, yelling as they went, as those waiting jostled for position to make their own charge. Sasha yelled for them to make way, and men did so, looking around in startlement as they realised who it was. Sasha dug in her heels and sent Peg racing, the serrin close behind. She saw infantry on her left fighting madly to close the gap, more rebels circling back to stop them, a dussieh going down screaming under spear and sword thrust…
Peg hurtled up the slope and rushed over the broken defensive stumps, Sasha then turned him left amidst the trees in a wide circle, realising immediately that the best way to defend the breach was to outflank the men trying to close it and cut them to pieces. From this side of the stakes, she could see the mass of infantry building against perhaps thirty of her horsemen, who wheeled and circled, swinging furiously as the foot soldiers tried to overwhelm them, bringing down several. She accelerated to top speed, weaving narrowly past the sides of trees…an arrow felled one infantryman in front, the others scattering as the massive black warhorse crashed through. Sasha slashed from side to side, more in hope of creating confusion than clean kills, reining Peg about before the stakes, lashing and kicking. Then the serrin were in amongst it, all save Errollyn, who held back and felled any infantryman who threatened a blindside swing at his comrades.
A horn was blowing somewhere above the screaming, yelling and crashing, and then the infantry were falling back, attempting to maintain some kind of order, officers screaming at those who panicked and tried to run. They retreated along the line of pikes, dodging behind trees to avoid cavalry attacks—they had shields, a most un-Lenay device amongst foot soldiers, and they used them to form an armoured perimeter where they could.
Sasha spurred Peg into another run, headed upslope once more through the trees, searching for any sign of a second defensive line that might fall upon them from beyond…there seemed to be none. It seemed that three thousand men were not enough to hold Ymoth without its wall complete—these sloping flanks were too wide to allow a sufficiently strong first line, plus a secondary line. The defenders had gambled on a strong first line, and lost.
She'd won, the astonishing thought occurred to her in that instant. Bad defensive strategy, perhaps…fortuitous offensive strategy, certainly. But a victory, all the same. Yet men were still dying. She had to end it fast.
“Get to the town!” she yelled at the top of her voice, waving her sword for attention. She reined up a little as her vanguard flagbearer caught up, attracting attention once more…and hopefully not from surviving Banneryd archers. “Get to Ymoth! To Ymoth! Take the town!”
She raced through the trees as fast as she dared, other horsemen now breaking away from their engagements to follow—and that trickle became a flood. Rocks and undergrowth confused their passage in places, breaking the smooth carpet of pine needles. Finally, the land fell away into a sloping shoulder where the trees became thin, with ferns and bush holding thickly to the slopes. At the bottom of the shallow valley ran a stream. Downstream, where the valley sides diminished, was another row of stakes, manned by a defensive line of infantry in a wide half circle. Here was the second line, encircling Ymoth where the stone wall would have continued if the Udalyn had had a few more years to complete it. The fallback line, for disasters such as this. If the Banneryd had no place to fall back to, they were surely finished.
Already there were dussieh-riders pouring off the slope and along the little valley side, pelting at a pace that no warhorse rider would have dared along sloping ground. Archers fired, and several fell, or had horses shot from beneath them, plunging head-over-saddle into the turf, but the others wove past undeterred. Ragged, running infantry were rushing to the fallback line from left and right flanks, some staggering and wounded, sliding through the gaps between stakes…and Sasha's eyes widened as she realised that those gaps, although tight enough to deter a warhorse, were barely enough to