stop a dussieh.
Dussieh riders attacked the gaps between those sharpened points fearlessly, tearing into the thin defensive lines, cutting men down, then charging past the first houses of upslope Ymoth to hit the opposite defences from behind. Infantry abandoned the second line perimeter to intercept, creating space for other approaching riders to dismount and begin hacking through the stakes. And now, from the opposing side, riders of Captain Akryd's assault were pouring down the slope. Stakes came down in several places and warhorses and dussieh charged through, their riders swinging at any footsoldier foolish enough to try and stop them.
Sasha splashed along the streamside at a trot, watching the rout unfold and searching for her own way through, when Errollyn partially blocked her way. “No Sashandra,” he said, holding a hand out. “You've done enough. You'll only present some beaten Banneryd crossbowman with a grand target with which to redeem his honour. Your men know what to do, let them do it.”
Banneryd infantry still trying to reach the cover of town buildings were cut down as they ran, bodies tumbling bloodily down the stream-side slope. Further back along the flanks, the sounds of fighting continued, although drowned by the thunder of hooves and the triumphant yells of riders. Yet more riders poured through the ever-widening gaps in the defenses, an endless stream of mounted soldiery racing into Ymoth. Errollyn was right, Sasha realised. She was the commander. Now she had to know what the casualties were upon Captain Akryd's flank. The battle for Ymoth may have been won, but there was a long way to go yet.
She urged Peg up the opposing slope, staying wide of the oncoming rush of horsemen heading the other way. Soon enough Captain Akryd himself came toward her at a canter, several of his personal guard at his flanks.
“Well,” he said cheerfully as he reined up beside her, “that's the first one down!” Sasha suffered a surge of relief to know that she was not the only one thinking ahead. Akryd was gasping for air, and his horse frothed foam from the mouth with each snorting breath, but he seemed healthy. One of his men clutched at a gashed leg, his companion now manoeuvring alongside to try and stop the bleeding. “Did you ever see such a poor defensive spacing?” Akryd continued, eyes alive with the light of recent battle. “Stupid northern fools, if they'd spaced their damn stakes they might have had a chance! We must have rushed them to a frenzy, getting here so soon!”
“What do you think you lost?” Sasha asked grimly above the ongoing thunder of hooves. Over by the stakes on this flank, past the onrush of horses, she could see little groups of infantry surrendering. Northerners rarely surrendered, or so the stories had it. In truth, it had been a long time since a large enough battle had tested that theory. A battle against someone other than the Cherrovan, who rarely took prisoners, making the whole question irrelevant.
Akryd exhaled hard, his expression darkening immediately. “Oh…damn it, hundreds. There was a second line, they fell on us once the dussieh broke through, a lot of them fell…” Sasha's heart sank in dismay. So there had been a second line upon the southern flank, just not on the northern one—they'd had cavalry instead, as she'd suspected, waiting on the blindside of their approach. Those first brave dussieh-riders to penetrate the line must have been wiped out. “We got through eventually, but…at least three hundred, M'Lady. Spirits know how many smaller wounds.”
Three hundred on one flank. At least that many on her own, either dead or unable to fight further. Many horses. Dear spirits, it was a lot. A wonderful victory, the analytical side of her mind knew. But…it seemed like a lot. It seemed like far, far too many.
“M'Lady?” said Akryd. Possibly he was unsettled by the look on her face. She straightened herself with an effort, and tried to think rationally. “What do you instruct?”
“Get into the town. Absolutely no pillage, I forbid it.”
“Aye, M'Lady, I doubt it'll be a problem, but I'll see to it.”
“I want to know what's become of the inhabitants. I want senior officers rounded up alive. Then I want a complete reassembly as soon as possible, I want horses cared for as a matter of urgency, I know they're exhausted but we simply don't know when the next fight will come. We must be ready.”
“Aye, M'Lady,” Akryd agreed, finding no argument with that.
“And someone find