The Templar Tower: Peter Sparke Book Five by Chapman Scott

Author:Chapman, Scott [Chapman, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Publish Nation
Published: 2015-04-03T16:00:00+00:00

Flank

The battle was decided in a single charge. Falco´s men emerged unseen from the fold in the land and formed up into a line on the trot with the practiced ease of professionals at work. Their charge was only three hundred yards in distance, and well before they reached the flank of the men from the river town, the battle was over. Except for the killing.

Foot soldiers from the ranks of their startled enemy began to break away as soon as the mercenaries appeared. Some tried to turn and face the new threat, but as soon as this happened, their opponents from the valley town surged forward in a mob. By the time Falco reached them, the field was a mass of fighting, running men. He led his charge through the broken line of troops, knocking all of the enemy´s mounted men to the ground and then turned and began to race along the road towards the river, picking off the fleeing militia as they sought the refuge of their own walls.

Salvatore and his sergeant, Henk, watched the mercenary knights as their lances dipped and raised, each movement signifying a man speared through the back.

The unhorsed men from the river town, at least those still alive, tried to struggle to their feet in their heavy armor, but were knocked flat by the charging men from the valley. Their helmets were wrenched from their heads and their prized weapons and spurs stripped from them as they were punched and kicked by the victors. The common militia were stripped of armor and all possessions, and beaten, herded with kicks into a huddle where they stood, heads craning towards their home town.

Falco´s men reached the gate of the river town. It was too far for Salvatore to see, but he knew exactly what was happening. The few men left behind in the town were being given a chance; open the gate and surrender, or force the mercenaries to fight their way in. It was no choice. The gate would be opened and the soldiers admitted. Mercy might be given, but it could not be demanded.

Salvatore could clearly see the banner of Falco turn and head back towards the battlefield, away from the town as his men rushed in through the open gate.

"Wait for me here," Salvatore said to his men.

He walked towards his pack horse, took his white Templar habit from a saddlebag and pulled it over his head. Then he mounted up and rode down the road towards the debris of the battle.

He trotted his horse to intercept Falco as he rode back from the riverside, avoiding coming too close to any excitable archers amongst the victorious valley militia. Despite the glowing white of his tunic he was a man on a horse and liable to be a target.

Falco rode alone, except for a single squire who carried his banner. He gave no sign of noticing Salvatore until they were twenty paces apart.

"If the Templars have any business here, they need to talk to our glorious client," said Falco, barely glancing at Salvatore.

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