The Sem enveloped the front ranks of the Mongauli like a swarm of insects and hurled themselves upon their foes. Some of the wildlings leaped high in the air, pouncing onto the knights’ war horses, dodging the Mongauli blades and smashing down their stone axes upon their foes’ heavy helms. Others attacked from below, hewing at the horses’ legs with their axe blades or blowing poisoned darts up into their enemies’ eyes. It now appeared that the Sem’s counterattack had been prepared much more quickly than the Mongauli expected. Instead of the expected rout, a sea of violent confusion, surging in every direction, had developed in front of the oasis. Now the warriors of the Raku, Rasa, and Tubai had joined the battle as well.
“Aiiieeeya! Ayeeya!”
“Mongaul! Mongaul!”
“Hieee!”
The Sem may have looked like tiny black ants attacking massive, armored locusts, but as they rushed into the fray they showed no sign they had been badly surprised. They fought as a single, wild horde; there had been no time for them to paint their faces before the battle began, so their tribal allegiances were nearly indistinguishable in the darkness. Like countless waves they hurtled from the oasis to meet the longswords of the advancing knights, screaming out madly whether they sank their weapons home or tumbled down, stricken, upon the sand.
“Irrim Corps—forward! Irrim Corps—forward!”
“Cut off the Sem’s retreat!”
“The enemy force is unexpectedly small!”
One after another the orders flew, and the main body of the Mongauli force took the shape of a wedge and began to drive deeper into the oasis while Irrim’s corps moved out from its position as rear guard. Irrim formed his troops into a broad crescent-shaped line and began to circle around the wildling camp to intercept any retreating Sem. The Mongauli knew they no longer had the strength to pursue their enemy further into the desert interior of Nospherus, so an escape now by the Sem would cost the invaders dearly. Irrim understood the importance of his mission and he urged his men to hurry past the battle that had sprung up before them.
“Cut through the oasis! Form up in the passes beyond!” the captain of the black bellowed. “Crossbowmen, forward—footmen, deploy! Close off every pathway through those rocks!” Irrim pointed out a stony crag for his men to use as a landmark—the very crag where, unbeknownst to them, Istavan was hiding.
Meanwhile Astrias, at the forefront of the fighting, was frowning in puzzlement even as he swung his sword to right and left.
“Pollak!”
“Hiaaa!”
A Karoi warrior appeared suddenly through the predawn gloom, leaping onto the head of the young captain’s horse. Astrias pulled back sharply on the reins and cleaved the wildling with his sword, then spurred his mount into a jump to avoid the flailing stone axe of the dying Sem. Without losing his composure, the captain of the red called again for his faithful lieutenant. Pollak had kept his horse close beside Astrias' as the two cut their way through the attacking mob.
“What is it, captain?” Pollak was using his sword like a spear, skewering one Sem after another as they hurled themselves against him. Sticky blood gushed from his foes as he impaled them, and his face had turned red under his helmet from a sudden splash of gore. He spat out some curses and sat back on his horse as he wiped his face clean with the edge of his mantle.
“Don’t you think it’s strange the monstrosity isn’t here?”
“Do you mean the leopard-headed man?” Pollak had shared his young captain’s dislike for Guin from the beginning. The thought brought something else to his attention, and he looked right and left before speaking. “Yes, and have you noticed, sir? I think the Sem’s main force is still in the oasis. Probably he is with them there.”
“And he’s not the only one—I don’t see Count Marus' betrayer or the twins of Parros either. They must be keeping back among the inner ranks of the barbarians. If they were out here they’d certainly stand out.”
“They must be in the oasis.” Pollak noticed with a surge of worry that Astrias had focused single-mindedly on finding these particular foes and had left himself vulnerable to the fighting close at hand. He spurred his horse closer to call out a warning. “Captain, your back!”
“Oh!” Astrias spun in his saddle and furiously cut down a Sem who had snuck up from behind to target him with a poisoned dart. Yet even as blood spouted around his blade his attention drifted once more. “The oasis…”
The night was giving way to dawn. The sky had gone from purple to indigo, and now a lightening blue, with a line of pale brightness at the horizon. Now the Sem were clearly visible, with their bared yellow teeth and bristling black and brown hair splashed with blood. Astrias gazed out at the maelstrom of battle. The scene was truly chaotic—like a swarm of locusts struggling with a nest of ants—human soldiers mobbed by Sem warriors, Mongauli knights riding their horses over the savages as they cut them down. The Sem fought incoherently, without leadership or tactics, and the result was confusion for both sides.
“Pollak!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Let’s head for the center of the oasis.”
“Yes, sir!” Pollak raised his head and whipped his horse forward, signaling the advance.
Quickly the red knights showed the skills developed by their hard daily training, overcoming the nearby Sem and gathering their horses around their captain.
“We will charge the oasis! Our targets are the leopard-man and Eru of Argon!” Even as he spoke Astrias saw Irrim’s troops beginning to move past, through the outskirts of the battle, and let out a triumphant yell. Then he turned to look behind him and saw white mantles among the helms of the red knights and the dark hair and sun-tanned skin of the leaping Sem; it had to be Vlon and Lindrot, at the fore of Amnelis' command, come up to support his own corps and the remnant of Leegan’s. Victory is inevitable. Our Mongauli army cannot fail to defeat these poorly equipped savages. Unless there is some unforeseen counterattack, or they have made some cunning plan, we are going to carry the day with a simple frontal assault. Astrias grinned with satisfaction under his visor.
“Hear me, knights of Mongaul! Let us make this day the last day of the Sem!”
“Aye!”