Glancing to his right, he saw Cheops and his fifteen hundred lightly armoured archers toiling up the slope. Each man carried thirty shafts. Four thousand five hundred sharp missiles to rain down upon the unprotected defenders!
The Baron ordered the encirclement of the hill and the three thousand remaining infantrymen, holding tightly to their formations, spread out to obey.
There was no movement from the defenders, and no sound. No harsh, boastful challenges, no jeering. It was unusual. The Baron could see the woman, Sigarni, moving among the men. The helm she wore was truly magnificent and would make a fine trophy.
Dark storm-clouds obscured the sun, and a rumble of distant thunder could be heard from the north. ‘The Gods of War are preparing for the feast!’ he shouted. ‘Let us not disappoint them.’
Fell waited behind the cover of the trees, Torgan beside him. They could not yet see the lancers, but they could hear the thundering of their hooves on the hard-packed earth of the hill. Fell glanced to his right, and saw the Highlanders notching arrows to their bows. To his left the swordsmen waited, their two-handed claymores held ready. Five hundred fighting men, ready to defend their homes, their families and their clans.
The first of the lancers breasted the hill: tall men on high horses, their breastplates shining like silver in the sunlight, their long lances glittering. Each man carried a figure-of-eight shield on his left arm. They were still travelling in a column of fours, but as they reached open ground they spread out. The officer drew rein, shading his eyes to study the tree line.
Fifty Highlanders moved out on to open ground and loosed their longbows. Some of the shafts struck home, and several men and half a dozen horses fell, but most were blocked by the shields of the lancers. Levelling their lances, the riders charged.
‘Now?’ whispered Torgan.
‘No,’ Fell told him. ‘Wait until they are closer.’
The fifty exposed Highland bowmen continued to loose shaft after shaft at the oncoming riders. Horses tumbled under the deadly volleys, but the lancers rode on. The distance closed between them, until no more than thirty paces separated the two groups.
‘Now!’ said Fell. Torgan lifted his hunting horn to his lips and blew two short blasts. Another hundred bowmen ran from the trees to stand beside their comrades. Hundreds of shafts tore into the lancers; the charging line faltered as the missiles slashed home into unprotected horseflesh. Horses reared and fell, bringing down following riders. Amid the sudden confusion the Highland swordsmen charged from cover, screaming their battle-cries. The lancers panicked, though many tried to swing to meet this unexpected attack. Horses reared, throwing their riders, then the Highlanders were among the lancers, dragging riders from their saddles and hacking them to death upon the ground.
Among the first to die was the enemy officer, hit by four shafts, one taking him through his right eye. The horsemen at the rear pulled back, galloping towards the safety of open ground. Torgan blew three blasts on his horn, and a chasing group of Highlanders reluctantly halted and jogged back to the tree line.
Over the hill-top marched a thousand Outland infantry, flanked by a score of archers. They drew up and surveyed the scene of carnage, then locked shields and advanced in broad battle formation, one hundred shields wide, ten deep.
‘More than we thought would come,’ said Torgan.
‘They can’t hold that formation within the woods,’ said Fell. ‘Fall back fifty paces.’
Torgan’s hunting horn sounded once more, in one long baleful note.
Highland archers continued to shoot into the advancing mass of men, but to little effect. Some fell, but the infantry held their long rectangular shields high and most of the shafts bounced from them.
The lancers had re-formed now, and galloped forward to try an encircling sweep of the woods. Obrin and two hundred riders counter-charged them from the left, cleaving into their flank, hacking and cutting. The lances of the Outland riders were useless in such close quarters and they frantically threw aside their long weapons, drawing their sabres. But this second attack demoralized them, and they were pushed steadily back.