David Gemmell – Rigante 4 – Stormrider

It was just another fight, he told himself, taking up his musket.

The first thin rays of the new dawn were shining above the eastern mountains, and the air was cold and clean, as Mulgrave watched the advancing enemy leave the sanctuary of the trees. Hidden behind a wagon the white-haired swordsman took a deep breath and scanned the line of red-coated musketeers. They were moving forward slowly, in open formation, their muskets fitted with the newly designed bayonets. Mulgrave kept his face calm. He knew the men would be watching him. More and more of the enemy moved into sight. The formation – each man more than ten feet from his nearest companion – would lessen the effects of the volley fire.

Did they know then that the Eldacre men were ready?

With practised eye Mulgrave swiftly counted the advancing line. Nearly five hundred men were now in sight, and moving out over the open land. To the extreme right came a group of Lancers. When Mulgrave first saw them his heart skipped a beat. If Gaise was wrong and the full force of the enemy were to strike here the Eldacre men would be overrun in moments. His tension was eased when he realized there were only thirty riders.

Everything depended now on the discipline of the men of both sides.

The first volley would need to be timed to perfection. Too soon and the distance would leach power from the shots and cause the enemy to charge, too late and the distance between the advancing line and the defenders would be less than the distance back to the trees. This would inspire the musketeers to continue their attack.

Mulgrave stared hard at the enemy. Did they know what they were walking into?

He focused on a group at the centre of the wide line. They were advancing warily, but he saw several of them swing their heads to talk to comrades. This calmed him. An advance against a position that was known to be defended tended to make men feel isolated. There was little conversation.

As the first of the units reached a hundred paces from the woods – a third of the distance to the defensive wall – Mulgrave shouted an order. ‘Make ready!’ he called. All along the wall men reared up. Muskets and rifles bristled over the stone. Mulgrave held his breath. If one idiot were to fire early it would cause a reaction. Others would follow suit and the full effect of the volley would be heavily diluted.

No-one fired.

The advancing line faltered. The men immediately behind the front carried on walking, compressing the open formation.

‘Fire!’ bellowed Mulgrave. Lead shot tore into the infantry, hurling men from their feet. Grey smoke billowed over the defensive wall like sudden mist, and the stink of black powder filled the air.

‘Second units prepare!’ shouted Mulgrave.

The fifty men issued with second muskets brought them to bear, while the other men swiftly and smoothly reloaded their weapons.

‘Fire!’

Another volley ripped into the centre of the approaching infantry.

Some of the enemy began pulling back, but others stood their ground. One of their officers tried to assemble the men to return fire. He was barking out orders, and they were obeying. ‘Jaekel!’ yelled Mulgrave. Taybard Jaekel glanced over. Mulgrave pointed towards the officer. The young, sandy-haired rifleman nodded, licked his thumb and applied it to the sight of his Emburley.

Mulgrave swung to his right. Lanfer Gosten and the men in the long ditch were waiting for his command. ‘Gosten, hold fire until we see what the Lancers plan.’

‘Yes sir.’

A single shot came from Taybard JaekePs rifle. Mulgrave saw the officer crumple and fall, his sabre spinning from his hand.

‘Prepare to volley!’ shouted Mulgrave.

Once more the muskets came into sight. A ragged volley came from the attackers. Most of the shots struck the wall, or screamed by the defenders. But several men were hit.

‘Fire!’

Instinctively the Eldacre men concentrated their weapons on the group struggling to reload their muskets. They were scythed down. Beyond them the musketeers began to withdraw in good order towards the woods. On the right, however, the thirty Lancers heeled their mounts and charged.

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