Jannisaries by Jerry Pournelle

The first line of Romans dismounted to attack the pikes with swords. They were braver than their horses, and several got in among the pikemen, al­though most were thrust down by the heavy points.

The few who managed to close slaughtered several of the front rank, but the rear files thrust forward to strike them down. The pikemen shouted triumph, and the cheer ran down the ranks.

It was all happening at once, and far too fast for anything Rick could do to influence the battle. The battle on Rick’s left wing was nearly over before the Roman horse could reach the much larger block of archers and pikemen close under the villa.

As the leading wave of Roman cavalry approached the broad face of the Second Pike Regiment, the horses shied away from the steady wall of points, edging to their left so that they clumped in front of the archers. The wagons and downed trees and other obstacles concentrated the enemy ever tighter as each horseman tried to go down one of the cleared lanes.

The grey gulls flew down the cleared lanes to strike down horses and riders alike. The charge came on, deeper into the pocket. The line of archers here was much thinner than that between First and Second Pikes; it had to be because there was three times the front to cover. The arrows flew less thick­ly, and the comparative safety of that front, com­pared to the solid wall of pikepoints, drew more and more of the steel-armored Romans like a magnet.

Those stopped by ditches and trees dismounted and continued forward shouting war cries.

“Now!” Tylara shouted. “Use your star weapons! Now!”

“Not yet.” Rick watched the situation develop. The Romans on foot were dangerous. Their armor partly protected them from arrows. But they were also much slower, and the archers had more oppor­tunities to shoot. The Roman wave came forward ponderously, past the wagons, around the abatis of felled trees, around and over the ditches, onward toward the archers who now had no protection but their stakes. The archers fell back involuntarily, back again—

To be stopped by backing against the heavy cavalry and Drumold’s banner. They held for a mo­ment, resolutely firing another volley of arrows point-blank at the Romans among the stakes that had been their final defense line.

“Now,” Rick said. He shouted to a mounted mes­senger below. “Now!” He ran for the stairs, shouting for his orderlies and his messengers. It was time to get into the battle.

Tylara watched the opening charge of the terrible Romans without fear. She had confidence in Rick, if not in her clansmen. When she saw the Roman wave break against archers and pikemen alike, she was certain they had won.

But the Romans pressed on. When they dis­mounted to charge headlong toward the archers and her father’s banner behind the archery line, Tylara took fear again. Did Rick not understand that if that banner fell, half the clansmen would try to save themselves any way they could? Why did not Rick kill them with his thunder weapons?

He seemed to have forgotten that he was armed. He was far more concerned with shouting orders to messengers. Now he ran for the stairs. Tylara fol­lowed, wondering.

The din of battle filled her ears. She heard ‘Rick shout again, but she could not understand him. Just below, not thirty yards from the steps of the villa, there was desperate fighting, with the Romans marching forward into the hail of arrows. The arch­ers retreated, still in an orderly line, but here and there a man broke and ran— The Romans had to be stopped. Her light-cavalry escort stood near the villa. It would not be much use against armored men, even armored men on foot. But her brother’s heavier-armed men might be thrown in now—Rick was running there, and his orderly was holding a horse for him. Was Rick going to lead them himself against the Romans?

That was Rick’s affair. The light cavalry was hers. She shouted to them to dismount and led them forward to stiffen the retreating line of archers. The archers let them through gladly, and she rushed forward swinging her battle-axe. She knew she was not skilled with it, but the only way to be certain the others would attack was to lead them herself.

A Roman thrust at her with his lance. She parried with the axe, stepped inside his reach, brought the axe around to cleave at him. It struck his helmet but did not cut through, and while the man was staggered by the blow, an archer ran forward and struck the Roman again with the mallet used to place stakes. The armored man fell.

Other Romans advanced. Many of the archers had no more arrows, and although a few drew swords and stood resolutely, others melted back. They would all run soon— The Roman line halted. There were screams and shouts, and the Romans faced about, bewildered— The Third Pike Regiment had faced left and charged the Romans. They formed an irresistible battering ram of steel points, and they pressed on­ward, catching the Romans from the side and from behind.

There were more shouts. The rear ranks of Second Pikes had also joined the battle, wheeling to form a block thirty men square and bearing down on the Romans, mounted and dismounted alike.

Now the Romans thought of nothing but retreat. Those still on horseback tried to get back out through the narrow lanes between the ditches, while those afoot tried desperately both to catch their horses and avoid the pikes coming from either side. Another volley of arrows fired point-blank struck among the Romans caught in the pocket.

They were still dangerous. A Roman charged at Tylara and she swung her axe furiously, missing

him but causing him to flinch away. Then the pike-men came on again, and the Roman threw down his sword and fell at her knees.

Tylara turned from the battle to look for Rick, just in time to see him lead the heavy cavalry off to the right.

Rick shouted orders as he ran. “Third Pikes to face left and charge.” He saw that messenger off and called to another. “Second battalion of Second Pikes form square, face right, and charge.” Now I hope to God all that drilling we did during the summer has an effect. We’ve got them! By God, we’ve got them.

There was one weak point. When Third Pikes moved into the battle, they’d leave a gap between them and the lake, while what used to be their front would become their fully exposed right flank. A charge there or through the gap would be disas­trous.

It wasn’t likely. The Romans hadn’t kept back a reserve. Poor tactics. It was always worthwhile keeping a reserve. Without reserves you couldn’t exploit the enemy’s mistakes, and victory generally went to the side that made the fewest errors— He found his horse and threw himself into the

saddle, waving to the heavy cavalrymen to follow. He cursed when he saw Drumold and his son lead­ing. He didn’t want that banner exposed. But then he saw why. The others hadn’t moved, now reluc­tantly followed their chief and banner. Of course. They wanted to get in on the fight, and here Rick was leading them away from it. Drumold had worked a miracle in holding them as it was.

Okay, the banner came too. Now he didn’t dare commit this reserve until he was certain of victory. He wished he could see what was happening out in front of First Pikes. That charge had shattered there, and it would take damned good work to re-form for another—but the Romans had shown they were steady, and he had no right to assume their com­mander was a fool.

They rounded the right—now the rear—of Third Pikes, shouting battle cries to reassure the infantry. He didn’t want them panicked by hearing strange hoofbeats behind them.

Out in front, things were quiet for a moment. The right wing of the Roman army had pulled back and was milling around. There’d be a little more time before they could get into any formation for another charge.

First Pikes were standing at ease, looking curi­ously back toward the main battle. Baiquhain raised the clan banner high. A cheer ran up and down the ranks.

The archers linking First and Second had re­turned to their stakes, and a few were out in front of them stripping bodies and making sure what they stripped were bodies. There didn’t seem to be any way to stop that.

Inside the pocket, the slaughter continued. The escape lanes were piled with bodies, and some en­terprising officer of the Second had pushed a knot of pikemen into each one. The pikemen stood behind heaps of dead and faced the villa, preventing any­one from escaping. The Romans inside that cal­dron were pressed so close together that they couldn’t use their weapons. They’d be tiring now, too. That was the trouble with armor. The protec­tion it provided came at a high cost.