Page 101 of The Robber Knight
Ayla's soldiers followed her orderimmediately this time, dunking their arrows into the barrels oflard, their eyes wide with disbelief as they stared at the enemyvessels: by now, the mercenaries were frantically trying to put outthe fires spawned by the flaming missiles; many of them had losttheir shields already and most had stopped paddling. Some boatswere turning around and around in circles, because only thesoldiers on one side were still dipping their oars into the water.The enemy attack was falling apart.
“Nock! Mark! Draw!”
Again, twenty strong arms pulled backbowstrings. The man with the makeshift torch didn't need promptingthis time. He hurried along the line of archers, leaving fire inhis wake. Twenty flaming projectiles pointed skywards.
“Loose!”
The second volley of arrows struck the enemyundefended by their wooden shields, most of which were floatingdownriver by now. Screams of anger and surprise turned into screamsof agony as, this time, flaming blades cut not into wood, but intoflesh. The mercenaries' thin clothing and oiled armor ignited likedry tinder, and screams of agony morphed into bestial roars as menturned into living torches.
Ayla would have liked to look away—but shecould not. It was her duty to look, and to command, and tocontinue.
Shehadtolook at the burning men, if only to know what it was she haddone.
So she watched, as again the flaming arrowsburied themselves in the sides of the enemy boats—boats which bynow were burning bright red. The mercenaries that were still alivetried desperately to extinguish the flames, screaming at each otherto get water out of the river, or to rip the arrows out, or simplyscreaming in pain as they, too, caught fire. Chaos was spreadingwith the flames, and man after man fell into the water, crying outwordless prayers and curses. Most of the men didn't resurface.
“Dip! Nock! Mark! Loose!”
Ayla's lips moved almost without her beingaware of it, pronouncing the death of her enemies. It had onlytaken a couple of minutes to completely reverse the situation,though it seemed much longer than that. Where a few minutes ago themercenaries had been sure of victory, now they were being crushed.Most of the boats had been overturned or were rotating aimlessly inthe river, most of their oarsmen were gone. There was burning chaosamong the enemy. Clearly, none of them were thinking of attackanymore, not even of retreat. No, they thought only of flight,desperate to get away.
Away fromher, Ayla suddenly realized. They were afraid ofher. The knowledge was chilling,but also sent a grim surge of satisfaction through her veins.
Her eyesstraying to her own soldiers, Ayla saw the awe and fear in theireyes. She understood, because she was feeling exactly the same.Everybody knew that lard[48]burned, and that wood couldbeburned. But to see these simpleelements wreak such untold havoc was deeply disturbing. Ayla knewthat if she hadn't been there, the soldiers would have stoppedshooting, or at least stopped igniting the terrible fire on theirarrows, now that most of the enemy shields were floating in thewater. But she kept them repeating the hailstorm of fire, again andagain.
You are killing peoplewho are fleeing, said a voice in the back of hermind.
I am killing people whowant to kill my people, she thought, determinedly.Each mercenary that falls today can't strike ablow at us tomorrow.
This was no time to get skittish. She was aleader and had to act like one.
Soon, no more boats were floating on thewater. The only things that were floating were burning pieces ofdebris, and men—face down.
Ayla lifted her eyes from what she hadwrought to meet the gaze of the red robber knight on the other sideof the river. He didn't curse, yell, shout—in fact he didn't doanything but raise his hand again. This time, Ayla knew, it was nowarning, but a respectful salute.
She nodded.
The robber knight whirled his stallion aroundand galloped back to the camp, leaving his dead behind to rot.
After a moment to gather herself, Ayla walkeddown to her soldiers. Smoke was drifting over the battlefield fromthe river, but Ayla forced her eyes not to water. She couldn'tafford to cry. Not here, not now. Not in front of the men she hadcommanded.
The captain met her, the others behind him.They all looked like they had woken up from a dream. Not a nicedream.
“Milady.” The captain nodded and gestured tothe destruction on the river. “I gather Sir Isenbard hasawoken?”
Ayla raised her chin and met his gaze headon. “No, Captain, he has not.”
Linhart's eyes widened. “Then you...”
“What did you think, Captain?” she asked,raising an eyebrow. “That the feverish merchant in the castle'sguest chamber came up with the battle plan that saved all our livestoday?”
The captain fell to his knees, and all hismen followed suit. “Forgive me for ever doubting you, Milady. Yourwisdom in battle surpasses all that I have seen before.”
Well, shewanted to say,my wisdom in battle is aboutcomparable to that of an oyster, and as for doubting me—great jobyou were doing! You were spot on! Go right on doubtingme.
Instead, she just nodded gracefully.
“All you men have done me proud this day,”she called, gesturing towards the river. “You have stood betweenyour families and the enemy, and you have not faltered but won astunning victory. If we continue to be as vigilant, I have no doubtwe will prevail, no matter the odds.”
She took a deep breath.
