A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1839 - 1839: The Quietest Battlefield - Part 4

He was plunging into those archers before any could truly fathom what had happened. The aggressiveness of the monstrous General Blackthorn. A reckless courage, and gift of arms that few could match – and then the soldiers willing to go through hell in order to see it happen.

The infantrymen of Tavar scrambled frantically, but the more the arrowhead was fed through them, the more they were wedged apart, and the more that gap naturally widened.

It was only archers that Blackthorn had to go through now – a great wall of flesh, so easily cast aside by those that were vicious enough to serve under him. A repayment for the hundreds of losses that they had taken in the form of arrows, he inflicted hundreds and then thousands more, on his warpath, straight towards General Tavar.

Tavar had to admire the raw aggressiveness of Blackthorn's efforts, though with an easy flick of his reins, he repositioned himself towards the other side of his armi's formation, well out of reach of the General's glaive. Not that to do so was to solve all his problems entirely. For in aiming for the star that was Tavar, General Blackthorn had still managed to butcher the entire right half of Tavar's formation.

So Tavar gave the sort of order that came so easily to him. He was a man that so easily made concessions, after knowing what sort of attack he could counter, and what he could not.

He dissolved the two infantry squares, and relieved them of the strictness of their formation. Like water, they flowed outwards, as soon as that instruction was given. No longer did the arrow have quite so much of a sway. Instead, Tavar's men swam around that attack, and they began an envelopment that unfolded like the most natural thing in the world.

Blackthorn had destroyed a square of two thousand five hundred archers for his efforts, but that was where his charge did come to an end, and finally, was he forced to turn around, and deal with the men that were seeking now to attack him from his flanks.

Before Hod could make his move, Tavar sent his left flank of infantry marching forward. Just a single square of them, stepping at a brisk march, without hurrying, narrowly skirting the mound of corpses that would have hindered their footing, and closing in on the side of the army that Oliver had been left with.

It was a careful move that exposed the weaknesses of the Ernest army position. They were, after all, still the defenders. Though this battle had finally devolved into a flat field battle, as Blackthorn had wished it to be from the start, the Ernest army still had their backs placed squarely against the wall. They were not allowed to let a single unit of enemy soldiers pass them. To do so would have disastrous consequences. Not only in seeing gates opened, and allowing Tavar to gather the rest of his men more quickly from where they had been scattered around the fortress, but also in the possibility of locating and freeing the Ernest men that had been kept prisoner.

They were in a race against time, with Tavar having access to so many more reinforcements than they. Hence Hod's approval of Blackthorn's quick action. The quicker they moved, the more likely they were to see something achieved, before they were completely quenched of their fire by enemy reinforcements.

Hod gave his order for the ears of Yoreholder and Nila. To see General Blackthorn freed from a distance, with the help of their arrows. He wouldn't allow General Blackthorn to remain long tangled inside General Tavar's spider web. His presence on the battlefield was far too important a thing – especially now that he'd secured a position as deep into enemy territory as he had. If he regained mobility to go along with it, he might really be able to put the sword to Tavar's neck, as he was so determined to do.

Impatiently, Oliver waited for his own orders, but none were forthcoming. Hod kept himself positioned on the western wall, so Oliver merely had to look ahead to see the man, and even though their eyes met, Hod gave no signal with his hands for what it was that Oliver was meant to do. Which seemed an order in and of itself – do nothing. As he was, ready and waiting, he was almost as good of a threat.

But doing nothing wasn't exactly an option when nearly three thousand infantrymen were marching towards him, their spears lowered, and their discipline immaculate. He couldn't count on Nila to pepper them with arrow fire, given that she'd already been ordered to move elsewhere.

"My Lord," Verdant said, reminding Oliver that he could move whenever was necessary.

Oliver nodded. "Take the command of a Colonel for now, Verdant. I give you our left wing to see defended as you please."

Verdant saluted, and moved off without him. Oliver did not have to look over. He knew that Verdant would not struggle, even if it was his first time commanding so many men. He could be well enough trusted at least to keep the enemy occupied.

In doing so, he left Oliver with all the other soldiers and Commanders that he was so familiar with. He had not appreciated them quite so highly until he had been forced to fight alongside others, but he found himself a far more content man knowing that he had the likes of Lasha Blackthorn, Firyr, Jorah, Karesh and Kaya, and even the likes of Judas that he could rely on. People so familiar that he could guess their capabilities to even the smallest degrees – and better, he could trust in them enough to hope that they would be able to go beyond what it was that they were normally capable of.

Tavar circled his horses, bringing his five thousand cavalry along with him. They were the constant threat, that superior mobility. He wormed his way, temporarily, to Blackthorn, to exert his pressure, and to see his remaining archers safely escorted to the other side of the battlefield, out of Blackthorn's way.