Steeds of Hell

Both Wounds-Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Both Wounds

The rain puddled the floors of the field, while the Alard men stood ready for their second battle in the northern lands. Isaac stood high on a horse next to Bryce, while the black mud jumped up at Bryce's white stallion's legs. The knight of Hyll led the vanguard, and Isaac with his brother lead the Knights. They stared their enemy from a distance; the fourteen thousand men stared back at the vanguard of knights.

"Charge!" the king shouted, and the army took up the cry. The fearless king and his men charged, the north men did also. The mud splashed while the feet of the men beat it, the rain took up the night's dark sky, and lightning cracked through the thick black clouds, interrupting the shouts of men. It was certain to Bryce that some of his men will soak in the mud as goners come the end of the battle, his horse hissed and neighed while Bryce entered the charging enemy lines, he smacked the blades that swung at him with the steel of his long sword, cutting and stabbing the men as revenge. He dug the blade into many skulls while rain and blood splashed on his valiant and bold face. The sound of steel clashing, armor clanking, men screaming and horses neighing echoed as lighting struck the field around them. Bryce swept through the battlefield like strong wind, knocking who ever got in his way to the mud, wounding or killing them. As he thrust and swung his blade through the air, the thick blood poured and dripped from it. The white stallion he rode screamed when the foes blades struck the armor that protected its front and legs. The king jumped off of his mount to save it and let it ride free; surely he didn't want to end up like his brother Isaac. His feet smashed into the mud and his un-strapped helmet fell free of his head, he gazed at the blood he was now standing in. then slowly brought his head up to the battle that crashed around him, while the rain watered down the blood on his face and dripped. A north man charged at him, he stood and watched just before they met. He thrust his blade into the north man's breastplate, while his grace grunted on impact. He pulled it free of the man's chest, and found his next opponent. The man waved his sword around, then he swung for Bryce's head, Bryce ducked and took the man's leg off with a swing of his own. The man fell to the mud screaming, while Isaac left him to bleed in the wet mud. He stepped on his face when he walked to find his next victim. Another north man challenged King Bryce's mighty strength; his grace decided the soldier's fate by hacking his white neck before he could swing the clean sword he held. The young head fell to the ground while the body still stood, Bryce hurried its fall by bashing its chest with a kick. At the corner of his eyes he saw another foe solider charging him. Bryce slowly faced him, with a sinful look covering his bloody face, the north man growled and screamed as he beat the muddy ground with his feet, when he met Bryce, he attempted to slam his sword into the king's head, but instead he slammed his sword into the steel of the king's blade. The king pushed the man back with a front kick, and then swung his sword, and the tip of the blade sliced through the north mans throat. He fell while the blood poured from his body and his head hanging to his back from the little bit of skin that kept it attached.

The king spent his time viciously sweeping through the fields like it was a dance. With his great long sword he killed and wounded, showing the north men what a great swordsman he was. The whole time he thought about his dead loved ones. Lisa Alard, who was put to the sword at the age of sixteen, the beauty and caring princess who was his sister. Macy Alard, the wild but smart sister, put to the sword at eleven years of age. Prince William Alard, the warrior, once his grace's role model and older brother, put to death in combat while protecting the family, he was slewn at the age of twenty one. King Lewis Alard, his father, killed protecting his sons and daughters.

Bryce's mind left the battlefield while he fought, it was easy for him to slay the enemy once he thought of those darling faces. After an hour the rain still showered him while he stabbed a north man in the gut, pulled the sword and swung it into the next foes armor. The battle still fought viciously when he watched one of his men shot down by an arrow; grief and sorrow took him, only making him bolder, more brutal and ruthless to his enemy.