How Not to Poach a Unicorn

Thirty-One

The day of the battle came and Ashunar transported Prinin and Taimon to the head of the Haelund Column just as the eclipse passed. The flash of light looked to those on the ground to be related to the emergence of the sun. As the eyes of the soldiers adjusted, they found that their army was now headed by the King of Haelund in his gleaming golden armour, flanked by General Taimon of Orl, both believed to be quite dead.

The plan had been to rally the troops against the oncoming Canerian army and hope that a peace could be brokered with the Desidan horde. However, as Prinin's eyes focused, he found that the horde was already approaching, headed by some familiar faces.

Prinin held the spear of kings high and his small voice boomed with authority as his enchanted armour amplified it across his lines. "For Haelund!" he cried, and charged forward on his mighty steed, followed closely by a very surprised Taimon.

The Haelund troops shouted a cry of surprised support as they couldn't help but be swept up in the moment. Orders to march washed across the ranks and the confused nobles were tripping over themselves as their men moved on the command of a mystery king.

Prinin bolted forward, leaving his army far behind him as he and an increasingly uncomfortable Taimon approached the land bridge and the elk riders charging their way. Prinin didn't slow. He picked his target, lowered his spear and moved straight for the head of the oncoming horde.

Two complete armies stopped dead in their tracks as their leaders met head-on. Their mounts reared to a stop as the two riders threw their arms around each other and they kissed as only blood-hungry warriors can.

They broke from their reunion out of necessity. Prinin turned from his beloved Battle Maiden to her brother. The warcries and drums from both sides faded uncertainly as Prinin and Ulrat locked wrists. "What say, you brother?" shouted Ulrat. "This seems a fine day for war." He pointed in the distance at the now visible armies of Caneria.

"I would hate to waste it," returned Prinin, grinning. He wheeled and joined the head of the Desidan horde on its rampage across the bridge. "Make way! Our fathers are calling for vengeance!" he bellowed as he crossed the bridge and wheeled south to face the oncoming Canerians.

The Haelund cavalry joined the elk, wolves and jackals quickly and the troops swarmed after. 

The ordered columns of Haelund infantry struggled to keep up with the battle-crazed swarm of Desidor warriors. The noble generals of the Haelund army were left well behind in a befuddled stupor.

Prinin saw the metallic vanguard of the Canerian army. It would be a perfect enemy to unite their people — faceless, nameless killing machines. They had no remorse and deserved neither mercy nor restraint. He just had to hope that his last trick would work.

Vestin hated that golden prince with every fibre in his being. His entrance had been ruined so completely that he hadn't even been noticed. He was mistaken for a bird and ignored. Him! He was a great dragon with two wizards under his control! He could lay waste to their armies but he would not be denied his moment of glory first. He would lead his own army. With him at the head of the column followed by his deadly machines of war, the enemy would tremble and surrender. They would all perish and he would feast on their remains.

Behind Vestin, Delizah was mortified. Everything was going wrong. They were supposed to be leading the army now and decimating the barbarians. Instead, those armies were being led by a dead man and a slave girl. She was watching the impossible. The messengers had confirmed everything before they marched; the Prince had been beheaded and the Battle Maiden was safe with her father. This was supposed to be her day. This was unfair. This had to be a lie.