Free The Shasht War by Christopher Rowley

our wounded."
    "I have twenty mots without shields," said Colonel Ury of the Fourth Regiment. Thru made a note to ask the Meld's staff if there were any extra shields available.
    "I have a dozen pikebearers with broken pikes. I need new spontoons," said another, Bekk of the Fifth. Thru made another note for the Meld's staff, all of which were swiftly taken away by a runner.
    After a few minutes the meeting broke up and the officers returned to their regiments. The mood was grim, but still hopeful.
    Thru finally found himself with some time to sleep. He lay down in a corner of the command post, wrapped in a blanket, and slept from the moment he laid his head on the ground.
    All too soon he was shaken awake. A young mot in a very new uniform coat was leaning over him.
    "Sir, the Meld wants to see you. The enemy is coming."
    "Right, right," he muttered, struggling to sit up. "What is the hour?"
    "Be dawning soon, sir."
    "Thank you, soldier."
    Thru pulled himself to his feet, pulled fragments of straw off his shirt and trouser and shrugged his coat over his shoulders. Ignoring the aches and pains from the day before he made his way to the general's command post.
    The Meld had obviously slept in his chair, beside the map table. Now he was drinking cup after cup of hot tea while studying the reports coming in from the front.
    "Good morning, sir."
    "Morning, Gillo. The enemy are formed up, and they seem intent on a frontal assault straight up from the road."
    "They are confident. They have good reason to be."
    The Meld allowed himself a small smile. "Well, we'll have to see if we can change that, eh?"
    They waited. More reports came in indicating that the men were marching directly up the slope, pushing through the thickets, trying to keep their formations organized, which would not be easy as the slope increased.
    Now they could hear the war drums and horns, a steady thrub-thrubba-thrub that billowed up ominously from the direction of the road.
    Thru went forward to the front line to see things for himself. He found the Meld's regiments waiting expectantly, somewhat nervous, resting on their shields with their spears to hand. He traversed the line moving from east to west and back and had reached the far eastern end when the first shouts told him the men were in sight. The drumming was louder, the horns suddenly brayed en masse, and the men of Shasht began to offer up their chilling war song.
    Mot archers were visible, retreating, pausing to release an arrow, retreating again up the slope, through the boulders and scrubby trees and onto the open space on the top of the hill. Then they ran ahead.
    Behind came the men, their shields forming a line of red and gold, their helmets glittering in the early sun. Now a command rang out from the Meld. The pikebearers dropped their weapons to the ready, and the mots picked up their shields.
    Showers of arrows slanted through the air between the two armies. Then the men stumbled onto the first of the Meld's surprises, a row of pits dug thigh deep with a sharp stake anchored at the bottom.
    Their lines buckled momentarily, then came to a halt while orders were bawled and men adjusted. A line of skirmishers began to probe the ground in front of the marching regiments. They found the rest of the pits, and the regiments flowed over and around them.
    Arrows glittered in the early light as they flashed high between the two armies. The men were coming at a steady trot, their shields held in front of them like a wall of pale eyes. The young half-trained mots in the Meld's regiments watched with dry mouths as they came on. Drums thundered behind them. At fifty paces the men erupted with their war cry and ran forward to engage. The roar of battle leaped up all along the northern side of the hill.
    As before, the men used their shields and swords to deflect the pike heads and rushed inside to close with the pikebearers. The ditch and the low rampart added to their difficulties, but did not stop them. The