Free The Shasht War by Christopher Rowley Page A

pikebearers pulled and stabbed, and men fell. Bodies began to pile up in the ditch. But in time the men broke in close to the pikebearers, and their spears took a toll. Mots and brilbies tumbled back in the death throes. The pike line broke up.
    Mots with spear and shield stood forward to form a fresh line.
    The men pulled back to reorganize and then came on again with a renewed roar of drums, horns, and war chants. Once again the lines locked and the struggle continued. Back and forth it swayed over the low rampart, and down into the ditch. The men made minor breakthroughs, but these were always seen in time and the gaps filled from the reserve regiments. Every so often the fighting died down as the men pulled back to take a breath or two and reorganize their line.
    Thru received a call to the Meld's command post. He found the general in a state of anxious excitement, standing over the map and rubbing his hands together. His staff busily received reports from the frontline commanders and passed on vital information. The mouse seemed much more confident now.
    "General," said Thru.
    "Ah, Gillo. Well, what do you think? Not bad, eh, for raw recruits."
    "Done well, sir."
    "But they keep coming."
    "They can no more afford heavy casualties than we can, so they have to stop eventually."
    "Was it like this at Dronned?"
    "Very much so. They attacked us there, tried to break us. But we held them."
    The Meld signaled for more tea. Thru was glad of a cup before he returned to his own post. There was little news from Chillespi. Ter-Saab was with his regiment. They waited, each separated in his own universe of concerns and hope for the day.
    But now the Shashti general formed his men up into two huge battalions, shortening the line and then storming forward to smash into the two weakest areas of the Meld's line, places marked by collapses in the dug rampart and partial filling of the ditch. The men poured across, and slammed into the defense lines once again.
    The mot line began to give.
    A message came from the Meld ordering Thru to bring his regiments around the right end of the fortified line and to attack the flank of the nearest enemy column.
    Thru had been waiting impatiently for exactly this moment. His own orders were ready and waiting to go. Immediately there came a bellowing of commands in the ranks, and soon the lines had turned to the right and were in motion.
    "Hurry!" was the only word on Thru's lips as they moved off. Every moment was precious, and every mot knew it.
    Within less than a minute the force was pulling around the flank and coming into view. The assault column had penetrated, but not completely broken through. There was fighting going on all along the ditch and rampart, and over it in the center.
    The command for the charge was given, and the southern regiments flowed forward, hurling themselves across the flat ground beside the ditch. The Second and Fourth regiments were in the lead, with the Fifth and Sixth in support.
    The Shashti spearmen on the left flank turned to face the new threat while other men fell in behind them with javelins and bows. Thru whistled to himself at the smooth way this maneuver was performed.
    Then the gap closed and the leading regiments drove in and the fighting sent up a fresh roar of noise.
    Thru was standing at the corner of the rampart and ditch. The ditch ended here, though the rampart had been continued around for another forty paces. He had a view right up the line of the battle. The Meld's entire army was now committed to that front.
    Thru felt a momentary premonition. He commanded the last reserves. After his regiments engaged, they would have nothing to spare. He chewed his lip for a second, and then he sprang down and ran to catch up with Ter-Saab at the rear of the Sixth Regiment.
    "Turn it around," said Thru. "Move the regiment back behind the right flank."
    Ter-Saab's eyebrows rose. "What about the attack?"
    Thru was watching the attack as it drove home into the enemy's