Free Rise of the Dead Prince by Brian A. Hurd Page A

They would need to catch them.
    Meier sat in the middle of this large rabble like a giant target. He and the other generals were the only men on horseback. The archers would be firing soon. No sooner considered than executed, the arrows lo osed.
    But the Valahians were ready. Every arm cast a previously hidden shield skyward. Thousands of arrows rained down like hail, punching through the wooden shields and sticking there, saving the men who held them. The moment of truth came. Everything must be perfect. Meier shouted the order to the capt ains.
    “Charge!” he yelled, and the flag bearers spread the word. But no one moved! Not one man cha rged.
    “Charge!” he yelled again. The men began to scream in fear. The enemy soldiers saw this and quickened their pace. More importantly, the Gunar generals saw it. A rabble who will not follow or ders?
    “Run them all down! Let none escape!” yelled their captains. The Gunar infantry began to sprint, breaking their own line. The fastest men were in front, while the others lagged behind. The Valahian infantry started to rout! Every man for himself, they ran like rabbits from a hound. It was total chaos. Meier cried out and then turned to stay amidst them in the middle, all the while shouting his orders. No one listened to these. It was obvious to all that it was going to be a complete loss, devastating and decisive. At least it was obvious to one-half of the f ield.
    What happened next took place very qui ckly.
    When the Gunar infantry was less than one hundred yards away, sprinting due east in pursuit of the routing Valahians, it was clear. They were so spread out that they had become just like the Valahian rabble. It was time.
    “Split!” yelled M eier.
    The forces listened this time.
    One-third of his men turned and ran northwest, while another third ran southwest. The rest turned and quickly formed into a perfect line facing west. The noose had been slipped. The Gunars fell right into the trap, clamped in the very same claw formation they had used. Ian and skirmishers opened up with the other archers, firing eight thousand arrows in unison into the back ranks of the charging Gu nars.
    Meanwhile at the front, the Gunars were too spread out to fix their line before the clash. They crashed against the Valahian wall like a wave on the rocks. The Gunar archers were now too far out of range to retaliate. They scrambled to run forward, but they were of no more use.
    Meanwhile, the two cavalries were evenly matched. Many men fell on each side. The Gunars were winning because of their numbers. If something wasn’t done, the whole cavalry, with Prince Assur among them, would be lost. But this had been planned as well.
    Ian rode to the rescue. His forces split down the middle and rode in the torrent formation and began attacking the Gunars with expert shots at close range. It made all the difference. The skirmishers had turned the tide.
    Meanwhile, the Valahian infantry closed in like a vice, attacking the numerically superior Gunars from three sides. The Gunars, seasoned though they were, found themselves in complete disarray. Meier pressed his men to hold their lines, all the while ordering the archers to fire without mercy into the middle where the trapped Gunars fought desperately. It had suddenly become the most one-sided battle in Valahian history. Soon the Gunar forces were decimated. Their generals sounded the retreat, but they need not have. Their men had already begun to retreat through any hole they could find. Even their untouched archers fled without firing another shot.
    The Valahians had just won a heroic and decisive victory, using a strategy that would soon be known as “Meier’s ga mbit.”

8 The Greatest Threat
    T he three princes of Valahia rode home with their heads held high. The victorious army marched through the streets of Targov, surrounded by cheers and thrown flowers on all sides. The reception was long and loud. The musicians played, and the singers sang