The Crusader's Crown (Tales of the Brotherhood Series Book 1) by James Mercer (ink ebook reader txt) 📗

  Ridley and Athaelstan’s helmets also differed from the others. While the other five wore the conical helmet with its nose guard and chainmail ventail at the back of the neck, their helmets bore the Saxon mask, which covered half of their face.

  Checking they were in position, Robert then gave the order.

   “Advance.”

  Their horses started at a trot and began to build to a light canter. As they got closer it became clear the enemy was prepared to face them head on as they too started to increase their pace. The nearer they got, Robert could see that their opponents’ horses were smaller than their own. Another reason why their first impact had to work decisively for their own mounts like Jupiter would tire more quickly than their enemy’s.

   “Arrows!” shouted Cherik in warning.

   “Shields up, keep formation!” bellowed Robert.

  Gripping their spears they raised their shields higher as five arrows buried themselves into the wood and steel defences, while a sixth clattered off Robert’s helmet. Seeing them starting to re-notch their bows, Robert urged to the others to reach them before they could release a second volley.

  Bar the rider carrying their banner, none of the enemy were carrying spears, only their swords. With only two hundred paces to go, he roared the order to charge.

   “Hold formation!” he yelled over the clamour.

  The disciplined arrow-head configuration sped into the enemy line at full speed and the two opponents smashed into one another with enough force to shatter a castle gate.

  Although varied, all seven men’s actions had caused chaos amongst the enemy.

  Robert, Guy, Athaelstan and Jurgen’s strikes had found their targets. All four spears had snapped on impact and remained in their foes, impaling them on the razor sharp spear tips, and now lay dead on the ground or slumped in the saddle.

  Cherik had not been so lucky and his spear had skimmed off his opponent’s shield. However he had been able to unhorse the enemy to his left by punching out with his own shield, dislodging the man from his saddle.

  Meanwhile Jimmy and Ridley, although not finding their targets’ bodies, had knocked their opponents to the ground with the force of their strikes, leaving the trampling of the horses’ hooves to do the rest.

  Their numbers were now almost equal. Robert and his men immediately turned their mounts to face the surviving enemy horsemen. Drawing his sword, Robert quickly struck one of the men who was trying to restrain his frantic horse. The animal was shrieking like a demon and Robert took full advantage of the situation. As he cut down he could feel the blade tear through the warrior’s chain mail and lightweight gambeson.

  The man screamed in agony, matching his unfortunate horse, forcing him to drop his guard as Robert encouraged Jupiter forward and drove his sword straight through the side of the Almohad’s neck.

  Hardly taking a moment to watch his dead adversary topple to the ground, Robert turned to look for another target when a huge force smashed against his shield sending him crashing to the ground. The banner man had used the pole holding the banner as an effective lance.

  Winded and his head spinning, Robert slowly pushed himself up on to his knees, hearing the clash of steel above and the stamping of hooves all around. As his eyes began to focus, he could see the torn banner of the Almohad patrol and the splintered pole where it had hung.

  He desperately tried to regain his senses, scanning the dusty clouded ground for his sword but it was nowhere to be seen. One thing however was quite clear – the banner man had turned his horse and was drawing his sword.

  Robert moved just in time and flung himself flat as the Moor swiped down to try and sever his head. Turning again, the enemy combatant began urging his mount forward again. Robert knew this was it, there was nowhere to go and he was defenceless.

  He clutched the medallion hanging from his neck. “God, have mercy on my …” he started to pray.

  A massive shadow then flashed across the kneeling warrior as a charger, towering above that of Robert’s adversary, barred its way. Powerful teeth snapped viciously causing the smaller horse to falter. Jupiter reared up and lashed out with his hooves at both rider and mount keeping them at a safe distance.

  Although exhausted, Jupiter would not retreat or back down, giving his master vital time to get back on his feet. Robert pulled his double handed broadsword from the saddle.

  Yanking the colossal blade free of its scabbard he darted past Jupiter and swung the blade upwards, cutting deep into the Saracen’s midriff. Confident that the man was finally immobilised and posed no threat, Robert turned to Jupiter. Grabbing the reigns he pulled and then heaved against the strength of the crazed beast, doing his best to settle him.

  For a brief moment he thought he was going to have to release Jupiter to fend off another attacker. The man had also been unhorsed and ran for Robert, yelling his war cry. However he was cut short when Ridley rode by and brought his sword down on the man’s helmet, crushing metal and skull.

  The man tumbled to the floor instantly which was followed by a cheer from above. A cheer of victory. Looking up, Robert could see that four of his men were still mounted but where were the other two?

  Pulling his helmet free, he looked for them. Then he saw them and ran over to their aid. Athaelstan was already tending to Guy, who lay unconscious, a bloody gash on the side of his head.

   “Is he alive?”

   “Aye he’s alive. He’ll be alright, the helmet saved