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Pachaks, a group of Rapas and another of Fristles not marching together. There were the corps of
cavalry, the zorcamen for recce work and the heavier warriors astride their nikvoves for the crunching
shoulder-to-shoulder charge. I heard the creak of leather and the breathing of the men and animals as we
pressed on. I pondered this little army. The Pachaks carried their shields on their two left arms. Because
the Chuliks from the Chulik Islands southeast of Balintol are trained from near birth to fight with any
weapons and use those of the master who hires them, these Chuliks carried rapiers, daggers, and glaives.
There had just not been any shields in Vallia for their equipment. Trained to be mercenaries on their
islands, the Chuliks were also trained in the same old ways in their own places of the Eye of the World. It
is difficult, perhaps, to remember that if ordinary men and women called apims may live on the face of
Kregen in ignorance that others of their kind live on other continents, the same is true of all the diffs also.
Only a diff, Bleg, Numim, Chulik, or Rapa, would call himself ordinary, and we apims would be the
halflings to him.
At the rear of the column tailed the baggage carts loaded with shafts and bolts for the varters. These
trundled along on carriages drawn by teams of four totrixes, and there were far too miserably few of
them for any well-balanced army. But I must make do with what I had. The varters would spit their
venom when the time came.
When the dawn broke and the whole plain lit up with the fires of Antares, the green of grass and tree
breaking into splendid color, the sky paling through all those marvelous changes of radiance, I halted the
army and we rested for a while. Now was the time for those last-minute preparations: the rapier clean
and easy in the scabbard, the main-gauche to hand, the Jiktar and the Hikdar. The glaive firmly socketed,
the ash stave true and ungreasy. The helmet sitting well on the forehead, so that the brim did not tip up
nor yet dip down over the eyes. The corselet not constricting the free play of the arms. And, in the case
of those with this despised article, the shield fair and ready, resting on its grips. And, finally, the last check
to make sure the high-laced marching boots with their studded soles were tightly secured, ready to afford
that vital security of grip on the earth this earth that was not my Earth but the wonderful world of
Kregen.
Turko the Shield gently rode his zorca over as the men began to rise and stretch and take up their arms
to move out to their appointed places. The light grew stronger mur by mur, and our twinned shadows
stretched long.
You will ride Stormcloud, Dray?
Later, I think. I ll need to be here and there at the beginning, so Snowy will be better.
I ll tell Xarmon. Xarmon was the groom I had brought, a man from Xuntal like Balass the Hawk, a
man who loved zorcas and nikvoves. He even liked totrixes, which proved his love of the steeds of
Kregen.
I would not fly a flutduin, despite the advantages of aerial observation, because of the disadvantages of
being cut off from the giving of immediately obeyed orders and also because I did not wish to deprive the
fighting air cavalry of a single mount. The air smelled crisp and sweet, a tiny breeze started up, which all
the bowmen would feel in their bones.
Some people say that one battle is much like another and I suppose if you are in the ranks and it is all a
red mist of cutting, thrusting, and bashing on or running then there is truth in this. But no two battles
are really alike. There is always some factor that gives each battle its individual flavor. I think this battle,
which became known as the Battle of Tomor Peak, was marked by the first full realization by my
Valkans of the power of the shield in battles of this nature.
Tom ti Vulheim, who had fought with me in the Battle of the Crimson Missals, gave orders similar to the
ones I had given then. But now we had pitifully few shieldmen. The Pachaks must not fail us. They strung
out in the first ranks, grim, hard men, among the most intensely loyal of all the mercenary warriors of
Kregen. They held their shields high in their two left hands, their single right hands gripping thraxters or
spears; their tail hands, flicking evilly this way and that or shooting diabolically between their legs,
grasped bladed steel. The archers formed their battle wedges. The rapier and dagger men lined out,
ready to drive in when the first gaps appeared and, like sensible fellows, they would use their glaives until
the stout ash shafts broke.
Over all, the aerial patrols curved against the sky. Up there the first important maneuvers would be
carried out. I cocked my head up. Then I looked to the wings where the zorca and nikvove cavalry
waited, their lances all aligned, the brave blue pennons flying. We did not wear Vallian buff, but the blue
of Pandahem: blue shirts and tunics hastily sewn up for us by the sempstresses of Vallia. We still wore
buff Valkan breeches and boots, or buff breechclouts held by broad belts with dependent bronze and
leather pteruges, and high-thonged military boots. But I admit I took little comfort that we did not fight in
scarlet and that my own flag, Old Superb, did not fly above us.
The Hamalians lined up, ready for us. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl aikidobyd.xlx.pl
Pachaks, a group of Rapas and another of Fristles not marching together. There were the corps of
cavalry, the zorcamen for recce work and the heavier warriors astride their nikvoves for the crunching
shoulder-to-shoulder charge. I heard the creak of leather and the breathing of the men and animals as we
pressed on. I pondered this little army. The Pachaks carried their shields on their two left arms. Because
the Chuliks from the Chulik Islands southeast of Balintol are trained from near birth to fight with any
weapons and use those of the master who hires them, these Chuliks carried rapiers, daggers, and glaives.
There had just not been any shields in Vallia for their equipment. Trained to be mercenaries on their
islands, the Chuliks were also trained in the same old ways in their own places of the Eye of the World. It
is difficult, perhaps, to remember that if ordinary men and women called apims may live on the face of
Kregen in ignorance that others of their kind live on other continents, the same is true of all the diffs also.
Only a diff, Bleg, Numim, Chulik, or Rapa, would call himself ordinary, and we apims would be the
halflings to him.
At the rear of the column tailed the baggage carts loaded with shafts and bolts for the varters. These
trundled along on carriages drawn by teams of four totrixes, and there were far too miserably few of
them for any well-balanced army. But I must make do with what I had. The varters would spit their
venom when the time came.
When the dawn broke and the whole plain lit up with the fires of Antares, the green of grass and tree
breaking into splendid color, the sky paling through all those marvelous changes of radiance, I halted the
army and we rested for a while. Now was the time for those last-minute preparations: the rapier clean
and easy in the scabbard, the main-gauche to hand, the Jiktar and the Hikdar. The glaive firmly socketed,
the ash stave true and ungreasy. The helmet sitting well on the forehead, so that the brim did not tip up
nor yet dip down over the eyes. The corselet not constricting the free play of the arms. And, in the case
of those with this despised article, the shield fair and ready, resting on its grips. And, finally, the last check
to make sure the high-laced marching boots with their studded soles were tightly secured, ready to afford
that vital security of grip on the earth this earth that was not my Earth but the wonderful world of
Kregen.
Turko the Shield gently rode his zorca over as the men began to rise and stretch and take up their arms
to move out to their appointed places. The light grew stronger mur by mur, and our twinned shadows
stretched long.
You will ride Stormcloud, Dray?
Later, I think. I ll need to be here and there at the beginning, so Snowy will be better.
I ll tell Xarmon. Xarmon was the groom I had brought, a man from Xuntal like Balass the Hawk, a
man who loved zorcas and nikvoves. He even liked totrixes, which proved his love of the steeds of
Kregen.
I would not fly a flutduin, despite the advantages of aerial observation, because of the disadvantages of
being cut off from the giving of immediately obeyed orders and also because I did not wish to deprive the
fighting air cavalry of a single mount. The air smelled crisp and sweet, a tiny breeze started up, which all
the bowmen would feel in their bones.
Some people say that one battle is much like another and I suppose if you are in the ranks and it is all a
red mist of cutting, thrusting, and bashing on or running then there is truth in this. But no two battles
are really alike. There is always some factor that gives each battle its individual flavor. I think this battle,
which became known as the Battle of Tomor Peak, was marked by the first full realization by my
Valkans of the power of the shield in battles of this nature.
Tom ti Vulheim, who had fought with me in the Battle of the Crimson Missals, gave orders similar to the
ones I had given then. But now we had pitifully few shieldmen. The Pachaks must not fail us. They strung
out in the first ranks, grim, hard men, among the most intensely loyal of all the mercenary warriors of
Kregen. They held their shields high in their two left hands, their single right hands gripping thraxters or
spears; their tail hands, flicking evilly this way and that or shooting diabolically between their legs,
grasped bladed steel. The archers formed their battle wedges. The rapier and dagger men lined out,
ready to drive in when the first gaps appeared and, like sensible fellows, they would use their glaives until
the stout ash shafts broke.
Over all, the aerial patrols curved against the sky. Up there the first important maneuvers would be
carried out. I cocked my head up. Then I looked to the wings where the zorca and nikvove cavalry
waited, their lances all aligned, the brave blue pennons flying. We did not wear Vallian buff, but the blue
of Pandahem: blue shirts and tunics hastily sewn up for us by the sempstresses of Vallia. We still wore
buff Valkan breeches and boots, or buff breechclouts held by broad belts with dependent bronze and
leather pteruges, and high-thonged military boots. But I admit I took little comfort that we did not fight in
scarlet and that my own flag, Old Superb, did not fly above us.
The Hamalians lined up, ready for us. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]