The brisk morning had started with new recruits, each barely knowing the other, training in the dusty square  yard inside the walls of New Hearth. They were the replacements for the too-soon forgotten soldiers that had fallen during a terrible battle months ago in the Purged Forest. It was end of summer then, and the leaves were on fire. Delger had helped Mazi push through the Purge, past the Isnumurti Sword and deeper than anyone had gone. 

There was the moment between the two of them, Mazi and Delger, when deep in the Purge they found themselves standing together on a cliff. Below the cliff was a pathway, Mazi had pointed out. A pathway to a jungle encampment where they would have the best chance of defeating the Isnumurti, but only if he went alone. 

Delger knew that Mazi could take care of himself. He was the greatest warrior he had ever seen. Still, Mazi needed to convince him that he had to go alone. He told Delger that he had to turn around and warn the people of what was coming. Delger agreed because he had never lacked faith in Mazi. He never thought that would be the last time he saw Mazi alive, else he wouldn’t have let Mazi go alone.

And now, eight months later, Delger watched as those replacement soldiers were scattered across the bloodied field. Many laid lifeless on the field. Arrows, javelins, and chaos rained down from the hands of the invaders, dressed in black armor painted like death. The horses were falling faster than the men, as if the Isnumurti were mocking the proud cavalry. The remaining soldiers ran both toward and away from the battle. Orders, often in conflict with another, were being shouted by the scrambling soldiers. With Gerhart dead, there was none among themselves  ready to command them. 

Delger kicked the Red Mare into swift action, galloping across the multiple bouts of melee as he shouted at the men. “Regroup! Back! Back! Back!”

The remaining riders were uncertain on whom to listen to. They stood their ground, confused. 

“Gerhart is gone,” Delger said. “Our best chance is to regroup. Follow my horse!”

The remaining riders steered the startled horses toward Delger's voice and followed the Red Mare back to the infantry line.  Forty heavy cavalry had took the charge against the Isnumurti with Gerhart that morning but less than half returned. 

“Are we even hurting them?” someone asked. 

"The castellan has fallen!" one of the riders cried. “I saw what they did to him.”

"Yes, but you haven't fallen with him!" Delger cried back.  "While still we breathe, still we stand. Is there an officer among you?"

"Aye," one of the riders raised his hand.  "I am Mathaus, Lieutenant.”

"The infantry is yours, as is the archers, Lieutenant," Delger commanded.  "Riders, of what remains, you are with me. We do not have enough for a wedge formation. Instead we will have two charge lines, one riding ahead of the other.  We will use the momentum of the first line to weaken their defenses for the second line.  You must ride straight through!  You must not stop!  When you ride through them you will circle back to me.  Mathaus, you will release the arrows immediately after the second line has passed through.  Give not the bastards a single chance to catch their breath.”

The remaining cavalry tried to form the two charging lines but the horses bumped into each other. Some started shouting blame at the rider beside them, shoving each other away.

Delger took a soldier’s shield and smacked the flat side of his sword against it over and over until he got the riders’ attention. “You go there. And you, at the end n the line here. There’s ten of you. Form the first line with me, like so. The first charge is with me. The rest, form a line ten feet behind us. You, with the red sash, get the second line in order.”

The lines began to form. Delger turned the Red Mare toward the battle and gave the signal.  "Keep loose and free, and maintain space between each other.  Only come together at the last moment! Mathaus, remember your orders!”

Delger moved the Red Mare to the center of the first line. He gave the order to move, and horses moved from a gallop to a charge, their hooves kicking up mud. The smell of trampled earth, the sound of the thunder along the ground, the bite of the cold air in his open mouth—Delger felt the beat of war within his stomach. They were fast approaching the defensive line of the enemy. 

The Isnumurti saw the charging formations of the two lines and multiple drums sounded. The Isnumurti split their own groups into two at the sound of the drums.  They spread the two units by a hundred feet and gathered large shields and formed two armored phalanxes with one set of spears pointing forward and the next set of spears pointing upward, ready to replace the first set of spears. 

"Ride straight through he center!" Delger shouted. “Do not engage! Do not split the line!”

The other horsemen did not heed his order and split the line anyway, five of them splitting off to challenge the phalanx to the right. When the riders with Delger noticed the move, they began to veer left to attack the other phalanx. 

“Damn it,” Delger muttered as he pulled the Red Mare left. 

The cavalry clashed with the phalanxes. Spears stuck to horses, causing some to stumble on top of the Isnumurti shields. Swords clashed against black shields. 

Delger rode through, avoiding a spear and knocking back a shielded soldier.  He hacked at the arm of one of the Isnumurti, and swung at another, narrowly missing. The phalanx started to expose some seams in their defense, but their formation stayed true. 

“Keep riding through, do not stop!” he warned. Delger rode past the phalanx and made a wide circle back to the center of the field. As he rode he saw the second line drive their lances into the exposed formation, but he also saw several riders fall to the second set of spears.  Mathaus released arrows as instructed, but the phalanxes regrouped their shields in time.  

Delger stopped at the center of the field. When the second line joined him, many did not return. The drums stopped. 

Archers loosed more arrows but they bounced off the shields. Delger rode to the line of archers. 

“Move back the line of archers, Lieutenant,” Delger told Mathaus. “Head back up to rear of the field. And the infantry as well.”

Mathaus commanded the archers to run back to the New Hearth line first, with the infantry close behind. They gathered far from the middle of the battlefield, where many of their men and horses stained the ground in red. Gerhart’s body was lifeless yet seated and propped against his dead horse in the middle of the field by the Isnumurti line. 

“What is the plan, Captain?” Mathaus asked. 

"These military formations are foreign to me," Delger said as he counted the remaining cavalry. There were only fourteen left. “Their phalanxes adapt quickly to our attacks.”

“Do we make another charge?”

Delger shook his head. “Another wave will not penetrate their defenses.”

“Then how do we break them?” Mathaus asked. 

"We don't," Delger said.  "Retreat is our course. Make way for a return to the city.  Engaging them was a folly they hoped that we would make."

"Retreat!" cried Mathaus. “The fight is not over. We have suffered losses! The fallen must have sacrificed for something! You intend to yield New Hearth?"

"This is not an intended assault serving any great purpose against New Hearth," Delger said.  "This was a small band of Isnumurti sent to test the chain of our military mettle. Instead of acting from military strategy, we were moved by foolish pride. Our attack was sabotaged from the beginning.”

“Our pride is not a weakness!” Mathaus cried. “Just as your cowardice is not a strength! We have numbers still. We have an infantry. Castellan Garhart would have pressed.”

“Dolt, our cavalry is obviously unable to penetrate their phalanxes,” Delger snapped. “We should not have engaged them so close to the forest, where their phalanx formations have the advantage of level ground. I warned Gerhart as much. With their numbers they will not pursue us to the hilly terrain of New Hearth. There we will have advantage, and they do not have enough to seige the castle.”

"We will rue this retreat til the end of our days," Mathaus said, shaking his head. “I will not ask our men to retreat.”

Delger stared at him. "I am the ranking officer now.  Question not my judgment else find I will strip you bare of your title as I would of your undeserved armor.  Then I would geld you as quickly as one of my horses.  The order to retreat is not for you to ask. Do it now and we will return for our dead later."

Mathaus gave the order, and the confused troops turned and began marching back to the city.  As they marched, Delger looked back at the battle where the dead lay.  The Isnumurti shouted orders and the soldiers reformed into a single unit and gathered weapons and armor from the dead.

"They are looting from our fallen brothers!" one of the soldiers cried.  

"Keep to your march," Delger ordered.  They continued to retreat in quiet.  

The Isnumurti reformed and began retreating back into the forest.  "As you have said, Captain," Mathaus said.  "They do not pursue.  What I fear is the size of the hammer they will soon bring against our anvil.  We have no advantage in the field, and the walls of New Hearth are not built to withstand a prolonged seige.  Without support from the king or the other territories we shall surely be lost.  Our castellan has fallen. We have no lord. There is no reason to stay in New Hearth. Why should we stay and fight?"

"There are always reasons to fight,” Delger said. “For yourself, for your family, for those who have fallen. Find your reason.”

Delger thought of his son as he looked out at the empty battlefield.