Morgarten (Book 2 of the Forest Knights) (29 page)

“Hornman!” Leopold called out and a young man ran to
his side.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Call up the rear guard cavalry as well.”

The young soldier put his horn to his lips. The
sound echoed all the way down the mile-long line of Habsburg
forces.

Leopold took a deep breath and looked to where the
rebels were reforming into squares.

“Now that you have sprung your trap, Thomas
Schwyzer, let us see how you manage the rest of us.”

“Form up! Form up!” Noll called out again.

So engrossed were his men with the grisly task of
killing the last few armored knights flailing about in the
marshland, that he had to run around and cuff several of them so
that his orders registered. When they looked at him with eyes wild,
but vacant, their blood-splattered features twisted, Noll hardly
recognized them. He remembered Pirmin talking of how the battle
furies could consume a man during times of war, and lend him
strength. He watched the huge, but usually gentle, form of Hans
Gruber run bellowing into mud up to his knees, grab a staggering
knight by the plume on his helmet, and wrench his head around in a
circle, throwing him back into the sucking muck from which he had
just managed to free himself. He pinned the Austrian on his back
with the butt end of his ax, and stomped on his helmeted head over
and over, driving it deep below the water’s surface. Gruber kept
stomping long after the peacock feathers disappeared. Whether the
man died from the crushing impact of the young man’s blows, or
drowned, Noll had no idea. But, he had long since ceased his
struggles by the time Noll reached them.

“Gruber!”

He kept stomping until Noll shoved him from behind.
The young giant whirled around and Noll jumped back, not liking the
way Gruber leveled his ax in his direction.

“Gruber, what is wrong with you? Form up!”

The big man blinked. Noll had to yell again before
the man looked around sheepishly and, seeing half of his square
already standing in the field, began wading through the mud to join
them. Thomas’s complete square stood there already. Noll saw Max
and Urs, moving around the battlefield, shouting at members of
Noll’s square to form up ranks. Their red tunics made them clearly
visible amongst the earth-covered dead and dying.

A minute later, Noll stood in the front line of his
completed square. He could not remember the last time his lungs had
worked so hard. But he felt strong and eager for whatever came
next. Intermittent shouts and snarls erupted from his men telling
him that they felt the same way.

Noll looked at the enemy for the first time since
re-forming ranks. At least two hundred cavalry trotted toward them.
Another five hundred milled about in a disorganized mass at the
front of the army, trying to get into some semblance of attack
formation. Behind them, tightly packed infantry, and more mounted
knights stretched along the road and disappeared around the
bend.

“God Almighty,” Noll whispered.

“Ruedi, Max,” Thomas shouted. “Take up rover
positions on Noll’s square. Anton, you and I will be ours.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

Ruedi, crossbow in hand ran to stand to the left of
Noll’s square, while Max, his sword drawn went to the right.
Normally, they would have seven to ten rovers per square, fast men
with swords whose task it was to dart in and out of the enemy
ranks, doing as much damage as possible when the two fronts
collided. But, Noll reasoned, since this was a stalling mission,
Thomas must have decided he would rather have the squares
themselves as strong as possible.

Noll watched Thomas walk to stand outside his own
square. He put Pirmin’s ax on the ground and drew his short sword
and mace. Next to him, stood Sutter.

Semi-transparent tendrils of mist wrapped around
Sutter’s ankles, as though rooting him to the damp ground. He
stared defiantly at the approaching Austrians, with his ax held
before him and his face grim. He looked more like some mythical
warrior than a middle-aged innkeeper. The momentary illusion was
shattered, however, by the old, patched, and mended vest that his
wife had made him years ago. The same one that he had worn to serve
Noll many a mug of ale over the years.

“Sutter!” Noll shouted.

“Sutter!”

The innkeeper turned around slowly, looking for the
source of the call. He saw Noll waving and gave him a curt nod and
a half smile, which was worth a full smile from any other man.

“I want to marry your daughter!”

Sutter’s eyes went wide and then narrowed in the
space of a heartbeat. Noll was suddenly glad he was separated from
Mera’s father by a score of armed men. He had not planned his
words, but as soon as he said them he knew it was the perfect time,
even as the men around him laughed.

“I mean when this is all over. And things have
settled down a bit,” Noll said.

Sutter’s jaw clamped shut, and his eyes narrowed
further.

He pointed at Noll. “Stay alive, boy. We will talk
about this again.”

Noll grinned. “That most definitely did not sound
like a ‘no’,” he said.

“Time to get your feet back on the ground, Noll,”
Ruedi said, as the knights attacking broke into a charge. There
were several flag bearers of Austrian noble families riding in the
charge, but one in particular had caught Noll’s eye: the red fist
of Berenger Von Landenberg.

He tightened his grip on his own ax, and pushed all
thoughts of Sutter and Mera from his mind. Out of his peripheral
vision he saw Thomas rotating his mace arm to loosen it up.

“Squares, front face!” Thomas shouted.

The men in the front lines dropped to one knee,
wedged their ax handle against their front foot, and pointed the
spear tip of their weapons toward the enemy. The next line squatted
and also stepped on the hafts of their halberds but remained
standing. The next couple of lines completed the deadly wall by
holding the points of their weapons parallel to the ground and over
their comrades’ heads. The men behind assumed a solid stance and
placed one hand on the man in front of him to lend support, and to
be ready to replace him when needed.

“Squares. Meet charge!”

This was no Sturmritter charge, Noll thought before
the first horses hit them. Their front was not unified, and less
than half of the knights attacking had lances. Most of them swung
long swords that needed room to operate. And since the Schwyzer
forces were so concentrated, the Austrians had to crowd together as
they approached, cutting off a large number of the attackers. This
forced them to slow down and follow behind the main force, waiting
for their prey to run.

“Hold your ground!” Noll shouted as a horse
penetrated three lines into the square before its rider was pulled
from its back and hacked up by axes from the rear lines.

A swordsman slashed out and Noll saw Gruber recoil
in pain, he dropped his ax and pressed his huge hand against his
collar bone. Blood seeped between his fingers. Ruedi’s crossbow
clicked, and the young knight pushing into the square was lifted
out of his saddle with a leather-fletched shaft punched deep into
his breast plate. He fell under the hooves of the other knights
pressing their mounts forward, trying to find an opening in the
wall of axes. As soon as Ruedi fired, he ducked into the protection
of the back lines of the square to reload.

Gruber found his ax. He hefted it up, and using it
with one hand began pulling knights off horses like they were
low-hanging apples. Once on the ground, the cumbersome armor of the
knights was no match for the penetrating ax heads and the men who
wielded them.

Another click from Ruedi’s crossbow; another
riderless horse crowding the front line. On the right, Noll caught
glimpses of his other rover, Max. He seemed to be everywhere, with
sword in hand, moving in and out of the square at will. Men, or
horses, cried out every time Noll lost sight of him.

Noll had no idea how Thomas’s square fared. Every
time he tried to look he was confronted by a new enemy. He could
see nothing but horses and knights’ legs. He swung an overhead
strike at a knight’s thigh. His ax hit just above the knee, and
even though it was covered in chainmail, he felt the end of the
large leg bone crumble under the blow. The knight screamed, and
fell forward, but managed to hold onto his horse’s neck and break
out of the throng around him. He went twenty feet before falling
out of his saddle, and was promptly trampled by a riderless
horse.

Within minutes, most of the horses immediately
surrounding the square lacked riders. But the Austrians were so
numerous, the horses could not escape. Terrorized, and many of them
wounded, by the sharp spear points and the flashing ax heads, they
stumbled around the outside of the square until they could force
their way through the Austrians and gallop back to the main
army.

Noll’s arms were heavy, but he was not winded when
the man behind him tapped his shoulder to initiate a line change.
Noll dropped back, and Gruber stepped forward.

What is he doing behind me? That is not our regular
formation.

As Noll stepped back he had to lift his leg over a
body. One of his men. And another. The square held, but almost half
his men had fallen. That was why Gruber was behind him, he
realized.

He put his hand on Gruber’s shoulder and rested his
ax handle on the ground. He rolled his shoulder as best he could to
relax the muscles. Gruber suddenly jumped. A long lance had been
driven through his middle and stuck four feet out his lower back.
Only Noll’s quick feet stopped him from being skewered as well.

Gruber began to fall backward, but the point of the
shaft stuck against the ground and would not let him fall. The big
man looked around weakly. Noll leapt forward to protect him and
maintain the front line. As he looked up, he found himself staring
right into Landenberg’s face.

The Vogt had a helmet with a metal snout, but his
face mask was raised. Probably so he could breathe better, Noll
thought. He pointed at Noll as he wheeled his mount around in a
circle.

“I got myself a big one, eh Melchthal! And you will
be next!”

Landenberg dug his heels into his horse’s flank and
barged through the other Austrian knights. Noll saw him heading
straight to a lightly armored man with Landenberg’s crest on his
chest. He had three or four long lances, and held one out as the
Vogt approached. Then, Noll had to focus back on the battle at
hand. Someone had unhorsed an Austrian, and he rolled right in
front of Noll like a sacrifice. He let the man push himself up to
his hands and knees before beheading him. Then he stepped on his
back while he used the hook on the back of his ax to help Sepp
Rubin unhorse another.

Next to Sepp, working the front line with a borrowed
ax in hand, was Ruedi. And next to him was Max. The rovers had
taken up positions inside the square. The front line to be exact.
This was not a good sign, Noll thought.

He risked a glance over his shoulder. There were
only two rows of men behind him. Gruber was still standing, but the
way his head and empty hands hung limp, Noll knew he could no
longer count him.

The horses in front of Noll suddenly cleared, and
for the briefest moment he thought the Austrians were retreating.
But then, with his heart stuck in his throat, he realized that they
had only pulled back to ready another charge. He saw Landenberg
among them, lance in hand.

“Squares, form single! Seven men across, no rovers!”
Thomas shouted.

The men pushed and jostled themselves into new
positions. Noll found himself once again on the front line,
touching shoulders with Thomas and Sutter.

“Square, forward full!”

Evidently Thomas too had had enough of defensive
formations. Noll could not blame him. If they were going to die,
they might as well die on the offensive. The men all seemed to
agree, for the entire square raced across the open ground with
renewed strength and war cries so terrible Noll wondered who was
making them.

Landenberg tested the weight of a lance before
handing it back to his squire and then took another one. He glanced
over his shoulder, to see what the loud noise coming from the
Schwyzers was all about, and had just enough time to lower his
visor before the first charging rank was on him. He dropped his
lance and drew his sword. Next to him, he saw his squire dragged
from the saddle and his throat cut.

With no regard for maintaining formation, Noll
pushed himself to reach Landenberg, cutting down everything in his
path. But Sutter beat him to the Vogt. The innkeeper hooked his
chainmail and pulled him half out of the saddle. Landenberg cursed
and swung at Sutter’s head, but he ducked and gave a final tug that
pulled the Vogt down on top of him. The heavy man knocked the
breath out of Sutter and he was slow to stand. As Landenberg
stepped forward to thrust his sword into Sutter’s guts, Noll hit
the Vogt with the shaft of his weapon from behind and knocked him
off to the side.

Landenberg turned and flipped open his visor. He
smiled and his eyes lit up with mad intent, but he was too out of
breath to speak. He swung his sword with both hands in an overhead
strike at Noll’s head. Still holding his halberd shaft before him,
Noll lifted it and blocked the attack on the wood between his
hands. Then he brought the bottom of the heavy pole across
Landenberg’s face. Spitting blood, Landenberg reeled back, but Noll
kept his momentum going and, stepping forward, spun his ax over his
head and sunk it deep into the side of Landenberg’s head. His head
bounced off his shoulder.

Noll shook as he looked down at Landenberg. His
eyes, now as sightless as Noll’s father’s, stared up at the low
clouds as the rain fell. It was hard to say what killed him first:
the broken neck, or the heavy, flanged ax head lodged above his
ear.