Through the Cunar footmen they rode, doing immense damage. These men were all knights, a requirement for joining the order, but the helplessness of their position soon overwhelmed them. They broke, rushing for the safety of the woods.
The Orc riders, now with their blood up, turned west, heading directly for the mass of troops threatening the centre.
Athgar staggered to his feet, pulling off his helmet to wipe blood from his eyes. Looking up, he noticed a horseman bearing down on him, and he threw himself to the ground just as the hooves thundered past. The horse slowed, and the rider turning in place, his sword already bloodied. Athgar stared, stunned to see Sir Raynald, but the duke's man didn't recognize him beneath the mud and blood.
"Stand down," he roared.
Sir Raynald halted his advance. "Athgar? Is that you? What are you doing here?"
"These are my people," he replied, "and I will fight to the end to save them."
"They are death worshippers," insisted the knight, "and must be destroyed."
"No!" Athgar shouted. "They are people, just like you. You've been lied to, Raynald, as has everyone else. These are not worshippers of death! They never have been. Put down your weapons, and let us end this."
Sir Raynald raised his sword. "I'm afraid I can't do that, my friend. I have given my oath to the duke. To surrender now would be to face dishonour."
"Then I'm afraid I shall have to kill you."
Sir Raynald saluted Athgar with his sword. "So be it. Let us fight to the death." He lowered his visor and kicked back on his spurs, charging forward with his sword extended.
Athgar called forth a blast of fire that smashed into the knight's horse. The beast reared up, its hair on fire. Sir Raynald leaped from the saddle at the last moment, avoiding damage as his mount fell, crashing to the ground. The horse cried out in pain, but the knight ignored it, racing towards his prey on foot, still gripping his sword.
Athgar picked up a discarded shield and advanced, ready to fight to his last breath. Around them, the fighting had devolved into individual clashes almost as if the Gods themselves had selected pairs of enemies to settle their scores.
Sir Raynald attacked first, a powerful strike that smashed against Athgar's shield with a dull thud. Athgar countered with a blow of his flaming axe, taking the knight on his plate-covered arm, but it merely glanced off and sent sparks flying.
Raynald countered, stabbing out with the tip of his sword. The Therengian jumped back, but still, the blade bit, drawing blood, yet thankfully doing little real damage. The knight pressed his attack, stamping forward and slashing at his opponent's legs.
Athgar continued backing up, overwhelmed by the onslaught. Sir Raynald was a knight, with a lifetime of training to back up his assault. What did Athgar have? Momentarily distracted by his doubts, he tripped over a body and fell to the ground.
Sir Raynald loomed over him. Athgar thrust out his hand, frantically sending out a streak of fire that missed his target but caused the knight to back up, giving the Fire Mage time to recover.
"Give up," called out Sir Raynald. "You know you won't defeat me."
"I can't," replied Athgar. "To do so would sacrifice my people. Would you do any less for yours?"
Raynald paused, looking at the battle raging around them. Without their leader, the fight had gone out of the duke's men. First, it was only a few, those nearest to their fallen lord, but as word spread, so, too, did their panic. Men began running away, clearing the way for the Therengians to advance.
Athgar stood, waiting for Raynald's attack. The knight stared back, indecision on his face, for it was now clear that the army was disintegrating. He was struggling to come to grips with this when an arrow flew out of nowhere, taking him in the arm, then Athgar was there knocking his sword aside. Raynald tried to draw his dagger, but a kick from his adversary sent him onto his back.
Athgar stood over him, his axe raised for the killing blow.
"I surrender," called out Sir Raynald. "I ask for quarter."
"Why should I let you live?" demanded Athgar. "You have come to destroy us."
Sir Raynald released his dagger. "Do as you must," he said, "but know if you let me live, I shall never again take up arms against your people."
"What of your oath to your duke?"
"Look around you," said the knight. "You have destroyed his army. Only the Church stands in your way of total victory."
Counterattack
Autumn 1104 SR
The duke's forces had begun their rout, fleeing the scene of carnage. Had they known how weak their foe was, they could have easily smashed them, but with the death of their leader, the fight went out of them. They raced north in a panic, their enemy at their heels.
Father General Hargild was waiting, ready to release the superior power of the Temple Knights, but with his overconfidence, he had brought them up close to the lines of battle. Now, with the army retreating, men were streaming past the horsemen, clogging the field, and making a charge impossible. He looked west with the idea of flanking the masses before him, but a large number of Orcs emerged from the trees, driving even more of the duke's men before them.
East looked promising, but then another horde of greenskins rushed forth, stopping to loose arrows as they ran. The armour of the Temple Knights was the best on the Continent, but the enemy targeted their horses, the arrows digging deep into flesh.
Then his eyes caught a glimpse of the great beasts heading his way. Father General Hargild was a brave man, but the sight of these unnatural brutes charging towards him turned him pale. They closed at an impossible speed, crashing into his men with a booming crescendo.
The Temple Knights of Saint Cunar were the
