[b]Chapter 23: Men & Monsters[/b]

"Quiet..."

Riders and horses both lay in cover behind the crest of the wide hills in silence. Only occasionally did some of the soldiers mutter to their beasts to keep them calm amidst the terrible waiting. The hills erupted a short distance away from the interspersed copses that stretched along the frozen lake. Next to the lake and between the trees a dirt road slithered through, once used principally by farmers to transport their goods to and from larger settlements. Arthur huffed out a cold breath and removed his helmet. He crawled up to the edge of the slope to glance across to the other side, towards the lake, the road and the trees. The silence had been unnerving, considering that the knight had a hundred men and horses next to him - but that silence had been broken when the sound of approaching horses and foreign words cut through the icy air. Down by the road he could see a group of men, clad in wicked armors and sitting upon frosted horses. Arthur knew the colours, armors, accents and banners of nearly every country and renowed lord in the Realm. But he had never seen these before.

Arthur had to squint occasionally when the breeze picked up in a biting cold. After a short while he made his way back down the slope to the waiting soldiers.
"Approximately thirty of them down the road, heading west. They seem confident enough, probably aren't expecting any trouble out here other than smallfolk and farmers." Some of the men scoffed and shook their heads, cursing their foe and muttering cowardice behind their breaths.
"And they sure aren't expecting us." Arthur continued and sneered. The gesture was met with scattered chuckles. "We're going to show them just how wrong they are. Now, our foe looks mean - but have no fear, that's just the armor, and if they wear armor then they are mortal men, just like us. So strike true and watch each other's backs. Ready?" The troop nodded silently and Arthur gestured for them to mount up. A vague clinking noise spread through the Northern riders as they adjusted into the saddle and then looked towards their commander. To ride into battle with a high-ranking knight and the most renowed swordsman in the kingdom was a great honour to some, and it well showed on their determined and fearless features.

Arthur urged his partially armored destrier onwards and ascended to the top of the hill. On both his sides the soldiers followed, equally divided into fifty men on either flank. They now stood fully visible on the hill, but so far the enemy patrol had not spotted them. Arthur glanced to his left and right to ensure that everyone were in place. He leered towards the nearest banner briefly and nodded to himself prior to reaching for the grip of his longsword. He raised his free hand above his head briefly before lowering it again. The rank of horsemen steadily advanced forward, down the hills. After a few dozen yards Arthur kicked his heels into the flanks of his warhorse and spurred it into a furious gallop. Around him spears were couched and swords drawn as the mounted force burst into a unified warcry.

The enemy patrol finally turned their heads to gaze upon the approaching soldiers, their expressions hidden behind their deathly masks. Although they were outnumbered, they displayed no lack of courage and brandished their own weaponry, but the northmen's warhorses were already in a full-charge and trained for this - only a handful of the ghastly riders managed to turn their frozen horses around to face their enemy before they were hit by the tide of Men.

Arthur leaned to the left, the dark and icy blade cut through the air merely inches away from him. He heaved himself upright and spurred his horse on towards the next dark rider. This one was too occupied with selecting his prey to notice the knight's blade before it was too late. The rider fell off his monstrous horse, hands clasped around his throat that fountained blood. The skirmish was momentarily swinging in favour of the frozen riders as they cut down the first northmen that engaged them in combat, but gradually the Men gained the advantage, the dark riders were simply unable to parry so many blades and spears from too many directions.

The layer of snow on the ground turned increasing red as horses and men were butchered alike in the brutal clash. Arthur tugged in the reins and turned his horse around anew, charging at a new enemy that was locked in mounted combat against a northman armed with a sword and heater shield. The malicious rider turned its head towards the charging knight and with a flurry of maneuvers cut down his opponent that fell down from his saddle with a painful scream. The crooked rider then turned its own icy horse towards Arthur and spurred towards him, who in the last minute steered aside and in the process parried away a would-be lethal strike. The two opponents circled around before lunging at one another again. Briefly they were locked in even combat, each strike was parried away in a screech of metal against metal by the other. Finally Arthur got the better of his opponent, and followed up two parries with a swift riposte before his enemy could figure out where to strike next. The steel sunk in deep between the joints of the rider's armor. Arthur twisted the sword around to cause utmost damage before pulling it out in a spray of blood. The ghostly looking rider fell down with a hard thud, unmoving.

Arthur took a breath and glanced up. The skirmish was practially over, with only a meagre handful of enemies still resisting, they were ultimately cut down. The soldiers dismounted and walked amongst the fallen enemies, ensuring that they remained dead by plunging their weapons into them a few additional times. The invaders had brought down a fair number with them, at least fifteen to twenty, Arthur thought. He lowered his gaze to his last kill and dismounted himself, dropping down to a knee at its side.

"Well then. You bleed and die just like any other. What are you, exactly..." Arthur muttered to himself as he reached out for the dead rider's helmet and promptly tore it off.

The knight scoffed derisively.