Seven: The Standoff
As the first rays of dawn crept over the horizon, the reinforcements crested the nearby hill.
Never before had I been so happy to see the flapping banners of Lord Blackthorne's regiment. My men moved among the dead searching for any soldiers wounded who yet live. I crouched beside Jorgen, placing a hand on the other man's shoulders as his breathing turned labored.
“Hang in there, soldier,” I told him, reaching down to grip his hand.
“I need you to stay conscious until the healers arrive.”
Draxus strode over, his eyes flickering briefly over the injured soldier.
“We’re out in the open Will. If we want to get him to the healers then we’ll have to rejoin the main force. Moving him is risky.”
I ran my tongue along the inside of my mouth, tasting metal.
“I don’t see that we have much of a choice.” I glanced towards the battlefield. Several Knights in heavy plate sat astride tall chargers, and next to them was a man in blue Magus robes. The sight of him made my heart a little later.
“The Magus is here. But why isn’t he attacking? The orks are on the retreat.. it would make more sense to press the advantage while he can.”