The last Battle of Prince Arthur

The plain was plunged into a deep, expectant silence.

Two hundred yards from the enemy cavalry, Arthur's steed whinnied impatiently and pawed at the mud. The captain's steed was very still by comparison, he was an older horse and veteran of dozens of battles. He knew what was expected of him. The soldiers raised their shields and readied their spears.

"Protect the prince!"

"May the gods be with us." said a soldier to Arthur's left, the prince saw him kiss a pendant with the star of the Seven.

The sight of the star encouraged Arthur, who looked up at the sky and offered a quick prayer to the Warrior.

`Bless our spears and protect these brave servants of yours`

"Oak and iron, guard me well, or else I'm dead, and doomed to hell." He hears a soldier muttering in front of him. That old prayer is as old as chivalry itself. Others repeat the same prayer and Arthur joins.

Arthur puts on his helmet and readies his weapons. To his right he sees Captain Luca and to his right a soldier whose name he does not remember, but the narrowness of the slot limited his vision to what was right in front of him.

He hears the rumble of the earth and the sound of a dozen arrows taking flight.

"Shoot!" The archers fire another volley of arrows, the enemies scream, and there is the sound of armor crashing to the ground. When the enemy cavalry is a few dozen meters away the captain orders their own horsemen to advance to meet them.

The two groups collide with loud bangs, screams and wails sound as the soldiers slaughter each other.

The prince's party stands still, away from the battle. Arthur was as still as a fly in amber. He felt a twinge of uneasiness go through him, and for a moment he regretted having gone against his wife's orders. He shakes his head a little and shakes his doubts away.

"This is no time for regrets." he mutters under his breath.

He raises his spear to the sky and orders his guard to join the battle, the captain protest, he is unwilling to put the prince's life in danger.

"Luca, look ahead, half of our soldiers are fighting bravely for us. What kind of prince watches his men die for him and does nothing?" The men were moved by his words and cheered. Luca knows there is no changing his prince's mind, Arthur is as stubborn as a mule.

"Yes, my prince. Men march forward!"

Arthur gave his horse a gentle tap of the spurs and lowered his spear. At the same time he raised the shield until it covered almost the entire left half of his body and gave it the angle necessary to deflect the blows.

"Oak and iron, guard me well, or else I'm dead, and doomed to hell."

The screams of the soldiers are distant despite the proximity. The horse went from a trot to a gallop, picking up such speed that Arthur clenched his jaw unconsciously. He put his full weight in the stirrups, tensing his legs and letting his body participate in the horse's movement.

`The horse and I are one: we are the same animal` Inside the helmet the air became so hot that it was difficult for him to breathe. In the decade since he's engaged in actual combat his instincts have dulled a bit.

`I should have spent more time in the training camps with Arron and Trystanne.`

Arthur saw the captain's horse gallop a few meters in front of him, his horse was bigger and faster than his. Luca ran a Stromlander through with his spear and decapitated another with his sword.

He quickly turns his attention to the front as he sees an enemy horse approaching. He tightens his grip on his spear and holds the shield tight. Seeing that the enemy has a sword and not a spear he quickly repositions his body and thrusts his spear forward.

The enemy raises his shield, Arthur's spear collides with it and slides to the side hitting him in the armor. The enemy was not prepared for the blow and fell from the horse.

He hears a battle cry and sees another stromlander gallop towards him but before he can get close a Dornishman collides with him and they both fall to the ground.

Arthur can't watch that matchup unfold because he has to move to avoid the enemy arrows, he raises his shield and two arrows collide and stick into it.

`Oak and iron, guard me well, or else I'm dead, and doomed to hell.`

He saw a stromlander gallop towards him with a spear in hand, he absently notes that the spear is Dornish, he must have taken it from one of his dead soldiers.

The hooves of his steed are splashing mud as they gallop to meet the enemy. Arthur watched as the enemy horse's nostrils flared for a moment. The enemy knight does not have his spear positioned. Arthur reminds that the knight who holds the spear high and takes aim at the last moment is always in danger of lowering it too low. He points his spear at the center of the enemy's breastplate.

"My spear is part of my arm", he said to himself "I just have to touch the right place and the enemy will be send flying away"

The enemy lowers his spear, by luck or perhaps uncanny skill the spear is directed towards the prince's head. Arthur has to reposition himself to avoid the blow. He watched as his spear collided with the enemy's shield instead of his breastplate.

The dull crack was accompanied by the sensation of his horse recoiling, trembling from the force of the impact. Right after that he feels a tremendous shock on one side. The horses collided with great violence and made a metallic noise.

His horse stumbled and Arthur lost his spear. He backed away from the enemy holding on to the chair desperately not to fall.

"Damn beasts, I hate horses." He gritted his teeth as he felt the horse's hind legs give way. After several slips the steed landed hard on its hindquarters.

"Up!" Arthur roared, digging in his spurs. "Come on, up!"

The horse regained its balance and rose, but then Arthur felt a sharp pain under his ribs and a weight on his left arm. With his spear, the enemy had pierced through oak, wool, and steel.

Two cubits of splintered wood and hard iron hung from Arthur's side. He reached out with his right hand, grasped the spear just below the point, gritted his teeth, and jerked it out in one brutal jerk. A stream of blood seeped through his mail and stained his surcoat.

The world blurred and Arthur nearly fell off his horse. Vaguely, through the pain, he heard his name from several mouths. His shield was useless now. He threw it to the ground. Drawing his sword he felt extreme pain but gritted his teeth and made his horse circle to see what was happening around him.

The enemy who charged him lies dead a couple of meters away, still holding the Dornish spear in his hand. Near his corpse a Dornish soldier is fighting a stormlander.

Other soldiers from both sides fight around him, on one side he sees Captain Luca fighting alone against two enemies. And he is winning. He vaguely remembers when he hired the captain, Obella was just a baby back then.

Arthur was on a mission in Essos and was attacked by some Dothraki, they were just a Khalasar scouting party, just a few dozen. His guards got rid of many of them, but to his surprise one of the slaves of the eastern barbarians killed eight Dothraki with a dead soldier's sword. He did it with his hands still in chains. After the battle Arthur invited him to join his group and the rest is history.

An enemy runs towards him and Arthur raises his sword and spurs the horse.

A warrior mounted on horseback always has an advantage over one on foot, despite being wounded Arthur kills his enemy. But not without consequences, the pain of his injuries increases even more.

Another enemy horseman gallops towards him and this time there was no chance of avoiding the fall. Arthur lost his sword and saw the ground approaching. The impact shook him to the bone, causing him pain so excruciating that he cried out in pain. For a moment he could do nothing but lie there, the taste of blood in his mouth.

`Come on! Get up,` he knew that if he didn't get up again he was dead. He couldn't breathe, let alone see. The slit in his helmet had gotten muddy, and he managed to get up blindly and brush the mud off with his gauntlet. `This is better`

He saw an enemy running towards him with an ax through the grating, Arthur was barely able to move to avoid the blow. The enemy stumbles in the mud and falls to the ground, the prince kicks him in the head as hard as he can. He draws his dagger and plunges it into the gap between his armor and his neck.

Sitting on the ground above the corpse he breathes heavily, his dagger still stuck in the dead enemy's neck.

He suddenly hears someone call out his name, turns his head and sees a horse gallop towards him.

`I hate horses,` Is the last thing on his mind before the crash.

His whole body ached and the last thing he sees is the dark gray sky above him.

Arthur Uller closes his eyes and loses consciousness.

NOTE:

What do you think about the battle? Is the first medieval battle scene that I write