NOVEL NEXT Chapter 14: The Battle of the Western Woodlands
The sun was low on the horizon as Kael rode at the head of his column, the sound of horses' hooves crunching against the forest path.
The dense trees of the Western Woodlands loomed around them, casting long shadows that seemed to move with the breeze.
Kael's forces were small but disciplined: 250 infantrymen, 50 archers, and 30 cavalry, a carefully chosen portion of his standing army.
Their mission was clear: eliminate the bandits who had turned the woodlands into a haven of lawlessness and fear.
Riding beside Kael was Geralt, advising him on strategy. Despite his age, Geralt was a steady presence, his sharp eyes scanning the treeline for any sign of movement.
"The scouts reported the bandits have fortified a camp near the center of the woodlands," Geralt said. "Roughly forty to fifty men, lightly armed but entrenched. If we can lure them out, they'll lose their defensive advantage."
Kael nodded, his jaw set in determination. "We'll force their hand. Send a detachment of archers ahead to harass them. They'll think it's a small raiding party and come out to engage. Once they do, the infantry will cut them down."
Geralt's lips curled into a faint smile. "A sound plan, my lord. And the cavalry?"
Kael smirked. "The cavalry will stay hidden on the flank. Once the bandits are fully committed, they'll sweep in and finish the job."
Soon Kael raised his hand, signaling the column to halt.
The infantry fanned out, their spears glinting in the fading sunlight, while the archers quietly moved forward under cover of the trees.
Geralt and Kael dismounted, leading their horses to a secure location behind the line.
They needed no distractions.
Kael's voice was low but firm as he addressed his men. "These bandits have stolen from your families, raided your villages, and bled this barony dry. Today, we take back what's ours. Hold the line, follow your orders, and we will win."
The men murmured their agreement, gripping their weapons tightly.
Kael turned to the archers, who now knelt with arrows nocked and ready.
"Keep them off balance," Kael instructed. "We want them angry and reckless."
The archers nodded and disappeared into the shadows.
On the other side the bandit camp was a crude collection of tents and wooden barricades nestled in a clearing.
Smoke from their fires rose up to sky and the sound of drunken laughter rang through the trees.
They were complacent, unprepared for the storm about to descend upon them.
The first arrow struck a sentry square in the chest, silencing him before he could raise the alarm.
A second arrow felled another bandit near the fire.
Panic rippled through the camp as men scrambled for their weapons, shouting to each other in confusion.
"Form up!" one of the bandit leaders barked, but before his men could rally, another volley of arrows rained down, cutting through the disorganized group.
Fires were kicked over, tents collapsed, and the smell of blood mixed with the woodsmoke.
Kael watched from a ridge as the bandits began to emerge from the camp, shouting curses and charging blindly into the forest.
His archers retreated in small groups, firing as they fell back, drawing the bandits further from their defenses.
"They're taking the bait," Geralt said, a note of satisfaction in his voice.
Kael turned to his infantry. "Hold the line."
The bandits burst from the treeline into the clearing where Kael's infantry waited in tight formation.
Their spears like a wall of steel, shields interlocked.
The bandits hesitated for a moment, clearly surprised by the disciplined line before them, but their leader a scarred man with a crude axe roared a command, and they surged forward.
"Spears ready!" Kael shouted.
The infantry lowered their spears, bracing for the impact.
The bandits crashed into the line, their disorganized charge breaking against the wall of shields and steel.
The first rank of bandits fell almost immediately, impaled on spears or cut down by swords.
Kael moved behind the line, barking orders and ensuring no gaps formed in the formation.
"Hold! Keep the line tight!" he shouted, his voice carrying over the chaos.
The bandits, realizing their charge had failed, began to pull back, but Kael wasn't about to let them regroup.
"Push forward!" he commanded.
The infantry advanced, their shields pressing the bandits back step by step.
The disciplined formation was too much for the disorganized bandits, and their resolve began to waver.
Kael glanced to his left, where the cavalry had remained hidden in the trees, awaiting his signal.
He raised his sword, the metal glinting in the fading sunlight, and brought it down in a sweeping motion.
The cavalry erupted from the treeline, their horses thundering across the clearing.
The bandits turned, their faces twisting in fear as the mounted soldiers crashed into their flank.
Lances pierced through the disorganized group, and swords cut down those who tried to flee.
The bandits broke completely, scattering in all directions.
Some tried to retreat to the camp, but the remaining archers cut them down with well-placed shots.
Others dropped their weapons and surrendered, falling to their knees with hands raised.
The clearing was silent save for the groans of the wounded and the occasional shout of a soldier directing cleanup.
Kael stood in the center of the battlefield, his sword still in hand, blood staining his armor.
Around him, his men moved securing prisoners and tending to their injured comrades.
Geralt approached, his expression grim but satisfied. "It's over, my lord. The bandits are defeated."
Kael wiped his blade on a fallen bandit's cloak before sheathing it. "Losses?"
"Minimal," Geralt said. "Three dead, ten wounded. The bandits weren't as numerous or as well-armed as we feared."
Kael nodded, his gaze sweeping over the scene. "And the survivors?"
"About fifteen surrendered," Geralt replied. "What shall we do with them?"
Kael considered for a moment. "Bring them back to the villages. Let the people decide their fate. They've suffered enough at the hands of these men."
Geralt bowed. "As you command."
Kael turned his attention to the camp, now a smoldering ruin. "Search the area. If they've stolen supplies or gold, I want it recovered."
"Yes, my lord," Geralt said, moving to relay the order.