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The first shots of the battle were fired as long streaks of lightning blazed from one side to the other. Both sides hurled lightning brutally, though the Seanchan army was more disorganized and uncoordinated with their attacks. All the trainers were aiming for personal glory, it seemed, and there were more than a few holes in their armor.
The Asha'man had prepared carefully for the battle, weaving intricate shields that were not easily disrupted. Lightning cracked and dissipated, short streaks spreading across the shield where the lightning made contact. The Asha'man's lightning bolts were much more effective, cutting blackened, scorched swaths in the Seanchan cavalry.
The Seanchan cavalry was racing down the hill toward the front line, nearly forty thousand strong, all heavily armored with long steel-tipped lances. Unfortunately, those lances could only come to play at short range, and the archers could fire at long range. Even as lightning called down from the sky shattered the unbroken line of the charge, waves of arrows blackened the sky and fell among the cavalry.
There was a notable thunk sound when thirty thousand arrows fell among the tight lines of the charge, breaking the rank of horses. Men fell, and were trampled by their horses, and the arrows kept falling. Volley after volley thundered down on the masses, and though the majority continued to advance, thousands fell on the ground. Moans and cries fell on deaf ears among Mat's army as the Seanchan horsemen were brutally bludgeoned and beaten.
The front line of cavalry suffered horrendous loses as the arrows fell among them, and men that fell from their horse often dragged other men with them to the ground. One man, who held a tasseled spear that marked him as a minor member of the Blood, fell with three arrows protruding out of his chest. Some of the arrows fired began to light the sky up like beacons; the archers had begun to tip their arrows with oil and light them.
Several siege weapons, newly invented during the siege of Cairhien, fired massive arrows that were a span long. The huge arrows often went through two or three men, penetrating entirely and creating gaping wounds which spurted blood. Finally, the ranged weapons shifted their focus from the cavalry and began to fall among the infantry.
The cavalry, temporarily relieved, finally fell among the front lines of Mat's pikemen and swordsmen. The foot line mostly held, but pockets of warriors hacked through to the other side. They were met by a counter charge of cavalry which met them blow for blow, throwing the Seanchan out of balance and throwing them back to the front line. The pikemen, meanwhile, had grown more organized and made a solid wall of bristling steel points. The battle became an endless bloodbath after that, as the infantry marched in and the fighting became a brutal melee where lives were lost in an instant.
After several hours of fighting, the right flank began folding in. It was actually strong, but it was to start of the feigned retreat of the army. Rand and the Asha'man would hold a small pass in the hills until Mat's army was a safe distance away, then they would fall back themselves. As the flanks folded and the center began dropping back, Mat noted with satisfaction that the bug helmets of the Seanchan adorned the majority of the dead. He turned his horse around and rode off into the retreat.
Rand smiled grimly as he saw his friend leave, and the army marched behind him. Rand looked around at the men surrounding him, all honorable and brave warriors. The Asha'man truly were the Guardians of Justice, the Defenders of the Right. He raised his Aes Sedai-wrought steel sword, and yelled at the top of his lungs.
" Asha'man! Rally to me! Hold the pass for the retreat!" He nodded with grim satisfaction as fire, lightning, and tumbling rocks greeted the over eager troops who ran to pursue. They would hold the passes as long as they needed. He gestured with his hand, and a massive bloom of fire rose from the middle of the Seanchan army. Several damane fell with that, he thought.
***
Suroth almost grimaced at the thought of the campaigns being waged right outside the city and the battles being fought. And the soldiers dying. She didn't care for the men, particularly, or their families in Seanchan. It was just that the Seanchan losses were staggering, and the constant near-defeats were punishing to the morale of her army. It wasn't named the Ever Victorious Army for nothing, even if the victories had mostly come from the mastery of the damane and the inability of the enemy to cope with the new tactical element the One Power introduced. The only reason she didn't constantly grimace was because it was improper for the Blood to show so much emotion.
The thought that galled her even more, that hounded her day by day, was that the enemy commander had been that impudent young man who had practically been a da'covale. It also didn't help that the orders for his capture and execution had failed to have been carried out by the soldiers of the army. She glanced down at one of the reports on her large table, and felt growing consternation.
The day's battles had been a staggering loss in life, even if the enemy had retreated. The total Seanchan losses for the campaign were nearing thirty thousand, with half of those casualties coming from the Asha'man's stand today. They had held the way for the retreat for hours, and even the channellers couldn't unseat them from their position. Instead, the sul'dam had floundered and milled about and tried to strike at them with a few errant bolts of lightning, which only served to call attention and death to themselves. It truly was infuriating.
As was the enemy's commander. This Mat Cauthon, he was truly an unusual person. He was able to command such a large army, though it was still dwarfed by the numbers in the Corenne, and yet he had accepted his stay at the palace under Tylin's thumb. Or was it body? Suroth knew that Tylin had only kept the boy around as a bed pet, even though she had sometimes claimed he was more important than that. Suroth had never taken those comments about his importance or skill to be true, and it had lost her the Daughter of the Nine Moons and many soldiers.
The Empress herself, may she live forever, had begun to pay attention to the city when her daughter was captured and she had only grown more interested when she learned of Mat Cauthon. A man, who had accepted his status as barely above da'covale, had succeeded in capturing her daughter and smuggling damane out from the palace. That was amazing to the Empress, but she had been even more surprised to learn that he now led the army that was repeatedly giving harsh blows to the Seanchan.
The last time Suroth had spoken to her still was fixated in her mind. The Empress, when in the presence of a relatively close friend and member of the High Blood, had dropped her control on her emotions entirely. She had ranted, raved, threatened, berated, and insulted Suroth with such a rough tongue that Suroth would have thought the tirade was from a commoner. But at the end of the meeting, the Empress had said several strange things.
" Mat Cauthon. Hmm. I would like to meet this bed toy general who kidnapped by daughter." And she had laughed. She had laughed, and forgotten Suroth entirely.
" A truly bold man, this Mat Cauthon. If only we had him as a battlefield captain."
Suroth was broken from her memory when Tylin walked in. She turned to her slowly, and nodded to a seat across from her. Tylin took it and looked at Suroth with her eyes. They were sharp, and her gaze was like some hawk's, she gazed with intelligence and courage and fire. Suroth could meet her gaze squarely, but just barely. She was a strong woman.
" Tylin, I need to learn more of Mat Cauthon. Other than your son, and I believe he knew him less than you, you are the only one in the city who had extensive personal contact with Mat Cauthon. I need to know everything. Leave no stone unturned." Tylin sighed, but nodded. She tried to find where to begin.
" Mat was... special. We didn't part under the best circumstances, granted, but I can't let that color my impressions. He is a bold man; he is unpredictable. That one is a gambler, but he has the skill and the luck to be successful about it. I knew he was a general; at least that is what Elayne and Nynaeve told me while they were staying here, and that he commanded a corps that numbered only ten thousand. They were called Shen an Calhar, or the Band of the Red Hand." Suroth stopped her and said.
" His personal command numbers at least thirty thousand now, and he has another command under him all comprised of crossbowmen." Tylin nodded speculatively, and continued.
" Yes, that would make sense. I heard them say he was a great commander, though they were vague as to how he got his abilities. They weren't being vague, I believe, they just didn't know. Mat himself never said how he got his mind for tactics, but he said that no matter his ability the price he paid was too high."
" That is what he said about his ashandarei, too," Suroth said absently, " He said the price was too high. Tuon told me about that. Could he have gotten them from the same place?" Tylin nodded.
" You say these ashandarei are rare? Yes, well his abilities certainly are. He had another thing, too, something that could block the Power from him. A small foxhead medallion. He was never without it. He said that was part of the deal he made, the price he paid. Those were his exact words. A deal made, a price paid, but the price was too high." Suroth was quite shocked by the revelation. A Power-blocking medallion? This man was truly unusual.
" What do you mean, a Power-blocking medallion?"
" You know of Healing?" Suroth nodded an impatient yes.
" Well, because it involved flows that directly went into his body, it was prevented by his medallion. Like I said, it protects him from the power. It doesn't protect him if you use the Power to throw something at him, because that is not a direct effect to his body. The medallion is still effective, though." Suroth nodded again, her eyes troubled and her mind racing. Why had the man retreated?
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