Battle Ahead As the morning sun slowly descended, Hrobatos, hidden in the forest, observed the approaching Bavarian army. Gisela, by his side, gazed with fear in her eyes. From their concealed spot, they could see their soldiers lined up on the outskirts of the forest, with Kloukas before them. As the Bavarians spotted them, they came to a halt. A man in rich attire rode slowly toward Kloukas, accompanied by two horsemen. Kloukas walked ahead toward the incoming riders. "Who are you?" the man on the horse asked in Latin. Kloukas smiled, "What does it look like?" he asked rhetorically, "We are Avar, and you are on our land," he said. The man dismounted his horse, "I'm a Lord Odo, Bavarian lord on the Duke's business, and we have free passage," he said, standing before Kloukas. Kloukas smiled, "Well, Bavarian lord, I haven't heard about any safe passages for you," he said. Lord Odo grew nervous and angry, "Move your men away and let us pass," he commanded. Kloukas stepped closer to him, "No, we have a caravan with women and children; you won't pass. Turn your army and go home," Kloukas said, pointing in the direction from which the Bavarians came. The Bavarian lord sighed, "Move your men, or you'll all die, and then your women and children in the caravan," he threatened, growing angrier. Kloukas remain calm, suddenly he made a swift move and cut the man's cheek with his dagger. Lord Odo didn't have a chance to react, Kloukas cought him by surprise with his swift and deliberate action. Odo screamed and flinched, steping back in pain, as Kloukas gazed at him, "Then let it be so," Kloukas said as the lord pressed his hand on the open wound. "Prepare to meet your God!" Kloukas shouted and turned away, walking toward his soldiers. As the Bavarian lord gave orders to prepare for a cavalry charge, Kloukas smiled, his lips stretched in contentment. He was pleased with how easy it was to provoke the Bavarians into making a huge mistake and falling for their trap. Witnessing the scene, Gisela gazed at Hrobatos in shock, "What have Kloukas done!?" she asked, perplexed. Hrobatos smiled, "He motivated Bavarians to make the mistake we hoped they would do," he said, contentment evident in his voice. ‘’And where are the spearmen?’’ Gisela asked, ‘’Shouldn’t they be in first lines?’’ Hrobatos gazed at her, "They are in first lines, but their spears are on the ground. Kloukas knows how to lure the enemy into a trap; they think that in our lines are swordsmen, easy prey for cavalry. But actually, they are spearmen, the worst nightmare for cavalry; they would raise spears when the Bavarian came too close to be able to stop or evade. It's a misleading tactic," he said. "Come on, we have to prepare; soon, the chaos of the battle will start. *** Kloukas came to his men; in the distance, Bavarian cavalry formed into a charging formation behind him. "People, as we spoke, raise spears when they are too close to do anything against it. Don't rush to die; do as said; every second man will step behind the man on his left, giving them room to pass through. Swordsmen, when they get through our lines, you must run forward and stop and hold Bavarian infantry. They can't get into the forest; keep them outside for our cavalry." Kloukas said, and the thunderous sound of galloping horses echoed behind him. Kloukas turned to face the enemy, "Men, be brave; we will be victorious today!" he shouted, drawing his sword. Kloukas and his men watched the incoming enemy cavalry; the sound of a few hundred horses galloping toward them filled the air, and tension among the ranks was palpable as the dust cloud grew more extensive and closer to them. "Here they come!" Kloukas shouted, "Steady men!" he commanded. Bavarian cavalry came closer, "Steady…" he repeated, "Steady…" they almost could feel the air pressed before horses, "Spears!" he shouted as the enemy was only yards away, "Swap!" he shouted and raised a spear. Soldiers quickly raised spears, holding them fast, pointed toward the enemy. As planned, every second man took a step aside, standing behind the man before him, giving Bavarian horses gaps to go through. The first line of Bavarian horses hit the spears; they noticed the spears too late, and there was no way to stop the horses or steer them away. Shock and terror painted the faces of Bavarian soldiers; the first line was almost devastated, horses stabbed on spears, neighing in pain as they collapsed on the ground. Kloukas wielded his sword, cutting down every Bavarian who fell off the wounded or dead horse. Screams of men and horses filled the air. Gaps created in Kloukas' formation were too tempting for horses; animals just steered through, no matter what the rider tried to do; scared horses just chose to go where they had free space to go through. As Bavarian forces galloped through the lines, spearmen sliced through the air with their spears. They didn't aim; they just stabbed and hoped Bavarians would find their spearhead. It didn't take long; scared animals were either through the lines or in the middle of the lines. Swordsmen, cutting around them what they could reach, swiftly ran through the spearmen lines, taking the front, ready for incoming Bavarian infantry. Spearmen reacted quickly; with swordsmen guarding their back, they closed the formation and turned toward the now boxed-in Bavarian cavalry. Bavarians, finding themselves between two lines of spearmen, didn't know what to do; every man tried to steer in his direction. As some tried to break the lines, only to be pitced by sharp spears, others looked for the opportunity to escape. As Kloukas' spearmen started closing in on the Bavarians from the front and back, stabbing and slicing with their spears, the room for Bavarian cavalry became tighter and tighter. There was no escape; horses refused to go near the spears, some prone on their backs, throwing riders on the ground, to be trampled by hooves of scared animals. As Lobelos and his archers appeared on top of the slopes, ''Rain death upon them!'' Lobelos shouted, his voice echoing through the forsest. The shock and terror in the eyes of the Bavarian cavalrymen turned into surrender. The ground soaked with blood turned into grim mud, became another struggle for the cavalry, as panicked horses started to slip, falling on the ground and trapping riders under them. The spearmen, however, continued their assault, working as a finely tuned machine, stabbing and slicing. They didn't even give the Bavarians a chance to get into a fight with their short swords. As the arrows began pouring down like rain on them, they just gave up and stopped fighting. They realized that this ambush wasn't about winning the battle; it was about killing them all, slaughtering them to the last man. They knew that they were all going to die. *** The swordsmen, arranged in formidable double lines, forged a living shield wall as the advancing Bavarian spearmen, leading their infantry, drew near. The atmosphere crackled with tension as the Bavarian lord, perched atop his steed, seethed with frustration at the earlier loss of his cavalry. The impending clash between the Bavarian infantry and Hrobatos' swordsmen ignited like a storm, shields deflecting some of the spears while others found their mark, piercing the flesh of valiant soldiers desperately striving to maintain the line. The battlefield roared with the clash of steel, a tumultuous dance of blood and iron unfolding before the eyes of the enraged Bavarian lord. With valor in their hearts, the resilient Slavic swordsmen fought tenaciously, thrusting and slashing with their blades over the protective embrace of their shields. Despite their bravery, the Bavarians, wielding superior numbers, exerted relentless pressure, gradually pushing the Slavic warriors backward. The line hovered on the precipice of collapse, the clash of steel echoing the struggle for dominance. Then like a thunderous tide rolling in from the rear, a mighty roar erupted, resonating with the unified voices of a hundreds of warriors. Having successfully dispatched the Bavarian cavalry, the Slavic spearmen surged forward with unwavering determination. ''Support the lines!'' Mouhlo shouted leading his men forward. With seamless coordination of forces, they rushed to the aid of their sword-wielding comrades, fortifying the line. Perched atop his steed, Hrobatos exhaled a sigh of relief, the tension in his shoulders dissipating. A fleeting worry had gripped him as the line teetered on the edge of collapse. From the Bavarian ranks, a volley of arrows sliced through the air, descending in a foreboding arc toward his beleaguered men. The inevitability of such losses weighed on him, but survival demanded a toll. Yet, the Slavic army did not remain indebted to the arrows of their foes. Out of the forest's shadow, a retaliatory volley soared into the air. Lobelos, having efficiently dispatched the Bavarian cavalry, swiftly marshaled his archers to the outskirts. With swift precision, he commanded a counterattack on the encroaching Bavarian army. Arrows, like avenging spirits, found their marks, striking chaos into the heart of the opposition and reclaiming a measure of retribution for the hard-pressed Slavic forces. A resonant horn blast pierced the air, heralding the arrival of Koseniz and his lightning-fast light cavalry. In a swift, coordinated maneuver, they descended upon the unsuspecting Bavarian right flank, their horse archers skillfully aiming at the enemy troops while maintaining a relentless gallop. Hrobatos, atop his steed, experienced that peculiar taste in his mouth, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. His heart raced, and his hands clenched the reins with unwavering determination. Fixated on the unfolding chaos of the battlefield, Hrobatos stared without a blink, patiently biding his time. He awaited the opportune moment to unleash his formidable heavy cavalry—four hundred strong—in a blistering charge that would cut through the enemy lines like a scythe through wheat as the Slavic commander was prepared to unleash a devastating blow upon the wavering Bavarian forces. Koseniz and part of his light cavalry keep attacking the Bavarian flank. They weren't a match for Bavarian spearmen and swordsmen, but Koseniz didn't want to get in a direct fight with them. He attacked just enough to keep them busy and concentrated on him and his men without suffering significant losses. Amidst the chaos of the ongoing battle between the Bavarian army and the Slavic forces, the Bavarian archers, engrossed in their preparation for another assault, overlooked the unfolding catastrophe behind them. With the impending threat looming, Hrobatos unsheathed his sword, raising it high; he shortly gazed at Gisela and nodded. With a swift turn back to the battleground, Hrobatos bellowed, "Charge!" The heavy cavalry burst forth from the concealment of the forest, their thunderous gallop muffled until the last moment. On the open terrain, they surged forward, swords catching the glint of sunlight as a growing dust cloud trailed behind them. The Bavarian army, oblivious to the impending danger, was consumed in their struggle against the Slavic infantry and the relentless assault of Koseniz's light cavalry. In their oblivious state, the Bavarian archers readied their arrows for yet another attack. However, their fate was sealed. As Hrobatos directed his charging cavalry toward the unsuspecting archers, he watched with grim satisfaction. The heavy cavalry, emerging from the forest cover, crashed into the Bavarian backline with unparalleled force. Aghast and paralyzed with fear, the Bavarian lord watched the impending disaster unfold before him. The ground quivered with the relentless thunder of hooves, and the once-confident archers found themselves at the mercy of the brutal onslaught. Men were tossed like ragdolls as the charging horses plowed through their ranks. Disoriented and overwhelmed, the archers struggled to comprehend the sudden turn of events. Hrobatos and his men, without a hint of mercy, cleaved through the Bavarian ranks, their blades swiftly becoming stained with the dark hue of enemy blood. The battlefield echoed with a symphony of screams, shouts, and curses, blending with the chaotic symphony of horses' neighs and stumbling hooves. Gripped by terror, the Bavarian lord wheeled his horse around, joining his commanders in a desperate attempt to escape the unfolding catastrophe. However, Koseniz's light cavalry, anticipating their every move, swiftly pursued, closing the distance with ruthless determination. Fifty warriors thundered behind the Bavarian lord, closing the distance between them. *** Amidst the tumultuous battlefield, Gisela, perched on her horse just at the edge of the forest, found herself paralyzed by a mix of fear and desperation. Her usually composed demeanor shattered, her face drained of color, and her trembling hands betrayed the inner turmoil. Unaware of her actions, she impulsively nudged her horse forward, drawn inexplicably toward the heart of the chaotic conflict. Hrobatos, engaged in the thick of the enemy forces, became an unwitting focal point for Gisela's horrified gaze. Oblivious to her detachment at first, her twenty heavy cavalrymen, initially confused, soon followed her lead. Their shouts and pleas for her to return fell on deaf ears as Gisela's horse transitioned into a canter, gradually accelerating towards the maelstrom of battle. "Commander, get back!" a concerned soldier yelled, desperately attempting to halt her advance. Yet, Gisela, trapped in a state of shock, remained unresponsive. As her horse gained momentum, her detachment, wielding swords and voicing their alarm, surged behind her. In a desperate attempt to safeguard their commander, a few soldiers managed to break through the enemy line, clearing a perilous path for Gisela. In the midst of the chaos, Hrobatos, caught in a momentary distraction, glimpsed Gisela astride her horse within the enemy ranks. A spear hurtled towards her, and dread seized his throat. Time seemed to freeze as his heart skipped a beat, the clamor of war replaced by an unrelenting, monotonous whistle in his ears. Gisela was thrown backward from her horse, collapsing onto the unforgiving ground. Reality warped for Hrobatos as an otherworldly urgency consumed him. He guided his horse toward her, slashing wildly in a blind effort to clear a path. Every instinct screamed for him to reach Gisela, to shield her from the impending danger unfolding in the heart of the raging battle. As Hrobatos surged toward Gisela's side, a contingent of his men, swept up in the urgency of the moment, instinctively followed their commander. Mirroring his actions, they cut through the ranks of enemies, creating a chaotic path in their wake. It felt like an eternity, but finally, Hrobatos arrived at the spot where Gisela lay. Her soldiers had formed a protective circle around her, locked in a fierce struggle with the encroaching adversaries. Hrobatos, fueled by a singular determination, slashed his way through the fray, relentlessly carving a path toward his wife. Gisela, lying on the blood-soaked ground, began to stir. Slowly, she rose to her knees and then found her feet. Her sword lay nearby in the muddy carnage. As she picked it up, her gaze swept across the tumultuous battlefield. Her appearance, once pristine, was now marred—pale face and blond hair smeared with mud and blood, attire torn and saturated with the brutality of war. Shaking like a leaf in the wind, she stood her ground. A Bavarian soldier, wounded and disheveled, emerged before her. His left shoulder bore a gaping wound, revealing the bone beneath. Despite his injuries, he stumbled towards Gisela, sword dragging in the mire behind him. Gisela, her hands trembling, took a step back, raising her sword, in shock she just held sword before her pointed toward approaching man. The Bavarian soldier, attempting a feeble swing, sliped on blood soaked ground and fell directly on Gisela's blade, which slid into his chest, driving her backward. The weight of his falling body pressed her blade deeper as he collapsed to his knees. Hrobatos, finally breaking through the chaos, leaped off his horse and rushed to Gisela's side. Her torn gown exposed a shoulder, and blood streamed down her face from a cheek wound inflicted by a spear. She stood there, transfixed, staring into the vacant eyes of the fallen enemy, still gripping her sword lodged in his chest. Hrobatos gently placed his hand on hers, reinforcing her grip on the bloodied weapon. With a firm foot on the fallen soldier's chest, he pushed the lifeless body away, freeing Gisela's blade from its gruesome hold. Observing Gisela closely, Hrobatos noted with a sense of relief that her bleeding wound appeared to be superficial. Fortune had favored her as the spear had grazed over her shoulder, resulting in a slight cut to her cheek and the shredding of her gown. Concern etched across his face, Hrobatos sought to gauge her well-being, but Gisela remained unresponsive, lost in the grip of shock. Swiftly taking command of the situation, Hrobatos pulled her towards him, guiding her back into the saddle of her horse. Once she was securely mounted, he turned to one of her soldiers with urgency evident in his voice. "Breakthrough; bring her away from here!" he commanded, and without hesitation, he vaulted onto his own horse. Recognizing the severity of the situation, Gisela's men immediately moved to escort her from the battlefield. As they navigated through the waning chaos, the intensity of the struggle diminished. The Bavarian soldiers, no longer engaged in active combat, began to seek opportunities for escape. Yet, Hrobatos, resolute in his plan, ensured that there would be no reprieve for the fleeing Bavarians. Those who managed to evade the direct clash were swiftly dealt with by the lurking light cavalry and the precise arrows of the Slavic archers. Once a chaotic tableau of violence, the battlefield became a grim canvas marked by the decisive execution of Hrobatos' strategy. The escaping Bavarians faced an unrelenting onslaught, ensuring that none would elude the grasp of the Slavic forces.