Part 1
It had been a long hard trek across the Ashlands to the Zainab camp, but Sigmund and his raiding party of Erabenimsum were strong and fit. He looked out over the camp from the hill he was lying on, and could see that despite his best efforts, the Zainab had obviously heard of their coming, as all the warriors in the camp were girded for battle. Sigmund’s men were all veteran’s of many raids, and all were eager to start the attack. This raid was a long time in preparation, not for food or supplies of any sort, but to crush the spirit of the Zainab, who were prospering greatly in the fertile grazelands. He signaled his most trusted bodyguard, and the man blew a long note upon his horn. The Rading party rose up from their hiding places behind the hill with a great shout and began to run towards the Zainab camp.
Mordakai had been waiting for this attack ever since his scouts had spotted the raiding party several days ago. His warriors were all fully equipped and prepared to face any threat to their camp. Just then, he heard a powerful blast on a horn, and a great cry arose from beyond the hill just to the East of the camp. He bellowed orders to his warriors, and they drew their bows, prepared to loose at his signal. Mordakai waited until the raiders were just over the crest of the hill, then gave the signal for his warriors to start firing. Wave after wave of arrows rained down on the raiders, and many fell, but many more ran on, the arrows bouncing harmlessly off shields and armour.
Sigmund was furious. The cursed Zainab had been better prepared than he had thought, and ten of his fourty five raiders were dead because of it. However, they still outnumbered the twenty Zainab warriors who stood before them, and he was confident that they would be victorious this day. Five more men fell before they reached the Zainab battle line, but now they had the advantage of superior numbers. He ran through the melee, seeking out the Ashkan of the Zainab, Mordakai. A warrior stood before him, thrusting with a longsword towards is throat, but Sigmund parried and neatly ran the man through. Drawing his blade from the body, he spotted Mordakai ahead of him, locked in combat with two of his raiders. Even as he watched, Mordakai performed a near impossible move that left both raiders dead, beheaded by the shining silver longsword of the Zainab Ashkan.
Mordakai was worried. He knew his men were valiant fighters, but he had hoped to thin the raiders numbers a bit more with archery before engaging them in close combat. However, his warriors were performing admirably, with over half the raiders who had reached their line dead. But there were only ten defenders left, whilst thirteen attackers remained, as well as the leader, a huge man wielding a steel longsword. Seeing the man running towards him, he readied his sword and shield a bellowed a battlecry just before their weapons clashed together. Shock flashed momentarily across the face of his opponent, but was quickly replaced by determination. Their swords flashed in the sun, moving so fast that all anyone who watched could see were bright blurs and the occasional shower of sparks from the blades clashing together. All other combat stopped, the combatants mesmerized by the duel taking place between their leaders. Suddenly a streak of red flashed through the air. Mordakai had cut Sigmund’s face with a swift counterattack to a bodythrust. But a new gash appeared on his shoulder not after, the enraged raider lashing out too fast for him to block the blow.
Sigmund was furious. He was the greatest swordsman in his tribe, yet still he had not been the one to draw first blood in this duel. He had cut his opponent’s shoulder though, and now the two men, tiring from the blistering speed of their initial exchange, slowed down in their attacks, circling each other and probing for weaknesses in each others guard with their swords. Suddenly Mordakai dashed forwards, his sword moving too fast for Sigmund to block it, and with a wet thud, his head fell to the ground, his body toppling over seconds later.
A stunned silence greeted this desperate move. With a wail of terror, the remaining raiders broke and ran from the camp, leaving bloody but proud Zainab warrior’s to clean up the bodies of the dead an tend to the wounded of both sides. Mordakai was proud of his men, but he wished the day had been less costly to his tribe. Of the original twenty warriors, only seven remained on their feet, and three of them bore wounds that would need treatment soon. But he knew it would take a long time for the Erabenimsum to recover from their disastrous raid, so his tribe was safe for now.
This is my first attempt at writing so any contructive criticism would be welcomed