A Warrior's Redemption (The Warrior Kind)

The Tranquil Islander boats skipped through the shallows to then thud thunderously into the sands of the beach. Soldiers and sailors alike boiled over the sides of the ships and ran up the beach and past the Shrine to the dirt work fortifications beyond, over thirty thousand strong in number.

The tattered line of warriors gathered on the mound top watched them come upwards toward them looking to each other repeatedly to make sure they weren't alone in what they had just seen transpire on the ocean blue. This was a day of days and all they could think, as they stood weary and bloody, but resolute of will, was how blessed they were to be a part of something so grand, as the wondrous works of their Creator were shown to light in the time of this day.

Nadalarkin glanced up at me and nodded, as if words couldn't provide an adequate description for what we had just scene and I tended to agree with him. I saw Captain Jansa in the press of men making their way to the mound top.

"I see you managed to come through after all Captain. Thank you for coming! I only hope it's to something more positive than our deaths at their hands." I said gesturing to the approaching enemy that had temporarily halted their advance to just outside arrow range.

There appeared to be confusion among the massed ranks of enemy soldiers as to why they were suddenly so many of us before them, when they had thought us almost beaten and few in number.

Captain Jansa looked up to me, "Whether we live or we die we're here to fight, even if it be to the last one of us in a glorious defeat! We fight by our friend's side for the freedom of our two peoples!"

"Perhaps not to the death after all Captain Jansa. Look!" I said pointing.

To the south behind the enemy army on the plain rose a large dust cloud that grew larger and larger. General Nadero had made it!

The enemy had also noticed the cloud of dust, but not as soon as they should have as their focus had been entirely directed upon us and our resurgent numbers. The cloud of dust grew no closer, but rose to hang in the air. Slowly out of the dissipating dust the ranks of marching men materialized even as a long unbroken stream of cavalry cut off to the side in the direction of the western shore.

General Nadero intended to cut the enemy off from any support by their fleet, which was gathering offshore. The militia stood in the way of any retreat back to the enemies homeland in the south.