Reunited

After a long trek through the silent night in the hands of the oddball Amazon Myera, Pionus ordered her to return and not tell any Amazons where his camp was, but to tell them that he was in fact the king of Cynthys. After a few minutes walking, he reached the  scorched corpse of the Amazon he had slain previously among a pile of blackened trees.

Pionus admired his rather gruesome work, and walked passed a massive overturned trunk, and in to the entrance of the grassy clearing his men were camped in.

The moment he walked into sight, he heard a man shouting, "Get on those torsion ballistas, there's more of them, get a move on!" 

Pionus realized the danger he was in, and demonstratively through his sword to the ground, and raised his hand in surrender. A small group of men jogged through the short grass, and their looks of hard determination melted into looks of endless joy as they recognized their beloved king. 

"Pionus! Pionus!" The men shouted, and ran up to him, lowering their pikes. They stopped to a panting halt in front of him, all grinning stupidly. "My lord, I thought that you were dead!" A soldier said. 

Pionus looked at him sternly. "Why so?" 

"Well, I didn't think you were dead, but I-" He started.

"You missed me." Pionus finished for him, his stern face turning into a clever smile. 

The men all laughed, jostling each other gleefully. 

"Back to camp then, boys, we have work to do." Pionus said.

Pionus returned to the camp, eating a hot meal and drinking much missed clean water. He called in the logistics general for a discussion in his tent. 

"Greetings, general." Pionus said.

"My lord, I have urgent news." The general panted, his portly body sweating profusely. Pionus inclined his head, prompting him to continue. "You see, when you ah...when you disappeared my lord, a Mycerian force attacked us in the rear. They were clearly visible in the South Desert, and we were able to route them with our skirmishers and ballistas, but they will regroup, and if we let them they will have free access to plunder the ruins of Cynthys." 

Pionus sat up, and grabbed his sword from the table. "We're marching in precisely one hour. Get everything ready, we don't need to keep a camp here, the Amazons are far away." He said. The general looked at him quizically, as if to ask "How the hell would you know?" 

"I'll tell you the story over our victory feast later." Pionus said as he briskly walked out of his tent. 

Two hours later. After preparing and marching north through the South Cynthian Desert, the fresh Cynthian army catches up to the Mycerians. The Mycerian army was forming a thinly spread line facing Pionus' army.

Pionus was sleep deprived and still in a state of disbelief from his encounter with the Amazons, but no less alert on  the battlefield, his true home. Pionus was biologically in a state of euphoria, his mind had never been forced to think about so many battles and tactics in such a short span of days, and he loved it. His dark hair was messy, and his face produced whiskers, being unable to shave recently. 

There would be no riveting speech before this fight.

The Mycerian army waited patiently across an expanse of flat sand, the sun was about to rise, giving the to-be battlefield a dramatic appearance. Their army consisted of a long line of sword and shield infantry, a the general and his cavalry were behind the infantry, and a row of archers were stationed in front of  the infantry.

Pionus' army was organized into columns of skirmishers spread evenly among a routine wall of bristiling pikes and shields. His cavalry were centered in the left and right wings. About two hundred horsemen were packed tightly together with Pionus in the extreme right, and a widely spread group of eighty horsmen were located in the close left relative to Pionus' infantry. An array of ballistas were located in the rear. 

"Pikemen advance to enemy's front line. No permission to engage." Pionus said to the trumpeteer beside him. The trumpet's distinctive tune tore through the peaceful dawn. There was no recognizable sound of marching soldiers, the sound of their advance stifled by the sand. 

"Ballistas open fire." Pionus said, his eyes closed. The trumpet again broke the eerie silence of the battlefield. Pionus heard the heavy bolts streak through the air. "Skirmishers break formation and stay behind the infantry. Fire at will when in range." A long series of tunes were played out.  Pionus decided to keep his left wing cavalry stationary, and raised his sword. "Follow me, boys!"

The cavalry proceeded silently across the fine sand, travelling farther out right, Pionus' intention being to engage the Mycerian general and his retinue. 

As the Cynthian pikemen advanced, a volley of arrows hit the line. Some men fell, but the march was uninterupted. Pionus saw the Mycerian infantry break into two, and Pionus' men mirrored them. 

"Good judgement, boys." Pionus whispered. Another volley of ballista bolts buzzed toward the Mycerian line, impaling those unlucky enough to be in its path.

The Cynthian skirmishers pelted the Mycerian line ruthlessly, killing few but sewing chaos through their ranks. "Order the charge!" Pionus shouted at his trumpeteer who blew the impactful notes. The Cynthian line closed on the disordered Mycerians. "Ballistas cease fire." Pionus said, and the trumpeteer obeyed, relaying his command.

Pikes were driven mercilessly through the front line of foes, causing ribbons of blood to soak into the cool sand. The momentum of the Cynthian charge continued, and as pikes were abandoned and swords drawn, the future looked bleak for the overwhelmed Mycerians.

Pionus and his horsemen drew around the chaos, and charged towards the opposing general, who did the same. The two bodies of horses thundered across the sand.

Pionus' skirmishers continued spreading mayhem through the ranks of Mycerians who were now dropping like flies at the hands of Cynthys' finest. The sand became slick with blood, causing a route to become very implausible for the desperate Mycerians.

The two bodies of cavalry finally clashed, swords were plunged through light leather armour, and heads rolled. Pionus sought out the Mycerian general, a man wearing an elegantly decorated helmet, and fine clothing. He looked young and handsome, and hardly a warrior. Pionus cantered over to him, and swung his sword across the man's chest, but his blade bounced off the armour. The general grunted in fear as the sound of ringing bronze echoed in his ears.  Pionus made another move at him, this time firmly lopping  his decorated head clean off his shoulders, a flow of blood immediately ruining his fancy clothing. I guess he doesn't need them anyways. Pionus thought.

Unable to flee, the Mycerian archers and infantry surrendered and were taken prisoner. 

Now, back to my ingenius idea, I suppose. Farewell, lifeless desert and perilous  forest of Amazons, we shall meet again soon.