Before the cavalry reached the mid-way point, a mortar struck. It was an airburst which rained fire and metal fragments over the battlefield. This time a serious number of soldiers were left behind, soaking the soil in their blood.
As the wind swept in over the fields, he picked up the acrid scent of brimstone. In spite of the smoke burning his nostrils, sulphur was an old friend, and neither him nor his men outwardly reacted to it. They stood there stoically, as smoke rolled over them, taunting their opponent.
The group of horsemen on his right shot past the Spanish infantry, racing up the hill. Without being promoted eight Frenchmen popped out of their trenches and fired a volley. Three horses crashed to the ground,with riders being sent overtop. Another rider was pinned beneath the dead weight of his mount.
Disclaimer: This excerpt from Man of War is currently in development. There may be typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth.
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