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On the day of the battle our orda and the enemy orda, under control of Taychot and Chamuka, we charged each other.

 

 

Horses were galloping full speed toward each other. When it was the proper time we let our arrows fly. The enemy also chose the same time to send their arrows our way. A cloud seemed to appear between us; however, it was the shadow of thousands of arrows which seemed to hang in the air.

The outer flanks of both ordas had time to send another cloud of arrows while the inner ranks had no room to draw and aim their bows.

The sabers were drawn and we hacked at each other. Those who had fallen to the earth continued wielding their sabers at the enemy and the enemy’s horses. The horses spun and kicked with a fury. More men were thrown to the earth where they were either cut with a sabre or trampled by the terrified horses.

The screams of pain and shouts of triumph were mixed. The dust rose from the battlefield and was hard to tell friend from foe. The blood of men and horses filled the air with a sickening odor. It mixed with the smell of urine and feces; some of which escaped the intestines which had spilled on the earth from a carved open stomach.

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Tomorrow’s Post;  #17      I was then recognized as leader of all ordas

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