With an order from the king, wranglers brought our horses to the front, and we mounted. Our infantry marched forward in eighty-man phalanxes of centuria. The Highlander Picts, Scots from the Borderlands, and the horsemen from Northumbria harried the enemy flanks while archers from both sides loosed volleys of deadly shafts. Merlin’s artillery returned barrages of wizard fire. The explosions added crescendos to the music of battle.
Thousands of Arthur’s mounted knights clashed against Mordred’s minions and soon found themselves in a melee. However, those unhorsed souls who survived their fall got to their feet and fought valiantly.