"Your first opportunity at commanding troops and you put your stake in an ambush... Let's hope it works out..." was the comment that raised through Kal's head, until ultimately the words Hope it works out... were the only ones left.

Kal mulled over this dark thought for a moment, and then put the finishing touches on his plan. First he had a soldier take the two horses away from his chosen battleground. They would be useless in the uneven forrest and could give away their position. Then he made sure everyone was certain of their role. Finally he moved and the others moved into their holes and waited.

Kallain was unsure how long he they stayed listening to the tense quiet of the forrest examining his blade for any flaws. To him it felt like a lifetime of anxious anticipation. But in reality it probably only lasted an hour give or take, when he heard the sound of metal boots and yells of rage coming down the road.

From his vantage Kal could see Reinoldus supporting one of his men wounded with an arrow to the shoulder, as he and the other turned hard into the woods into the carefully planned ambush. Then he saw to his estimate 18 men in hot pursuit in patchwork leather armor, with the montly emblem of a turnip on the shoulder, follow the knight and his two men.

The next few moments Kallain would count in the time between each breath. One the first of the turnips reached the first hole. Two he was mere steps away from from Kal's earthy dugout the center most hole, as their commander Kal thought it just that he be in the center of the conflict. Three the forerunner has made it to the edge of the trap, the rest are fairly dispersed through it, Reinoldus and the other man stop, the agreed upon signal. Four Kallain grips the handle of his sword more tightly and leaps from his hole, he hears six others do the same (the last four are to wait until more bandits show up before joining the battle). Five Kal sees the first man he will have ever killed. He has yet to even register that their own tactics are being used against them, his eyes are still on the knight who is now resting the wounded man against a tree and draw his sword. This is the last sight he will ever see as Kallain buries his sword deep into his neck.

Kal is conscious of a sickening wet squelch as he pulls the blade out and scans the battle for his next opponent. He sees most of his men have managed to slay a foe before the survivors began to put up any resistance. Reinoldus bellowing his warcry charged the men he only moments before had been retreating from. He had to make up for lost time now didn't he? Kallain sees his next foe, a giant of a man wielding a lumber axe as tall as Kal himself. He made up the rear of the horde and if left unengaged would put that axe of his to good use. Kallain charged him hoping to catch him unaware and end him quickly. The young prince ended his run with a sweeping cut of his blade aimed at the bandit's impressive gut.

Unfortunately the man was much quicker on his feet then Kal expected and leaped away from the sword now staring down his opponent. Kal now left exposed by his daring move attempted to move into one of the stances drilled into him by Reinoldus, but before he could get his weight squared the bandit with a heavy step hurled his thick forehead directly into Kallain's own sending the world spinning and the prince to the ground.

Kallain would have died with an axe buried in his head if the the uninjured soldier who had accompanied Reinoldus to the village didn't let loose an arrow into the brutes tricep. While his assailant started cursing the gods Kal took a rather unnoble action and from the ground kicked the bandits ankle hard enough to send him to one knee. Kallain still realing in pain got to his feet and shoulder charged his enemy into one of the holes his men had used for ambush. With a bellow the man fell into it banging his head on the way down. He wasn't dead but with his injuries it was very unlikely he would be crawling out to rejoin the fight.

The young commander turned his attention back to the skirmish and saw with satisfaction that few turnips now remained. Then he heard from the woods a sound very similar to the one his men had made leaping from their holes as six more combatants were sprinting towards the scene. Luckily they had prepared for just such an event and the last four of his men including Tamlyn exited a short distance of and moved to intercept them.

Kallain grinned as he saw the panicked expression on the remaining bandits faces, they were swiftly being overrun and their final ace in the hole had failed them. The young prince was scanning the battle looking for the best place to lend his sword, when he noticed one of the enemy break away and began running down the road, towards the town and the rest of the Turnip forces. Kal was about to rush the man when he felt a meaty grip around his armored ankle.

The bandit he had shoved  into the hole was not completely out of the conflict it seemed. With the wound in his arm he was unable to easily pull himself out, yet he could hold the prince there for a short time. Kallain couldn't effectively turn himself so that he could slice at his annoying foe, and while he struggled embarrassingly against him he prayed to Spaldi that none of the men were watching. Finally Kallain managed to free his foot and in anger crushed the bandit's grasping hand with his plate boot. And with a swift kick to the head his large adversary slumped unconscious.

The battle was wrapping up and Tamlyn approached Kallain. "Sire it would appear we have some prisoners, the men are wondering what shall become of them?" He said wearily. Kallain looked at them. A man whose leg had been severed during the fight, a uninjured man around Kallain's own age, his his own prisoner unconscious in the hole, and most disturbingly a boy no older then 10 at best.