Bangs, thumps, yells and ringing sword-swipes reached up to the ridge as the next two regiments swept into the fight. One after another the 4th and 5th Dragoon Guards drove into the Russians’ flanks. A strange, low, moaning cheer filled the valley as the Irish 5th crashed home, many simply punching the Russian horsemen with the steel hilts of their sabres.
One trooper barged his horse so hard into an enemy hussar that he overbalanced with the shock of the collision, whilst swiping wildly with his sabre. The blow was badly aimed, for his frightened, bruised horse had jerked him off target. The blade twinkled and fell, but it skidded off the Russian’s sleeve, doing no more damage than cutting his reins and leaving the attacker sprawling over his horse’s neck.
The rest of the duel owed noth
