Wolves and War

by Candy Rae

From his vantage point on top of the hill Jim also watched, an inscrutable expression on his face, as the Larg army headed in his direction. For a moment he had the irrational idea that they were heading straight for him … personally. They were, he was thinking, like a swarm of locusts, spreading ever outwards as they advanced and just as deadly. Unfortunately for the infantry and Lindars standing waiting atop the hill, the Larg had the considerable advantage in that the sun was rising behind them but it could not be helped. Not even the Gods of the ancient civilisations had been able to alter Earth’s orbit or the sun’s rising to give their own side the advantage of the rising sun in battle.

  He lifted his binoculars up to his eyes, and after activating the anti-glare mechanism, scanned the plains to the northeast. The convict army was nearing the settlement. They were making good time but he judged that they were unlikely to be in an attack position for a few hours yet.

  The honour of ‘first blood’ would fall on the allied field army.

  Jim knew what to expect. Lind and Larg were fairly evenly matched number-wise. He and his allies did have one major advantage and an important one: they held the high ground and he fully intended to hold on to this. If the Larg were allowed a pawhold on the upper slopes the allies would lose their advantage, not an enviable way to fight when one was fighting for one’s life.

  The Lindars would break with their more usual practice and not follow any enemy feints and retreats downhill. Instead the Larg were to be forced to attack uphill again and again. If the Larg broke through, the Lind reserves would move forward and, plugging the gaps, force the Larg back down the hill. The battle would be fought and won on the narrow slip of high ground in front of the tree line.

  On the plains below, the last Larg reserve kohorts came ashore. These were the ones who would round up the northern meat herds after the Larg had won the battle. They would only be committed to the battlefield if Aoalvaldr required more troops in order to defeat his enemies. As yet, there were no sightings of Larg skirmishers probing the Lind flanks.

  According to tradition, only once had the Larg succeeded in outflanking the Lind. The Larg favoured the frontal assault, relying on their heavier weight and their brute strength to punch through the Lind lines, splitting the army into segments, and then repeating the manoeuvre again and again until they had surrounded and isolated individual Lindars. The Lindars they then wiped out one by one.

  In battles past, the Lind had, unconsciously for the most part, aided this tactic. By their very nature, the Lind defended their own rtathen first, other rtathen second. So as the battle progressed and pack-mates fell, they would tighten up their own ranks, leaving gaps between each Lindar. The Larg always took full advantage of this and would send in more warriors wherever a gap appeared. Not this time, this time the Lind lines were continuous and Jim had ordered they remain so. All Lindars had instructions to keep close to one another, no matter what pack. Contingency plans had been made for the reserve Lindars to fill in any gaps without delay.

  Slightly in front of and to one side of the command promon tory stood the solid ranks of Robert Lutterell’s infantry battalion. They would stand firm. They could not outrun the Larg if the Lindars were defeated. Beside the infantry sat Lindar Zanatei, ready to aid them when needed. One ryz, Jim rather thought it was Tarmsei’s, was congregated at the infantry’s vulnerable right wing and another at its left. Arthur Knott’s arrow contraps were stationed behind them, in the middle of the reserves. There were not enough of them to cover the whole front and the right and left wings of the army had been allocated less than the centre.

  The Larg vanguard reached the bottom of the incline. They looked particularly menacing in the morning light. The uncanniest aspect of their advance was that it was absolutely silent. There were none of the shouted orders that a human army would make as the ranks jostled for position. Jim loosened his sword from its scabbard clips and turned toward Larya.

  As he did so he felt rather than heard a subliminal growl from left, right and behind him and felt the hairs at the back of his neck respond. The sound at last grew audible until the human contingent felt that the entire hillside was growling as the Lind reacted to the advance of their ancient enemy. The Larg responded. There were no battle howls yet, only the menacing hum.

  : Time? : Jim asked Larya.

  : Absolutely : she agreed, leaning her head towards him, inviting a caress.

  Leaning against her, Jim obliged, taking comfort from her closeness and the warm bulk of her body. He then busied himself making sure that her armour was fitting just so. His stomach clenched and unclenched.

  Larya sensed his disquiet.

  : I love you : These words Larya gently inserted into his mind. She turned her head slightly and looked into his eyes. : I am with you :

  Jim felt comforted. “I love you too,” he whispered. “Ready?”

  He felt her body trembling with adrenalin. He took a deep breath.

  There was a howl from the Larg lines.

  “Tell Kolyei that it is time. Warn the infantry.” To save confusion, all the general command battle orders were to be disseminated via Kolyei, Tara and the communications unit.

  He watched as Louis and Ustinya leant towards Robert Lutterell. This almost instantaneous communication between the battle sections was a godsend to any commanding officer.

  “Sir,” Louis shouted in ringing tones, “battle warning from the Susyc.”

  Robert nodded. “Form up on the tree line,” he ordered.

  The command rang out. The nervous men and women had been standing at ease waiting for this very order. They came to attention with a crump of booted feet.

  The Larg began to advance up the slope.

  “Battle Order One,” Jim commanded.

  He sensed Larya relaying his command to Kolyei, then as one, the Lindars rose up from their prone positions behind the trees and advanced to the ground right at the very top of the hill. There was the jingle of equipment and shouted orders as the infantry followed suit.

  “Shields,” shouted out Robert.

  The front rank lifted their shields into position. There was a thump of hardened leather against leather as the shield wall consolidated and then solidified.

  The second rank formed up behind and grounded their spears. They would be able to stab at their enemies through the shield wall, unconsciously copying the way the ancient Roman armies had conquered most of their known world. The warrant officers (six per rank, left wing, centre and right wing) began to walk slowly between them and the third rank, making final adjustments to stance and equipment and generally checking that all was in readiness. Jim could hear their low murmurs of encouragement.

  The Larg continued to advance.

  If they were surprised at the emergence of the human infantry on the skyline, they did not show it, or at least not by very much. There were a few startled yelps but that was all.

  The lead kohorts began to trot a little faster. They continued to increase their speed until the vanguard met the stakes. There were some pain-filled yelps of surprise and then the arrow salvoes arched high into the air above them and descended on the brown bodies of the Larg.

  Down at the settlement the lookouts watched the battle begin.

  “There are thousands of them!” gasped out Jean Farquharson. As a member of the Council, she deemed it her duty to station herself on the southern walls, where they expected the first assault to fall.

  Kath stood nearby, one hand placed on Matvei’s withers in a gesture of comfort. It was his Lindar up on the hills above. He, Matvei, had led the front ryz for many seasons. If he had not been ordered to this duty at the settlement he would have been leading his ryz into battle. He wondered how Tarmsei was coping. It was the youngster’s first taste of absolute command. Tarmsei, although an experienced fighter, was young for his post and it was Matvei himself who had recommended he replace him as commander of the ryz. It took a lot of courage and level-headedness to control a ryz in battle. Afanasei, acceptin
g Matvei’s judgement, had promoted Tarmsei over the necks of other, older and more experienced warriors.

  “Don’t panic Jean,” said Kath bracingly. “There are thousands of Lind up there. In fact, I am more worried about our human foes who, if you have noticed, number around ten thousand and are heading straight for us. I don’t like the look of these catapult things they are pushing along either.”

  “What will they fire with them? Rocks? There are very few sizeable hunks of real estate out there.”

  “Not rocks I think,” answered Kath. “Remember the reports we got about when Fort was overrun?”

  “Do you think Stuart is right then and that they will use fire against us? We’ve coated the walls with that evil smelling gluey stuff.”

  “Yes, but all wood burns eventually and inside the walls all our buildings are made of wood and we haven’t coated all of them. There wasn’t enough. That’s why Stuart has ordered every able-bodied soul who can see light and hear thunder, and who is not manning the walls to fire duty. The fire-control parties have been filling every available bucket they can put their hands on with water for days now. Surely you saw them?”

  “Been in the medical centres helping out there,” was the laconic reply.

  “Mmmm,” said Kath. She hoped that she would not be an inmate in one of the centres before the day was out. Some of the medics on duty had received very sketchy training at best. She herself was better. But her duty station was on the walls, with Matvei, providing the vital communications link between the settlement and the field army.

  “Our troubles will start soon enough, their front regiments are almost within striking distance.”

  Murdoch’s men were getting alarmingly close. The battle for the settlement was about to begin.

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