“Dwarves, sire. A large enough army, though still a lot lesser in number than that of the High King,” said the Oracle. “I’d hazard around five thousand.”
Of course! The two dwarven lords who fought beside the Jarl! They also promised aid! realized the mage, relief flooding his mind, remembering the oaths of friendship given at the end of the Battle of Hedmark. Yet it wasn’t clear which dwarven lord sent the reinforcements, Dvalin or Otr? Despite the love-hate relationship between the two, he’d say the pair were now closer than brothers would ever be. Or acting exactly like brothers, smiled the mage. But given their struggles with Sutr’s forces, the mage surprised to see dwarves on the field.
Maybe the results of the Battle for Sterkstein’s Throat blocked most of the channels for invasion. Or the armies of Sutr are holding back, still licking their wounds, thought Tyler. Come to think of it, everything I have done had significant consequences. That only means a lot of things have not yet reared their heads. Shit. I hope they’re not all bad.
Tyler quickly reflected on what he didn’t know.
For one thing, I still don’t know what’s the status of the Dokkalfr-Ymir War. Or whether the boundaries of Skaney facing Ymir’s Domain are now quiet. Not to mention the squids and that bloodthirsty empire down south. Let’s not forget Loki’s wars. Hellish grocery list.
The skirmishes on the plain lessened and eventually ceased. Each army reformed their ranks as they waited for what the coming force would do. Tyler expected the dwarves to side with Jarl and believed the timing of their arrival was off. If they arrived while the main battle was being waged, the dwarves could have smashed a flank just as the enemy was fully committed to the attack. Such a blow from the side would have enabled the newcomers to roll up the High King’s army. The dwarves had halted where the riders reached them and took up position a mile to the rear of the schiltron, acting as if it merely consisted of armed observers or passersby to the coming battle. The flags showed the marks of the two dwarven houses. Both lords had sent contingents, though Tyler wasn’t sure if the princes were also present.
Bewildered as he was on what the dwarves were doing, the mage could see that the dwarves were already preparing their shield wall formation. Their ballistae appeared to be undeployed, although crews remained with the heavy weapons. Tyler was now thoroughly confused, his sense of relief starting to dissipate.. He again turned to the Oracle.
“I am totally at a loss, trying to understand what’s happening. Any ideas?” he asked Thyma.
“From what I know, the dwarven clans rarely involve themselves in wars between humans. An ancient rule, from what I learned. The only exceptions would be a command by their deities, which could only be the Vanir siblings, or a matter of great honor. Even exercise of the latter is governed by certain norms,” replied Thyma.
“That still doesn’t answer my question. The dwarves are here with an army, but they didn’t side with the jarls. So, what are they doing on the battlefield?” came Tyler’s exasperated retort.
“This is but speculation, sire, based on the little I know. But I believe they would involve themselves if the person owed the honor is in clear danger. Looks and sounds unbelievable, but that’s ancient dwarven custom at work,” she explained.
“They’ll wait until defeat is obvious?” exclaimed the mage, quickly restraining the explosion of expletives demanding to be released.
“Something like that. Right now, the battle has not been joined, the result uncertain. We do have to remember that the mere fact that a dwarven host is on a human battlefield is unusual enough. Extremely rare, but not an unprecedented situation. Their tendency to be neutral in political conflicts due to trade considerations is well-known, so I am not surprised that their behavior would seem odd to us,” clarified the Oracle.
Tyler glanced at the listening Se-Osiris and found the spirit nodding at what the Oracle was saying. Seeing the young mage looking at him, the ghost gave an embarrassed smile and looked away. The mage turned his attention back to Thyma.
“Reminds me of bureaucracy at work,” said Tyler slowly, shaking his head.
“Exactly,” confirmed Thyma.
***
The High King’s riders had returned to their host and Tyler could see them reporting to a large group at the rear surrounded by banners. After a few minutes, horsemen rushed out and went to the various waiting companies.
“It won’t be long now,” the mage heard Se-Osiris mutter needlessly. He glanced at the dwarves. The arrivals had reformed their ranks into two columns, shields positioned at the side of the new configurations. A small group remained with their ballistae. Tyler still couldn’t make sense of what the dwarves were planning. Kobu probably could, but he wasn’t around.
The army of the High King started to march forward slowly, preceded by a heavy barrage of magical spells. A violent blizzard of colored sparks erupted above the defending ranks. It appeared that the schiltron focused on protective spells as Tyler didn’t observe retaliatory attacks. Given the grossly unbalanced weight of forces, the mage thought it was a wise move. Mages had a limited supply of innate magical energy and the attackers would also be sheltered by their own magical barriers. To commit to an exchange of magical attacks would be foolhardy for the defense.
The two armies were now roughly a couple of miles apart, and the assaulting host moved deliberately, keeping their ranks tight. However, their cavalry had halted once they reached flanking positions right along the axis of the armored circle. The tiny contingent of defending horsemen raced out of the field and repositioned itself near the dwarves. Tyler saw that the enemy retained a substantial number of warriors near the High King. Even as reserves, they outnumbered the jarls’ forces.
Keeping out of arrow range, the mounted warriors dressed their ranks and turned to face the defending army. It was apparent that the makeshift barricades had given them pause. Still, once the accompanying infantry had caused a crack in the shield wall, the mage expected the mass of horsemen to smash through the long line made of metal and flesh. The other flanking formation would follow suit when the initial cavalry charge had sown confusion and death. Disorganized infantry simply had no chance against the deadly combination of horses and armed riders. As the High King’s forces drew near, Tyler couldn’t see how it planned to break the waiting shield wall. The barricades, though shallow in depth, would result in broken assaulting formations vulnerable to spells, archers, and spears. Even their numbers would work against them. The schiltron presented a narrow frontage. No matter how outnumbered the defenders were, it would still be a one-to-one struggle at the point of contact.
“I assumed your man is now in command?” asked Se-Osiris suddenly.
“I guess so. Why?” inquired Tyler.
“I’ve seen a number of battles during my time, learned some tricks, and ran from a few. But that was during my younger days. The fleeing, I mean. Skaney’s kind of warfare is usually skirmish or siege-based. Raiding and harassment for the most part. Unlike Kemet, these warriors of the north usually don’t have the opportunity to engage in open, set-piece battles. By this time, I would have expected to see arrows and spells in the air from the defending side,” observed the ghost of a mage. “I see none, so I guess there’s a different kind of brain orchestrating things.”
“He’s the exile. A warlord from the land of Wa,” replied the young man.
“No wonder. People from that land study war with the same dedication they give to learning their letters. Observe. Your companion is waiting for the enemy to fully commit to the attack before executing any countermove. It takes discipline and a keen sense of observation to take advantage of such a method,” lectured the apparition sagely.
“And you mean what?” asked Tyler. The finer details of archaic military tactics, except what movies and cursory reading had taught him, had always been one of his weak points. He had the exile for that requirement, that gap in his knowledge. Among the companions, only Kobu had that rare competence. To his mind, ev
en Tyndur wouldn’t be a good field commander. The einherjar had a similar crush-and-smash attitude as Asag. The deceased Jorund had the expertise and experience, but Kobu brought a whole new level to the deadly game.
“To see the weak points of the coming assault, of course, and then break the spear that’s reaching for one’s throat. It’s quite difficult for an attacker to change tactics once the forces have been fully engaged and battle joined. In that brief moment, the advantage is with the defender provided the waiting defense weathered the initial storm,” continued Se-Osiris.
***
Arrows now rained down on the schiltron and were deflected by magical barriers. Tyler thought that by now, the jarl’s mages must be exhausted. The sheer volume of magical offensive spells alone must have placed enormous strain on the defensive shields. He hoped Asag could contribute to such protection, yet he doubted it. The demon mainly preferred offense. It’s a fundamental dictum – a good defense being a good offense – but when you’re greatly outnumbered, one must rethink that idea. Especially when there are two large assemblies of armored horsemen just waiting to charge and crush your marching foot soldiers.
Suddenly, a great, thundering roar from thousands of shouting warriors exploded throughout the Sigtuna plain. Enemy infantry was now rushing the waiting shield wall, though their companies kept their formations tightly packed. As they got near, their front ranks abruptly split open and groups of warriors ran out. Covered by shieldbearers, each small company had, at its core, a handful of men carrying long, wide wooden planks. These were quickly placed on top of the barricades. Then men from the following formations swiftly ran up and jumped into the waiting circle. Many were able to land inside the armored ring. Furious fights erupted.
Some of the attackers were picked off by hasty spells and arrows from the surprised defenders. Still, apparently, the tactic was an unexpected one. The war chief of the High King knew what he was doing. The barricades posed a dangerous obstacle to cavalry, but its slight depth allowed the attackers to use makeshift boards to insert their men inside the schiltron. And Tyler knew exactly what kind of warriors would be utilized for such an attempt – only bersekrs would do. Elite fighting men, probably pumped up with hallucinogenic mushrooms or whatever the King’s mages were using. Chaos ensued inside the defensive ring.
The massed infantry following behind the shock assault quickly crashed into expectant shields, taking advantage of the confusion. The mage could see the flashing shafts of Habrok. However, it was quite impossible to find the trio in the moving, chaotic mass of warriors. Tyler found himself gripping the ground, tearing through the thick grass. All he felt was a terrible fear. He barely registered the fact that he had held his breath to the point of choking. The mage didn’t even sense Eira’s healing spell as she took care of Tyler’s bloody fingers.
The green and yellow of the plain in the distance took on a tinge of red.
Chapter Thirteen
Sigtuna Plain
The lack of an immediate riposte from the defenders made Tyler suspect that the exile was caught off-balance by the unorthodox shock tactic. He had to admit it was effective, not as a way of directly breaking the shield wall, but as a dangerous diversion. It was difficult for a warrior at the front to focus on the incoming enemy when there’s vicious fighting at one’s back. As those in the schiltron finally reacted to the stratagem, fewer bersekrs were able to get inside the defensive circle. Boards were set on fire, broken, or thrown to the side. But the attack was already in full swing. The entire metal wall was engulfed by a mass of warriors, all trying to break the interlocking shields.
It was a muddled melee of men trying to push each other back, interspersed with the flash of a spear or a great blade that occasionally drew blood. The attackers had a disadvantage in such a struggle. Wounded defenders were dragged back and replaced by waiting warriors. For their opponents, no such luxury was available. Whoever fell down from wounds inflicted by weapon strikes or the steel-tipped arrows was immediately trampled by the feet of their fellows.
The ground became wet with blood and gore. On the hillside, the tension was becoming unbearable. Barely a few minutes had passed and the scene before them had become incredibly horrific. The din from thousands of warriors all trying to kill each other couldn’t compare to the dreadful sight of mashed, unrecognizable bodies on the ground. A few attackers were already visibly slipping on the gory mess. Tyler had previously been part of the audience to such a killing field. But Asag’s murderous spree against the dokkalfr was observed by the company from afar. This time, they were close enough to watch limbs and heads being horrifically lopped off.
But the mage could see that the sheer weight of the attack was compressing the schiltron. A second layer had formed around the defenders, not yet committed to the attack but waiting for their turn. They would be a fresh batch of attackers for the tired defenders. The mage knew that even with the rotation of men the defenders had adopted, there was a limit on what they could take. The bowmen would eventually run out of arrows and the mages would eventually exhaust their magical reserves.
Tyler glanced at his watching companions. Of the four, only Eira had a shocked, horrified fascination on her face. The rest had stoic expressions that the mage attributed to their experience with humanity’s moronic obsession with war. He didn’t doubt that the three had seen worse scenes. Still, the feeling of helplessness rose in him again. It was different when one was in the middle of all that deafening, murderous pandemonium. Being a helpless witness while your friends fight for their lives was incredibly depressing.
Suddenly, a series of sharp, loud cracks caught Tyler’s attention. Numerous fissures had opened in the ground outside the schiltron and swallowed clumps of attackers. Then a series of random stone spikes burst out of the soil, bloodily impaling warriors. Bewildered alarm and fear could be seen spreading among the pressed ranks of the besiegers. Asag had begun his entertainment.
***
A few moments after, clusters of panicked warriors formed in the rear of the assaulting mass. Tyler quickly examined the disturbances and found the demon’s stone creations in the middle of each chaotic whirlpool. Surprisingly, the mage could only count six such messy uproars. The stone humanoids were barely taller than a warrior though they had extremely stocky bodies. This time, Asag decorated them with protruding spikes.
Nasty. But Kobu must have told the rock deity to tone down the number of golems he should manifest, thought Tyler. I guess six would be the mileage of a first-rate mortal mage.
“Six? I thought that fellow would create about ten,” commented Se-Osiris suddenly.
“Why ten?” asked the mortal. Fellow?
“One for each finger, of course. The more skilled among mages could manifest a maximum of ten. Whether they’re made of rock, fire, clay, or whatnot, such shapes are but an extension of the creator’s will. The easiest way to control them is to treat them as an extension of one’s hands,” replied the apparition. “Don’t ask me about toes. I haven’t seen anybody able to make use of them in that particular spell. But those spikes are a nice touch.”
After the spells of Asag, pressure on the schiltron palpably eased as the attackers tried to find their way past the crevices and spikes, though many were already engaged in fighting the stone golems. Tyler could see several of the King’s mages rushing forward. With the mass of warriors in front, they couldn’t see where to direct whatever spell they wanted to use. Then a cloud of boulders erupted from the earth and rained down on the reinforcing mages. Their magical barriers would have protected them except stone spikes and the now-familiar ground fissures accompanied the deluge of deadly rocks.
“For a demon-deity, he’s quite intelligent enough,” came Se-Osiris’s remark. “That combination was spectacular.”
“I guess you knew,” said Tyler wryly.
“Of course, I was told to expect his presence. Otherwise, I would have engaged him immediately when I arrived. Such infernal beings were a bane during my
time. Every damned creature and its family apparently wanted to come over for a spell,” grinned the ghost. “I believe they’re not that common now, but you have these crazy rogue deities instead. Demons, I could handle. Mad demonic deities are a bit out of my league.”
On the field, the extent of the earthen disturbances speedily expanded and started to lay waste to the cavalry and the waiting second line of warriors. The blizzard of rocks which squashed the mages now also showered the ranks of the reserves. Tyler could see the large tent in the middle of the protective array smashed by Asag’s solid rain. Then the spikes and quakes reached the High King’s position.
Clouds of dust covered the battlefield, making it impossible to see anything clearly. Only glimpses of the apocalyptic chaos showed themselves from time to time. But the mage could see that the schiltron remained where it was, letting the mayhem play itself out. Tyler glanced at the waiting ranks of the dwarves. That part of the plain was still visible and he wondered what they would make of the muddled scene before them.
The Accidental Archmage: Book Eight (Where Titans Walk) Page 15