A Warrior's Redemption
Page 59
Chapter Nineteen
According to Plan
The Zoarinian Camp on the highland outskirts of Kingdom Pass the next morning.
General Tessan stood looking out over the multitude of tents of the army he alone had been tasked to lead. It was the largest military force ever congregated together under one banner, even after they had lost so many in the fires and subtle chicanery of taking Kingdom Pass. They really hadn’t taken the city behind the great wall. It had been given to them and they had paid for it in blood.
Over two hundred thousand men missing from the sea of tents before him bore testament to the price that they had paid to set foot on Valley Lander soil the night before. That wouldn’t have been so bad if the enemy’s losses had been high too, but they hadn’t. The assault last night had been a colossal error and now the whole army’s morale was in question. Their spirit of optimism as to an easy campaign was shattered.
The Valley Lander army was gone and still intact and able to continue the fight, while they should have been slain to a man within the confines of Kingdom Pass. If they had only held off on the attack! He would not underestimate them again. The sounds of his aides and subordinate field commanders arguing behind him began to register in his consciousness disrupting the clarity of his thoughts.
“Enough! Stop this senseless chatter!”
Those gathered within the tent fell silent at the general’s sudden outburst of anger.
“I listen to you and all I hear is whining and excuses, that what has befallen us was an unavoidable occurrence. What utter ridiculousness! We were beaten clear and simple! Manipulated masterfully to commit ourselves onward onto our own swords as it were. There’s no going back! What’s been done is done. We need to move forward and accomplish our primary mission’s objective. Our force is still strong and more formidable than anything the enemy can throw at us. Prepare the army. We march for the Shrine at once!”
A longtime experienced field commander spoke up hesitantly, “But what about the cities, Sir? We’re not just going to leave them, are we? This is the best opportunity we’ve ever had to crush the enemy once and for all!”
General Tessan didn’t look unfazed for a moment at having his orders questioned, “Our primary objective is to secure the ships at the shrine. Once we have them secure we can return our attention to the systematic annihilation of the Valley Lander people. We need a quick victory to restore our men’s moral and capturing the shrine does that, as well as securing our primary mission’s objective. Should we be surprised further by our wily foe, we will at least have that accomplished. We will leave a discretionary force of eighty thousand men to keep the Valley Landers bottled up within their nearest city, which will secure our open supply line with the homeland through the pass, should we need it. Our navy along the coast will offload what supplies we may need as well. The Valley Landers will not want to leave either their families or their city fortresses unguarded with such a strong army nearby and we will have a clear path to the Shrine. Starting today we will take the rest of our force and march directly inland to the Shrine. You have your orders, now go and see that my army is on the march within two hours or heads will roll!”
General Tessan watched them go, knowing that in their hearts they questioned his choice of strategy. They still saw the army as unstoppable. Why not destroy the enemy as they found them instead of bypassing them for a soft target like the Shrine? As for him, he no longer thought their army unstoppable.
One quarter of his army lay dead with probably less than ten thousand of the enemy slain. If the enemy could keep that odds differential up, this invasion of the Valley Lands was doomed. If they were able to seize the Shrine and the prize it held, then perhaps they could break the enemy’s spirit to fight.
He had thought breaking their great wall would do that, but he had been wrong. The loss of their great wall had inspired them instead.
The third morning of the invasion. In the camp of the rearguard army of eighty thousand men assigned to keep the Valley Landers held up within their cities, while the main body of the invading army marched for the Shrine of Remembrance.
It was barely past the brink of dawn when Commander Orlanthis was jarred awake by one of his aides, “Sir, the enemy has left the city sometime during the night and is advancing on our position!”
Commander Orlanthis leaped off his cot and ran outside, only half dressed. His aide had been right; the enemy was clearly visible as they marched in formation away from the protection of their walls, directly at them.
“Sound general assembly on the double!” Wheeling to face the aide he barked out, “Why have they now just been noticed? Where are our sentries?”
The stammering aide could only shake his head, as horns rang throughout the camp calling for the assembly of the army. A scout the aide had dispatched but minutes before drew up his excited mount before the commander’s tent.
“What do you have to report, soldier?” The commander barked out as he stared up at the rider.
“A large force sir! I make it an easy fifty thousand sir! There appears to be no cavalry support and from the general make up and disorderly form of their force it appears to be comprised of nothing but militia, sir!”
“Militia? They send militia out against us!”
“Yes sir! Older men and farm boys is all I saw!” responded the scout emphatically.
Commander Orlanthis smacked his hands together excitedly. The gods must be smiling down upon him this day! This was a chance to redeem himself in the eyes of his overlords. Not to mention the revenge that would be theirs as well! His eighty thousand men were all that remained of the initial strike force that had been deployed against Kingdom Pass.
These old men and farm boys would fall before their superior numbers and experienced soldiers like flies. This was just the opportunity he had needed to redeem himself. He had barely escaped Kingdom Pass with his head after the great loss of troops his contingent had suffered. Within a half hour his force was gathered in readiness for battle.
Their battle line was more disorganized than he would have liked, but it would do and besides they had almost twice as many men as the enemy. They were almost within range and as he sat astride his mount he raised his sword in preparation to signal the first volley of arrows to be released into the fast approaching militia.
An aide pulled his horse up abruptly beside his, “Sir!”
“What?” The militia were within range. “Archers at the ready!” Commander Orlanthis bellowed out, ignoring the aide.
The enemy militia suddenly stopped and issued forth a war cry before breaking into a run towards them wielding a wide assortment of weapons. The brave fools, what did they hope to gain by so impetuous a charge?
“Sir!”
“Confound it all man, what is it?” Commander Orlanthis half screamed as he turned towards the aide. In his anger he prepared to cut him down with his sword.
The aide was shaking like a leaf and as pale as milk as he pointed down the valley behind them. Before Commander Orlanthis could turn to look at what the aide was pointing at he heard it.
He froze up inside at the sounds of the horns within the veiled morning mists, still hanging low in the valley behind them. Over the blare of the horns he could hear the roar of cavalry at full charge echoing up the valley towards them. Reluctantly he half turned in the saddle to witness his fate.
The gods were not with him, if there be any gods at all, he thought to himself, abstractly. Charging out of the morning mists like a monster from some forgotten fairytale came a solid line of cavalry, several rows deep and as wide as Commander Orlanthis’s entire command.
Their lances were lowered as they thundered over the ground, churning it up. The release of arrows that had been intended for the militia army from the city hadn’t happened, because when the horns had sounded out from behind the army the army had turned almost as one, with dread filled eyes, to behold what new torment the fateful horns had
heralded.
The army twisted about like a wounded animal between two predators, not sure which would strike first. As a result it wasn’t prepared when both opposing forces crashed into it. It was clear that Commander Orlanthis had underestimated the militia too.
Older men retired from the ways of war, but fired up by adrenaline and the righteous cause for survival, sliced into the less experienced Zoarinian ranks, as if they were once again hardy warriors of thirty five and not seventy and older. The rust fell from their old but sure blades as talents, won over a lifetime of war, came back to them, as if greeting an old friend long unseen.
Farm boys of fourteen and sixteen, made strong by hard work and a proud heritage to uphold, smashed away at the enemy soldiers, as if they were but ripe sheaves of corn ready to fall under the swings of their scythes.
Moments after the militia hit the enemy line, the full column of charging cavalry under General Nadero’s command, smashed into the enemy’s rear. There was an almost visible shockwave across the enemy formation as it absorbed the impact of the charging cavalry. Completely unhinged from their defeat at Kingdom Pass and this new brutal twist in their sad tale of invasion, the enemy broke and ran screaming for their lives, too hysterical in their terror to even defend themselves.
It was a slaughter from which none were allowed to escape for fear that they would regroup with the main body of the army and inform them of the loss. Before even all the enemy had been mopped up, General Nadero separated out from the fight to gallop towards the city gates in the distance.
“Open the gates!”
The gates clanged open and out poured a collection of carts and wagons of every conceivable description. Some were pulled by teams of horses, others mules and even oxen, while spare teams were herded along by outriders.
Their drivers were old shop owners, widows and anyone who could hold a pair of reins and drive a team. In a frenzy of action, General Nadero issued orders to load the carts with the militia members still able and fit to fight. His actions were almost panicked as he was anxious to rendezvous with Roric’s forces on time.
By his calculations, he was already several hours behind that schedule. He had lost time, having to divert and travel out of the way of the Attorgron forces coming down from the north. The hastily put together misfit caravan groaned and creaked its way out of the valley in a flurry of its own dust as it was escorted by the cavalry northward towards the Shrine of Remembrance.