He's herding them like sheep.
Kellick had seen dogs do the same thing in pasture lands where he grew up as a boy, circling around, pushing stragglers forward and the over excited back into their huddle. The warband had stopped, beginning to group tighter together defensively. They had no idea where the next attack would come from, but the smarter among them had noticed that the centre seemed to be safest.
The second warband had slowed too, officers perhaps torn between helping their companions in the plain or continuing their march on the eastern wall. The closest band marching in front of Kellick could see none of this, minutes away from reaching the South wall.
"Archers ready!"
Kellick saw another flash in the sky above the terrorized warband and thought for a moment he might have seen the monk appear. Azon had indeed jumped above the massed men holding glass grenades in each hand, throwing them down into the middle before disappearing again. As each firebomb exploded he jumped to the north, throwing another two gas grenades and a final smoke bomb blocking the route around the city.
Both warbands shattered, though those closest to the Northern battlement were largely unhurt. Kellick watched the less fortunate trapped in the fire concluding that almost all of them had died instantly. Panic swept the field to Kellick’s left as thousands of the Shaa’s men routed. Riders attempted to whip and corral them back, but this time it was too late. They had scattered. Unable to force them back, they started killing their own.
The eastern killing field was in chaos, thousands of men running in every direction except north, where a toxic gas cloud hung low in the air as it slowly expanded.
Wonderful man.
Azon appeared near Kellick falling to his knees, covered in a mix of soot and blood, coughing uncontrollably.
"Too much smoke?"
"That gas." he coughed again, "it's awful."
"It's saved us Azon. For now, anyway."
"I can't jump much more Captain, I’ve not got much left"
"You have done enough. Rest, we'll need some more of it soon enough."
"Fire!" Kellick heard an officer shout to the waiting archers, who unleashed their first volley on the attackers running into range below. The crack and hum of thousands of bows filled the sky with black missiles. He watched them arc up before plummeting back down on top of the horde.
"Get off the wall Azon."
"Yes, sir"
“Monk did well.” Rill said.
"Aye, I’d buy him an ale if he hadn’t sent most of them towards us."
“That was Kellick’s plan.”
“I’ll never buy that bastard a drink.” Canno said watching fanatics in the distance reluctantly start to recover and regroup. The Shaa’s riders had outpaced most of the routing men before turning back and killing anyone fleeing the battle. About a quarter had made it past them, east into the desert and the Shaa had sent more camel riders in pursuit. A third or so lay dead on the field, the fire burning around their bodies adding its own hue to the smoke hanging in the air above the killing ground. The rest, reluctantly joined the warband assaulting Rill and Canno’s wall.
"Just focus on the man in front." Rill shouted, raising his voice for everyone under his charge to hear. "Pikes and spears, make way for the archers and anyone with grappling poles. Hoist up as many of the ladders as you can or just try and smash them. When they do get up here, relieve them. Bowmen, get on the towers, but don't get trapped if we have to retreat. And we retreat south if we have to, but not until I give the orders. Any questions?" There were none. No one had even looked at Rill, frightened eyes locked as they were, on the countless men below racing to kill them.
The archers had gotten off around seven volleys before the first few huge bone ladders rapped and scuffed on the walls. They continued to fire their bows down into the packed ranks or targeting anyone climbing up the ladders. The citizens were using the long, hooked poles Kellick had ordered manufactured to grab and yank ladders out of the fanatic’s hands, up onto the battlement to be carried away.
As quickly as they were pushed or pulled away, more ladders struck the battlement in their place, only this time held more tightly. Once the weight of four or five of the admittedly scrawny fanatics loaded the ladder down, they were too heavy to lift. The citizens started working in pairs to flip the ladders letting men fall back on top of the waiting, tightly packed ranks waiting to ascend below. More ladders came and the citizens, not lacking in enthusiasm, started to become overwhelmed. They had killed scores, but heads and hands were appearing quicker over the wall’s edge than the town folk could chop down upon and Rill decided that it was now time to send in the real steel.
"Fall back!" he called to his makeshift army. "Pikes and swords! Get stuck in!" The few experienced soldiers Rill had positioned with the citizens kept lashing out to anyone getting high enough to leap over the parapet. The rest of the swords joined them, striking mercilessly at the unarmoured heads, while pikes flashed out at climbing bodies.
Rill struck one man with his short sword, before stealing a glance over the wall to see another man on an adjacent ladder. He leaned over the parapet quickly reversing his grip on the blade, hammering it deep into the fanatic’s skull. The blade caught in the bone for a moment and as the dead man fell from the ladders, Rill's sword was almost wrenched from his hand. He stepped back to recover his composure, watching Canno and then every soldier on the line stabbing and cutting in a similar fashion.
The pikes are efficient too.
The Republican Pikes were working in small teams, establishing something of a rhythm in their action. As a man jumped over the edge two or three would lift him up with their spears, throwing the wild-eyed man back out. Others found individual attackers, surrounding them before easily cutting them down. Anything coming up the ladders were being pushed back and the Shaa’s attack seemed to begin to lose its momentum as the number of ladders being Withd slowed.
Not slowing… Widening. Rill suddenly realised stealing a glance over the edge. They’re trying to outflank us. Kellick needs to send the men in the north back here.
He saw a couple of city boys that had been helping with the grappling poles. "You two, run to the north gate, find an officer and tell him to send everything but the minimum he needs to watch out for a threat there. Not defend a threat mind. Just observation. Everyone else needs to get back here and stop us from getting too thin."
"We can do that, er sir." The lad said a little uncertainly looking at his friend.
"Will they listen to us though?" The other asked.
"Aye, say Captain Kellick sent you."
"Okay but I thought the Captain was..."
"Too late for who's who lad, just say the words. If one of you gets hit with sling shot or something, get the damned message delivered first and then come back to help the other out. Understood?"
The two nodded, serious expressions on their young brows.
"Good, run."
And just as the boys scampered away, Rill was violently knocked to the side, hearing a loud clunk ring from his helmet and a dizziness overcome him. He tentatively touched the area with his fingers feeling the dent. Crouching to avoid any more strikes he moved to the edge and sat below the parapet, before taking off his helmet to examine it.
Sling shot.
More of the tiny projectiles started whooshing overhead. Countless pebbles and iron balls pummelled the battlement and roof tops, beating the surfaces with a tempo of tropical rainfall. Rill looked down the wall and saw the city had taken its first casualties. A few men lay still on the ground and another closer to him was stumbling around trying to put his smashed jaw back into place before feinting. Almost everyone was taking cover but a few tested their luck still, stealing glances through the crenels.
"Get down, idiots!" He shouted.
Damn that’s what he wants isn’t it. Must be killing more of his own though.
"Pikes, gather together. Get behind a shield wall."
The pike started f
orming groups, rushing about with their heads ducked, shields raised in cover.
"Don't stand near the ledge until they stop firing. Kill anyone who makes it over."
Not many did. As the hail of stones slowed, Rill chanced a quick look and saw that the Shaa's slingers were not very accurate. They had killed far more of their own, wiping the highest point of the wall clean. He couldn't tell how many were dead, their bodies had now disappeared underneath the feet of the horde awaiting more ladders being pushed to the front for a second assault up the wall.
They came harder this time. Rill, like everyone else around him, slashed and thrust, but they poured over relentlessly still. Wherever he looked, he saw men locked in a struggle for survival. Fear had been Withd in their eyes with a mix of exhaustion and fury as each fought their own personal war, stabbing and slashing wildly, desperately trying to not be overwhelmed.
They have too many ladders.
While the pikes dealt with one group, more jumped over the fortifications behind them. The fanatics had started to fight more defensively, waiting for others to join them.
They have too many men.
"Citizens, engage! Fill the gaps, get in the sides with knives. Pikes! Focus on the ladders. Archers! Stop shooting them down there, target the one's up here. We have to contain them here!" Rill ordered at the top of his voice.
"Rally together men! On my call, we charge."
The heavily armed pikes and swords rushed the now quickly forming groups of fanatics hiding behind homemade shields, growling at the Carrid forces. Arrows flew into them, pinning arms to hide and wood, striking legs shoulders and faces. The citizens attacked anyone reinforcing between them and those with hooks helped the pikes rip as many ladders off the wall.
They can't gain the initiative. We can hold.
"We've got this Canno." Rill said, pulling his blade back through someone’s throat, lunging again to steals his friend’s own kill.
"They have no armour, hardly a sword among them." Canno replied, blocking a fanatics club swing with his left gauntlet and then smashing into him with his plated shoulder armour and killing him on the floor.
"They have knights. Can't see any here though."
"Good, we can keep this up all day." Canno said with apparent satisfaction. Before Rill could make his reply about his friend’s sudden change in attitude, a massive explosion rocked the city from south. White smoke and dust blocked the view and everyone, friend and foe alike, stopped for the briefest of moment to look towards the sound. Then as quickly as they had paused, the reality of their situation came back into focus, and the chaos and killing returned once more.
"Why? Too damned early what's he thinking." Canno said feinting towards a bearded man with iron axe before pulling back to strike at a smaller man who had got too close on his right.
"I don't know." Rill said as he kicked a fanatic away from him so hard the man flipped back over the parapet screaming all the way down.
"See, Kellick ain't all that, he's got flustered and blew the whole thing. Literally and..."
"We don't know that, could be the mages. Could be they were overwhelmed. There's more of them there."
"They're about to get even more." Canno said pointing down.
Rill peered through the crenel down to the killing field. The war band below had completely abandoned the ladders, rushing at full speed towards south gate. The dead were finally visible. They covered the ground all the way down the side of the city, piling higher each step closer to the masonry. Rill judged that there were more dead bodies down there than he had seen in any other battle in his career.
And this has barely started.
"Breach!!! To the south!"
"Canno, get word to the officers up there. We need to reinforce Kellick. Split up. I'll take the roads, you bring them over the wall. The covers need to come off Kellick's traps."
"We won’t be able to get back ourselves if they try again here"
Rill looked at the horde running in the distance.
"They won't."
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Narubez
"Yarrian, join us." The Emperor said seeing the man appear with a Palace guard at the door. The spy approached, remembering it was this evening each week that Galtus played Lenso, a strategic board game with D’vidius. Yarrian knew him quite well, cycles ago conducting extremely thorough background checks on the man once he had started appearing at court. A young and favoured treasury official, who was widely regarded as the best player in the Empire.
"I've almost beat him, Yarrian. And fairly sure this time that he isn't making it easy for me." Galtus said. The spy was not relieved to see him in a rare and remarkably good mood. D’vidius pulled a chair out from beside him, offering it to Yarrian.
"D’vidius forgive me, could you give me a moment to talk to the Emperor alone please." He asked with a respectful and apologetic tone.
"Of course, Yarrian." Pushing himself out of the seat to stand and nod at Galtus. "You did have me beat, Imperator".
"Yes, why did you move that dragon forward. It was early in the game and I still had my reserves?"
"I was overconfident, Emperor."
No truer words had ever been spoken. The significance of which was missed for now by Galtus and instead the Emperor held back a twinge of annoyance at the statements blunt implication.
It was a great privilege D’vidius knew, to play with the Emperor and the two had become close friends over the cycles, not simply for the fact he was the only one able to outwit him on the board.
Or dared to, at least.
D’vidius also had an eminently dry sense of humour that put Galtus at ease. It reminded the Emperor of his youth, a world free of pretension. Friends speaking freely among one another. He felt deeply comfortable around the young courtier, often wondering why others close to him could never surmount their acute fear of him to engage in ordinary conversation. Despite this, the man had not forgotten his place in the scheme of things. A foot outside of the empire's tightly controlled dominance hierachy, yes. However, from the look on Yarrian's face right now, the smart play was to get as far away from the Palace and the Emperor as he possibly could.
"I have bad news, Imperator" D’vidius heard as he rounded the corner quickly, descending the stairs.
"As always." the Emperor sighed, looking at the board. "So close, Yarrian. See?"
"Mate in three." The spy observed.
"Yes. It would have been." He said pouring himself another glass of brandy from a beautifully cut crystal bottle. "I can consider that a win I think. Want one?"
"No thank you, sir."
"Sit then." Waving at the two chairs. Yarrian took the seat D’vidius had pulled out for him. "What is it Yarrian?"
"Dokra was ambushed by Citalley."
"And?" The Emperor said with a mix of mild concern and curiosity. He had sent Dokra with so many men, the possibility of any real damage done in a single engagement seemed too remote to consider. The man annoyed him to no end, but the career soldier's experience and expertise in warfare was not in doubt.
"This just arrived." He said handing the small metal tube that had been removed from a messenger bird’s foot. The Emperor flipped the lid, pulling out the small piece of rolled up parchment, then reached under his desk for the codebook.
"I have a decrypted copy."
"Hand me this first please, Yarrian." Waving the sheet he could actually read.
"Yes, sir" The man flushed, adding embarrassment to anxiety. He watched the Emperor read the short message. Over and over again, each time growing paler. The spy recognised the look, a very unusual breaking of composure. The Emperor was, the spy knew, minutes away from exploding in rage.
Ambushed in the Arul Forest. Drakes escaped. Full retreat back to Cotsdam. Heavy weapons destroyed. Horses gone. Force strength on the western front halved.
"I want to see Dokra."
"Yes, Emperor. Though, that will delay any progress in the campaign, sir. And when the sno
w falls next moon, those forests will become impassable. Citalley will have the whole winter to ready a defence of the west."
"I want Dokra here!" He shouted, banging the arm of his chair so hard the shockwaves travelled up the gaming table, making the pieces vibrate on the walnut board.
"I will bring him back with haste, Imperator."
"And the drakes. So they are just what… just gone? The old fool can't get them back?"
Yarrian did not reply to this, knowing it to be a vent rather than a question.
"I want them back, Yarrian. I want them back now!"
"Other reports have come through too, sir. Citalley's attack was well executed, but it delivered little damage to the legionaries and lancers on the whole. Their bows are not powerful enough to penetrate the thicker pieces of plate armour, though a great many..." Yarrian paused, perusing his own set of mostly unread reports. Raising his brow he continued, "...were injured in the legs."
"So what in the hell’s depth did happen then!?"
"Citalley smashed barrels of oil or some such down on them. One presumably must have hit the wagons that the drakes were being carried in."
"They were in iron cages, Yarrian. The warlocks assured us it was sufficient enough to hold them."
"They said as long as they stayed out of the light if I recall correctly. Two reports in my possession say they melted the bars with the first blast of drake fire. Another said a cage was ripped apart with a snap of one of the beast’s jaws. Had the army marched in the open plain and not been able to flee through the forest, I believe we would have lost them all."
"What are you saying?"
"We can't get them back."
Galtus paused, fists clenched, eyes locked on the gaming table. "Very well. We have others. They said we can breed the beasts."
"That is my fear, Emperor. Dokra had five females and four males. They will breed."
"And if that happens?"
"I don't know." The palpable worry on the man's face did not escape Galtus’ notice. "Which is what worries me. I believe we have to deal with a new military reality now. Both Danor heirs are alive. Half the country is still in kingdom hands and will remain so until Spring's thaw at the very least. Carrid's position has not been decided and between the two forces we have nine, soon to be more, drakes capable of taking out any army we send at them".
The Ravens of Carrid Tower Page 27