Fate of the Crown

by Paul J Bennett

  "I've been thinking about that," Gerald responded, "but we have no siege engines. It's a circular keep, quite well fortified from Revi's description. I daresay the Trolls could toss rocks at it all day to little effect. At least at Colbridge, the walls were in a state of disrepair. Here, the keep looks much more formidable."

  "So then, what's the alternative," Anna asked, "an assault?"

  "I'd like to think they'd surrender once the army is defeated, but I'm afraid it's going to have to be a frontal attack. Luckily, there's little in terms of outer defences, just a thick door to a very well built tower. We'll send the Trolls in with a battering ram."

  "And to protect them?"

  "We'll use the Dwarven arbalesters, they're heavily armoured and can pack a punch. Hopefully, they can provide enough covering fire. The main assault will be carried out by the heavy cavalry. We'll dismount them, and their job will be to take the keep once the main door falls."

  "You mean IF the door falls," the princess countered. "This could result in heavy casualties."

  "I know," the general replied, "but time is of the essence here. By now, Fitz should be at Tewsbury. We need to be marching north by the time he starts his withdrawal, or we won't be at the crossroads in time."

  "Couldn't we just bypass Redridge altogether?"

  "And leave an enemy army to our rear? No, we have to protect our supply lines. We must take Redridge."

  As they were talking, Arnim Caster rode up.

  "Ah, Arnim,” greeted Gerald, “just in time, we were just discussing the attack."

  "I take it you have orders for me, General?"

  "Yes, I want you to tie down the troops guarding the north end of the enemy line; they're dug in and well protected. Your job will be to keep them busy so they can't support the defence of their centre."

  "What troops will I have?"

  "I'll give you the Elven bow and the Weldwyn foot. If you see a chance to assault, take it, but we need to keep casualties to a minimum. We still have a long march and another battle to carry out. I'll leave the deployment of your men up to you, Commander."

  "Aye, General," confirmed the knight, then turned his horse about and rode off.

  "Who will command the centre?" asked Anna.

  "I'll take care of that myself," Gerald responded.

  "Is that wise? You're the general, we can't afford to lose you."

  "I have trusted commanders on both flanks, Anna. I need to be close to the lines to spot any opportunities to take advantage of."

  "You're thinking of Hayley's little escapade, aren't you?" she asked.

  "Yes, with a bit of luck it'll weaken their line."

  "And who will you be leading on this assault of yours?"

  "Orcs and Mercerians, mostly, though our Kurathians will be waiting to exploit an opportunity if we can punch through their lines. Their bowmen will also be supporting us during the initial advance. I want you back with the rest of the troops, in reserve. You'll have to decide whether or not to commit them. If the attack goes badly, you're to withdraw the army to Kingsford."

  "Understood," Anna replied. "How long till the battle commences?"

  "We've only just started moving into position. The battle likely won't begin until noon."

  "Plenty of time for Hayley," the princess mused.

  "We'll see,” said Gerald. “It's a long shot. I'm not counting on it."

  "Our ranger is a resourceful woman, she'll come through."

  "I hope you're right, Anna. We need to minimize our casualties as much as possible."

  * * *

  Hayley Chambers peered over the edge of the cliff. Below, she could see the open pit that was the iron mine.

  Kraloch crawled up beside her to add his eyes to the observation. "It doesn't look too bad," he speculated.

  "The trick will be to take out the guards quickly. If we can keep the element of surprise, we'll have them on the run."

  "Aren't you afraid that your escaped prisoners will get hurt? Surely you don't expect them to fight?"

  "No, I just want to create chaos behind enemy lines. I'm hoping that in the heat of battle, all they'll realize is that someone is behind them."

  "A wise plan. How do you want to start?"

  She used her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. "There's a man over there," she pointed. "We'll need him removed, but it'll be difficult to get to him."

  "I can take care of that," said the shaman. "I have a spell that will be particularly useful, I think."

  "I doubt a sleep spell will work from this range."

  "Not the spell I was thinking of," he defended.

  "I thought you were a Life Mage."

  "I am, what of it?"

  "What kind of healing would let you take out a guard?"

  "Life Mages are about more than just healing, Hayley Chambers. I shall call upon the spirits of our ancestors."

  "You can do that?"

  "Yes, that and so much more, but we have little time to discuss such matters. Revi's message indicated the battle would be starting soon. We must act before it's too late."

  "Very well," she said. "I'll take three of your hunters and move that way, off to the left. There's a track leading down into the pit. You take the remainder, eliminate that guard and then take that track to the right. With any luck, we'll meet in the middle."

  "Good hunting, Ranger," said Kraloch.

  "And to you," Hayley replied.

  She made her way to the left, soon finding the meandering path that led down toward the pit. The Orcs followed, their steps soundless despite the rocky terrain. She silently thanked Saxnor that she had learned a few Orc phrases as she moved downhill. They descended half the distance and then paused, for the guard they had seen earlier would have a clear view of the remaining path. Hayley peered around a rock to spot the sentry in the far distance.

  A tap on her shoulder drew her attention to look for Kraloch. She spotted him standing on the cliff, his hands raised in the air as an aura of magic enveloped him, and then a streak of light burst into the sky. A moment later, the same beam came down, landing beside the startled sentry.

  Hayley blinked in astonishment, for where the beam struck now stood an Orc, the likes of which she had never seen. He was tall, his broad shoulders armoured with chainmail, his head encased in an iron helm. He wielded two axes, which twirled in the air in perfect harmony as he stepped forward. There was no fight, not even an attempt at a defence as the sentry went down beneath the fury of the Orc champion.

  Hayley barked out a command, and her small party rushed down the path. If anyone in the pit had witnessed the attack, they gave no indication, for the mine workers had not paused, merely continued to shuffle back and forth pushing carts and barrels.

  They left the pathway to enter the pit itself. The mine had been worked for hundreds of years, and rows of steps had been carved into the side of the pit over all that time. She stopped at the first ledge and looked down, picking out the guards. Her Orc companions knelt, letting loose a volley as she swung her arm down. Two guards fell as the hunters quickly reloaded.

  An undulating cry rang out from the edge of the pit and Hayley risked a glance. Upon the outcropping, the strange armoured Orc yelled out a defiant call. She watched Kraloch, who once again was in the throes of casting, a shimmer in the air surrounding him, then strange, ghostly creatures began to manifest in the pit. She watched in amazement as they formed into Orc warriors. There were dozens of them, and they swarmed into the pit, their weapons seeking enemies.

  "Come on," she yelled, then repeated the command in Orcish. "Remember the plan!"

  Down she rushed, the Orcs in hot pursuit. The first group of startled prisoners lay just below her. She jumped off the ledge, dropping the six feet to the next level, landing next to a guard and quickly swung her bow, clipping him in the face, knocking him back. The startled man struck out with his whip, but Hayley was faster. She rolled out of the way, and then stood, dropping the bow and drawing her sword.


  She was about to strike out when an arrow took the man in the chest, and he fell over backwards, toppling down to the next level. Yelling erupted in the background, lower down in the pit, and she peered over to see the ghostly Orcs slashing their way through the enemy. She tore her gaze away, looking to the prisoners that stood before her in bewilderment.

  "Who are you?" asked an old man.

  "I'm Hayley Chambers," she said, "and I work for the princess. We're here to rescue you."

  "Wait," came a voice, "I know you. You sent me to this place."

  A grumbling of resentment began to build amongst the prisoners as they were pushed aside by a large man with a patchy beard.

  "Fenton Landry?" she said in surprise. "What in the Afterlife are you doing here? Your sentence should have ended years ago."

  "No one ever leaves this pit alive," the man growled. "It's all your fault I was sent here, you and the rest of the rangers."

  The crowd grew ugly, murmurings of their discontent increasing. The Orcs dropped down behind her, their bows covering the prisoners.

  "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you where you stand?” demanded Landry.

  Hayley lowered her sword. "You have been wronged," she said, "and have paid more than the price you should have. Help us, and we will grant amnesty."

  "Amnesty? From the crown? You must be daft if you think we'd believe that."

  Hayley looked on in confusion and then realized the problem. "You haven't heard? The kingdom is in the throes of a civil war. We're fighting to take back the crown. Join us, and you'll be rewarded."

  More muttering came from the crowd as the words sank in. "Why should we believe you?" he demanded.

  "I have no reason to lie," she responded. "I treated you fairly, despite your crimes. I could have hanged you by the roadside like other rangers do."

  "That's true," said Landry, "but we have no weapons, how can we help? It would be suicide to attack formed troops."

  "You don't need to," she replied. "Take what weapons you can from the guards. All you need to do is harass the rear of their lines; avoid combat, ransack their supplies, create havoc, we'll be right there with you. Our army is attacking Redridge even as we speak."

  Landry looked around at the crowd who watched him expectantly, "Well lads, it looks like our time is at hand. Who's with me?"

  They all yelled their assent and Hayley, finding she had been holding her breath, exhaled. "Grab that," she said, indicating the whip.

  The tall man stooped, taking up the weapon while others searched the body, producing a knife.

  "Come on," she said, "we've work to do. There are still more prisoners to free."

  * * *

  The sun was high in the sky as Arnim, along with Nikki, rode behind their lines giving his final orders. His archers, the men of Weldwyn, were primed for the assault.

  "You should get to safety, Nik," he said. "This will be dangerous work."

  "I'm used to danger," she said, "and I can look after myself."

  "This is not an alleyway. Besides, arrows and bolts will be flying everywhere, and you don't have armour. I need you to be safe."

  She looked around at the troops. "Very well," she acquiesced, "I shall return to the princess, but you must promise me you'll come back."

  "I'm not ready for the Afterlife just yet," he grinned. "I shall do my best to return to you."

  "You'd better," she replied. "I think while you're enjoying yourself here, I'll go and see Herdwin."

  "The Dwarf? Why?"

  "To see about getting some armour, of course. I don't want us separated again, Arnim. The next time we face battle, it'll be side by side."

  "Agreed," he said, "now get going, I have work to do."

  She rode off, pausing only long enough to look back and wave. He returned his attention to the troops. "Telethial," he called out.

  The Elven maid jogged over to him. "Yes, Commander?"

  "Are you ready to commence the attack?"

  "We are, Sir. Shall I give the order?"

  "Yes, begin your volleys now. We need to soften them up before we advance."

  * * *

  Gerald sat, watching, as the northern flank moved forward.

  "They've started the assault," he said, rather unnecessarily.

  "Yes," agreed Anna, "how long will we wait before hitting the centre?"

  "We'll wait till Arnim has fully occupied their attention."

  Beverly rode up, surprising Gerald.

  "What are you doing here?" he asked. "You should be preparing to assault the tower."

  "The princess sent for me," she said in explanation.

  Gerald looked at Anna, "What's this about?"

  "I know you won't like this, Gerald, but you can't lead the assault. Beverly will command the centre."

  "I command the army here," he said, stubbornly.

  "And I command you," she reminded him. "I can't afford to risk my general unnecessarily. Beverly is more than capable of leading the attack. You're needed here, to oversee the battle. You're the key to winning this war, Gerald, and I won't lose you."

  His face turned red, and, about to lash out, he paused as he realized the logic in her decision. "Very well," he said. "Beverly, you know the plan?"

  "Yes, General. We'll drive into the centre, keeping clear of the tower, if we can."

  "And the tower?" asked Gerald.

  "Once we've taken the centre and rolled up their northern flank, we'll see if they'll surrender. If not, we can still assault the tower using the original plan."

  "Very well," he said, "though it goes against my blood to be here while my men are fighting."

  Anna put her hand on his arm. "You are a general now," she soothed, "and must begin acting like one. You were successful in Weldwyn because you could see the developing battle, could react to it as needed."

  He nodded his head. "You're correct, of course. Where's Revi? We shall need his help."

  "I'm right here, General," came the mage’s voice. "I have Shellbreaker circling overhead, ready to report."

  "Then I see no reason to delay any further. Beverly, get into position. When Revi can see the north flank is occupied, you'll launch your attack. Look for the signal."

  "Aye, General," she said as she turned and rode off.

  "Any sign of Hayley's group?" he asked.

  "Not yet," said Revi, "but I'm keeping Shellbreaker's eyes peeled. If she was successful, they should be flooding out of the hills shortly."

  "Then we must hope they arrive in time."

  * * *

  The earthworks that anchored the north end of the line were extensive and backed up by catapults. As the Elves moved forward, their arrows flew, driving the defenders behind the security of their earthen walls. The catapults, safe behind the defences, started their own barrage, the stones arcing over the defenders to land in the area before them.

  Arnim drew his sword, its blade catching the noonday sun. He had dismounted to join the footmen in their assault. "Forward," he yelled, pointing his weapon in the direction of the enemy.

  The line began to move, more than two hundred men of Weldwyn, their swords and spears thirsty for blood. From Arnim's point of view, the enemy defences were little more than a ridge with the occasional head peeking over the rise. Forward he pushed them, and then the stones began to strike. It started with a whooshing sound as they flew overhead. One landed in front of them, ploughing up the land as the rock struck, and then it bounced, slewing through the lines, leaving a red stain where warriors had once been.

  "Keep moving!" Commander Caster yelled, his sword held aloft. He knew that once they were close enough, the catapults would be useless, unable to perform at the steep arc needed to hit them. He broke into a jog, his armour jangling in protest.

  The Weldwyn footmen surged forward like a tide, as fast as their feet could carry them. Arnim felt an arrow careen off of his shield, saw a soldier beside him go down, a bolt taking him in his leg. The ridge before him seemed to grow
as he drew closer. He pumped his legs, trying to climb the steep incline.

  About him men were crawling on all fours, grasping the dirt in an effort to make progress. He heard a bark of command and the enemy suddenly rose from behind cover, their spear tips glinting in the sun.

  "For Weldwyn!" he called, pushing himself forward. Onto the ridge he climbed, standing as he reached the top. Spears came at him, and he quickly parried with his sword. There was a whistling sound as Elven arrows flew into the enemy lines.

  Down into the trench he dropped, his sword striking out in a fury of blows. Soon, others were there with him, their distinctive blue surcoats easy to spot. Arnim's blade rose and fell, blood covering him as he hewed his way down the lines, the men following him like a pack of dogs.

  * * *

  Beverly sat astride Lightning, the great beast shifting about, eager to start. She was watching the battle unfold when an aide spoke.

  "The signal, Commander."

  Turning her head, she looked back toward the general where Revi's ball of light could clearly be seen rising high into the air. She returned her attention to the men around her.

  "This is it," she said. "Sound the advance."

  The cavalry began trotting. To their flanks, the Kurathian archers moved forward and began loosing their arrows. This was not accurate fire, but a maelstrom of shot meant to confuse and intimidate the enemy.

  She held Lightning back, his powerful legs easily able to outdistance the rest, if necessary. All around her, the heavy cavalry moved, flanked by the horsemen of Weldwyn and the remainder of the Mercerian riders. The advance started out slowly, the disciplined riders keeping a solid formation. Ahead she saw the enemy; there were no prepared defences here, just a line of footmen, their spears set to receive the charge.

  Time seemed to slow, and Beverly felt as though it took forever to reach the enemy, while their spear tips stood ready, mocking the advance. She lifted her sword high, and held it, waiting.

  The Kurathian archers suddenly switched targets. Now, instead of a shower of shots, they honed in on one part of the line. It was a short barrage, for soon the cavalry would block their view, but it was effective. The spearmen, needing two hands to wield their weapons, were unable to shield themselves from the arrows that flew forth. The line wasn't decimated, but enough went down that a small gap formed; a gap that the cavalry was counting on.