Stone Will

by Kirill Klevanski

  So why had a two million strong army arrived at such a well-fortified city? The reason was that the nomads could just go around the Fort. And if the garrison had tried to hit them with a rear assault, the horsemen would’ve turned the infantry into minced meat on the prairie.

  The Kingdom of Lidus had no choice but to defend this Fort. The nomads had no choice but to besiege the city so as not to be surrounded during some other battle, down the line.

  War wasn’t such a complicated thing when soldiers forgot about the existence of the word ‘choice’ and realized that there was only ‘must’.

  “It begins,” Nero said, unwittingly checking the sword in his scabbard.

  Black clouds of smoke rose above the city—the cannonballs were brought out. They were being taken out and placed on the walls. The engineers reinforced the gate with iron sheets. A combustible mixture was poured into the moat. The archers were practicing, shooting arrows into the sky.

  Hadjar smelled fire, iron, and fear.

  These were the smells of war.

  Chapter 57

  It was better than settling on the borders of the Kingdom, where thieves or groups of nomads often raided. Even so, such villages still existed.

  Their inhabitants either negotiated with the enemy or survived as they could because it was difficult for them to move somewhere else... Hadjar figured that the peasants simply refused to leave the habitable and cultivated land.

  They set up their camp near the central gate. The Fort couldn't accommodate two million people.

  The senior officers had been given permission to live within the walls of the Fort, but they had refused. They had to monitor the army and direct it. Allowing the lower-ranking officers to control the army would mean it would be less disciplined. Nobody wanted it to come to that right before the big fight.

  And so, the soldiers set up their tents, following the example of General Leen.

  Tired from the week-long march, the exhausted soldiers could hardly wait to reach their beds. But the officers and commanders had to go to the War Council. This time, the messenger who came to Dogar’s distant camp unexpectedly invited both the senior officer and his assistant.

  Hadjar barely had time to put on his impractical, bulky armor and clothes before he had to follow Dogar. Dogar had asked him to wear the armor, but Hadjar felt it was pointless. After all, the armor wouldn’t protect him from a serious attack, same as how regular chainmail and leather armor wouldn’t have been able to protect him. So Hadjar didn't see the point.

  A lot of people had gathered in the tent, except for the people whom he’d met at the last meeting, and an outsider was there as well—the head of the Fort. He was a general too, but his status was below that of the army’s own general.

  He looked a little pathetic.... He didn’t have the appearance of a general, as he was short, dressed in silk robes, pointy suede shoes, and had quite a prodigious gut. He looked more like an official that had been stationed in the Northern fleet for a few decades.

  “Do you know lady Leen?” He asked in a mocking voice.

  “General Leen,” a serious, golden-haired female warrior in armor corrected him.

  Several soldiers stood behind the head of the Fort. At first, Hadjar didn’t understand what it was about their armor that troubled him so much and then he realized that... They were wearing new armor that glittered in the light of the torches and lamps, and had a polished, shining surface. This kind of armor was good for a parade or celebration, but not for war.

  Damn it, how many years has it been since the nomads last came to the north? And why did they suddenly decide to show up now? It’s clear that the south is an almost lifeless desert. All the people have been forced into the mine. And even those who weren’t forced into slave labor have barely enough to survive on. They have nothing that can be robbed.

  But why are they attacking us now—before the rainy season? After all, the nomads tended to invade in the early summer, when their horses could graze freely, and the ground was quite hard.

  “We can position 120 of your guns here,” the General moved the toy gun closer to the hill. “They will not be visible from behind the hill and we can fire two or three volleys before the battle starts.”

  “For the sake of two or three volleys,” the head of the Fort was clearly mockingly parodying Leen’s voice. Some of the senior officers took up arms. Including Dogar.

  But the head of the Fort merely shook his head, “I won't even give you ten guns for that. They will remain on the walls, I won’t give them to your soldiers.”

  “I wish to remind you, esteemed head of the Fort, that I have a direct order from the Generals. You and your entire garrison are at my complete disposal. So, my making it a request was merely a platitude.” The General frowned, and it was a clear warning sign. “In reality, it's an order.”

  “Oh, well, if it’s an order…” The general of the Fort smiled condescendingly. “Luka, tell me, what is the status of the guns?”

  A man that was more reminiscent of a rat than a human came out of the shadows of the tent. He was hunched over, wearing large, expensive, and oversized clothes. One of those poor people who’d acquired money and power, but no dignity to go along with them.

  “The mandatory minimum prescribed by the Generals is up on the walls. Six hundred, twenty-four guns.”

  He couldn't even pronounce numbers properly.

  “Can we remove them?” The head of the Fort asked smugly, already knowing the answer.

  “No, General,” the rat-man bowed.

  “It turns out we can’t do it,” the Fort’s commander repeated, turning to Leen.

  “I don't want your primary weapons,” the General, despite the fact that she had obviously been made fun of, did not lose her temper. She was apparently used to being in similar situations. “You must keep at least four hundred spare units of the weapons in reserve, according to the law, in case your primary weapons get destroyed. You'll give me a hundred and twenty of them. That is a direct order.”

  “A direct order,” the official sighed sadly. “Luka, let’s help this beautiful lady out. Give her one hundred and twenty cannons from our stock.”

  “I beg your pardon, General,” the servant, or maybe even the lover of the fort commander, bent his back again as he bowed low. “But according to our recent estimates, there are only... four spare cannons in our inventory.”

  General Leen exhaled and clenched her fist.

  “Where are your weapons, Fort commander?” She snarled.

  “Oh, well, I don’t even know,” the fat man leaned on the table where the map had been laid out and started to drum his fingers against it. They were topped with gold rings that had expensive, precious stones in them. There were bracelets on his wrists that were even more expensive and conspicuous. “Where are our cannons? What a nuisance. Maybe someone has sold them!”

  The senior officers looked at each other and each of them was ready to gut this boar. He was mocking them! Without any fear at all, he was actually mocking them—the commanders of an army that had two million soldiers. He must have felt he was untouchable, to allow himself to ridicule such powerful people.

  “We have had no war for a hundred years, General Leen,” the official blew on his nails and then wiped them on his gold and brocade clothes. “The royal treasury probably allocated insufficient funds to our Fort, so the weapons fell into disrepair. I ask them to increase our allowance every month. Awful. It’s truly awful, General Leen. But, as you can plainly see, I can’t give you any cannons. However official and direct your order might be.”

  General Leen banged her fist on the table.

  “Are you out of your mind, Sirius?” Her gaze made even Hadjar feel uneasy. “Have you truly grown so insolent? I’ll put you on trial.”

  “Of course you will,” the official nodded. “But before you do that, you’ll be fighting against the nomads for a couple of months, sitting under my walls, eating my food, and under the protection of my peopl
e. Then you’ll judge me. But think twice about that... There might be no provisions for you in my stocks. Or arrows, medicine, or anything else, really.”

  “Are you threatening me, Sirius? Shall I grab my spear?”

  “Of course, my dear Leen. Don’t delay at all, take up your famous Moonbeam and stick my head on it, then put it in the center of your camp, as you love to do. Then you yourself will have to explain to the tribunal why, during a time of war, you murdered a fellow general.”

  Despite his pitiful appearance, during this diatribe, the fat man’s gaze was full of steel and self-confidence. Maybe, long ago, he’d led hundreds of thousands of soldiers, but during the years he’d spent in warmth and comfort, he’d gotten fat and insolent.

  “Mark my words, Sirius, —I won’t forget this.”

  “Will the Moon General herself remember me and even think about me? Gods, I haven’t wasted my life.”

  “Get out.”

  “My respects,” the official bowed.

  Before leaving the tent, he turned and smiled.

  “These walls are impregnable, my dear. For thousands of years, no enemy has breached them. What can these savages do? Nothing! You’d better come visit us—we’ll be having a feast soon. It’s for my birthday party. I’m inviting you and all of your soldiers! The more the merrier. Besides, we’ve recently built a new brothel…”

  “I thought I ordered you to get out. Or are you challenging my direct order?”

  “No, my General,” the official said. “I just suggested that we might want to have a good time and relax—the nomads won’t be coming here. By the way, a circus has just arrived. They have such funny freaks there.”

  Giggling, General Sirius left the tent. The garrison soldiers, urged on by Dogar’s menacing gaze, followed after him.

  The General slapped the table and sank heavily into her chair.

  “Without the cannons, our plan with the hill is doomed to failure,” the chief engineer removed the toy cannon from the map. “We must invent something new. Perhaps we’ll be able to take some gunpowder from them…”

  “You still don’t understand, Commander Tuur,” the General smoothed her hair and pulled herself together. “That idiot has sold everything he could. There are no stocks left in the Fort. And I can’t take even an arrowhead from his own inventory. The charter doesn’t allow it, and he knows that. He’s using it to thwart us.”

  “Damned politics,” Lian, the commander of the archers, cursed.

  “Damned greed,” Helion corrected her.

  “And yet, Sirius’ words have a grain of reason to them,” the General said, leaning above the map. “There has been no war in the north for thousands of years. Why are the nomads coming now and why are they coming here? Tim, what do your scouts report?”

  “The squads I’ve sent out along the border are sending regular reports,” the spymaster said. “As for the scouts that I sent to the rear... No one has returned or sent any messages yet.”

  Everyone in the tent became gloomy. That was bad news. Very bad news.

  “There are mountains there, my General,” Tuur explained, moving the pointer. “My people don’t know that area very well. In addition, there are many nomad patrols, and the wind and rain have ruined all the roads. I’m afraid my scouts are useless there. It’s a waste of forces and resources. We’ll have to act at random.”

  “At random, you say,” the General repeated, casting a meaningful look around at everyone present, settling her gaze on...

  “Officer Hadjar!”

  “Yes, my General!” Hadjar punched his chest and bowed.

  “You said that you lived in a mountain village and it rained a lot.”

  “Yes, my General.”

  “And that you lived in the north…”

  “Yes, my General.”

  Leen sighed and pointed to the Blue Wind ridge.

  “Do you know that territory?”

  Hadjar looked at the map and requested a detailed description of the ridge and its terrain from the neuronet database. Fortunately, there had been enough scrolls with information about the area in the Palace. And Hadjar had managed to see most of them, which was quite enough for the neural network.

  “Yes, my General,” he answered again.

  “Then, Senior Officer Dogar, allow me to use your assistant.”

  “Yes, sir,” Dogar saluted immediately.

  “Officer,” the General turned back to Hadjar. “How many people will you need?”

  “Only one.”

  “One?!” The spymaster snorted. “A lot of my people are dying there, and you want us to send only two of you to the ridge?”

  “With all due respect, Senior Officer, they are dying because there are too many of them. In the mountains, people are strangers. Out there, even one man can be easily seen, not to mention a whole detachment. Two men have more of a chance than twenty men.”

  “Okay,” the General nodded and raised her hand, interrupting Commander Tim. “Take as much food as you need and hit the road.”

  “When do we leave, my General?”

  “Right now, Officer Hadjar. We’re pressed for time. As far as I can see, your wounds have already healed.”

  Hadjar nodded.

  “This is your mission, Officer,” the General took the pointer. “You’ll go along the ridge and find the nomads’ camp. We need information about their overall numbers, readiness for battle, how many riders and infantry they have. We also need an estimate on the approximate stages of their Commanders as well as any elite units you might encounter. Artifacts as well, if you see any. In general, we need all the information about the enemy you can get us.”

  “I understand, my General. May I leave?”

  “You may.”

  Hadjar turned on his heels and walked out.

  General Leen shouted: “Good luck, Officer Hadjar! We’re counting on you!”

  We’re counting on you…

  Nero is unlikely to be delighted with this… ‘We’re counting on you ’.

  Chapter 58

  “Let’s go to a brothel, Nero. Let’s have fun with a couple of girls, Nero. Let’s get drunk, Nero. Let’s go to the freak show, Nero. No! Damn it! He’s cuddling up to me and saying—let’s go toward the enemy, Nero. Fuck you, Hadj. I’ll be dying soon, and I’ve never slept with twins yet!”

  Nero kept grumbling but still carried the bag that had the supplies they’d obtained and a communication artifact inside it. It looked like a raven figurine, covered in mystical runes and drawings. Hadjar couldn’t understand the secrets that those symbols held, but, on the other hand, he now knew how to send messages over long distances.

  The wooden ‘raven’ artifact worked like a walkie-talkie.

  Object

  A communication artifact

  Range

  ~ 120km

  “You wanted adventure, didn’t you?” Hadjar shrugged.

  They were walking out of the camp and toward the forest, so there was no need for secrecy. When they were outside the perimeter, at the border, then they would have to be alert. Who knew how many scouts the nomads had already sent out? They might have been scouring the woods at that exact moment, doing exactly the same kind of work that Hadjar was doing.

  “Adventure, even a demon spawn is fine, but not a trip to my own execution!”

  “Everything will be fine, Nero.”

  “Of course, I don’t even doubt it!” The guy snapped, adjusting his bale. “I’m unhappy because I’ve found out which brothels have twins in them and you’ve taken me away from those.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll end up liking a nomad girl.”

  “A savage?” Suddenly, Nero stopped and thought about it, remembering something. “Demons and gods, I’ve never been with a savage!”

  He overtook Hadjar and shouted over his shoulder, “Hurry up, Hadj!”

  Hadjar smiled. Nero could complain as much as he wanted, but in fact, he was glad to be doing the investigation. He was just ‘grumbling�
� for decency’s sake. But in reality, both of them, like madmen, had greeted the new adventure with smiles.

  As they walked toward the forest, they discussed the advantages of the savage girls and their trained bodies over soft, untrained bodies. Nero came to the conclusion that he had to bring Hadjar to a brothel. His friend just shrugged, adjusting his bag.

  Back at the ‘warehouse’, they’d taken enough food for a week. Thanks to Nero’s impudence and talkativeness, they’d also gotten several explosive shells, some combustible mixture, and some other things as well. As a result, they looked more like saboteurs than scouts. Even if they were both more or less ordinary foot soldiers, just part of Dogar’s elite unit.

  When they reached the forest, they tied down and adjusted their bales so that they were like backpacks. They smeared themselves with clay, trying to get rid of the smell of sweat and smoke that had gotten stuck to them back in the camp.

  Like Hadjar, Nero had replaced his boots with knitted bast shoes. They wrapped them in a cloth, smeared them with the same clay and immediately shook them vigorously. This was enough to tone down the smell and not cover the ‘shoes’ with a crust that would crack and rustle as they walked.

  Then the friends firmly strapped down anything that could make any sounds and, making sure both of them could understand each other’s signals, moved into the forest.

  It met them with the cries of birds, the rustling of leaves, and the distant noises of various animals. The forest had dense foliage and was very dark as a result. It was also larger than the one near Spring Town.

  Who in their right mind, except for them, would even go into the border forest? Any visitors would probably be killed by an animal, a nomad, or a bandit.

  The tree crowns were not as thick as they’d expected, letting in enough light to keep their eyes from straining. Pillars of light caressed the huge tree trunks, making them shine with an almost coppery sheen.