Fates Choice

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Fates Choice Page 14

by Tristan Fairfield


  “Front of the column is starting down the track. It’s too narrow to march as we have been, so the column will be stretched out twice as much as we are now”. Garel tried to keep his tone flat but Torr still caught a strong air of concern from the commander. “I’ll need two of your men to act as messengers, one at the front and one in the middle. And may The Sunlord protect us if the gaestnips know we’re coming now”. Garel turned his horse sharply and galloped down the outside of the column and now out of sight. Torr quickly realised he wasn’t waiting for the two messengers so Torr instructed Caenet to get two riders to fall out, one to follow Garel to the front of the column and the other to report to Carodin who, Torr knew, was in the middle.

  The two riders quickly followed Garel down the outside whilst Torr and his remaining men inched forward, towards the path themselves.

  Torr could feel his angst rising and, when he eventually got to the path, he could see why even the experienced Garel seemed concerned.

  The path was only just wide enough for two men to march side by side. Raeknor’s caravan was brushing limbs of sturdy fir trees on both sides which, on their left, were also jutting from the mossy and stony bank that rose on that side of the path. To their right was a tangle of ash trees, saplings and, given the time of year, the start of briar and thorn bushes as well. Garel was right, if they were attacked now, if a single scout got back to the camp to warn the main force, then there would be nothing anyone could do to defend themselves effectively. Every man would have to fight as an individual and not in formation, which was their strength. Torr knew a gaestnip could best most men in single combat. Even the smaller kind were possessed of a brute strength that even a seasoned or heavily armoured warrior could barely withstand.

  Torr could still see the two messengers that had been dispatched even before they left the turnpike. They had still not got to their new posts as they could barely muscle past the, now very long, column of men. The only consolation was that the track seemed very straight. On horseback, Torr could just about see the head of the column still, albeit only just. All this meant was that Torr would just be able to see which part of their column got attacked as there was no way at all he could get to them.

  He and Caenet agreed they did not want to stretch their own lines any more than they could so they would try and ride side by side. The path was narrow enough that it meant the men’s stirrups were almost getting tangled with each other.

  Raeknor’s caravan was also lurching badly from side to side. The dry spell meant the ruts in the path were quite deep. There were also some gouge marks in the track as well where, Torr presumed, the caravans taken by the bandits had been physically dragged back to their lair. His opinion on this firmed as they carried on. After quite some distance, Torr saw a broken caravan wheel that appeared to have been thrown into the undergrowth on their right.

  The physical appearance of debris brought it home to Torr that the bandits were real enough and that this was not all some elaborate training hoax. Just at the point where the broken wheel lay, Raeknor’s caravan lurched heavily, almost tipping onto its side. The cavalry were brought to a dead stop behind them as the magistrate’s men had to man handle the caravan back on track. This also underlined the strength of the bandits to Torr as there was no sign of the rest of the caravan to which the wheel was previously attached. Gods’, they must have physically lifted and carried the rest of it.

  They continued in silence, the air in the wood feeling quite thick which, at least, masked the sound of one hundred and thirty men, fifteen horses and two caravans by some margin. The track rose quite harshly at points as well, creating crests over which Torr expected to be confronted with their enemy, tensing each time they neared each new rise. The wood was thick enough though that visibility above the tree tops and to either side of the path was restricted. Bernhart’s reconnaissance had therefore been sound. If Ahred’s men had done their job, then the gaestnips would have no warning until they got a lot nearer the palisade. Torr started to listen intently for any suspicious noises but the forest masked all sound. Raelf appeared settled below him though. He knew horses had a good nose for trouble and might, therefore, be his first warning something was amiss.

  His nerves calmed momentarily, only to allow his thoughts about last night’s meeting, with the master wizard, to raise their head. What if he did inadvertently conjure something? What if he set all his men alight through his own fear or anger? Torr thought he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck start to stand up again, almost as if he was subconsciously giving his fears a life of their own.

  He tried to concentrate on scouting for signs of life, as if he was hunting, but there was no sign or sound of danger. Instinctively, his hand went to his bow. He still only had his hunting bow with him. The bowyer had still been treating the wood for his new commission when they left Valheimer’s fortress.

  He figured that would be the best he could do to assist from here as the path showed no signs of widening. In fact, it was starting to twist up the hillside as well so the column had to negotiate sharp turns as well. Once again, Raeknor’s caravan got into difficulty negotiating the tightest of these, to the point where they had to quickly unhitch the pack horses and, with Torr’s and Caenet’s help, bumped the caravan around the rising turn.

  This meant that Raeknor’s men had to try and break the packhorses into a trot to catch up with the still slow moving infantry in front of them. Eventually, the path straightened and evened out. Torr fancied that the sunlight seemed a little brighter in the distance ahead. In the thickly wooded area, Torr had no idea how far they had travelled or how much further they had to go. He also realised that, even when they got near the clearing where the palisade was located, the front of the column would be into open ground before the cavalry or the back of the infantry column could deploy. Until they did, the front of the column would be vulnerable.

  Just as Torr was pondering this dilemma, he caught the sound of some noise, just general sound at first.

  As the cavalry came over the last crest though, Torr saw the wood was indeed thinning out. As he looked further into the distance, towards the head of the column, he caught a rush of movement, from their right, which appeared to be accompanying the noise. Both sight and sound came into focus at the same time; gaestnips!

  A small savage wave crashed into the front of the infantry column. Even from this distance, Torr saw bodies flying backwards from the enemy. This was Garel’s fear. An attack before they could form up into a shield and spear wall. Individually, the gaestnips could tear them apart if there were enough of them. The two units that were supposed to be commanded by Garel and Carodin, as flanks to the main line, were actually starting to deploy as the wood had thinned enough for troops to move off the track. The two reserve units were now breaking into a run up the path. Torr realised they needed to act as well.

  “Caenet, we need to get up there and charge their flank”. From what Torr could see, they would be better off going round to the right, which was the same way as Carodin’s unit was moving.

  It was only after Torr broke Raelf into a slow canter that he actually looked around to check Caenet had heard him and was following. Dutifully, his sergeant and riders were behind him. He was having to move further over to his right than he wanted. Otherwise, he could see he was going to get stuck behind Carodin’s troops. Although the wood was not as dense, the trees were still thick enough to stop the cavalry galloping at full pace to aid their comrades. Over the top of Carodin’s troops though and, in between the trees, Torr could see that the group of gaestnips were already being held up by the infantry that had survived the initial onslaught. The noise came into sharp relief as Torr, over the pounding of Raelf’s hoofs, could hear the individual, shouts, screams and roar of man and beast alike. Torr realised in his eagerness, he had not unbuckled his mace. He fumbled with the top strap it was fastened by, as Raelf had to twist and turn. “You’re not Scout are you”, he muttered to his horse, as he made frustrati
ngly slow progress round the side of Carodin now.

  Just then he heard a sound like a thunder clap followed by a flash of lightning but the sky was bright blue, as far as Torr could tell. A gaestnip was propelled backwards only some twenty yards in front of him but it was already a good fifteen feet in the air when Torr first saw it. Its body still crackling from whatever had killed it. Torr knew he would have to go past the line of attack first before he could turn to hit them at their back. As he drew really close though, he quickly tried to take in the size of the enemy. Torr could only see some fifteen gaestnips or so now, a few on the ground and, as he looked, another thunder and lighting clap immediately followed by a flying, but very dead, creature. Its hairy hide had been charred in parts.

  Torr could not see Garel, Braetol or Bernhart but he suspected that the wizard had something to do with the airborne gaestnips, so must still be very much alive. There were a lot more dead and wounded infantry though but, despite this, the remaining bandits looked like they were already wavering. The few who were not being quickly enveloped by the flanks of the infantry were backing away. God’s, thought Torr, by the time we get there it will be all over. In fact, just as Torr was about to turn his horse, the gaestnips who were able to flee started to run towards the edge of the wood, towards where, Torr presumed, the palisade was. Strange, they had attacked from the right though and the palisade was supposed to be on their left if Bernhart was correct. There should also have been a lot more of them.

  Torr’s only shot at glory now would be to club one of the fleeing gaestnips. He had to turn Raelf again and get his lumbering mount up to speed. The creatures that were running seemed to do so with more speed than they had when they charged. He looked around and saw Caenet was just been behind him. It would be a race then, to see who could chase down the gaestnip that was closest to both of them now. Torr urged Raelf on. As he did so, he realised they had been closer to the edge of the wood than he thought. The trees thinned further, to the point where Raelf was now at a gallop. As he closed on the creature, Torr fancied he could see the palisade itself. It was indeed to their left, as Bernhart had said, about three hundred yards away maybe. As it came into view, Torr heard the sound of a loud horn, coming from the palisade. Shit, there’s more inside. He was catching what appeared to be the last live gaestnip, which had run to its left, slightly away from Caenet. Torr readied his mace, practice giving rise to focus now. The creature was looking behind, miraculously not having run into one of the last few trees as its horse mounted death approached. In the background, the horn was sounding continuously. Five yards past the end of the tree-line, Torr judged his swing connecting firmly with the back of the gaestnip’s bare head, making a sickening noise of rapidly crushed bone. The gaestnips body was flung forward, off its feet, by the blow as well, an able demonstration of heavy horse and mace at a gallop.

  Torr bought Raelf to a halt. Caenet pulled up quickly and congratulated the young officer on his first kill. Truth be told, Torr felt nothing for the creature. He’d hunted deer for quite a few years now and felt no different to when his arrows had pierced his earlier quarry. Only this time, he would not take the gaestnips body home on a spit to roast it!

  “There’s more in there Caenet”. Without acknowledging the sergeant’s praise, Torr continued to look at the palisade, which was quite a size. The earth around it had been dug out so the wooden structure was raised by some twelve feet at least. A rampart led to the only entrance, two solid looking wooden gates, which were currently shut. It was well over one hundred yards long and perhaps almost half as wide. The tree stakes that comprised the walls were two deep and well worked. It had aged well and even appeared to have withstood the inevitable lack of maintenance visited upon it by its current squatters. About half way along its length, Torr could see the remains of two caravan frames, which had just been left to rot outside.

  Bernhart was right, they were not going to get in there in a hurry. If the gaestnips’ saw through the ruse of Raeknor’s little caravan of spare parts, this might all be for nothing, the bandits perhaps even picking them off as they tried to retreat. They were known for their vicious animal cunning.

  Torr now looked behind them, to see one of his men galloping towards them on the path that led out of the wood. The horn continued to sound.

  The rider was the messenger assigned to the middle of the infantry column just as they left the road. Torr hadn’t even had time to register that these two men were not with him when the engage had started.

  Before the rider could reach them though, Torr heard a great creaking noise and saw the gates of the palisade start to open. Almost immediately, a sea of brown matted hide poured out and started down the ramp towards them. Gaestnips never wore armour, as far as he had been told, and that certainly appeared to be the case from what Torr could see now, save for the odd shield. Some appeared to have no weapon at all, their fists and teeth all that most of them needed to kill with.

  “Sir, Lieutenant Culos sent me to tell you Captain Braetol is dead, and Commander Valheimer is wounded as are a further twenty three men, dead and wounded, from the main infantry unit. The officer from Bereofs Town is folding half the reserves into the main line sir”.

  There was already too much shock in the messenger’s tone for it to rise further at the sight now starting to charge towards them with a roar that was beginning to drown out the sound of the gaestnips’ own horn.

  “Well, you’d better tell Lieutenant Culos that all the hells are rushing towards us so the infantry need to get out from behind the tree-line and form up. We stick with the plan. Tell Magistrate Raeknor that we no longer need his caravan as well”. Torr surprised himself at the calmness with which he directed his response and dispatched the messenger back to the column, some of which was still some fifty yards behind the edge of the wood.

  “And when you’ve done that, rejoin the rest of your unit here”. The messenger was under way when Torr shouted his final command, but the man turned and nodded as he galloped off.

  The rest of Torr’s cavalry had joined him and Caenet now. He could sense they were waiting for orders too. “Sergeant, I think we had better get back into the tree-line. No point us charging ahead without infantry”. Torr’s gaze was still fixed on the mass of gaestnips coming towards them. The first were now at the bottom of their rampart but their number filled the earth-worked ramp itself, so that they were still coming out from the gates. Two were clearly giantkin, standing about twelve feet tall or so he estimated from this distance. In total, it looked about fifty, plus maybe the twenty or so that had just attacked them already. So Bernhart had underestimated the strength of their foe, or the number had increased since the wizard’s reconnaissance here. Torr’s fear was trying to choke his resolve and discipline. He could also feel the familiar tingling on the back of his neck and also into the ends of his fingers as well. The messenger had not said what had become of Bernhart.

  Caenet agreed and suggested to his young officer that they position themselves to the right of where they anticipated the right flank of Carodin’s infantry should be. Torr looked back and saw the men were starting to mobilise, but only slowly as the troops in the main shield wall took in the reserves from Oaks Keep and Bereofs Town. Torr had barely registered the messenger’s comments that Braetol was dead. He had no idea how badly wounded Garel was. Torr also presumed that, as the messenger had come from the centre of the column, the rider that had been dispatched to the front had also been killed or wounded.

  The cavalry moved back as the infantry broke into a slow run towards them, loosely now in formation, drawing closer to the tree-line. Torr didn’t fancy their chances of actually getting out from the tree-line though and setting their shield wall before them, such was the speed of their foe’s advance. The gaestnips showed no fear of being outnumbered as they started to fan out, still at top speed as the flanks of the infantry started to take shape as well. Torr saw that the two giantkin gaestnips had moved away from the cavalry, and were headin
g towards the far side of the battle line, on the flank that Garel should have been commanding. Torr could see Carodin’s line coming out to fill the gap between Torr’s cavalry and the shield wall. The closer the creatures got, the more eager they seemed to be, to engage with the humans in their battle lust. It was going to be too late. Torr could see the line would not form in time. He had already brought the small cavalry detachment back into the tree-line by a short distance, to avoid being caught out himself.

  Torr felt another tingling in his palm. He swore he could start to see small sparks come off the top of the head of his mace. As he looked again towards the tide of savage death still rolling towards them, Torr thought the creatures were slowing. The air in front of them had become slightly opaque and the enemy at the head of the charge looked as if they were almost trying to claw their way through some largely invisible soup. The lines behind bashed into the leading edge of the charge, forcing their struggling comrades onwards as they, in turn, became wrapped in this conjured fog.

  Torr looked to his left and could see Bernhart, right at the far side of the infantry line to himself, leaning against the staff that Torr had seen the wizard carrying. The mages head was down and he was almost kneeling.

  The check in the enemy’s speed gave the infantry much needed time to start forming up, spears and shields being thrust forward now with one or two of the Skarsdale’s family’s billhooks on display in the rapidly forming lines behind.

  They had not met the enemy square on though. The main thrust of the gaestnips looked as if it would crash against the left hand side of the line and that flank Torr’s cavalry were, once again, the furthest from the action. Carodin had already seen this and had diligently started to moves his right flank forward.

 

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