by P. S. Power
They ended up in the hills, by the end. The Tollan were going to have to come through a stone canyon in the hills, which would have been great, if they’d had firearms with them. They could have just set up at the top, blocked off one end and let the band walk directly into a trap. Instead they had to put most of their forces down in the canyon, leaving them nearly as trapped as the enemy would be.
He laughed, shaking his head as he realized what it was going to really take.
“Well, that’s nice. The best plan is to trap them, using lines of fighters on either side. After all that practice using other tactics.” It made sense however, which got Captain Herret to stick his tongue out, thinking about the idea.
“We use what works. Let’s scout and set up a lookout.”
That took the better part of a day, but at noon, after a night of not sleeping at all, since no one wanted to have their throat slit as they rested, a time honored Tollan battle strategy, they finally saw the strange men coming through the canyon.
They were white, wore thick furs and had long flowing hair, that was most often black or brown. They had beards, but those were thin and rangy seeming, resting mainly on the chin and upper lip. Their boots were more like leg wrappings than anything else. Ones made of leather, as a guess.
It was clear that they had bows, but those were short, and white, like bone which was interesting, given they were all on foot, walking in a haphazard band. They had knives as well, and bronze metal clubs that substituted for swords. They weren’t sharp, thankfully.
When they closed, the advantage would go to the men who had the iron edge. Not that George was against the idea of dumping rocks down on the barbarians. That part, the name calling, was interesting. He’d heard worse however, from the other world. When you fought people, it paid not to think too highly of them.
Especially if you were just going to trap and kill them like rats.
The first sign that they were seen came when the other side started yelling. It was loud and scared sounding, as if they weren’t off to rape and kill people on their own. The group was large enough, being about a hundred people. Probably all the men from a given village. They looked alike, but a lot of that probably had to do with them wearing similar clothing. It was all fur, which was different than anything he’d seen before, even on television.
George had people with bows up on the sides of the canyon, but was with the main group down in the bottom of it. There was a deep stream in the middle, which was only passable on one side. That piece of rock was ten feet across.
“Line up. Staggered lines, three abreast. Spear and shield. Standard formation.” He had to repeat himself, since that was how you commanded troops in battle. Otherwise they’d get confused and end up doing the wrong thing.
Captain Herret was behind the other group, with most of the men, since there was more room to maneuver on the other side. That meant, if the barbarians were smart and disciplined that they’d go for the smaller group first. Then have to fight while surrounded. Outnumbered, four to one.
That didn’t go well, for anyone. The fur clad men all ran away, or tried to, but ended up scattering in two directions, with armed men standing there, ready to kill them. Half of the plains dwellers went into the water, rather than getting pushed onto a row of spiked death. It would have been a good idea, except that for some reason, none of them could swim. George could, but he held his position as the men died.
They were planning to kill them anyway.
Fighting like that could have taken hours or days to finish up, but the confusion of one side meant that the Stenic soldiers just cut them down, closing the gap between the two forces, step by step. None of the wild men got away. Some of them weren’t really that, being hairless as far as their faces went. None were women however. They were just kids. Boys no older than thirteen in some cases.
They died as well as the others, since none of them looked all that good, in the main. A few managed to fight pretty well, but trapped like they were, it wasn’t about skill, but rather preparation. That was all on the side of the soldiers there that day. There were casualties on their side, but no deaths. One of the men had been stabbed fairly well, in the arm. That was bound well, but stopped bleeding after half an hour.
The other Captain walked over to him, his face calm seeming.
“Well, this was different. It worked though.” It was clear that he was troubled. Those men had been slaughtered after all.
George looked at the men, then pitched his voice, since they weren’t all that happy with the results. Not that any win wasn’t a good thing, but honor had not been best served that day.
“Remember, everyone… These men weren’t coming to visit and share gingerbread recipes. They planned to come and kill men and boys, taking their wives and daughters back to be their slaves. We don’t have to feel poorly for them! We stopped them to protect those other people. It was needed. Keep that in mind.” If it helped anyone it was hard to see, but Herret slapped him on the shoulder.
Then he called out as well.
“That’s simple truth. Strip the bodies and lay them out. We need to confirm the count, then get back on the road as soon as we can. We leave in two hours.” That wasn’t a lot of time to walk, but would get them away from the scene of all those deaths. No one wanted to nap on a battle field. All the ghosts and gory memories would keep people awake. Even feeling tired, no one groaned or bitched about having to get underway, only to stop again to make camp after too little walking.
That part, the camping each night, was uncomfortable. None of it was exactly his idea of a great time, but the walking was just exercise. In the evenings the men practiced fighting, both singularly and running standard drills. It was, it was clear, going to come up from time to time. It was a bit of a relief, at first, to see Regina, three days later.
Until she smiled at him, gave him a warm hug, a single kiss.
“There’s another group coming…” That got a groan from people, though they had over a week to get into place. It meant leaving the next morning however. This time the rearward camp was traveling with them again, for the first leg of the thing.
It wasn’t comfortable for anyone, but by traveling eight hours a day, they got into place in time. This time the battle was different. They were in a far more open position, and had to fight using the new techniques. The Tollan did better, but the numbers won out in the end. The main problem was that half of the men ran away before they could be killed. It was tempting to follow them, but George got Herret to hold back.
“No… I can’t prove it… But this seems off. It was a decently sized group, but… We need to send scouts. At a distance.” He couldn’t have said why it felt wrong, but it really did.
Interestingly, when the reports came back in, the answer to that one was clear. There was a body of several thousand enemy waiting for them, about five miles away. Standing in lines, marching like an army, instead of as individual fighters.
When he heard about it, Marcus Herret laughed. It wasn’t a happy thing at all.
“That… Of course. Naturally, they adapted before coming. They probably have a Wizard or two as well, keeping them hidden from our Witch. So, what do we do now? Suggestions? Anyone?”
There was nothing then, since the clear answer was to not engage, bringing in the army. Five hundred men weren’t going to take on four thousand very well.
No one wanted to be the one to say that however, since it would sound cowardly. Worse, the brave action, as foolish as it was personally, was the right one. Nearly. They had to hold the forces there long enough to allow the full might of the army to come in and change the odds.
When no one spoke for a minute, George shrugged.
“We need to send a contingent back to get help. Several of them, in fact, in case they’re stopped. That will increase our odds. One of them needs to get to the women and move them back. The rest of us need to hold the barbarians here. We can’t do that using normal methods. I have some ideas, but w
hoever stays will probably die. Any volunteers?”
He held up his own hand, which wasn’t how it was done there in Stena. Interestingly, Sergeant Martin stepped forward instantly. As if it wasn’t even a thought for him. A few of the others did as well. The idiots, more likely than not. He nodded at them. It was about twenty or thirty men, the others freezing, not really wanting to die just then.
“Good enough. The rest of you make ready. I’ll set up what we need to do here. First off, we need to get ready, but hold back, unless these forces start to move. Then we have to hit them invisibly. Unless we can…” He didn't say the words out loud, since it would make sense to wait for the other men to leave first. The ones staying would be hard enough to deal with, he didn't doubt. They were all good enough people, in their own way. Hard, but also too honorable, really.
Captain Herret moved over to him, shaking his head.
“I should be the one to stay. It’s a suicide mission and I’m in charge of these men.”
“It isn’t. Not if we do it right. It’s just really dangerous. I’m… I’m planning on doing some things that you wouldn’t be willing to, Marcus. I’ll get the men back, if I can. Alive. If I can’t, then know that we aren’t throwing their lives away. Get the reinforcements here quickly. We’re not taking them with twenty men. Even good fighters.”
That got a nod and a slap on the shoulder.
“I understand. Hard times make for hard men. We’ll be back in seven days. Even if it means coming alone. I promise that.” It was clear that he meant it.
George nodded then.
The trick would be doing just about what the terrorists had been. Killing the leaders at a distance, if possible. Except that using a sniper rifle was out, unfortunately. If they had one of those, he could have stayed back alone. Instead, they were going to have to be trickier than that. Still, it would be fighting using fear, in the end.
What he really needed was the internet. A thing that was right there, in his apartment, in a different world. One that he could access, in a pinch. Only, not on purpose. At least he never had before. It always just happened to him.
Not that he didn’t have some ideas anyway. What they needed was some way of introducing a poison to the food or water of their leaders in that camp. That would mean sneaking in, which was going to be dangerous, if they looked the way they did right then. The way he did. It made no particular sense to go in with twenty men for that part.
The big issue was that he didn't know what kinds of plants were going to work for things like that. Some kind of nightshade, probably, but what that looked like he didn't know. On the great side, he was almost certain the plants were all the same as the ones in the other world.
If that didn’t work, well, sneaking in and slitting a few throats might set the enemy back a bit. If they were the right ones. That was dangerous, though. Not just the personal danger, since odds were anyone trying it would be caught. There was also the raw fact that they might just decide that dashing right into Stena for war or whatever they had planned would be the best idea. So, that kind of thing needed to be left for later, if possible.
Actually, the best thing that could happen would be for illness. If they had a well, throwing a dead animal in it might work. They wouldn’t be doing that. Given everything there was probably a small stream on the other side of the encampment they were using for water. These men might not be used to moving large numbers of troops, but someone had gotten clever enough to change their old and traditional techniques.
It was going to take care and time though, which they wouldn’t be getting, he was willing to bet. There had been an obvious trap for the men there, which they didn't walk into. They’d been expected to run into the larger group, chasing the ones who had come first. The clear answer to that would be for the main body of men to move out, following the fleeing company.
That would change the time scale they had to act in. What he really needed was a nice bomb or two. That, or a machine gun. There was nothing to make either of those things out of in that world. Not to hand. There were ten thousand things they could have done, but they all needed time.
Well, except for one.
“Sergeant, you have a horse with you?”
“Aye. Sally is a fine beast. You’ve need of her?” The man seemed a bit resigned, instead of upset.
“Possibly. We need to get part of those arrayed over there to chase us, away from the people leaving. A horse can move faster than a man, so we can get them to chase you, right?” He grinned. “As one of the groups. We’re going to have to have several doing the same thing. Spreading them back toward where they came from. We’ll probably die, of course, but hey, that’s the life of a soldier.”
The other man laughed then. A big thing that was clearly designed to seem happy, as if it were a great idea, instead of the only thing they have that would work at all. When the man recovered, after half a minute, he waved at his men.
“Well, a bit of chase is better than I figured. I thought the crazy Captain was going to have us rush in and fight them all man to man. We might even survive this!”
Probably not, but George didn’t bother to correct the fellow. The others seemed happier to hear about the idea than not, after all. To that end he got out his map, and drew several lines on it.
“Gather around men. We might have to move sooner, rather than later. The trick will be in not letting ourselves get pinned in place. I’ll go in first, and attack. Arrows, until they send a group after me. Then I’ll follow this path, along the river. Sergeant, you and Sally will do the same on the far side. That’s the furthest away from us. Don’t let them get too close, if you can help it. The rest of you will break up into two groups. When the smaller groups come after us, your job will be all about getting larger contingents to come for you. They’ll be marching by then, at a guess. These lines will take you back the way they came, but at a thirty-degree angle on either side. They took the easy route, no doubt, so everything we do will need to be harder, or else they’ll catch us instantly. Then we all run, until no one is coming for us anymore. That will be… Two to five days, at a guess. So, no sleep. No long rests. Keep moving the whole time. From what I can see most of them can’t swim, so if you can, use that to your benefit.”
That got nods all the way around, but the fact of the matter was that things weren’t going to work all that smoothly. They never did, in real life. You made plans and then hoped that it was enough to give you something to work from. At first he kept that idea to himself, but then he shrugged and shared it.
“You all know this, really. Don’t be afraid to do what you have to, in order to make things work. I’ll back you up with the men in charge, so don’t get bogged down in what you think your orders are. Except the part where we need to slow these fighters as much as possible. Try not to die. If you have to, then take as many of them with you as possible.”
That wasn’t the last time they went over things. Again, you had to cover it all until everyone knew their part. Even if that was going to be hard, maybe impossible, to pull off. It was part of why he was the one going in first. Not because he thought he could do a better job than anyone else. It was more that it was a moronic plan, and if the first one in died, that should be on him.
Which made him think for a moment. If the world was all his own fantasy, then things should work out more or less all right. He might be prone to delusion, but overall George tended to win in life. Sure, through hard work and suffering, but it wasn’t always him being beaten up by the world. If the place he was in was real, which was seeming more and more like it was impossible, then he had to try really hard not to end up dead. It was probably just a good plan all the way around.
Trying to measure that kind of thing out was getting hard for him, he had to admit. It wasn’t that hard to balance the two worlds all the time, since he had all the information and recalled things when he wasn’t there. Clearly living his life responsibly regardless of his first-hand input. No one ever mentioned hi
m being strange or weird part of the time or anything.
Worrying about how to keep things together was becoming a real drain though. He wasn’t living his life, he was existing, going from one thing to another as it came up, instead of choosing his own path all the time. That was wearing him down, he realized. So, it was a good idea to figure out how to stop doing that. Not that it was going to be easy or anything. His mind had become trained to think it was sick or broken. He saw that in everything he did now, nearly.
After the main body of men left, walking away at a quick trot, jogging practically, he waved his twenty brave men toward himself. They all just stood there for a moment, clearly expecting yet another briefing, going over what they already knew. They were wrong. It was time for the final pep talk.
“We’re about to go into something very dangerous. Remember, don’t engage more than needed. Get their attention from a distance, and then draw them along. The job is to distract them for a while, not kill them all. If worse comes to worse, put your heads down and run. We aren’t taking gear with us, just water. That means you will be hungry, tired and miserable through most of this. We’re lucky in a way, since we know that’s going to happen first. Accept that now and it won’t influence you as much when it happens. That will give us an advantage over the Tollan. They have no idea what’s about to hit them. I promise you that.”
It wasn’t the only thing they had going for them, but thinking that the plains men were weak or slow wasn’t going to help anyone either. These fellows were nomads, which meant they traveled a lot. Walking wasn’t going to be that big of an issue for them.
“Distance is key. Think about how to attract their attention in the distance. Small smoke fires might do it, if you get enough distance. Lobbing arrows as well, if you can get up on a hill, so they’ll carry farther. The big key here is that we need to hold out for seven days. That really means two weeks, of course. Everything always takes longer than you think, doesn’t it?” He grinned, as if it were a joke. Several of the others nodded though, considering.