Demontech: Rally Point: 2 (Demontech Book 2)

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Demontech: Rally Point: 2 (Demontech Book 2) Page 20

by David Sherman


  Hardly taller than the length of a man’s hand, the demon pulled itself out far enough to expose chest and shoulders. It tapped itself on the chest and mouthed, “Ee? Oo wanzz ee?”

  “Yes, you. Right now, right here.” The magician firmly pointed the forefinger of his free hand at the top of the table a foot from the buzzing cloud of bees.

  “Oo zurr tha’ ” the demon squeaked as it darted back behind the tomes.

  “I’m sure. Over here. Now.” He continued his soothing brushing at the bees.

  “Ee?” the demon squeaked. But the magician didn’t reply, merely jabbed his pointing finger. The demon sighed with a timbre that belied the squeaking of its words, and clambered to the top of the stack of books, which teetered most threateningly when it bounded from the top of the pile to the end of the table.

  The magician tapped the table where he’d been pointing, and the bald, naked demon slunk hesitantly toward the spot indicated, warily eyeing the bees the entire way. Its gnarled muscles bunched and stretched in exaggeration of human muscular movement.

  “Nectar. Bring many bowls for our tired and hungry friends.”

  “ ‘Annee?” the demon asked, holding up two lumpy fingers.

  The magician solemnly shook his head and held up five fingers. “Many.”

  “ ‘Annee?” The demon unfolded another finger.

  The magician splayed his fingers.

  “ ‘Annee?” The demon held up four fingers but kept his thumb folded.

  The magician swatted at it, but the demon hopped back out of the way. It held up all five fingers. ” ‘Annee. Ee gittum epp?”

  The magician flashed five fingers twice and nodded. “Get help. Many.” He flashed five fingers twice again.

  The little demon’s face screwed up like it was about to cry. It flashed five fingers twice back at the magician, then hopped off the table and scampered from the room. The magician returned his attention to comforting the tired, hungry, bees.

  Sooner than he expected, the door of the tower room slammed open and something at the door gave a menacing grunt.

  “Bring it over here, please,” the magician said without looking around. He pointed at the table next to the formation of bees.

  Another deep grunt was followed by heavy footsteps that shook the floor and caused the table to shiver. Then the last footstep thudded next to the magician and a tray slammed onto the tabletop where he’d pointed.

  The magician gestured and the bees broke formation to feed. He reached out a hand and scratched the troll behind a pointed, tufted ear.

  “Thank you,” he said. “They needed that.”

  The troll keened in pleasure and turned his head so the magician could scratch behind his other ear.

  The magician groaned as well, but not with pleasure. He stopped scratching the troll’s head to suck on his abraded fingertips. He simply had to remember to wear a chain mail glove when scratching a troll’s head.

  At length, sated and rested, the bees resumed their formation. They danced their dance. The individual bees in the cloud hovered, swayed side to side, flitted up and down or to and fro, they curlicued around one another. Every seemingly random movement modulated their buzzing, and the modulations had meaning. The magician listened carefully. He had the bees repeat their message twice to be certain he had it right. Then he thanked them and opened a chest containing an old hive for the bees to live in until more suitable quarters could be found or constructed. Then he ran off to deliver the message.

  When the message reached the Kamazai Commanding, after going through several levels of the magician’s chain of command, then several levels of the KC’s own staff, he considered for a moment, checked his order of battle, and quietly swore.

  “Who’d have thought they would come so close to where we were going?” he said to his aide, who wisely said nothing in reply. “I sent that fool knight north just to get him out of the way. He might be able to effectively put siege to that town, but he probably can’t defeat its home guard, much less the sole bandit band that has caused us any problem.” He looked at his aide, who did his best not to flinch at the look. “I sent no other knights, no other officers with him. The fool is liable to get that entire troop killed if he encounters that bandit band!” The aide swallowed and nodded. The Kamazai Commanding then told his aide which knight to send north with which troops—with a full complement of officers. At greatest speed. With the intent of catching the fool and his mixed troop before they reached that town. Destroy the town first, then hunt down and destroy the bandit band said to be led by two Frangerian Marines.

  Destroy, of course, meant pillage or destroy all property and kill all the people.

  The southern defenses progressed rapidly enough so they were able to spare people to complete the western defenses and strengthen the weak northern ones. The eastern were the weakest, but they didn’t see much reason to defend the eastern approaches to Eikby.

  Three blacksmiths turned out hundreds of caltrops, which were scattered in the near part of the open ground between the fence and the forest. Lanes were left open through them so the defenders could safely counterattack if the opportunity arose. The open lanes were marked, but the marks were disguised so they weren’t obvious from the forest side. The defenses were constructed to conform to the lay of the land.

  “Integrated planning and construction,” Captain Stonearm mused. “I like that.”

  A two-hundred-yard-long, hip-deep, trench was centered on the south road, perpendicular to the funneling fences. Dirt from the trench was used to form a broad berm to its front. More dirt was piled on the berm from a wide knee-deep trench lined with pointed wood stakes that were angled away from the berm. That shallow trench wasn’t studded thickly enough with stakes to stop a charging enemy force, but it would slow it down and cause some casualties. A light latticework covering with ground-hugging legumes made the moat invisible. Between the fence and the trench foot-size pits were dug, each with a short, sharp, stake sticking up from its bottom. All were lightly covered with crawling foliage for camouflage. Lord Gunny Says called the small foot traps “punji traps” and said they had been very effective in wars where he came from. Everybody believed the claim. Markers, visible only from the trench side, revealed the location of the punji traps. No caltrops were scattered inside the fence. Fourscore men—the Eikby guards’ archers, archers from the company, and woodsmen and hunters from the town—were ready to drop their building implements and man the trench when the enemy came into sight. Swords and spears lay with the bows and quivers that stood ready in the trench.

  Ten yards behind the archers’ trench was a row of chest-deep pits where swords- and pikemen would crouch unseen by the attackers and safe from the Jokapcul demon spitters. When the foe was almost on the archers’ trench, these fighters would clamber from the pits and rush forward to join battle with Jokapcul who managed to survive the rain of arrows. When the enemy closed, the archers would retire to the pits where the swords and spears of the attackers couldn’t harm them, and fire at the attackers whenever they had a clear target.

  That was the main plan. Spinner and Haft—and just about everybody else—knew the plan relied on the Jokapcul to be foolish enough to maintain a frontal assault. Lord Gunny Says was quite clear on the fragility of plans.

  “No plan, no matter how good,” the Handbook for Sea Soldiers said emphatically, “ever survives the first shot.”

  With that in mind, they devised a backup plan—but Spinner, Haft, and Fletcher were not at all enthusiastic about what Lord Gunny Says referred to as “Plan B,” no matter how emphatic the book was about a backup plan.

  CHAPTER

  SIXTEEN

  “The bandits are still licking their wounds,” the Eikby hunter named Jakte reported. He was the leader of the group of Eikby hunters and foresters charged with keeping the Rockhold Band under observation in case the bandits got enough reinforcements to mount another attack. “They don’t look like they’re very anxious to come here
again.” He had just come in from three days watching the routed bandits and met the command group inside the western defense works.

  “How many are there now?” Spinner asked.

  “We counted about three score and ten. They don’t have horses for everyone. I guess we scattered them too much in the raid.” He grinned; he’d been one of the Eikby guides who went on the raid.

  “What about women and children?”

  “There are well over a hundred, possibly as many as two hundred. We weren’t as careful about counting them because we didn’t think they are a threat.” A bemused expression came over his face. “If there are enough women and children, the bandits will have too much to do taking care of them to attack Eikby in force.”

  “How far away are they?” Haft asked.

  “Most of a day’s march. Longer at night.”

  “So your information is almost a day old?”

  Jakte smiled and shook his head. “We have horses posted along the way. I rode fast and got here in less than half the time the bandits would take.”

  Spinner and Haft both looked at Silent; he had also set relays of horses on the road to Ceaster. Had one copied the other, or did they both simply know more about horse movement than the two Marines?

  It didn’t matter, they’d both done well.

  “So you don’t think there’s any chance they’ll move on us soon?” Haft asked.

  Jakte shook his head. “They need many more men. What few reinforcements are coming in are coming slowly. Unless there’s a large group coming that we didn’t spot. At the rate they’re building up, it’ll take more than a week for them to raise the strength they need.”

  “What about the east? Is anybody looking there?” Captain Stonearm asked.

  Jakte shook his head.

  “Maybe we should have people scouting to the east. Just in case.” Spinner looked east, to where the forest came close to the town. The defenses there were almost nonexistent.

  Jakte thought for a moment, then said, “There are three men who aren’t already to the northwest. I can send them to the east.”

  “Do it. Then get some rest and a meal and head back out.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll get people out right away.”

  “What does everybody think?” Spinner asked when the hunter was gone.

  “It sounds like we only have to worry about one enemy right now,” Haft replied.

  “Probably so,” Captain Stonearm said.

  “If someone attacks from the east we have problems,” Silent said quietly.

  But they wouldn’t have the people to build up the eastern defenses until the south side was finished. Even then, the western and northern defenses were more important.

  In the middle of the next morning there was a commotion at the south gate. Readying their weapons as they went, the men of the command group ran toward it. But when they could see the gate, they slowed down and eased back on their weapons—two mounted men in forest garb had just been let through and the gate was closing again. Silent, very large and easy to spot, hallooed and waved at them. The two men waved back and turned their horses toward him. The horses were heavily lathered and breathing hard when they arrived. The riders dismounted and handed their reins over to waiting boys. One of the men was Birdwhistle, the other a local forester.

  “They’re coming,” Birdwhistle reported before anyone asked.

  “Are they at Ceaster now?” Spinner asked.

  Birdwhistle nodded. “They took their time surrounding it before they attacked. When we left, most of the village was in flames.” He grimaced. “They were wantonly killing people—men, women, children.” His voice trailed off.

  The others exchanged looks.

  “How many are there?” Haft asked.

  “It’s a good-sized company. Mixed weapons, about forty each swordsmen, pikemen, and bowmen, along with a half troop or more of light cavalry.”

  “Eight or nine score of them,” Captain Stonearm said. “We have,” he grimly looked around, “not more than half that number who know how to fight—plus my guardsmen.”

  “Then we’ll arm all able-bodied men,” Spinner said. “We have extra swords and lances. We can issue them until they run out, and the rest of the able-bodied men can use scythes, hammers, cleavers—anything that can be used as a weapon. After first contact, they can arm themselves from Jokapcul dead.”

  Stonearm considered that for a moment, then, “I suggest we wait until the Jokapcul are closer before we arm the farmers and tradesmen. If we do that now, they’ll have too much time to think and might get frightened enough to run away.”

  Haft barked out a laugh. “More afraid than the rabbits they already are?” He shook his head, still chuckling.

  “They’ve never been trained, Haft,” Stonearm said sternly. “Anybody who hasn’t been properly trained and isn’t afraid of a fight with seasoned troops is not only a fool, he’s soon to be a dead fool.”

  “Even trained soldiers are often afraid in the face of the Jokapcul,” Spinner added.

  Haft looked at them blankly; he wasn’t afraid of the Jokapcul, he’d beaten them too many times.

  Silent looked away. He didn’t understand the talk of fear. Boys of the steppe nomad tribes began training for war as soon as they could hold a toy sword, from so early an age he could hardly remember a time when he hadn’t been training or fighting.

  They got busy with even more intense drilling of the guard. Fletcher worked closely with Plotniko and Stupnikow in overseeing the workers who were finishing the defenses. Nightbird and the town’s healers set up a hospital pavilion behind the defense works. Then they waited for the next pair of scouts.

  They came not long before sunset.

  “We were surprised how long it took them to reach us,” Meszaros reported. “They must have rested after they destroyed Ceaster.”

  “How fast were they moving?” Spinner asked.

  “They were moving briskly enough when we first saw them, but they stopped soon after. Their commander has a heavy limp, he looks like he has a recent wound and can’t ride far before the pain becomes too great.” Meszaros shook his head. “They set up a small pavilion for him to rest under. We didn’t wait to see how long they’d be there.”

  Kocsokoz and a local forester were the next pair to return, halfway from sunset to midnight. They also reported brisk movement with frequent, lengthy stops. The mixed troop had stopped for the night well before dusk. There were no more reports until the next midmorning, when the Jokapcul company was on the move again. The final pair of scouts was Archer and a local hunter who came in soon after sundown. The Jokapcul had stopped three hours steady march away. Silent took out two new pairs of scouts to bring word when the Jokapcul started again in the morning, or to give warning in case of a night movement.

  The first pair came in two hours after dawn.

  “They took their time getting started,” Takacs reported. “I think their commander thinks he’s invincible.”

  “What is their order of march?” Spinner asked.

  “Swords, pikes, bows. The light cavalry brings up the rear. The commander is behind the swords.”

  “What about scouts?” Haft asked.

  The Eikby forester spoke for the first time. “They have four swords patrolling a hundred meters ahead, two swords and two bows fifty yards out on each flank.” He spat to the side. “I’ve never served in an army—or even a guard—but even I know that’s not good enough for a company moving through enemy territory. Not as openly as they’re walking along that road.”

  “What about magicians?” from Xundoe.

  “Some of the soldiers carried the big demon spitters, but we didn’t see any magicians.” Takacs looked at the forester who nodded agreement.

  “What was their attitude?”

  Takacs barked out a laugh. “Bored. They act like they’re on a training march.” Then very seriously he added, “But we know how dangerous the Jokapcul can be even on a training march.”

>   “Assemble the troops,” Haft suddenly said to Fletcher and Stonearm. “All of them. We can send out an ambush in force and wipe out these Jokapcul while they’re on the move.”

  Stonearm looked at him, surprised.

  “Stop!” Spinner snapped before Fletcher could move or Stonearm speak. “If we had a hundred archers and we could catch them in the open, I’d say yes. But we don’t outnumber them by enough, and nearly half of our troops are less than half trained.”

  Silent smiled wryly and shook his massive head. “You’re being impetuous, Haft.”

  “An ambush will work,” Haft insisted. “We can begin by hitting them with fifty archers. Then, while they’re trying to figure out where the arrows are coming from, we smash into them with forty horse. And we still have more than forty foot to rush in and finish them off!”

  “Who will defend Eikby while all our forces are away?” Stonearm demanded with great heat.

  “Defend against who? The bandits aren’t coming, not now—maybe not ever.”

  “We don’t know that.” Silent put a firm hand on Haft’s shoulder. “Other bandits could already be on their way.”

  “But Jakte said the bandits aren’t ready. Besides—” Haft began to wave at the defenses being built.

  “No buts,” Spinner said, stepping in front of Haft. “Four of us say we don’t send out an ambush in force. You’re the only one who wants to. So we don’t.”

  Haft ducked from under Silent’s hand and glared from one to the other of the four who opposed him. “Then what do you think we should do when that Jokapcul company arrives?”

  “Fight from behind the defenses,” Spinner said. He sidestepped to stay in front of Haft. “The caltrops will stop a lot of them before they reach the fences. Then the fences will stop their horsemen for our archers to pick off, and they’ll slow down their foot as well. We set archers a bow’s range from the fences and shoot at them while they’re getting through it. Our horse and foot array behind the archers. We can bring down many of them before they close with us, then our swords- and pikemen come out to fight. The only way their archers can get close enough to shoot at us is to put themselves in range of our archers.”

 

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