by E. M. Hardy
Martin tapped the chin of his walker, lost in thought. “Do you think I can hold my walkers out in the bunkers and tunnels I dug out, cut off their supply lines and starve them out?”
“Won’t work,” shot back the diminutive woman, as she tapped the black turtle-helmet she clutched on her hip, which was so new it still smelled of glue and lacquer instead of mud and sweat. “I’ve been talking with my commanders, and the khanates don’t rely on supply trains like our troops. No, those spare mounts are their supplies. Not only are the grass peoples tough and hardy, but they can go raiding for months just on mare’s milk and blood before slaughtering the weaker animals for their meat. I agree with my commanders when they say that it’s better to delay the raiders, buy time for reinforcements from the capital to make their way up here. You did say that the war with the Shogun is all but wrapped up, yes?”
Martin would have smiled with his walker if he could. It would appear that Lian Lin was not the type to hog all the glory, making it clear that she got all her information from the people under her new command. It was a refreshing change of pace, if Martin could have been honest.
“Yes,” Martin confirmed. “I’ve diverted some walkers and scarabs on the way to the eastern front, but it’ll take them at least three weeks to arrive. Shen Feng and Bai Yu will need two whole months to make it all the way here to the steppes, or at least a month to get back to the Imperial heartland. The Empress, however, is sending a company of about eighty chang-gun riders that should arrive within a week. Their ability to shoot arrows from the sky ought to help out here, buy more time for the reserves from the capital to arrive at the same time as my constructs.”
“Don’t rely on them too heavily,” countered General Lian Lin. “Even though the Grass People are no samurai with their blood-bows, they still have a lot of excellent mounted archers in their ranks. Those chang-gun riders get too low, and I guarantee they’re going to eat arrows. They can only stay aloft for a few hours at a time as well, even less when they have to concentrate on both flying and shooting.”
Lian Lin spun her shining new helmet on its axis as she twisted her lips in thought. “Well, at least your eyeballs are keeping a constant watch on their movements. The mobility of khanate riders was always their biggest asset, constantly shifting positions and striking where their enemies least expect them to. With your eyeballs though, we’ll always know where they’re going and what they’re going to hit. They’ve helped my riders block their scouts at every step of the way, denying them information about what to expect.”
“Yeah,” replied Martin as he took in the sight of thousands upon thousands of horsemen making their way through the Grass Sea. Some were lightly armored with lacquered leather, carrying composite bows on their persons. Others were heavily armed and armored, bearing long lances and adorned with iron lamellar armor. “At least we can send our forces up to wherever they’re headed. Guess maybe that’s why they decided to reconnoiter in force this time around. They probably got tired of having their scouts chased away by your riders. The little walls ought to slow them down quite a bit.”
“The little walls?” Lian Lin asked, as she stared at Martin’s walker with narrowed eyes. “Ah, yes. My commanders have mentioned that you’ve been fortifying the border. That’s a tall order, even during times of peace and plenty. Exactly what kind of fortifications have you been making?”
Martin really wished his walkers had a mouth, for he would have loved to flash Lian Lin a wicked little grin of his own.
***
“This is stupid.”
“It ain’t stupid if it works.”
“No, it’s still stupid. Absolutely stupid. Brain-meltingly stupid… even if I am thoroughly impressed by what you and your little dolls have done here.”
She wasn’t alone in her opinions, judging by the hanging mouths, low whistles, and concerned whispering among Lian Lin’s escorts. There, in front of them, stood a nondescript clay fence. It wasn’t even a proper wall, considering it stood at just three feet tall—the height of one of Martin’s dolls. Its extent, however, was nothing to laugh at. The fence spanned the entire border separating the Imperial’s northern provinces from the Grass Sea. It went on and on and on, as far as the eye could see.
Yet, what truly boggled the mind was the presence of multiple other ‘little walls’ running parallel to each other. A dozen clay fences crisscrossed the landscape, intersecting with one another at small bunkers and towers.
“What in ancestors were you thinking when you came up with this… this abomination?”
“Eh. I knew there was no way I could build a wall tall or strong enough to keep thousands of raiders out of Imperial territory. It would simply take too long considering the length of these plains. I might be able to put up a single well-fortified fortress, maybe two, with tall walls for a few miles around. Won’t be enough to cover the entire border though, meaning a horde can just easily ride around these forts. My dolls could, however, very easily put up shorter fences like these in no time at all. It took them four months to set all this up.”
“Four months? Across hundreds of miles? Are you serious?”
“Quite serious, General Lian Lin, and the Little Walls are actually five thousand miles long. A single doll could in one day shape a half-mile-long fence on its own before moving out to the next segment. No need for scaffolding or for teams of dolls to carry one another, like how they build larger infrastructure like forts or obelisks. A small swarm of about two thousand dolls working day and night, and there stand the fences and ditches before you. Given enough time and material, I could fill these fences out to form a proper Great Wall if it’s needed.”
The newly-appointed general nodded, absently clutching the sleeve of her empty left arm. “Don’t sell yourself short, for these little walls of yours are still impressive. But I have to say that these fences are not going to keep the coming hordes out, that’s for certain. Three feet tall? Hells, their people would just probably vault over the walls, ditch or no ditch.” Lian Lin narrowed her eyes and grinned as a thought came up. “Ah, but the little walls aren’t meant to keep anyone out, aren’t they? You just want to slow them down, buy enough time for the nearby settlements to evacuate while reinforcements arrive.”
“Exactly,” Martin replied, as he nodded with his walker, pleased at the observation. “We’re not going to bother trying to hold them off at the walls. We’ll let the fences and the ditches do that job for us. They’ll have to dismount and break down those walls if they want to lead their mounts through them, fill up the ditches or lay down planks. Then they’ll have to cross through a few narrow points instead of riding out in a massive wave.”
“That ought to buy us a day or two of delay, three at most. Yet, I somehow suspect that’s not all you have in mind.”
“Yup. These walls are also going to keep the horde penned in for when reinforcements arrive. We send in our forces to recapture any positions they take, reseal the gaps they open. I’ve got tunnels connecting those bunkers together. I didn’t dig out ventilation shafts for your people, but my walkers can easily pop out when needed. I’ll then close the little walls around the horde while your people get into position. My walkers can clear out anyone they leave behind to watch the gaps while your mounted troops come in to pen in anyone trying to ride away. My dolls can then move in after the fighting is done, reseal the gaps, add a few extra layers wherever the horde decides to punch through to make their breakout just a little bit harder.”
Lian Lin nodded at Martin’s words, her grin widening with each word before breaking out in a soft chuckle. “Sounds good, but still doesn’t change the fact at how amazingly stupid all this is. The Little Walls, indeed.”
“No countering you there,” Martin responded with a chuckle of his own. “But hey, if it works…”
“We shall see.”
***
“Why aren’t they pushing through?”
“Looks like they’re being cau
tious,” Martin shot back, wearily, as he observed the scene with his eyeballs. “A couple of scouts have already vaulted the walls, checked the area for traps. One of them found a bunker and is calling a few others to check it out with her.”
Martin watched the three khans of this horde ride up beside one another, seemingly lost in argument. One khan pointed with a finger and gestured wildly while another one waited for a moment before shaking his head. The third khan, however, turned his eyes upward toward the small cluster of eyeballs keeping watch over the khanate horde. This khan called his other fellows to attention. He pointed a long finger at his eyeballs before pointing that same finger at the little walls. The three khans closed their heads in together for a few more minutes before they called for messengers.
“Huh,” whispered Martin in surprise, as he watched the army come to life.
“What?” an agitated Lian Lin barked out eagerly. The general and her forces were positioned a good ways away from the khanate horde, too far for her to see what was going on. She had to rely on Martin’s reports for information, and she was quite eager to know what was going on.
“They’re not breaking through the walls.”
“They aren’t?”
“No. They’re… they’re building a bridge atop the walls? What, they’re actually building a bridge? No, wait. They’re just putting down planks. Looks like a small force is assembling behind the makeshift bridge. Just a few dozen horses and riders while the rest are placing down cots and milking their spare mounts.”
The one-armed general looked at Martin with quirked brows, then whistled low as she let a sigh escape her lips. “Scouts, no doubt about it. I’ll send my riders to harass them, pen them in and deny information for as long as they can.”
“You think they’re scared?”
“Scared? No, more like they’re being cautious.” Lian Lin paused, her mouth still open as she hummed in thought. “On second thought, they might be scared. They know you’ve been monitoring them for days now with your eyeballs. They’re used to attacking with impunity, of being able to ride in and then ride out before their enemies know what hit them. Even in pitched battle, they rely heavily on screening their heavy cavalry so they can strike where the enemy least expects them to. With you watching everything, however, I am positive they do not feel moving about as confidently as they used to.”
“I guess,” Martin finally admitted. It was his turn to think things over now. “Huh. Has anyone tried talking to them in the first place?”
Lian Lin replied with a simple quirk of her brow.
***
“Ho, down there!” Martin shouted out in the shared tongue of the Grass Peoples. His eyeball hovered just above the assembled horde of the three khans. The soldiers below reacted by nocking arrows and loosing them at the floating orb. It ducked and swerved, avoiding a few well-shot arrows that almost grazed the basketball-sized sphere. “Don’t shoot! I just want to talk!” The soldiers continued shooting arrows, and Martin felt relief from the eyeball as he instructed it to fly a little bit higher. His eyeball circled well beyond bow range, until one of the khans came rushing along, swatting down hands.
Judging things to be a little bit safer, Martin sent the eyeball down. He kept a wary eye on the nearby archers, who still had arrows nocked on their bows as he approached the khan with the hands on his hips. The man stood tall, his chin held up high with a wispy bread knotted into one long braid. His eyes were—
“Martin Fuller of the faceless men! I am Khan Hobogetur of the Shining Horde, and I claim the first strike for myself!”
The khan suddenly drew a dagger from his belt and flung it at the eyeball—striking it squarely on the lens.
“What the hell, man!?” Martin managed to blurt out from the eyeball, as it flew blindly up into the air. The eyeball registered a few hits from other arrows, two glancing off its sphere and another striking at the perfect angle to burrow deep into the sphere. The construct lost power and spiraled down into the cheering armies of the khan.
***
“And that is why nobody tries talking to a khanate horde when it’s riding out to war.”
“‘I claim the first strike for myself?’ What kind of cheesy one-liner is that!?” whined Martin, his displeasure evident in the tone of his voice. “And how did he know my name in the first place? He didn’t even give me the chance to introduce myself! Hell, he didn’t even give me time to properly scope him out!”
“You do realize that these khans were supported by the Order of Rats, who most likely fed them information about your capabilities?” Lian Lin said, chuckling at Martin’s outburst.
“Argh,” he grumbled incoherently in reply, crossing the arms of his walker as he continued monitoring the horde camp.
The two other khans rushed into the scene, arriving just in time to find Hobogetur carving out a chunk of the eyeball’s lens. The arrogant khan laughed at the others, probably deriding them for their slowness. The other two khans, however, scowled deeply at Hobogetur’s antics. One of the khans, the apparently cautious one, pointed at the other eyeballs orbiting the sky above them. The other nameless khan nodded his head, apparently agreeing with the cautious one, while Hobogetur shook his head. The trio devolved into an argument, gesturing wildly at each other.
“They’re arguing?” Lian Lin commented, as Martin finished narrating what he saw. “Hmm. The other two must be more shaken by the constant surveillance than this Hobogetur.”
“And since they’re not interested in talking, why don’t we give them a little extra something to worry about?”
***
Twenty teams of ten Khanate scouts each ranged out of the horde encampment, spreading in all directions south of Martin’s little walls. They scouted smart, stringing men and horses in a loose line. They rode close enough together to keep watch over one another but far apart enough to make a quick break for it if they encountered trouble. They brought along multiple spare mounts, ready to swap them out for a prolonged gallop if they needed to flee. Their main responsibility was to bring much-needed information to the khans—routes to take, opposition to crush, targets to raid. Even the loss of an entire scouting team was information in and of itself, telling the khans to expect heavy opposition in the direction where the scouting team was lost.
None of them returned to the khanate camp soon enough to make a difference.
Lian Lin’s two thousand horsemen may have been outnumbered by the hordes camping behind the little walls, but they were more than enough to surround and overwhelm the scouting parties. This, coupled with the information provided by the eyeballs, ensured that each and every one of the scouting teams was intercepted before they could make their way back to the camp.
The scouts would normally be able to get away, especially since they brought extra mounts with them. However, Lian Lin’s cavalry would simply ride in behind the scouts and cut them off from the horde. The khanate scouts would then spread out in all directions, make their way back to the camp in a roundabout manner. Martin’s eyeballs, however, kept careful track of every single one of them. Lian Lin’s riders prioritized those trying to circle back to the khanate camp, eventually intercepting them and cutting them off before they could return. After all, there was no place to hide when riding out on the open plains.
The only way the scouts could escape was to ride deeper into Imperial territory in a bid to lose their Imperial pursuers. Many riders managed to do so, but could never manage to go back to the camp without being intercepted by Lian Lin’s riders. They were left alone for the most part, but the Imperial cavalry pounced on them the moment they tried to meet back up with the horde. The scouts that tried to sneak through other sections of the little walls were instantly set upon by teams of walkers Martin positioned in hidden bunkers and tunnel complexes. Those that made it through the Little Walls were eventually captured by the few horsemen Lian Lin left behind on the other side of the little walls.
A week passed be
fore the khans finally accepted the loss of all their scouting teams—a week that bought enough time for the chang-gun riders to arrive from the capital.
Martin shifted a fragment of his consciousness over to the eyeball escorting the newly-arrived riders, informing them on the location of the nearest set of scouts, when the khanate horde broke up camp and began moving south. They had spent the last week breaking down wide sections of the Little Walls, filling up the ditches with dirt and gravel. They had also demolished the nearest bunkers, collapsed the tunnels they could find, and left behind a sizeable force to guard the breach. One of the khans, the cautious one, ended up arguing with the other two. Hobogetur and the other khan looked like they enjoyed goading and mocking the cautious one. The cautious one clearly bristled at their insults and ended up joining the march south, his explanations and justifications falling on deaf ears.
This was the moment when the khanate raid into Imperial lands began in earnest.
Chapter 22
Lian Lin’s riders and their mounts were exhausted after chasing away the scouts for so long. They were skilled at their jobs, but even their chi-infused bodies could not sustain their extended pace for so long. This meant that the khanate hordes were free to range as far and wide as they pleased, to exert control wherever they went. Some of the scouts they sent ahead were able to regroup with the horde as it rode south, share their reports the moment they got back into formation.
Martin chuckled at the sight of Hobogetur throwing a tantrum after hearing what his scouts had to say.
The Renese had had plenty of time to evacuate the small towns and even smaller settlements around the northern reaches of the Empire. Martin had spotted the riding horde deep inside the Grass Seas, a week and a half before they could make their way to Imperial territory. The delay at the little walls and the inability of the scouts to relay their reports to the horde bought another week. Two and a half weeks was more than enough time for Martin to send eyeballs to spread word about an impending khanate raid.