by Craig Zerf
The massed Orcs kept their formations well, even over the rough ground that they had to cover. The trip in the buggy was not too onerous, although Ammon did have to have some stern words with the Orcs when they lurched a little over the rougher parts of the track.
Then they breasted a rise and got their first view of the Annihilator camp. Grim-son had been correct; there were no more than three thousand of the insectoid creatures. But this was the first time that Ammon had actually seen an Annihilator and he was unprepared for the sight. With their gaudy armor and bladed appendages they were a truly formidable sight and the Fair-Folk commander felt a flutter of nervous fear ripple through him.
The Annihilators reacted immediately as they caught sight of the massed ranks of Orcs approaching. Smoothly and without any signs of panic the Annihilators formed up, facing the Orc army.
Ammon turned to Seth. ‘Mage, sound the attack. Orcs to form up in ranks twenty five deep and two thousand wide. Approach at a slow trot.’
The mage drew in power and used it to enhance his voice. His order to advance at a trot boomed across the valley and the ground shook as over fifty thousand feet struck the earth in time.
Ammon waited for the Orcs to get closer and, when they were five hundred yards from the enemy, he relayed his next order to Seth.
‘Archers, fire,’
The order was relayed and the sky darkened as thousands of arrows were unleashed towards the enemy, momentarily blocking out the sun.
‘Orcs, lock shields.’
The order to lock shields echoed across the valley and there was a resounding crash as fifty thousand steel edged shields banged up tight against each other.
‘Now, charge,’ commanded Ammon.
‘Charge!’ Relayed Seth and the horde broke into a sprint heading towards the three thousand Annihilators.
Ammon nodded to himself as the pageant of war unfolded in front of him. The outcome would be swift and inevitable. The Annihilators would undoubtedly fight back with great skill and valor but they would simply be overwhelmed by the charge. Fifty thousand against three thousand was an advantage that was simply impossible to overcome.
But as the Orcs charged the Annihilators, instead of bracing for the impact, the Roaches split their forces in half and, running at an unbelievable speed, they went left and right, angling backwards as they did so.
At the same time, hundreds of Yari launched themselves into the air and headed towards the charging Orcs.
But Grim-son and his Vandals had been waiting for this and they came screaming out of the sun and slammed into the Yari, shooting their crossbows as they engaged in a wheeling, turning aerial dog fight.
The Annihilators continued to angle away from the Orc charge and, by the time the Orcs had arrived at the area where they had expected to make contact with the enemy, there was no one there and the charge began to lose its impetus.
The Annihilators, who had now completely outflanked the Orcs on both left and right, stopped running, turned and threw themselves at the Fair-Folk army, hitting them from the sides and thereby negating the shield wall.
The ordered ranks of Orcs immediately broke down into a disorganized mêlée as the Roach warriors slashed and cut their way deep into the massed formation.
‘What are they doing?’ Yelled Ammon. ‘Tell the Orcs to wheel. Quickly.’
‘Orcs, wheel left and right,’ relayed Seth.
‘Tell the goblins to fire at the enemy,’ added Ammon in a panic. ‘Now, do it now.’
‘Archers, fire at will,’ communicated Seth.
Arrows rained down on the battling warriors striking Orc and Roach alike. Orcs stumbled over each other as they tried to wheel whilst the Annihilators hacked and cut at them.
Finally every semblance of order fell apart and the battle turned into a primal struggle to kill or be killed. And commander Ammon could do little more than simply watch it unfold.
It happened the Fair-Folk commander was correct in his initial assumption that three thousand cannot beat fifty thousand. As the battle wore on the sheer weight of Orc numbers brought the Annihilators to heel, wearing them out and, eventually, dispatching every last one of them.
The victory cost commander Ammon almost twenty thousand troops. Eighteen thousand Orcs and two thousand goblin archers. A kill ratio of around eight-to-one against him. He shuddered to think what would happen if there had been five or six thousand Annihilators because, if truth be told, he probably would have still attacked, believing that a ten to one advantage would be sufficient. And then he might have lost.
This one relatively small skirmish had convinced Ammon that he had made the correct decision when he ordered the Fair-Folk to remain out of the Human-Annihilator battles as much as possible.
It also proved something else. According to his intelligence reports, the human warriors were achieving a kill ratio against the Roaches of around five to one in the human’s favor. That meant that, if they ever took it into their heads to gamble everything on an all out push against the Fair-Folk it would be a close run thing, even though the Fair-Folk grossly outnumbered them. And that fact got commander Ammon to start on some serious thinking.
Chapter 28
Nathaniel’s plan was working. Slowly and inexorably the Annihilators were being drawn closer, hunting down the small bands of human raiders and subtly avoiding any major confrontation with the hundreds of thousands of Orcs and goblins driving north.
The Roach plan was obvious, they would overcome the dwindling and desperate human opposition, consolidate at the wall and then turn all of their attention to the approaching Fair-Folk army.
It was a good plan, tactically sound. It’s only negative was that it was exactly what Nathaniel wanted them to do. But they had no way of knowing that.
Tad had taken to avoiding the marine, speaking to him only when necessary. Since the Little Big Man had first brought it up that he believed the youthful commando groups were taking unnecessary losses and Nathaniel had overruled him, Tad had become very uncommunicative. He did all that he was told and more, he simply spent as little time with the marine as possible.
Nathaniel decided that he had to do something about the state of affairs and he sent for Tad, asking him to meet him on the wall.
The Little Big Man arrived, saluted and then stood at ease, waiting.
‘So formal, my friend?’ Asked Nathaniel.
‘I live but to serve, sire,’ answered Tad.
‘Oh cut it out,’ replied Nathaniel. ‘Get off your high horse and stop acting like an ass. What’s your problem?’
Tad said nothing.
‘Come on,’ insisted Nathaniel. ‘Speak freely.’
‘We have now lost over a thousand young men on our commando raids,’ said Tad.
‘So?’ Replied Nathaniel.
‘So,’ said Tad. ‘We could have avoided that.’
‘We have already discussed this.’
‘No we haven’t,’ said Tad. ‘I brought it up and you ignored me. Because of us, innocents are dying.’
‘There are no innocents in war,’ snapped Nathaniel.
‘Oh don’t be so glib,’ said Tad. ‘We’re not talking in sound bites here. This is reality. Kids are going out, they’re not experienced enough and their inexperience is getting them killed.’
‘They are not kids,’ said Nathaniel. ‘They are over sixteen. Most are around nineteen. The average age of the combat soldier in Vietnam was nineteen. In the American War of Independence, boys as young as fifteen fought. There are no innocents. There are no children. There are only soldiers and I am their commander. I am their leader. I am their king and they shall do as I command. As will you.’
There was an uncomfortable silence as both men glowered at each other.
Finally Tad spoke. And when he did so his face showed the depth of his emotion. ‘You’re right,’ he said. His voice barely above a whisper. ‘I know that it has to be done, it’s just that I can’t handle it. Watching those youngsters go out ever
y day, full of thoughts of glory and duty and then returning all bloodied and dying and cut to pieces. I simply don’t think that I can handle it anymore. So I blame you, it’s easier.’
Nathaniel put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. ‘That’s fine,’ he said. ‘I don’t mind accepting the blame; after all, it was my order. But don’t let the boys see your despair. If they are going to die let them die with honor. With glory. Rather than in fear. Give them something to die for, and in doing so you may help them to actually live longer.’
Tad nodded. ‘I will try.’
‘Good,’ said Nathaniel. ‘It won’t be for much longer. Days. No more.’
Tad left the wall, forcing his head high as he went to motivate the next group of commandos leaving on their raid.
Chapter 29
The Annihilator army had been massing for the last four days, meeting at a site three miles from the wall. Nathaniel had sent word, via Vandal flyers, to commander Ammon, urging him to speed up his advance. The Annihilators will attack at any moment, he had said. Your presence is imperative. Together we shall crush them, the wall shall be the anvil and you shall be the hammer.
Ammon had heeded the call and now he had over five hundred thousand Orcs and goblins positioned in a semi-circle a mile away from the Annihilator camp.
The sun rose at five forty two the next morning. The sky was clear and a cold wind blew from the south east. The ground was covered with a thin blanket of snow. White, crystalline and clean. A wedding dress laid out for a virgin bride. Or maybe a linen shroud, pure and unsullied, readied to wrap the body of a loved one.
And before the wall, standing in ordered ranks, stood over sixty thousand Annihilators. Behind them were ten thousand flying Yari, ready to take to the air and rain steel death down on the wall.
Nathaniel stood next to Tad, and Orc sergeant Kob, looking out over the enemy.
‘End game,’ he said.
Tad nodded. ‘I know that this may be a little too late to ask but, do you think that we have enough firepower to win this thing?’
The marine shrugged. ‘All depends. If we can keep them packed together enough for the machine guns to have a real effect. If enough Vandals can get through the Yari cover to drop the grenades and the fire bombs. If the rubber heads ensure that their goblins put a serious quantity of arrows into the air. If, if, if. Well, yes, maybe. Who knows?’
Tad laughed. ‘Good. I’m glad that you cleared that up. I was confused before.’
Nathaniel joined in with his laughter. ‘You know what its like,’ he said. ‘Every plan goes to crap the moment the battle starts. But, let me put it this way – I wouldn’t have put so much at risk, lost so many lives and spent so long getting to this point of I didn’t truly believe that we had a good chance of pulling it off.’
Tad nodded. ‘Well, that’s good enough for me.’
Kob grunted. ‘Battle is battle. Plans are only a suggestion that lasts until the sound of the first clash of blades.’
‘Very philosophical,’ said Tad, sarcastically.
Kob did not deign to answer.
The sun rose above the trees, a huge crimson orb that painted the virgin snow with a wash of red, a forerunner of the blood that would soak the earth ere the day was over.
The Annihilators started to rub their bladed forearms together, producing a high pitched screech.
‘Time to sing, boys,’ shouted Tad as he lifted his voice, singing in a clear tenor. The humans joined in as one.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword:
His truth is marching on.
Ten Thousand Yari took to the wing, rising up into the clear morning sky. As did the three thousand Vandal fighters that had been hiding in the treetops. The Yari drove hard, trying to get enough height to drop their steel darts. But, within seconds the vandals were on to them, firing their crossbows and throwing their nets to entangle the enemy and drive them back to earth.
With an ear shattering shriek the Annihilators started forward, fanning out as they ran, ladders at the ready.
Nathaniel had placed the four Vickers guns one hundred yards apart on the top of the wall.
The six Bren guns had been situated outside the wall, secreted in the forest to the right and left of the Annihilator charge. With the Bren guns, hidden in the forest, were two thousand cavalry, also split into two teams divided to the left and right of the Roach charge. Out of those two teams sixty were armed with Thompson and Sten sub machine guns and Colt 45’s.
The four mortars were placed well back from the wall, as there was no reason for them to be exposed and Nathaniel had already sighted them in, ready to fire at his command.
On the top of the wall he also had ten men armed with the sub machine guns and Colts, including the one 45 that he had kept for himself, tucked into his belt.
‘When are we going to fire?’ Asked Tad.
‘Not yet,’ answered Nathaniel. ‘They’re still too spread out. We need Ammon to start to close the circle. Bunch them up. Until that happens we just have to push them back off the wall the old fashioned way.’
The marine concentrated and pulsed a message to Seth, the Fair-Folk mage, urging him to move the Orcs forward to force the Annihilator ranks together, thus providing a denser target area. The mage pulsed back that he would relay the message.
By this time the charging Annihilators were almost at the wall.
‘Archers!’ Shouted Nathaniel. ‘Fire at will.’
A deluge of cloth yard shafts rained down on the front rows of the Annihilators, smashing through their exoskeletons and driving hundreds to the ground. But the next row picked up the ladders and ran over their fallen comrades.
Over one hundred ladders were thrown up against the walls and the Roaches swarmed up to be met with a frantic human defense. The humans all knew that this was the last battle, win or lose, and they were literally throwing themselves at the enemy.
Such was the fervor of the human defense that the ladders were cleared from the wall and the initial rows of attackers dispatched within a few minutes.
But the Annihilators were made of stern stuff and the next ranks picked up the ladders and resumed the attack. The humans fought back desperately with swords and axe and dagger. Nathaniel had given strict orders that no firearms could be used until he had given his express order as he did not want to show his hand too early.
Again the Roaches were repelled and again they gathered for the next attack.
Nathaniel pulsed Seth again. ‘Listen,’ he urged. ‘We need some help here. Get your archers to rake the back ranks with arrows, take some of the heat off us. And then tighten the circle, for God’s sake. I need the Roaches to be packed together to get the full effect of my ordnance.’
Once again, Seth pulsed back that he would relay the message.
A ladder was thrown against the wall at Nathaniel’s feet and he waited for the first Roach to appear at the top before he brained it with his axe and sent it plummeting backwards, taking three others with it as it fell. Then the marine put his foot against the top of the ladder and pushed hard, thrusting it back into the massed ranks of enemy warriors.
All along the wall similar resistance was occurring and, for the first time, the Annihilators retreated in good order to properly regroup. As it happened, the last assault had sorely tested the human resistance, pushing it to its limit. The men were tired beyond belief after throwing back three consecutive and concentrated attacks. It was lucky however, that the Annihilators were as exhausted, and had to regroup.
‘Seth!’ Pulsed Nathaniel. ‘Now. Advance now.’
‘What are they doing?’ Asked Tad. ‘Where are the Orcs? Where is the goblin arrow storm? What the hell is going on?’
Nathaniel peered over the ranks of the Annihilators and looked at the distant masses of Orcs. He shook his he
ad. ‘They’re doing nothing,’ he said.
Kob pointed. ‘Look, I think that they are starting to move.’
‘Well, if they are, they are doing it so slowly as to make no difference,’ snapped Nathaniel.
‘What now?’ Asked Tad. ‘Our boys can’t take much more of this.’
Nathaniel glanced up, the sky was still full of cart wheeling, spinning and falling bodies as the Yari as the Vandals continued their fight. On the ground the Annihilators were almost back into rank formation and it would be a mere few minutes before the next charge. The marine took a deep breath and made his decision.
First he contacted the teenager that was sitting with the ground support Vandals, waiting for Nathaniel’s command.
‘Fly,’ he pulsed. ‘Grenade and bomb attack as soon as possible. Watch out for bogies above, there is still a strong Yari presence but that can’t be helped. Do what you can.’
‘Next he pulsed the leaders of the cavalry directly, using a physic link that he had established earlier. ‘Cavalry. Slight change of plan. On my command I want you to charge the enemy flanks. Come in on a broad front. We need to compact them together as much as possible. God speed, gentlemen, we shall meet afterwards for a drink. They’ll be on me.’
Finally he pulsed his machine gunners and mortar operators. ‘On my command, a fireball in the air, you rain down fire. Good hunting, chaps.’
Then Nathaniel turned to Tad and held out his hand. The Little Big Man shook it.
‘To the end, my friend,’ said Nathaniel.
‘To the end,’ returned Tad.
Then they stood silent for a moment, waiting for the Annihilators to commence their charge. As soon as they did, Nathaniel pulled in power to enhance the volume of his voice.
‘Charge!’ The command echoed across the battle field like a crash of thunder.
Two thousand horses came galloping out of the forest in an avalanche of steel and fury. As they closed, the men with the sub machine guns opened up. The effect was instantaneous and the Annihilators reacted with shocked panic as the steel covered lead bullets chewed into them, driving hundreds of warriors back in a welter of blood and chips of carapace.