Well, sometimes you can talk yourself into good fortune and sometimes your woman is just too tired. We put Tinker in between us, kissed and went to sleep
.***
The King of the Greys was furious. He stomped around his tent, snarling and pushing over braziers and tables. His poor slave had endured several slaps already and this night gave every indication that more were coming.
How could Gann, one of his bravest and brightest, have been so stupid? Why had no one stopped him? What good did it do him to have the most intelligent of his people around him if they were going to engage in such reckless behavior? He looked out through the flaps of his tent to see the city walls. First his raiders had been telling stories of wraiths that crept into their camps at night and cut their throats. Then the humans had launched that cowardly attack on their flank and had killed over a thousand of their number. The only revenge he had had for that was consuming the fallen humans for dinner that night. Karr had long ago done away with the belief that eating those killed in battle was bad luck. With numbers as large as this army such niceties were not possible. Indeed, even his own fallen fighters were butchered and served at the fires when necessary. It was the only way to keep everyone fed. And even with that it was becoming more and more difficult to accomplish it. If the machines he had been promised were not delivered and assembled soon they would have to select the weakest among them and put them into the pots. It had been done before.
When Karr had arrived at the threshold of this city he had already announced to a gathering of his fighters that they would be joining up with their heroic advance guard who had been keeping the cowardly human food bottled up inside their walls. Instead they found the entire collection of their raiders hacked and burned and thrown into a huge ditch like garbage. The bodies had been so badly burned and decomposed that they could not even be used as food. That discovery was an especially bad one. Karr had been forced to have his officers keep the bulk of his horde out of the area so that the grisly sight could not be seen and reported to others. There was no way to frame that event as anything but a devastating loss. He felt that his efforts in keeping the secret were only partially successful. Nothing moved faster through an army’s ranks than bad news.
But this last thing was personally hurtful to Karr. Besides his army’s numbers, the only thing his horde had going for them was the belief that they were so much more powerful than the humans. The food. But now…now they had witnessed a woman best one of their fighters in fair combat. A woman! And that…thing. The huge human with the thick legs and arms, killing three of them by himself, including Gann. Gann had been respected by the horde as a ferocious fighter. He had been feared. Karr had not seen the fight but he had been told of it. And those who told him of it had fear in their eyes. Fear was a weapon that Karr was accustomed to having on his side. Now they would fear the human who had killed not just Gann but also two others by himself. And they would wonder how many more like him lurked behind those damnable walls. How many female hellions like the one who was victorious today?
Karr kicked a table and winced as it turned out to be heavier than he had judged. His foot throbbed and he looked around to take out his rage on his slave but the servant had wisely withdrawn to the privy.
Well, someone would have to pay for Gann’s stupidity, Karr thought. And the payment must be witnessed by all and it must be impressive enough that none would dare attempt to do anything so foolish again.
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
Commander
The next morning I walked up the steps to the war room after slowly kissing Dwan goodbye. She had a rare morning off and was eager to sleep it away. My forehead was now a festive shade of purple on one side but it looked worse than it felt. I walked into the observation room to find Vynn and Mag-Gan there. Bright sunlight filled the room from the large window array. We all exchanged warm greetings before they handed me a telescope and pointed at the window wall. Through the lens I saw a row of ten wooden posts that had been sunk into the ground over at the edge of the defense trough. Each post held the skinned carcass of a Grey One.
“I think their king has decided that actions such as yesterday will no longer be allowed to happen,” Vynn opined.
Mag-Gan laughed. “I am much in favor of his actions. Let us try to determine many more ways to inspire him to kill more of his own fighters.”
We chatted a while before I asked what they were doing in the war room.
“Ruguer sent word for me to report,” Vynn answered. Mag-Gan nodded, indicating that such was the case for him as well.
We resumed our mindless and unimportant chatter before being interrupted when the King’s Sword entered. We all went to attention and saluted. He waved us to a table up front by the observation window. Ruguer stole a brief look out at the enemy camp before sitting. “Absolutely incredible,” he said, shaking his head. He then looked at each of us in turn.
“Good Warriors I am making some changes in my staff and the structure of our forces.” He smiled. “I am dividing the Olvion Army into four groups.” He pointed to Vynn. “You will command the first division.” Vynn’s eyes widened.
“I know,” Ruguer said. “There are those senior to you in rank. But I am putting command of our forces under warriors who have demonstrated an ability to actually take it to the enemy and prevail. Your record of combat successes is impressive. A promotion for you has been too long in coming. This is just a little larger jump than you might have expected were we not at war.” He signaled a waiting steward for tea then resumed. “The men over whom I have promoted you are excellent tacticians and every one of them is a genius or nearly so. They will be invaluable as your lieutenants and you would do well to heed their counsel. But I have decided we need field experience more than military theory. I am aware that one comes out of every combat situation with a thousand bits of knowledge that can only be learned under those circumstances. I think that particular knowledge is just what we need with the odds being so long against us. I pray I’m right.”
Our military commander stood and looked again out to the enemy position. He inclined his head toward them.
“They have something in mind. I don’t know what it is. But I can feel it.”
He came back and sat again at the table. “They can’t penetrate the city walls and they can’t leave us behind and advance on the coastal kingdoms with their rear exposed to attack. They have an enormous advantage in numbers but the only thing that allows them to do right now is set a siege. We can sit here for at least two years with our provision stockpiles. Our water comes from underground aquifers. The supply is limitless. I just can’t decipher what they are planning.” Shaking his head he looked straight at Mag-Gan.
“Mag-Gan I need you to take the second division. Tag-Gar, you take the third. You will incorporate your rangers into your force but keep them separate for any special efforts if you feel the need.”
The tea arrived and we all took a mug. My head was swimming with the news and the new responsibilities. I was certain Mag-Gan and Vynn felt the same way. I spooned honey into my mug and stirred as Ruguer continued.
“Before today we would have divided our people into groups according to their weapons expertise. Swordsmen in one group, archers and javelins in another and cavalry off to the side. I’m changing that.
“The cavalry will stay separate and I will command them as I always have. I will also retain overall command of our forces. But the remaining assets will be divided equally among you. Tag-Gar has some interesting ideas about combining the strengths of all the different types of warriors to make the sum of the whole greater than the parts. I want you to confer with him. Listen to his ideas and give him your advice. In two weeks I want a plan, agreed to by all of you, to attack the Greys in the field.”
We all gaped at each other and our commander. This was new. We had no plans to attack until we received reinforcements from the coast. What did Ruguer know that we did not? He noted our expressions and smiled.
“Relax, warriors. I anticipate no reckless actions. But I have never been one to sit around waiting for a situation to arise before devising a plan to deal with it. The near future may very well present us with a surprise which would result in the need to take the battle to the enemy. I want a plan in place should that happen. Questions?”
Oh yes. We had questions. We sat in that room for hours going back and forth. When Ruguer finally called a halt we had the answers to most of our concerns. The main thing Ruguer wanted from us was novelty. The smaller battles that Olvion had fought before I arrived had given the enemy insights into our tactics. Forewarned is forearmed. If they could predict our actions they could make plans to overcome them. This was not a concern until recently. The greater numbers that the enemy had were usually balanced out by their lack of intelligence and ability to strategize. This particular group was showing increased abilities in those areas.
I caught Ruguer by himself while the others left the room.
“Commander, a word?”
“Of course Tag. Let me guess…you are not certain now of the effectiveness of your suggestions regarding the use of our forces. No?”
I nodded. “Like I said before, I am not a military strategist. These ideas just cropped up in my mind and I brought them to your attention. I don’t really have any idea as to whether they will help us or hurt us.”
The King’s Sword put his arm on my shoulder. He had to look up at me, a condition he was still not accustomed to.
“Tag, let me tell you a secret about being in command. Decisions are not always reached by deliberating for hours at a time and finally having a clear answer occur to you. Decisions are just that…decisions. You make your best guess and go forward. Guess what? Where military decisions are concerned, sometimes you are correct and you live. Sometimes you are mistaken and you die. Our history is full of both situations. Kingdoms have fallen because those in charge were too afraid to take that step. Make a decision and commit to it, Warrior. If we are correct we will celebrate. If not, maybe I’ll see you in your version of paradise. I have studied your suggestions and I have watched you in combat. Whatever happens it will be your best effort. Olvion can ask no more of you.”
I left the war room with a nagging pain in the back of my neck. There was something that Ruguer was not telling us and I feared I might know what it was. We had been sneaking riders out every night through our secret exits to make the runs to the coast and keep tabs on the results of the different parliamentary votes regarding the assignment of resources and personnel to Olvion. I suspected the votes were not inspiring confidence in our commander.
Fear is an infectious little tick. It burrows under the skin and resists all attempts to remove it. The citizens of the coastal kingdoms had been apprised of the situation in Olvion. The most rational thing to do would be to dedicate as many people and resources to stopping the Greys here where the natural advantages of the mountains on either side served to keep them from skirting around the city and attacking the smaller kingdoms. Olvion was at least as large as Archer’s Gate, Aspell and Northland combined. None of them could hope to hold out against attack as well as my adopted city. But fear was sneaking into the collective mindset of the politicians that governed those kingdoms.
What if Olvion fell? Who would protect us, they thought, if most of their warriors were sent away? And if we send all of our fighters to Olvion, how do we know that the other kingdoms will do the same? What if they secretly hold some back? Would they sacrifice the safety of the other kingdoms in order to delay their own destruction?
Once it was dug in, the wound that fear causes soon festers.
I pondered these questions as I made my way to the ground floor dining facility. It was nearing dusk and I had still had nothing in my stomach but tea. But I made a quick detour to the triage clinic to have Dwan accompany me. I told her about Ruguer’s announcement. She was proud of my new position but also afraid. She knew I was not one to lead from behind. But, like all strong Olvioni women, she accepted it.
***
For twenty days Vynn, Mag-Gan and I divided our time between drilling our troops and strategizing together. We started out almost clueless but eventually separated the wheat from the chaff enough to come up with, what we thought, was a novel and effective fighting strategy. Ruguer was consulted every other day. He examined our proposals and added suggestions or explained to us why some of our ideas would not work.
I was happy to see our military commander getting excited about the new tactics. It made me feel much better knowing that a seasoned and brilliant military tactician was feeling good about our prospects.
But not all news was good. There was still no news from the other kingdoms. Our riders had been returning with reports that some major factions were fighting the idea of making our stand in Olvion as opposed to the coast. One division held to the stupid belief that the Greys, after suffering tremendous losses from their defeat of our kingdom, might then split into three groups and attack each coastal kingdom with much reduced strength. The problem with that idea was obvious; it was more wishful thinking than realistic analysis. Not to mention the fact that Olvion was considered to be expendable should such a plan be adopted. But still, there were those who advocated that course of action. Military leaders in all three kingdoms were said to be fighting hard against the isolationist forces and urging immediate reinforcements be sent but were hitting a stone wall with the politicians.
Also troubling was the fact that in the last few days we had seen Grey patrols sneaking closer and closer to the city walls on all sides. They were not crazy or stupid enough to get within archer range but they were making it more difficult to sneak our riders in and out of the city. I sent Pulg out on three night raids to show our little grey friends the errors of their ways. I wanted to lead them myself but Ruguer had reminded me of the new station I held. Commanders were too valuable to risk in that type of endeavor. Not that we did not lead our people into battle. But raids of the type conducted by our Rangers, were more likely to result in capture and torture. My brain had details of all of our new tactics and plans. It was too much to risk.
Fortunately Pulg, Syrann and Meena were able to inflict silent and terrifying losses on the Grey patrols and others. Those who sought the admiration of their brothers and commanders by setting up camp just outside the range of arrow shot were found the next day around their undisturbed fire, eyes open and unseeing, throats gapingly separated. In a flash of genius Meena had her team arrange one collection of bodies in a circle with bowls of meat in their laps as if they were in the middle of a meal. After three nights of such activity the beasts pulled their patrols and campsites back away from the walls yet again.
The Rangers were able to inflict other morale-sucking damages upon the enemy. Repeating the successful raid that had been carried out against the Grey’s water wagons Pulg and Meena led a two-pronged attack as four wagons were being re-filled at night. A lightning-fast blitzkrieg assault from two fronts resulted in all of the attending Greys being killed. The wagons were then splashed with a mixture of alcohol and animal fat grease and set alight. By the time reinforcements arrived the wagons were too engulfed in flames to save.
On another night Syrann and her archers, protected by Pulg and Meena’s fighters, snuck in close to three separate groups of sleeping grey beasts and drilled them all with arrows dipped in animal feces. The ones who did not die immediately were doomed to long and agonizing infections. It was an act that served to stoke the fires of panic among our enemies.
But still, we were mainly in a standoff. The Greys did not have the know-how or the equipment to mount a meaningful assault on our walls. Indeed, we hoped they would. It would probably hand us another cheap victory and an additional loss of numbers on their part. Unless things changed dramatically we were content to sit up on our walls looking down on them.
Whenever I had extra time and needed to decompress a little from the stress of my newfound responsibility as commander of near
ly twenty thousand warriors, I would go to see Syrann and let her instruct me in the art of archery. I found it to be a relaxing pastime and a skill that inspired confidence. It was a good feeling to know I could stand some sixty or seventy yards away from a man-sized wooden target and reliably sink a shaft in it up to the feathers. Under her tutelage I was able to drastically improve my skills with the weapon. The seventy-yard-range was what Syrann considered intermediate range. Her own specialty, and one that was also attractive to me, was the ability to launch an arrow almost straight up into the air and watch it come to earth as a lethal missile a hundred and fifty yards away. The gravity on this world was thin but, when an arrow was falling with a weighted point from a height of two hundred yards, it gathered enough velocity to punch through shields and armor. She had spent the last week showing me how to add accuracy to my long-range arcs. I had to admit I was getting better.
“If we had a hundred more who could draw bows like yours we could give the enemy a rude surprise.” She made her comment with a smile. Of course such a venture was impossible but she got me thinking. I made a visit to an old friend named Geord.
A month later things were much the same in the kingdom. The siege continued without putting much of a hardship on our citizens. Being confined within our city walls was not such a bad situation when the area enclosed by those walls was so large. If one got really desperate for diversion there was entertainment to be found at numerous inns and pubs. Public sporting events were arranged by Zander’s administrators for the purpose of staving off boredom. And if all else failed one could join the hundreds of Olvionis who gathered on the city walls at dusk to laugh and hurl insults at the encamped horde.
The Olvion Reality (The Chronicles of Olvion Book 1) Page 34