The Olvion Reality (The Chronicles of Olvion Book 1)

by Larry Robbins

  The Greys still seemed stymied as to what course of action to take next. We had watched numerous times as the leader of the Greys, always arrayed in the golden armor, toured the perimeter, quizzing his lieutenants and trying to devise a plan to breach our walls. He’d not yet succeeded or even come up with any course of action that he was willing to try.

  I spent a morning in a strategy conference with Vynn, Mag-Gan, Ruguer and the King. We were now putting the last touches to our newly conceived tactics of engaging the enemy and were feeling cautiously optimistic. None of us thought we had a real chance in a head-to-head fight against the odds we were facing but, with a healthy infusion of fresh troops from the coast, we could definitely have a chance. In the meantime our stores of food and water were holding up well and we had no inclination to gamble our troops unnecessarily.

  But everything changed that afternoon.

  A runner from the King found me at lunch with Dwan and Vynn. We were summoned to the war room. The messenger took us straight to the primitive elevator and we were hoisted quickly to the top level and ushered inside the observation post. Zander and Ruguer were there along with Mag-Gan.

  We wedged our way in between the ranks of warriors looking out on the valley below us. Lesser-ranked soldiers surrendered their places to us when they saw who we were.

  Out below us was the huge camp of the Greys. They had water wagons and food wagons weaving in and out of the different groups of beasts. There were hundreds of the vehicles and I wondered what was being thrown out of the wagons and seized by their fighters as food. I could see several carcasses that were recognizable as animal but others I preferred not to give a close examination. The logistics of sustaining such a huge number must be staggering. But hey had been doing so for well over two months.

  The reason for the increased interest were the six tall wooden structures. Each was on a huge and heavy wheeled platform.

  “Trebuchets,” I said, almost to myself. Ruguer looked over at me, curious. I realized he did not know the English word for the war machine. I reached out, mentally to Tinker who was snoozing in her pouch, slung from my shoulder. She sent me the Olvioni word and I told Ruguer. He nodded.

  “We have not used nor seen one for centuries,” Ruguer said. “When there were territory skirmishes between the four kingdoms they would be employed as a means to break sieges. Since the uniting of our kingdoms there has simply been no need of such things. The Greys, before now, have never used them and have never shown the ability to construct them.” He shook his head as he watched the scene unfolding below us.

  The Greys were still in the process of assembling the machines. Interestingly the machines, which were designed to throw huge rocks or diseased animal carcasses over besieged walls, had been constructed piecemeal at another location and the components brought into the Greys camp unseen on the previous evening after dark. That gave them a twelve-hour head start on assembling the weapons of war without us even knowing they were there.

  King Zander, ever calm, stood with his arms folded, brow creased. “This level of ability by this enemy is unprecedented,” he said. He turned to us, his military commanders. “Good Warriors, there is something afoot here. Have the grey beasts suddenly developed the intelligence to build such things or are they being assisted by…someone or something?”

  Ruguer was taking a last look through a telescope. He answered without taking it from his eye. “That is something to ponder later, after all of this is over. The reality is…they will soon have six catapults capable of throwing destructive missiles at our walls. We can’t know their full capability until we see them in action. But judging from the size of those monstrosities I would say they are sufficiently large enough to pose a serious risk to the integrity of our walls. No city has fortifications so strong that they can stand up to constant and serious bombardment.” He finally lowered the telescope and turned to us.

  “Commanders, I have had you working out a worst-case attack scenario. Well, this is worst-case. It was for just such a purpose that we have been planning. Let us pray that we have done our jobs correctly.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  Trebuchets

  The Greys spent the next two days working on their war machines. Luckily for us the pieces, though fully constructed, were extremely heavy. Having no machines designed for the purpose, the act of raising the parts into place and securing them there was being done by ropes and pulleys only. It was an achingly slow process but one that was going forward at a steady pace. The enemy had almost unlimited manpower from which to draw. We figured we had, at most, another three days before we would be dodging big rocks.

  The test now was trying to put together a coherent plan to attack the Greys camp for the sole purpose of destroying the machines before they could destroy us. Besides Vynn and Mag-Gan I pulled in Pulg to help think up anything that we might encounter. My biggest personal shortcoming was a lack of real military experience and I was not shy about picking the brains of more experienced warriors. I mean, I had spent four years in the U.S. Army when I turned eighteen but that was a far cry from the realities of war here in Olvion. There were no M-4s, claymores, tanks, Stryker vehicles or Humvees. Oh what I would have given for a Squad Automatic Weapon with a few thousand rounds of ammunition. But here, the war was fought face to face with naked steel, close enough to smell the stink of your enemy.

  Still, I had learned a few useful things in my army days. I knew how to get along with people who were piled together in large numbers, almost on top of each other. I learned to take orders and, later on, to give them. And I learned the value of preparation and taking the time to think out every conceivable scenario so one could be prepared with a response when the excrement hit the oscillator.

  So we all talked, planned and thought. Each night we would take a list of possibilities to Ruguer and Zander and they would discuss them with us and make suggestions as to how we could improve them. We settled on and learned the meaning of different signal flags and the combinations of same. Observers in the war room had a much more complete view of what was happening in the valley and they could alert commanders in the field below to impending problems by raising and lowering flags from the roof of the stronghold. Special mounted troops would see the signals and raise the appropriate banners which relayed the orders to the warriors on the field of battle. It was a good system and one that the enemy did not have. We hoped. The ability to communicate instructions quickly was a weapon that was every bit as lethal as the mace and sword.

  Tinker would ride with me in her pouch each day, emerging only when she smelled tea being poured. I think she was developing a real addiction to the stuff though the caffeine tended to make her jumpy. When it was being passed around the stewards in the War Room always knew to have a small bowl of it ready for my little friend. Sometimes as we were conspiring, I would see her standing by the observation windows, her small face almost on the glass, whiskers twitching. At night she would lay on my chest after Dwan had fallen asleep. She would then fill my mind with images of calming and relaxing places and sights. I would eventually be able to let go of all of the worry and stress involved in being a military leader and slip off into the sweet nothingness of sleep.

  Finally we were ready. Or so we hoped. Our best estimates told us the beasts would have their trebuchets ready to use by noon the next day, or thereabouts. We would strike in the morning before that could happen. We all stood and saluted our king. He returned the honor then went around the table to embrace each of us and wish us well.

  Brackus, our noble Vice-Monarch, was nowhere to be seen these days. Scuttlebutt said he had pitched the idea that he was more important being used as an ambassador to the coastal kingdoms and the effort to encourage them to enter the fray. If that were true (and Zander would not confirm or deny it), he would already have been spirited out of one of the secret exits and was making his way to the coast. And safety.

  In any ground war the numbers would not be kind to us. We now had sixty
thousand ground troops and seventeen hundred cavalry. Enough infantry troops had been trained and converted to that assignment in order to increase the cavalry strength and replace those lost in the previous skirmishes. The enemy now had two hundred and sixteen thousand raiders, as nearly as we could tell. We had chipped away successfully at them since they had arrived but the end result did not change the balance much. Ruguer’s brilliant cavalry attack had taken out a large number and my Rangers had taken out at least a hundred or more in their silent night terror raids. But it seemed their numbers were constantly being refreshed by new arrivals.

  But not everything was bleak. The sheer numbers they possessed made it difficult to put them all into use at the same time. If they were calling the shots and massing for an attack they would be able to position all of their forces for the best utilization. We hoped to catch them off guard and still bunched up in their camps. Because of their huge numbers they were strung out all through the valley and up into the foothills. It would take considerable time for them to gather, deploy and commit all of their fighters.

  Another nice surprise was the fact that the war machines were being built all in one area instead of being spread out. This allowed us to plan on segregating that area and securing it in order to have the time to destroy them. It wasn’t much but every little advantage helped.

  We had been successful at quick surprise attacks in the past and were hoping to do the same the next morning. The aim was to get deeply into their ranks, hurt them as badly as we could, and then get the hell out of there with minimum loss of manpower. But along the way we would need to take the time necessary to destroy the new war machines or damage them to the extent that repair would be impossible. And every minute that we were fighting to give our people time to accomplish that our people would be dying. This was where we really could have benefitted from the use of oil or pitch, something that we could just slop all over the trebuchets and then set them alight. Once again I lamented the lack of any such materials in this world. A mixture of animal fat and alcohol was inflammable and abundant and we would certainly carry some with us and use it if we were able to get close enough.

  Explosives would have been very useful. I really didn’t know if there were substances here that could be made into gunpowder or not. I thought I remembered that saltpeter was one of the components but I didn’t even know what that was or how to find it. And I had no clue as to the other ingredients.

  My ruminations were interrupted by Tinker. She was still at the window and had just emitted that shrill seagull-like sound that indicated anger. Her tail was twitching crazily left and right and her mouth was drawn into a snarl, exposing her small sharp teeth.

  “What’s the matter, Tink?”

  She never even looked at me. Something had obviously upset her over in the Greys camp. I walked over and picked her up. She kept her eyes on the activities down below. A low and barely audible growl was coming from her mouth.

  I looked but could see nothing except the Grey commander in his pretentious golden armor. He was walking through the camp pointing at the trebuchets, giving orders. A lackey walked behind him carrying a black box.

  “Come on, Girl, Let’s go see Dwan.” I carried her with me to the stairs and we went to our apartment. Dwan was seated there, staring silently out of the lone window we had. Everyone in the city was aware that we would have to hit the enemy tomorrow or suffer an onslaught from the war machines. Her eyes were red. She’d been crying yet again. I didn’t say anything, just sat on the floor behind her and wrapped her in my arms. What was there to say?

  For the first time since we had arrived in Olvion Dwan and I did not make love. I came out of the bathroom, hair still wet from my shower and climbed in beside her. She scooted over and wrapped her arms around me, holding on tightly. I pulled her in close. That’s how we fell asleep.

  Three hours before dawn I rose, trying to be silent. The room was cool, almost chilly. The drapes were still open but there was no light to come through. I stood there for a full three minutes just listening to her breathe. There was just enough ambient light to see the curve of her cheek and the shape of her hip under the sheet.

  I thought about this day and what it may be bringing. So many years alone. So many nights and mornings unshared. Now that everything was coming together for us we had this to deal with. I always wanted a good woman, someone to really love, appreciate and value. Never in my life did I even hope to find someone as beautiful, intelligent and loving as my Dwan. I had no idea what was to happen today. I admitted to myself that I would probably not live out the day. I could have elected to stay in the war room and direct the movements of my people through the raising and lowering of flags. It was my choice. But Ruguer was not staying behind. Vynn was not staying behind. Neither was Mag-Gan or Pulg or Meena. And what would I be accomplishing if I did? Nothing. If the Grey horde got past us, Dwan and everyone in the city of Olvion would fall to horrible fates. Out there, in the battlefield, I might make a small difference. Very small. My size and strength would not tip the scales against thousands of cannibalistic beasts. But a poem ran through my mind. Something about for want of a nail a shoe was lost. For want of a shoe a horse was lost. For want of a horse a man was lost. For want of a man…!

  Well, you’ve probably heard that poem a hundred times. That morning, standing in the near-dark, looking at the most important person that had ever been in my life, the words spoke volumes to me. Nothing was going to be lost today for want of what I could add to our cause.

  Lying there I heard her breathing quicken, then she drew in a quick breath. Her hand stabbed out, searching the space beside her. She rolled over onto her back, rose up and saw me. She relaxed and lay back.

  “I thought you’d gone without telling me goodbye.”

  I went over to stand next to the bed.

  “I will never leave and not tell you goodbye.” I had a thought. “I’ve never asked. How would I make you my wife?”

  My olive-skinned, dark-haired beauty smiled in the darkness.

  “My silly warrior. I have been your wife since that first night we slept in each other’s arms. In Olvion, ceremonies are not important or needed, only emotions.”

  She got up and we showered together and got ready for the day. There was no discussion of what might happen. What would be the point? I caught her wiping her eyes a few times but pretended not to notice.

  We dressed. She was in her Healer’s clothes and I had most of the outfit that I had taken from the cavern of skeletons. I wore the Olvion uniform but would cover parts of it with my armor and vest when we went into battle. It wouldn’t hurt to have a few reminders for those who still thought I was The Legend. My armor was piled in a corner of the room. I had already arranged for a messenger to collect them and take them to the ground floor armory for me.

  We walked hand in hand down the several flights of stairs to our favorite dining facility on the first floor. Passers-by nodded and saluted. Tinker rode on my shoulder, growling when others would get too close and try to touch her. She was all business this morning. Dwan talked about her work and her plans for the near future and I joined in. A small place off to ourselves would be nice when this was all over. She wanted it to be by a lake, I wanted an arrangement for horses.

  We walked into the dining hall and saw that it was filled with warriors and their families. Like us they were enjoying a morning together, talking as if this day was just like every other day. Early rising non-military citizens were standing against the walls and giving the room over to their defenders. They were mostly the old and infirm with a few mothers holding small children. For not the first time my admiration of the people of Olvion was a palpable sensation in my chest. I was so proud of all of them.

  Dwan and I finished a wonderful meal, the best we had ever experienced there. It was a special offering from the cooks and stewards for the warriors. Dawn was just breaking pink over the mountains when we stood. I kissed Dwan and held her. Around the room all of the war
riors stood and kissed their children and wives and parents and other loved ones. Then I turned and walked toward the door. As the senior officer in the room the warriors waited until I passed then fell into step behind me. As we exited the dining hall applause erupted all around us, from the hall, the passageways and up and down the stairs. There were tears also but those sounds were held back because they were not what the warriors needed to hear. At that moment I would have charged a nest of a thousand Greys for these people. And for my Dwan.

  As the sun crawled upward in the sky the forces of Olvion were deployed and waiting in several staging areas. Warriors stood or sat, talking and passing the time until they were ordered into battle. The four gates were still closed but could be opened in an instant by using hammers to knock pins out of a rack which secured counterweights. When the pins were removed the weights would fall downward dropping the gates almost instantly. They could then be quickly pulled back up with winches. Between the two outer and smaller gates were the larger main east entrances. The huge inner staging area was filled to capacity with warriors. With so many people one would expect to hear a cacophony of noise but it was more subdued than I expected. The loudest sounds were from the horses which pawed the ground and blew.

  I saw Vynn walking toward his staging area and chased him down. I was hoping he’d heard something from the other kingdoms but he had not. We were to meet for one last time in the war room before our attack. Together we took the elevator up and stepped inside. It was organized chaos with officers of every rank performing their own separate and necessary tasks. Ruguer was at the window with King Zander and Mag-Gan. They looked especially stoic this morning. Ruguer had on his light cavalry armor which covered both legs, both arms and his chest and back. It was a light metal that had been enameled in the Olvion colors of green and red. An armored aide behind him held his commander’s helmet and shield. I was surprised to see the king also in armor. His was a little more ornate but there was no mistaking that it was serious equipment. Zander was an effective military commander in his own right before ascending to the throne. Should it appear that help was needed on the battlefield he would not shy away from joining in.