Our people advanced slowly letting our long range weapons thin out the enemy. I half-expected Ruguer to order a cavalry charge to mop up the remaining enemy force. But he would not risk the valuable cavalry without a sure and effective reward. By the time the retreat whistles blew there were less than three hundred Greys left alive and fleeing from the original estimated thirty five thousand in the attack force. Falling back we gathered our dead and wounded, determined to spare their bodies from the unspeakable acts that would have otherwise been visited upon them. A few dozen mounted troops rode out and tried to round up the rider-less horses, each one representing a fallen comrade.
Our warriors now turned and retreated over the four bridges and into the front gates as quickly as they could run. The huge approaching attack force was close but I could tell they would not reach our people before the gates were closed. Warriors and citizens lined the ramparts and windows cheering loudly and making obscene gestures at the approaching Greys.
As the Grey King and his band of almost a hundred thousand reinforcements came running into the area that was only moments ago occupied by forty eight thousand Warriors of Olvion he found only the dead bodies of his own raiders. When Karr was done stomping and shouting in anger he looked toward the nearest of the large city gates. A lone man mounted on a proud and pawing horse was sitting there watching. Karr moved closer, careful not to cross into the kill zone of the city’s archers. He stared directly at the lone figure trying to discern who this man was and why he was still there. The gate was still down unlike the other three on this side.
As Karr watched the man slowly removed his helmet. He then tilted his head back and shook it. With no apparent concern about Karr and his men being so near the man took a skin of spirits from his saddle and took a long drink. He smacked his lips and looked to where Karr had now been joined by his lieutenants. With a huge and mocking smile the man held the skin out to Karr as if offering it to the Grey King for a drink.
Karr screamed in fury and started towards the impudent human intending to tear him and his cowardly mount apart. He was stopped by six of his underlings who struggled to drag him to the ground so that he would not fall under the city’s arrows. Karr’s helmet was lost in the scuffle so he had an unimpeded view of the man slowly walking his mount back into the city, the sound of his loud laughter trailing behind him. Once Ruguer was inside he ordered the gate raised.
CHAPTER FORTY
Reflection
The Grey King sat silently in his tent and brooded. The flaps were drawn shut and it was almost pitch black inside. The revelation of the human’s plans for a morning assault had put him in a good mood last night. He had gone to sleep expecting an impressive victory, one so meaningful that it would wipe away all of the doubts that he knew were growing in the minds of his fighters and his officers. He’d awakened and advised all around him of the great victory that would theirs.
And now this had happened.
Karr had not always been king but he had always been a leader. He had pushed for years to convince the elders to allow an all-out push into the heart of the human territory. Each time he asked he had been rebuffed. The elders were content to just exist. No glory, no conquest, no adoration by the masses. Just a dull and non-eventful existence. The people were fed by large herds of cattle. Human meat was always preferable but they were satisfied by having it only when circumstances and infrequent raids offered the opportunity. They were content to throw away the glorious history of the Grey Ones. They had always been conquerors. They had hunted humans, just as they hunted other meat. But his people had made the mistake of letting a two hundred year old defeat frighten them into becoming a different breed. There was no more war, no more victory or glory. All because of an old story.
The elders warned about how the Greys’ empire had almost been eradicated. How the Human King Ausloe, aided by a yellow-haired giant, had turned a certain victory into a devastating defeat. The Grey raiders of two centuries before had been routed and chased across the entire kingdom of Olvion and back up into the Grey Mountains. Few had actually escaped with their lives. It had taken over two hundred years for their numbers to replenish. They were strong now. But still the elders counseled against war.
“Why?” the old ones asked. “Why risk our existence on a war we don’t need? The humans stay on their land and leave us alone on ours. We have cattle, we have territory. Live. Live and let other generations after us live. If you want human meat and treasure so badly then acquire it on raids small enough that the humans won’t feel threatened and bring war to us here in our lands.”
That is what they had repeatedly told him. Until the night that he, Karr, had been sought out and made aware of what could be accomplished. So he gathered the like-minded behind him. He made deals, did favors and gained influence until the day he entered the Hall of Elders with his lieutenants and cut their throats. Then they fed on the bodies of their former leaders and Karr claimed the title of King. By that time he had enough support that none dared oppose him.
And now here he sat. Fear was coursing through the ranks. Now there were whispers that the elders were having their revenge. Consuming the flesh of the elders had been an outrageous violation of custom. That sin was now being repaid. Or so the weaker minded among them thought.
Alone in the darkness Karr realized he was losing this war, the loyalty of his raiders and his ability to have the horde accept him as their commander. He sat on his cot and drank from a skin of spirits. Something had to change and quickly. He knew what happened to leaders who lost the faith of his followers; the same thing that happened to the former elders.
The Grey King heard a rustle behind him and his somber mood began to lift. He smiled. At least he was not alone.
CHAPTER FORTY ONE
Cannon
We had dodged the bullet once again and scored yet another valuable victory. I wondered how many times we could push our luck and continue to be so wildly successful. True, we’d lost hundreds of warriors in this battle, maybe even a thousand or more. A formal count had not yet been conducted. But the enemy had been badly hurt. No army could lose thirty five thousand fighters and not feel it. The number was much too large to be ignored by the surviving soldiers. They would see the devastation inflicted upon their friends and start to question the wisdom of their leaders. That was the beginning of the collapse of order. And this defeat came after a series of others. Before this bunch had even arrived on scene they had lost twenty thousand fighters belonging to the advance force that their king had decided upon sending. At least for now, the war appeared to be going very much in our favor.
As the sun finally sank below the horizon I prayed that the specter of the destruction of Olvion was also falling. I was still on the ramparts facing the Grey encampment. Or what was left of a large part of it. Flames pushed black smoke into the air from hundreds of locations. Bodies, all of them grey, literally covered huge sections of the valley. We had been successful at recovering all of our fallen fighters. The smells of smoke, blood and spilled viscera wafted up to the height of the stronghold battlements. The clouds of black flies were as thick as the wood-smoke. I stood with eyes closed thanking God for delivering our enemies. Wagons were passing through the camp loaded with the enemy dead. They would be a long time collecting them all.
Small footsteps approached me from behind. Arms circled my waist and the unmistakable scent of my lady fought back the stench of the battle. Neither of us spoke for a while. We both understood that this was a time for the quiet appreciation of survival. We were not yet safe. But we had prevailed yet again against daunting odds. We took a few quiet moments to just hold each other, secure in the knowledge that, today at least, we would live on. The sounds of celebration were growing in the ground level of the city.
“You can relax now, my warrior,” she said finally. “I know that you have been agonizing over your decisions to use the new battle tactics. You have not slept in three days worrying that our warriors would die because
of your ideas.” She walked around and faced me. “Well, my Legend, you can stop questioning yourself. Look there.” She pointed out over the field of battle. “Look and remember that you saved thousands, maybe even tens of thousands of Olvioni lives today.”
I looked at her and marveled again at the fact that this wonderful, beautiful woman was mine.
“It was not all my idea.”
“No. But the core of the ideas was yours. And they worked, the enemy was caught completely unprepared. Look!” she insisted, pointing again. “This is a great victory. It is the reason you are here.” She put her arms around me for another long embrace and I held her until she broke it. “I have to get to triage,” she said. “You go and receive the acclaim that is rightfully yours.” Then she was gone, stepping lightly down the stairs and leaving me, once again, alone with my thoughts.
The staging field within the city walls was alive with shouts and cheers. Cavalry troops were being helped from their saddles, infantry were being hugged by the Olvioni citizens and handed food and drink. Everyone was happy and in the mood to celebrate. Even the wounded were smiling. When I came down the stairs leading from the ramparts the noise level elevated to deafening. I was surrounded by warriors and citizens slapping me on the back, offering congratulations. Several of them tried to lift me onto their shoulders but I begged my way out of it. Another group of revelers was working its way toward us and I could see Vynn riding the shoulders of the human tide. This inspired the crowd into another attempt to pick me up. They tried only for a moment this time but they eventually read my mood and abandoned the attempt. Vynn waved at me. He was smiling but just barely. I knew what he was going through. The crowd was jubilant in their ignorance. True, this battle had been successful beyond our wildest dreams. But Vynn and I both knew that, in the long run, our victory changed little. I was growing impatient with the kingdom throwing parties of celebration after every success when the road before us was still long. We were still badly outnumbered and no reinforcements had yet arrived. And even though our losses had been smaller than expected I deeply felt the death of every warrior.
Still, Dwan had been correct. The last few days had been mind-numbingly stressful. Ruguer had trusted me to come up with an entirely novel approach to the customary tactics of battle. The fact that they had been successful was a relief. Not that I had been alone in the formulation of the new techniques. Vynn and Mag-Gan, both having more combat experience, were quick to see flaws in my thinking. Between their experience and the military genius of Ruguer we had crafted a battle plan that maximized our strengths while minimizing the advantages of the Greys. In the end we were able to accomplish the goal of every military commander since the dawn of time: Kill the maximum number of enemy with the minimum number of losses.
With some difficulty Vynn and I managed to extricate ourselves and make our way slowly through the staging field to one of the smaller entrances to the castle proper. We stopped briefly by the large ground floor feeding facility and each grabbed a snack before heading up to the war room. Vynn had a few minor wounds on his arms, mostly abrasions. I, of course, was unmarked.
The mood of the war room was upbeat but serious. Like Vynn and I, everyone was aware that the task still before us was daunting. Ruguer was at the main table, his head leaned in close to Zander’s. There was a white, blood-stained bandage on his forearm. A healer was working on a wound on his calf. I looked closer and was surprised to see it was Dwan. I looked for Mag-Gan but he was not present.
When Vynn and I approached the royal table Zander saw us coming and stood. I noted that he had removed his armor. I briefly wondered why he had been wearing it in the first place. Had his faith in our plans been so thin that he suspected the troops might need to be heartened by seeing their king in their midst?
As we walked up Ruguer also stood. There was a sadness on his face that was not in keeping with the aftermath of a major victory. I braced myself. Tinker was with me but I did not need her to warn me that bad news was coming. The indication that such was imminent was plain to see on the expressions of my king and my commander.
Zander put his hands on my shoulder and that of Vynn. “Good Warriors, the kingdom is in your debt. Your new battle tactics worked better than we could have hoped for.” He paused. I swallowed. Suddenly I was certain of what was coming. “Unfortunately, our good and faithful Mag-Gan has fallen.”
Vynn, who had known him much longer than I, studied the king’s face for a few seconds, desperately searching for some indication that he had misunderstood. When no such indication materialized he simply nodded and looked toward the observation windows. I felt a rock in my gut. I’d been here such a short amount of time yet had lost so many good friends and comrades. Dwan, who had paused in her efforts to close Ruguer’s leg wound, wiped at wet eyes. We had another silent and emotional moment in honor of our friend then Zander reluctantly but expertly diverted our sadness into action.
“All right, the new information we have for planning is that we now face approximately 141,000 Greys. Our victory today has dropped our odds from the original three to one down almost to two to one. I have to admit that we were aided in our triumph by the sheer stupidity of their strutting peacock of a king to commit a badly outnumbered force to attack us. There seems no other explanation for this blunder except that he wanted to hurt us as much as he could and cared not for the losses that he knew would result. Or maybe he was so incensed at the destruction of his war machines that he simply let anger direct his actions. Whichever, it is information we can use in crafting future plans. But I have serious questions.” He turned his gaze on each of us in turn. “If I didn’t know better it would appear that there are two leaders making plans for the Grey horde. They have used brilliant tactics alongside of bad ones.
“Look at the construction and use of the war machines. The components were crafted elsewhere out of our sight and then moved up, under cover of darkness, with assembly being started without our being aware. That all served to give them more of a chance to complete the machines while minimizing the time we had to plan an attack on them. Indeed, if those oversized crossbow machines had not been available to us we would have had to gamble against terrible losses in order to reach them and destroy them.” He turned to me. “I applaud your initiative Tag, dedicating some of your funds to the construction of those weapons. Can we expect to have any more operational in the near future?”
“Yes.” I stood and pulled a wad of papers from my belt, notes from my last encounter with Geord. “The three malfunctioning cannons…Geord and I have decided to give them that name because their results remind me of weaponry we had in my world… have been repaired giving us the original eighty four we started with on the wall. In addition Geord is certain to have another twenty two completed and assembled in two days. Meanwhile work on them will continue on an accelerated pace. Geord has told me he intends to put out the word that he requires more skilled craftsmen to turn out the wood, wire and iron components we need to speed up production. We expect the Olvioni people to respond enthusiastically.”
Ruguer frowned. “Why are we asking? If this city falls it will be everyone’s head decorating the walls. Perhaps you should issue an edict?” he asked the king.
Zander smiled but shook his head. “Let’s wait. If I am a competent judge of the mindset of our people I would wager they will be crawling over each other’s backs trying to be part of such an effort. I don’t want to temper that enthusiasm by making it a command. Our people will take pride in stepping up on their own.”
Ruguer grinned widely.
“Why do you smile?” Zander asked.
“Because it is observations such as those that remind me why you are king.”
“Let’s hope I am right, Commander. Now,” he looked at me again, “Any additional surprises that you are concealing?”
I blushed a little. The construction of the cannons had not been shared with the rest of the command team and that had been a mistake that almost had dis
astrous consequences. I was concerned that my faith in the crossbow/cannons would not bear fruit or be looked upon as a waste of resources. As a result these effective weapons had not been included in our planning. Only at the very last moments did I decide to commit them to the fight. My reluctance to face possible criticism had almost cost us lives. The king was giving me a mild rebuke and it was one that I deserved. It was a mistake I would not make twice.
“None,” I answered. “But I must make you aware that the use we made of the cannon on the walls is not the use that we had planned.” Zander leaned back against the table and indicated that I should explain further.
“Our original intent was to create a weapon that could be taken into the field of battle to reduce enemy ground forces rapidly and from a distance,” I explained. “They were originally set up to fire three smaller iron arrows or “bolts” with each release of the trigger. They are on wheeled wagons which allow us to roll them into the field with us. We can push them ahead of us or lash them to burdenbeasts.
“The larger wooden shafts we used today was Geord’s idea. He knew of a location in which hundreds of discarded tent and awning supports had been stored and intended for eventual use as firewood. He originally thought they could be effective as a way to terrorize the more superstitious Greys by raining giant flaming arrows down around them at night. Who knows how they might have reacted? Now we know that the weapons have the additional utility of a wall defense tool. But if we have the opportunity to try some in the field they may turn out to be a devastating anti-infantry weapon.”
“How so?” asked Vynn.
I accepted a mug of tea and a pastry before answering. A steward had appeared and passed around several trays. Tinker stuck her head out of her pouch, snout wriggling left and right, trying to locate the tea. Ruguer, who had grown quite fond of my little comrade, poured a good portion into a shallow plate and pushed it over in front of me. She chittered and hopped onto the table. After a few sips she began eyeing the tray of pastries also. This time it was Zander who broke open a tart and set a piece in front of her. She gave out a soft trill as she enjoyed the treat. We all smiled at her antics for a brief interlude before returning to the topic at hand.
The Olvion Reality (The Chronicles of Olvion Book 1) Page 38