Rise of Dachwald (Boxed Set, Books 1 through 2)

by Lawlis, Daniel

  “If he knows he’s going to be dealing with a threat from the west, he’ll do whatever it takes to crush the City of Sodorf in days and thus avoid a two-front war. I’ll take you to see the battle, but we’ll only be able to do limited flying. We’ll have to spend most of the time well hidden high up in the largest tree we can find. Luckily, it’s nighttime right now. This is good, since you would be blinded right now if your eyes were immediately exposed to light; your eyes need to readjust gradually. Also, we’ll be able to fly to the location of the battle with a greater chance of not being detected. However, if you feel you need to see the new Dachwaldian weaponry in action to be able to figure out a way to train your army to combat it, then I think it’s worth the risk.”

  “I do.”

  “Alright. Here we go.”

  Istus began flying slowly through the dark tunnel. It was so dark a human could not see anything inside of it, but Istus was able to see well enough to avoid slamming into the wall. Pitkins felt the pleasant breeze of the wind against his face as they glided through the long tunnel that led to the opening on the side of the cliff wall. Several minutes later they saw starlight. Pitkins’ heart soared as he was finally freed of the horrible darkness in which he had so long been imprisoned. Never before had the stars seemed so beautiful, the night sky so wondrous, the trees below so majestic, the mountains so awe-inspiring.

  (be glad you kept yourself physically in shape; you’ll need more strength for this than anything you’ve ever done in your whole life . . . anything at all)

  Chapter 10

  Feiklen was with the group of Moscorians taking the western path to circle around Seihdun. He and 250 other Moscorians were in their heaviest camouflage and were wearing virtually no armor so there would be nothing to slow them down or compromise their stealth. A surge of euphoria swept over him. This attack would cripple Sodorf’s chances of ever defending herself again. He had not traveled more than a hundred yards before he spotted the first tower. He had to stop for a moment and appreciate the complexity of it.

  (this isn’t gonna be quite as easy as you thought)

  The tower had about four platforms on which Sodorfian troops were keeping watch. He pulled out a telescope for an even closer look. Looking through the powerful glass, he realized, to his horror, that there was no single person whose quick assassination would render the other Sodorfians unable to ring the large bell in a timely fashion. From what he could see, the rope attached to the bell descended inside the guard tower itself, which meant that at anytime, if even one Sodorfian was alive inside the guard tower, he would be able to ring the bell. Which of course, while not spelling doom to the attack itself, would certainly spell doom for any chance of achieving the element of surprise.

  And Tristan had asked for surprise.

  He had no shortage in the Creativity Department when it came to dealing death. He could do so as quickly and precisely as an experienced casino card dealer distributing a deck of cards. Maybe faster. But no matter how many different attacks he thought of, they all involved letting the players get a peek at the cards. And there could be no peeking. Not on this mission.

  Tristan’s not going to like this. Not one bit.

  But, as he thought it over more and more, he realized that, while Tristan would be angry if he did not proceed quickly with the plan, he would be far angrier if he went ahead and launched the attack knowing that disaster would be the probable result.

  This is the fault of those damn pholungs!! Tristan’s pride and joy. They forgot to mention that these lookout towers are nearly impossible to ambush! So much for Tristan’s eyes in the sky!

  Then, suddenly, an idea hit him. He liked it. He was pleased to meet its acquaintance. Even with it already laid out in his mind, he knew, however, that he needed to bring his Moscorians back into Dachwald where they could discuss his plan with Tristan first. Then, another thought hit him, and this one he didn’t like. It was terrifying.

  Kihlgun!! What if he decides to attack anyway, thinking that it would be better to attack than to risk being outdone by me or being reprimanded by Tristan for being overly cautious?! Or what if Kihlgun comes across a weakly protected guard tower and has no reason not to proceed with the plan?!

  Now nearly in a panic, he took the lead, and began moving back into Dachwald as quickly as he could without completely compromising his stealth and silence.

  As soon as he arrived back across the border, he immediately summoned Tristan.

  “Tristan! It is very urgent you recall Kihlgun immediately, or disaster may be the result!”

  Tristan, looking very displeased, knew that when Feiklen said something like this, it was best to just trust him.

  Tristan immediately sent one of the swiftest Moscorians to recall Kihlgun. The runner was met by Kihlgun already coming back into Dachwald, and Kihlgun was saying frantically, “Please tell me Feiklen has also recalled his men! Please!!”

  The Moscorian messenger quickly nodded affirmatively, and they all went back into Dachwald.

  Feiklen felt that a thousand-pound weight had been taken off his chest when he saw Kihlgun.

  “What’s going on?!” Tristan thundered at Kihlgun and Feiklen.

  Feiklen spoke first, “Master, these towers are very well-fortified and well-manned. Taking them out of commission quickly and silently, if not impossible, is going to be exceedingly more difficult than we first thought!”

  Quickly concurring, Kihlgun added, “He’s right, master.”

  “Koksun is going to be eating pholung soup for months to come!” shouted Tristan angrily. “They didn’t report anything about these towers that would make them so difficult to attack silently! Explain the problem!”

  “Master,” Feiklen began, “there is not just a ladder going up to the top of the tower. Looking through my telescope, I could see that there were several well-fortified levels to these lookout towers—at least the one I observed—and there are numerous Sodorfians posted on each level. Even worse, the rope attached to the bell descends inside the tower, and so, unless somehow all Sodorfian lookouts could be killed at once—a near impossibility—then at least one of them will still be able to ring the bell, which is all it will take for us to lose the element of surprise. However, master, if I may, I have a plan which I think might eliminate our problem.”

  “Speak,” Tristan said calmly.

  “While I was working at Arbeitplatz, one of the prisoners happened to be a Sodorfian with the foolishness to travel from Sodorf into Dachwald not very long ago. As soon as I found this out, I naturally put him under torture to make him tell me everything he knew about Sodorf’s defenses. Although he was very resilient and didn’t want to give in at first, he eventually told me that what was definitely the weakest point in Sodorf’s warning system was the fact that there had been several false alarms with the intricate system of bells and lookout towers throughout the country. He reported that in the last month alone there had been seven false alarms. Apparently, some Sodorfians were so frightened of an attack that they rang the bell every time they heard a twig crack. Despite threats of severe punishment made by the generals, these false alarms couldn’t be quelled. Finally, to prevent the alarms from being rendered totally useless, they came up with an idea.

  “Sodorfian protocol for sounding a warning is three rings of the bell. If a Sodorfian realizes he has made a false alarm, he is to then proceed to ring it seven times thereafter. The logic behind this is that, since most people who make a false alarm quickly realize their mistake, this way they can quickly communicate the mistake to the neighboring towers. Therefore, if one hears three rings of the bell, or even less, and then nothing but silence, everyone can assume it wasn’t a false alarm. The prisoner reported to me that the Sodorfian military commanders liked the results of this experiment because it got the people of Sodorf—both military and non-military—to not panic every time they heard the warning bells go off.

  “However, this doesn’t mean all we have to do is storm the guard t
owers and then ring the bells seven times afterwards. The prisoner mentioned there was rarely an instance where two false alarms were set off in the same day, and that there had never been more than two false alarms in a single day. What this means is we have a little bit of slack with regards to this accursed warning system, but we are definitely going to have to take a special approach to attacking these towers, or we are going to set off more than two ‘false’ alarms and everyone will know something very fishy is going on.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this before?!”

  “It seemed like useless information at the time because I didn’t realize the towers would be so well protected. I thought one arrow at each tower would do the trick, and no bells would be rung at all!”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “We figure out how long it would take for a group of Moscorians to reach the southernmost towers, divide up into small groups, each one going to a different tower, then synchronize all of our attacks so that all lookout towers are attacked simultaneously. That way there would be only one ‘false’ alarm at the most. The most skillful Moscorians should attack the towers closest to Seihdun because they’re going to have to travel the farthest without being detected.”

  “I like the plan—I certainly do NOT like the fact that you didn’t tell me about this contingency when we first made our plans. Now we’ve lost nearly an hour of time!”

  “As I said, I thought the information to be completely irrelevant, master, at the time. After all, I thought we could take out each lookout tower so fast that the lookouts would be gurgling blood and breathing their last before they could even think about reaching for the rope to ring the bell!”

  Tristan knew he was right. And he also didn’t want to waste any more time. He told Feiklen to quickly inform all of the Moscorians about the plan, personally divide them into small groups, and put someone in charge of each. Tristan ordered the synchronized attack to begin in exactly twelve hours. Each of the Moscorian group leaders had with them a very small hourglass that they could fit into one of their pockets. They would have to make sure to check it regularly to make sure they flipped it over at the exact moment it ran out of sand and to also count the number of times they did so.

  The Moscorians quickly set out on their mission again. There were five groups of fifty Moscorians going in each direction, as there were exactly five lookout towers along each route that they would need to take out.

  Exactly eleven-and-a-half hours later Feiklen and his Moscorians arrived at the tower just south of Seihdun. Feiklen looked down at his hourglass. Halfway empty.

  Thirty minutes to go.

  He would have liked to have used some pheorite to attack the tower, but he knew if anyone heard a loud explosion there was no way the Sodorfians would be easily convinced that it had been a “false” alarm, not even if they heard the seven rings immediately after. That was why, before they had set off on their mission once again, he had decided to have each group use naphtha. It was perfect for attacking this kind of defensive structure. Each group would, with their longbows, begin peppering the lookout towers with flaming naphtha-covered arrows. As soon as the tower began filling up with smoke and flames, everyone in there would immediately begin pouring out of the tower, like bees out of a hive—possibly without even bothering to ring the bell at all. It would depend on their level of discipline.

  One of the dangers with this approach was that if the tower was burned to a crisp, how would they ring the bell seven times to indicate a “false” alarm? Feiklen had come up with a solution for this scenario, which, of course, would only be an issue if the bell was rung at all. Each group had one person with him who carried a long rope with a large stone attached to the end of it. This could be used to bang the bell, perched on top of the tower, even if the tower was completely going up in flames.

  Ten minutes left.

  Feiklen used his hands to give an indication to his Moscorians of how much time they had remaining.

  Five minutes left.

  Feiklen’s heart beat faster and faster. It was like a wild stallion just recently freed from a barn wherein a cruel farmer had kept it for months and months, not allowing it any exercise. No freedom to run. Now it was running, galloping, jumping. Combat. It was what made him feel alive. The eight centuries in between this moment and the Seven Years War had been at least as dreadful for him as being cooped up in a barn was for a wild stallion. He looked forward to the bloodshed he hoped to unleash with the restlessness of a child waiting to open his birthday presents.

  One minute left.

  The stallion was now running more wildly than ever, but still had complete control of itself. It had to be. It was running on dangerous ground. It had to keep its footing.

  Thirty seconds.

  He indicated this to his Moscorians.

  Five seconds.

  He raised his hand, all five fingers outstretched, and began slowly lowering them as each second passed by, all the while keeping a close watch on the hourglass.

  Two seconds.

  He dropped his hand, placed an arrow in his longbow, lit it, and then he and all fifty Moscorians with him sent flaming, naphtha-covered arrows roaring into the unsuspecting lookout tower like raining fire. This scene was played out nearly identically in exactly ten locations surrounding Seihdun.

  WHOOSHH, WHOOSHH, WHOOSHH, WHOOSHH, WHOOSHH!!!

  The arrows went flying into the tower in front of Feiklen.

  “FIRE!!” the Sodorfians immediately shouted. “And the bell?!” one of them shouted, seeing his comrades flee. “Be a hero if you want to!” one of them shouted back; “I don’t want to get burned alive!”

  As they went pouring out of the lookout towers like ants exiting a burning anthill, they were immediately peppered with longbow arrows. Peppered so quickly that a huge pile of bodies quickly began forming in front of the tower. The Sodorfians being blocked from leaving by this bloody pile became very desperate. They were screaming and shouting in anger and fear, trying desperately to push their fallen comrades’ bodies out of the way so that they could get to safety. A few managed to do so, but as soon as they did, their heads and chests were covered with arrows, and they quickly became part of the pile. The big bloody pile. Those still inside the tower had no hope. Already engulfed in flames, they simply screamed out in agony. A smile spread across Feiklen’s face. He liked these sounds. He hoped to hear many more soon.

  Similar scenes were played out at the other nine towers south of Seihdun. So full of smoke and raging flames, none of the Sodorfians thought it expedient to worry about ringing the bell when they were seconds from being burned alive. Although at some locations more managed to actually exit the tower, none made it very far, as they all fell under a heavy hail of longbow arrows. All the towers south of Seihdun had been taken out, which meant that any warning bells that went off north of Seihdun would only be able to alert those in Seihdun. The southern link in the chain of towers had been taken out, and there would be no way for a warning to be brought southward except by a person on foot or on horse, and neither Tristan nor Feiklen planned on allowing a man to be left standing to accomplish either.

  Ecstatic with his success, and now nearly certain that Sodorf’s fate as a whole had just been sealed, Feiklen sent his swiftest runner back to alert the Moscorians north of them that their target had been taken out. Within about twelve hours, Tristan had been informed that both the eastern and western routes had been cleared.

  The trap was being set around Seihdun.

  Feiklen was delighted—nearly intoxicated with joy at just how well everything was going so far. The route now cleared, ten thousand Vechengschaft troops began traveling along the eastern route and ten thousand on the western route to circle southward around the Sodorfians at Seihdun, where they would meet up with the five hundred Moscorians already waiting there.

  After about twelve hours of marching they were in position. The other twenty thousand Vechengschaft had begun marching about ten hours
ago. Their destination was directly north of Seihdun, and they had now arrived.

  The Dachwaldians were under no illusions with regards to the reality that the warning bells north of Seihdun were going to go off as soon as the attack was sprung. It would have been perfectly feasible to take out the northern towers as well, but Tristan was in the mood to show off a little. The trap was set, and the bells could only alert the doomed. In fact, the ringing of the bells from the northern towers was going to be the signal to the troops south of Seihdun to attack. Thus, the Sodorfians’ once effective warning system was now going to be used as a tool to coordinate the pounding of the nails into their coffin.

  Feiklen waited eagerly for the sound of bells ringing.

  This is going to be it, the nail in Sodorf’s coffin!

  He thought back nostalgically to the many battles he had been in against Sodorf centuries ago, many of them successful, how marvelous it would feel to bloody his sword against the flesh of Sodorfians once again. He gulped in excited, nervous anticipation.

  After this, the City of Sodorf will be surrounded, outnumbered, outclassed, without reinforcements! We can take our time, smash and burn the city and all of its inhabitants and then continue mining for pheorite—after that we can take on another country! No one will be able to stop us! No one will—

  DONG, DONG, DONG!! Feiklen could hear the Sodorfian warning bells going off in the north. It was early dawn, the sun just beginning to rise.

  “CHAAARRRGE!!!!” he shouted at his men, and the order was quickly passed throughout the ranks. His group of 10,250 men, positioned southwest of Seihdun, and Kihlgun’s group of 10,250 men, positioned southeast of Seihdun, began to quickly descend upon Seihdun like lions on a downed gazelle.

  Chapter 11

  DONG, DONG, DONG!!! As Pitkins and Istus flew high over northern Sodorf, Pitkins suddenly heard the ominous tolling of a bell echoing throughout the land.