The Tiger's Time

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  “This is a risk we will just have to take,” Stiger said. “Hux, leave behind the three squadrons. Take everything else with you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Sabinus said with evident relief at getting the majority of Hux’s cavalry.

  “Brogan and I planned this flanking movement out in advance.” Stiger looked at each one in turn around the table. “The thane and I have been trading messages for the past few days, discussing strategy. When we settled upon this plan, it was one of the reasons we left the stone bridge in place. We both feel that sending a flanking force out, around, and behind our enemy is our best option for successfully breaking the enemy.” Stiger paused and looked directly at Sabinus. “Get across the river and hit the enemy hard. When it is time, we will fight our way across that stone bridge out there and join you both across the river.”

  “I look forward to it, sir,” Sabinus said.

  “Any additional questions?” Stiger asked.

  “No, sir,” Sabinus said.

  “Sabinus, pull your cohort off the line,” Stiger said. “Seventh Cohort will be taking your place. I sent Severus with orders for them to move into position and prepare to relieve you.”

  “Yes, sir,” Sabinus said.

  “What about my boys?” Thigra asked. “Who will take their place along the line?”

  “I’ve split one of the reserve cohorts,” Stiger said. “They should be in position and waiting.” Stiger took a look around. “Are there any other questions? Any additional thoughts?”

  No one spoke up.

  “See you on the other side of the river,” Stiger said and held out his hand.

  “I will be there, sir,” Sabinus said and shook.

  “Make sure you keep me apprised of your progress. Don’t leave me in the dark.”

  “We will, sir,” Sabinus said.

  “I will see you too,” Stiger said to Thigra and held out a hand.

  “Count on it,” Thigra said and shook.

  With that, Sabinus and Thigra left the tent. Looking like an overeager schoolboy, Setinnunus followed behind them. It was not often that a legion’s chief engineer got to bridge a river during a major battle and do it under a time crunch.

  “I should like to go with them,” Theo said.

  Stiger looked over at the dwarf and raised an eyebrow, surprised.

  “I think it’s time I fought with my brothers,” Theo said. “I’m not much for standing on the sidelines while others fight for me. Besides, I will have a good story to tell my son when he is old enough to understand.”

  “Is that really the entire reason?” Stiger asked. Theo seemed a little over melodramatic.

  “No.” Theo sounded amused. “You are getting to know me only too well.”

  “The real reason?” Stiger asked.

  “Chovhog is known for his difficult manner. He will not be pleased to be placed under the command of a human and even less pleased to find Thigra over him. I will smooth things out for your Centurion Sabinus so that there are no problems prior to Brogan arriving with the bulk of his army.”

  “Now that makes more sense,” Stiger said and flashed a grin at Theo. “I appreciate your efforts.”

  “Oh, and no need to write a letter to Chovhog,” Theo said. “I will act as your messenger. Also, before I leave, I will write to Brogan, asking him to begin using common for his dispatches, as I will be unavailable to translate. Can you see to it the message is delivered to the mountain?”

  Stiger gave a nod.

  The orc king looked as if he wanted to say something. Therik shifted slightly.

  “Don’t tell me you want to go too?” Stiger asked.

  “No,” Therik said. “I will be staying with you.”

  “Then what is it?” Stiger asked.

  “I’ve never seen a dragon,” Therik said. “So far dragon boring. I stay. I wait for him to do something.”

  Stiger glanced over at Therik and wondered on the orc’s sanity.

  “Unbelievable.” Theo shook his head. “Your people are being slaughtered out there and all you can think of is seeing the dragon doing something?”

  “It is difficult to watch, but they turn back on me,” Therik said. “I get revenge for that. But I want to see dragon do something.”

  “I think I will see Nepturus,” Theo said, “and get that message to Brogan written.”

  Theo ducked out of the tent.

  Stiger turned to Salt. “Any thoughts?”

  “Besides our allies being difficult to work with and full of themselves?” Salt asked.

  “Besides that,” Stiger said.

  “Only that it will be very dangerous for the flanking force, but you already know that, sir. Are you sure this is the best way?”

  “No,” Stiger admitted, “but I have reason to believe it will succeed.”

  “Reason being a view of our time from the future?”

  “Yes,” Stiger said. “The only problem is the minion knows Delvaris did this as well.”

  “Explain what you say,” Therik demanded. “How you and it know of such things?”

  “The minion and I both came from the future,” Stiger said.

  “What?” Therik narrowed his eyes.

  “I will explain later,” Stiger said, “but just trust me for now.”

  “I trust,” Therik said. “You explain later.”

  Salt returned to the matter at hand. “Then, if the creature knows . . . well, that makes this move much more dangerous.”

  “I know, but I just don’t see any other way to break the enemy army and bring the minion to a fight,” Stiger said unhappily. “Do you?”

  Salt shook his head. “If we do as Thigra suggested, hold the line, and play it conservatively, everything hinges on Brogan. If he doesn’t arrive in a timely manner, our boys will wear down and we will be evicted from this defensive position. At that point, we have two choices. Fall back on either our fortified encampment or the dwarven mountain, then wait for Brogan to come save us. I am not sure what kind of shape the legion would be in at that point, sir.”

  “Agreed,” Stiger said, not wanting to think on such an eventuality. It was rare for a legion to be beaten, but it had happened before.

  “Sabinus will have the advantage of his cavalry operating over open ground,” Salt added. “That alone increases his chances for success. Hux is one of the best cavalry officers I’ve ever known. Delvaris would not have given him the job of commanding the cavalry wing had the man not proven himself. Yes, I think this plan has a chance for success, sir.” Salt rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. “If it fails, with the cavalry as a screening force, Sabinus should be able to retreat back to the bridges. I would think he would be able to cross over to our side, destroying the bridges behind him. If that happens, we end up back where we started, with us on one side of the river and the enemy on the other.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Stiger said. “Now, I’ve been away from the battle for too long. I want to get back to the observation platform.”

  Stiger left the command tent and passed through the administrative tent. Theo was writing at a desk, Nepturus hovering over his shoulder. Severus was just returning as Stiger stepped back out into the night with Therik and Salt.

  “Sir,” Severus said, spotting them and stepping over. “As instructed, I waited until the Seventh was in position. They stand ready to relieve the First.”

  “Thank you,” Stiger said and started to step by the youth. “See Nepturus and tell him I will be on my platform.”

  “Sir, I have a request?”

  “Yes?” Stiger turned back.

  “I would like to go with First Cohort,” Severus said. “I want in on the fighting before it is over. I don’t much like being an errand boy.”

  Stiger regarded the tribune for a long moment. He considered telling him flat out no, but then recalled he himself had led a legionary company, the Seventh, at nearly this boy’s age.

  “Very well,” Stiger said
, feeling a bit of regret at giving in. “Attach yourself to Sabinus, as his aide. But first tell Nepturus where I will be.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Severus said with evident excitement, “and I will, sir.”

  “Just make sure you come back alive,” Stiger said. “I have nearly run out of tribunes, and without you, I will have to start using Dog to run errands.”

  “I will, sir,” Severus said.

  Stiger nodded and the youth stepped off.

  “That’s not the place for him, sir,” Salt said. “His eagerness for action could very well get him killed.”

  “We were both that age once,” Stiger said. “You know how it is, eager to be at it before you realize just how terrible war really is.”

  “I don’t think I can remember that far back,” Salt said, glancing after Severus.

  “He is young warrior,” Therik said. “Is good he goes to fight and blood himself.”

  “As long as the blood doesn’t come at the cost of his life,” Stiger said.

  He was about to turn for his platform when his eyes fell upon the medical compound, which was a series of six tents just beyond headquarters. A legionary was helping a wounded comrade up to the compound. The injured man was limping badly. Outside the tents, the wounded had been laid out on the grass in neat rows. Medical orderlies moved amongst them. As he watched, two orderlies lifted a man on a stretcher and carried him into a tent, where the surgeons likely waited.

  Nepturus had tracked down Father Thomas. Stiger had learned the paladin was in with the surgeons, doing what he could to help. The paladin’s medical skills, beyond those divine ones he wielded on the High Father’s behalf, were on a level equal those of a typical legion surgeon. Stiger felt no need to call the paladin to his side. He had a feeling that when it was time, Father Thomas would be there.

  “Any idea on casualties?” Stiger asked Salt.

  “Last I heard,” Salt said, “and this was an hour ago, somewhere north of four hundred all told. No real breakdown yet. The cost’s likely higher by now.”

  Stiger gave a slow nod. Four hundred was such a large number. The number of casualties was sure to grow. Stiger considered visiting the wounded, but then disregarded the idea. There would be time for that later.

  That was, if he survived his coming encounter with the minion.

  Instead, Stiger made his way back to the platform and climbed back up. Salt and Therik followed him up the ladder. Resting his hands upon the railing, Stiger turned his attention back to the fight, carefully studying what he saw. The clouds above had thickened and the moonlight had diminished. From what he could see, it looked much as it had when he left. The artillery continued to fire and the bolt throwers cracked away. Balls screamed by overhead, and the archers continued to rain death on those near the trench.

  Like an immoveable steel wall, the legion held the line, keeping the enemy from climbing over the barricade. The position that had been constructed here was unyielding, and it clearly showed in the terrible toll they were wreaking on the enemy.

  “How many casualties do you think they’ve suffered?” Stiger asked Salt.

  “If I had to guess, sir,” Salt said, his eyes sweeping the bowl, “somewhere around eleven thousand, perhaps even twelve. It’s hard to tell exactly. They’ve packed themselves in tight down there.”

  “And we just sent a similar number on a flanking movement,” Stiger said.

  “Exactly, sir,” Salt said.

  “How can your people keep coming?” Stiger asked, turning to Therik. “They go to certain death.”

  “They throw themselves on your swords,” Therik said, sounding thoroughly disgusted. “My people go to everlasting life for Castor.”

  Therik spat over the side of the platform.

  “This is all about belief,” Salt said, shaking his head

  “That and rage,” Stiger said.

  At a fundamental level, Stiger had always known it came down to belief. He and his side followed the High Father’s teachings. The orcs followed Castor. It all boiled down to faith and who would hold the key to the future of this world each side called home. It was why they were here, on this battlefield, willingly slaughtering each other. Stiger eyed Therik and wondered what it would have been like to live in peace with such a race. Was it even possible?

  Below them, the change out of First Cohort had begun. Sabinus’s cohort had been arranged into four ranks, with the front rank engaged and holding the line. Those not directly locked in fighting stepped back and away as Seventh Cohort moved up and took their place. When everything was ready, and the men of the Seventh were in position, a whistle was blown and those holding the line stepped rapidly back. Seventh Cohort stepped forward and into their places. It was efficiently done, and Stiger was pleased to see it handled so well. There was very little disruption.

  Only one orc had managed to get halfway over the wall before receiving several jabs from swords and being bashed backward by a shield. The ladder was pushed back off the wall a moment later.

  Without any real delay, Sabinus had First Cohort form up for march, which Stiger supposed surprised the men and likely pissed them off. They would’ve thought they had been pulled off the line for a breather. Instead, Stiger was sending the legion’s best cohort into mortal danger worse then what they had just endured. Though Stiger couldn’t hear it over the sound of the fighting, the order was given to march.

  Sabinus turned, looked up at Stiger, and gave him a crisp salute. Stiger returned the salute. Sabinus spun on his heel and began marching with his men.

  Had he made the right decision? In five hours it would be sunrise. Stiger watched First Cohort march off into the night. He had a terrible feeling he hadn’t.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “Sir.” A legionary, having climbed up to the platform, saluted. The first hints of the sky lightening were behind him. “This just came into headquarters. Nepturus said you would want to see it straight away.”

  Stiger took the dispatch, opened it, and scanned the contents.

  “Sabinus and Setinnunus have made good time of it,” Stiger said to Salt. Therik looked over curiously. “One bridge has been deployed and they have begun their crossing. At the time of writing this, Sabinus estimates he has forty percent of his force across. The other bridge should be in place within a couple of hours.”

  “That is impressive,” Salt said. “Any sign of the enemy?”

  “Sabinus says there is no sign of them. He believes the enemy to be ignorant of our crossing the river,” Stiger said.

  Sabinus had also thanked him for sending along Theo. Apparently, there was very little love lost between Thigra and Chovhog. Theo had worked to keep their mutual animosity for each other in check and both chieftains apart.

  “Thank you,” Stiger said to the legionary and handed back the dispatch. “I will not have a reply.”

  The legionary saluted again and climbed back down the ladder.

  Stiger turned back to the fighting. The intensity of the enemy’s assault had lessened over the last hour. The orcs seemed to be making less of an effort.

  “They are getting tired, sir,” Salt said. He did not even have to shout to be heard. This told Stiger much about the intensity of the fighting across the entire line, the ends of which were lost in the gloom of night. “They may be compelled to call off their assault soon just to regroup.”

  Stiger agreed. A number of the enemy below were drawing back and away from the walls. They were losing their will to fight, which was a good thing, for the men on the line needed a break. Stiger had no illusions about the rest of the enemy army, which was fresh and rested. Most of it had not yet become engaged. The enemy had plenty of reserves.

  “They send more,” Therik said. “When they come next, they no fool around. They send best warriors. You see trolls, too.”

  “Great,” Stiger said.

  “Excuse me, sir.”

  Another legionary had climbed up. He saluted and held out a dispatch. Stiger took
and opened it. He recognized Brogan’s seal. Thankfully it was written in common. They had traded several messages within the past few hours as Brogan’s army left the mountain.

  “Brogan’s army is almost to the crossing,” Stiger said. “At the time this was written, he was a mile away, which means he’s already likely there.”

  “That’s right good news, sir,” Salt said. “Best news I’ve heard all night.”

  “Brogan’s army is fourteen thousand strong,” Stiger said as he continued reading. Stiger’s last dispatch to the thane had requested the dwarven army’s strength. “He was forced to leave two thousand warriors in Old City to protect the civilians. It seemed the goblins attacked the dwarven population, causing a great loss of life.”

  Stiger handed the dispatch over to Salt. The old soldier’s eyes were not as good as Stiger’s, and in the dim light he had to hold it close to even read it. After he had scanned the contents, Salt handed the dispatch back to Stiger.

  “Even with the reduction in numbers, it’s still good news, sir,” Salt said. “Brogan brings fourteen thousand more than we had. That brings the strength of the flanking column up dramatically.”

  “It does,” Stiger said and turned to the legionary. “Thank you. Tell Nepturus I shall have a reply shortly.”

  The legionary saluted and left.

  Stiger glanced up. The sky had become overcast, with the moon only occasionally visible through a cloud. It was possible another storm was on the way. Stiger hoped that was not the case, for it would mean combat operations would become more difficult and time-consuming, especially in light of his flanking movement.

  The sky had begun to lighten slightly, but due to the cloud cover, the ground was still shrouded in near darkness, lit only by dim moonlight. Across the river, the fires from the enemy’s camp glittered back at him like a star-filled night.

  Even though the flanking movement would soon number twenty-five thousand, they would still be outnumbered. Worse, the minion likely knew what Stiger intended. If so, why had there been no scouts along the river near where Sabinus had set up his bridges? That really bothered him.