Waking Olympus (The Singers of the Dark Book 1)

by Peter Yard

  “We have positioned forward units of crossbows and fire-grenades above various choke points. We have engineered various boulders so that we can block narrow areas, and we have a large ground force. Not enough to match them on open ground but very good in these kinds of conditions.”

  “And if they come via the desert?” Tei voiced her fear.

  “There has always been a chance that they would discover the path to Tanten. That is why the Strongholds are built the way they are. But, yes, that would be a problem.”

  “You mean my problem.” They both smiled.

  She went on the tour, discussing deployment, strategy, and men. That night she met with Ayo’s people. Good, loyal Traders. This was what being a Trader was about; the joy of intelligent discussion, quiet respect and tall stories from such strong and resourceful people. The next morning she returned to the Keep.

  It was on the fourth day of her preparations that the message came.

  “Mistress Valis! There is a message from Sanfran.” The rider was still panting, holding out his hand with the sealed letter. His leather clad arm and armor visibly dropping desert dust and sand; here and there mingling with sweat. He had ridden through the desert almost without stopping, in armor. Dangerous, he should have changed into loose desert gear.

  “Just call me Tei.” She opened the letter and noticed the messenger was still there, looking about. He was young, awed, standing in the Council Chambers. But he wasn’t actually that much younger than she was. “What is your name?”

  “Cam. My lady. Cameron Ollis, I am from Tanfel. Got recruited by Mikel Peres at the Caravanserai.”

  “How is he?” She really needed to know. Dammit love messes everything up.

  “I’m not sure, after he defeated the Lindin army he headed north to Xanadu.”

  “What? Just tell me the details.”

  “A relief force of Center soldiers arrived in Sanfran, with advanced weapons, they had just defeated the Pareth forces, so I heard. I don’t know the details but they couldn’t help after that. Mikel set an ambush in the Euphray marshes and routed the Lindin forces. Then he set off north into Xanadu even though he had been hit in the neck by a crossbow bolt.”

  To her credit she barely reacted outwardly to any of this news. Inwardly, she was on the verge of shaking. She spoke, measuring her words precisely.

  “How was he when he left?”

  “In a lot of pain but he was lucky. Tarvis went with him and he said that Mikel shouldn’t have any problems.”

  “Why did he go to the Xanadu Valley?”

  “I’m sorry my lady, none of us knew.”

  “That will be all Cameron. Go and get cleaned up and rest, you can get some food and drink from the mess downstairs. Don't forget the essentials, make sure you drink plenty of water first.”

  Levin had been listening. “Mikel continues to surprise us. But this new journey of his looks crazy. What is he up to? Whatever it is it can’t help us. If we get out of this alive, and if he does, then we will ask him ourselves. Impressive beating Lindin. How on Neti would he do that? And what kind of weapons does Lind have? And Center forces defeating Pareth? That is fortuitous and ominous. More questions to answer. Too much to do, too much to do. Not enough time.” Tei let him chatter on. Levin had always seemed to be quite capable, even brilliant, if a little eccentric.

  Tei rose early. She now slept in the Keep, not even bothering to walk the short distance from her home. There was little time before Bethor arrived. The scouts had arrived this morning and left an urgent message for her before she had awoken. She rubbed her face with her left hand trying to fully wake while she read the brief report in her right hand. Cam Ollis was still in the Keep, acquired by Levin as an assistant. He had received the message. “What does it say?” He said.

  “Scouts at the northern end of the Pass report that the Bethor army is massing there. Probably preparing to enter. Estimated size of the army is about 10,000.”

  “We can’t hope to match that.” Cam said.

  “No, we can’t. But they must have depleted a lot of their provisions. They cannot sustain a long siege. There are no farms and little game on their side of the Pass. They need to conquer us quickly. We have intelligence that the army is being led by Liz Markham.”

  Ben's face slowly registered understanding. “You mean a relative of Roger Markham? The man who destroyed the Cities of the Plains?”

  She nodded. “Not a close relative. She changed her name to Markham in her early teens, so they say. I met her once in Bethor. Smart and shrewd. It was a dinner at the Emperor’s castle. She persistently tried to get information out of me about Tanten. Made me very uncomfortable. They say her husband's death was mysterious. Those that suspect her keep a very low profile. The woman is a viper.”

  Tei couldn’t suppress the wild suspicion that Bethor’s war was a result of that ambition. It doesn’t take many people to lead a majority into disaster.

  Master Levin entered and motioned to Cam. Whispered something in his ear and then Cam darted out of the Chambers.

  “I have sent him to join Ayo at the Pass. Bethor is moving. They have entered the Pass, fighting has started at the first of the choke point forts. We are getting signals relayed by Morse and semaphore.”

  “I should go too. I’m not much use here. Everything is prepared.”

  Levin motioned as if to stop her, reaching out his hand, but changed his mind. “Good luck, Tei. Don’t stay there, we need careful planners here in case something happens.”

  The Pass was a frenzy. Instead of the random clamor of noise and activity when she last visited there was orderly packing, cavalry units moving north, foot soldiers moving north, wagons of war machines. The war machines included trebuchets, giant crossbows, wagons of ammunition of all kinds. She saw a wagon that was about to depart, it had a thick layer of straw containing glass bottles a little larger than a human head. She walked up to the driver, hands on the reins waiting his turn to join the convoy. He saw her and raised his right hand. “Mistress Tei.”

  “Easy there, soldier. What's in the bottles?”

  “The Librarians and Master Levin have arranged the manufacture of glass bottles containing chlorine and a gas called phosgene. They are supposed to be poisonous. We have passed on instructions for safe use. They will be used on the elevated outposts. We have some small trebuchets on the sides of the mountains overlooking the approaches to the forts, real hero work getting trebs up there. They also have those new spyglasses. Have you seen them? Master Mikel showed one of the glassmakers how they are made when he was here. Now all the commanders want one, but the scouts had the first ones.”

  “How did he find the time to show anyone how they are made. Ah. Of course, he lived in the Artisan quarters, probably just wandering about being friendly, and sparking a revolution. Typical.” She smiled to herself.

  She let the wagon go. Its turn in the convoy had come.

  She had thought she had spared a horror by preventing the manufacture of the nerve gas. But still poison gas was on its way north somehow. You think you prevent one problem and it is done; but it is never done. There was an old saying about ‘eternal vigilance’ but she couldn’t remember it properly. Preventing evil requires eternal vigilance, that is what it should have said. But in amongst all the evil that was about to happen would it even matter? No way to tell.

  She rode north. The mountains towering above her; white topped. The cold breeze in her face, air rushing down the mountain sides. Mist rising in the narrow valley, the roar of the Tanuuten now dominating everything. The horse beneath her was a favorite, good natured, a companion to explore such places with. In the distance pinpoint flashes of light too regular to be coincidence. Messages in the Morse telling about deployments. Now and then similar flickers of light from the sides of the mountains brief staccato statements: enemy 5k; enemy scouts 2k. Both sides of the valley. Clever, the trebuchets should be able to reach across the river but the enemy couldn’t pursue them, the river was a
bsolutely treacherous at this time of the year. But they would not be easily resupplied either.

  Although there were numerous choke points along the road, all defended, there were only three that allowed the building of defensive forts. The three forts were originally numbered but somewhere in the past had picked up odd names whose meaning was long lost. A forward observation post was also named, but that post had long ago become ruins. Baby Bear: the observation post, had a high vantage point but difficult to defend in spite of that. Mamma Bear: the northern most fort, here the attacker is less disadvantaged than the other forts. Pappa Bear: a nasty chokepoint of crossfire opportunity for the defenders making an effective killing zone. Goldilocks: the dual fort at the southern end of the pass. Large, extremely well defended, crossfire from the opposite bank, trivially resupplied; ideal for the defender, worst case for the attacker.

  She walked about Goldilocks Fort for an hour. Talking casually to soldiers and officers. Letting them know they could come to her at anytime with their concerns. Before she left she read the Morse; Mamma Bear was under full attack and being resupplied. Wagons and troops moved north to Pappa Bear and Mamma Bear. The breeze in the Pass had moved from northerly to a southerly direction as it did during the day.

  The trebuchets would be arming with the glass balls soon.

  She returned to the Keep just before dusk. Hungry and tired she sat down in the mess room to catch her breath and try to relax while eating. Master Levin happened to be there sitting at another table in the room. She almost hadn’t seen him in this dim lamplight. She sat down opposite him and without even a “hello” started to rattle off a report of what she had seen.

  So much for manners. Levin seemed diminished somehow, exhausted.

  “Levin, when did you last sleep?”

  “Don’t remember. So much to do.”

  “Go grab a few hours at least. We all need to build up our reserves for what’s coming.” She almost choked on that last bit. No one really knew what was coming. The odds were on their side. She hadn’t thought about the larger strategy: what would they do after this, would they take the Cities, were the Cities too strong, could they handle a war of attrition with Bethor, would they win this battle but lose the war? All the answers that came to her mind were so bleak. Maybe she was tired. Levin had left to grab some sleep. She should probably follow her own advice.

  A guard woke her. She was holding a fiery torch that was dazzling.

  Tei was dazed and confused. No dreams. It seemed like moments ago she had just got into bed. Out of the small high window in this room the night had a tinge of blue; dawn wasn't here yet but it would not be far away.

  The guard stood there, fear in her eyes, panting.

  “Yes. What is it?”

  “Councillor. We have received an urgent request via Morse. Relayed from the borders of the western forest. They are under attack.”

  “What!” She jumped out of the bed, instantly awake. A moment of panic gripped her.

  “It appears the enemy has sent another force via the southern flanks of the Uutens.”

  “No shit?” The guard stood still, frozen, the torch shaking slightly.

  “Yes. Good deduction. What is your name? Rank?”

  “Karin Planka, Messenger.”

  “Well Karin, go tell Master Levin about this. Meanwhile, I will raise the alarm.” She strode out of the room, still pulling on her clothes. She saw a man walking down the hall away from her, captain decals on his shoulder. She didn’t know his name. “Captain.”

  “Yes, Councillor.”

  “By my order, raise the alarm for this Keep. I will signal the Strongholds that we are under attack from the western forest.”

  “Yes, the western forest …” For just a moment he looked stunned, he knew what that meant. “Yes. Immediately, Councillor.”

  She dashed upstairs, pushing through the door onto the roof. There were some guards standing about looking to the northwest.

  "Soldier!" They all turned.

  "You and you! Light the signal fires and send morse to the Strongholds. We are under attack from the western forest. Do it now!"

  She waited until the fires were lit and the messages sent. Then ordered two of the soldiers to commandeer horses and ride to the Strongholds to confirm that the alarm had been raised in each of them.

  "Do not return until you have confirmed the alarm has been raised in all of them. If anyone is stupid enough not to raise the alarm then one of you come back to me and I will deal with it personally."

  She dashed downstairs, still partly undressed she noticed, counting off the seconds. In the Council Chambers all of the Councillors currently in the Castle were present. Outside she could hear the alarm bell ringing, and trumpets. A gathering din of activity underneath it all. Levin was addressing those present.

  “Further. The latest reports indicate that Goldilocks Fort is besieged and the supply column destroyed. The fort has most of its defense works designed for an assault from the north, not from behind. They are holding on, but report that their supplies of bolts and trebuchet munitions are low. They also report that Pappa Bear is under assault and supplies will not last much longer.”

  “What about Mamma Bear?” She knew what the report implied but found herself reflexively asking the question.

  “Fallen. No known survivors.”

  Even from the top of the Keep the sun still had not risen. To the north and slightly to the west there were distant flickering fires. Battle. Here and there were faint traces of light from messaging. She automatically translated the desperate, fragile twinkling.

  “Supplies low. Many dead. Half strength. Capt Plessi dead.” She felt a stab through her heart. One of the great people of her life gone, just like that, with a feeble winking light.

  There was no time for grief and it hadn’t fully hit yet. She needed to think rationally. Perhaps going over what happened would snap her out of it. The enemy must have used the cover of the forest to mask their approach. No one had any accurate idea of their numbers. It wouldn’t be as large as the army that was coming down the Pass. It would be a smaller, rapidly moving force of seasoned troops most likely. Using surprise to make up for their lack of numbers. Well, they certainly got the ‘surprise’ part right.

  Then it occurred to her that that was why the waypoints on the map had dates. Why put dates? So you can coordinate with someone, especially at the moment of attack. She cursed herself under her breath for not seeing it sooner. Self recrimination solved nothing, she put it aside.

  Down in the courtyard she could hear the mustered men and women, hastily called into service being put together for a relief force. The way there would be treacherous if they had lost the forest. She tried to think of strategies but there were no obvious ones. Not enough cover, too little knowledge of the enemy deployment. All she could do was wave at them as they made their way out of the gate. Above the gate the beacon fires were being kept alight though now blankets were being raised by hands in front of them: up, down, up, down. A warning to anyone approaching from the desert. The simplest of signals, it meant simply, “ATTACK”. Anyone seeing it would immediately turn back to the Caravanserai and report. Word would quickly spread but there really was not much that could be done to aid Tanten. All the while the bell sounded, muffled at her vantage point.

  The sun was coming up. It was going to be a hell of a day.

  There was no more word from the Forts, it was presumed they had fallen. The Strongholds were now coming under attack, and if the Forts were gone then the attack would be by the combined enemy forces.

  The four larger trebuchets now located on the roof of the Keep were launching continuously. Smaller ones located at reinforced positions along the walls. The counterweight trebuchets were heavy but that was what they were using. The Records had designs for much more advanced ones but they did not have the time, and likely skill, to build them. Small, odd-looking hand held ones were being used on the walls. The artillery was being used to throw any
thing at the enemy. Poisonous gas, fire bombs, rocks. The enemy had first attacked Shwu Stronghold being the first one in their path, but had come under immediate attack from the long range artillery from Shwu and Castle when they went for Shwu’s gate; they were caught in a crossfire. They had retreated, now knowing that they could not venture anywhere close to the main gate of Shwu since it was facing Castle. There had been a break of an hour or so and then the enemy had moved this time aiming to take the Castle, avoiding crossfire as much as possible from the other Strongholds. They would have to attack via the Snake.

  But that didn’t work out well at all. They retreated and a short time later attacked again. This time pushing straight at the fortifications of the Snake at the southern end of the western wall; they seemed to intend to overwhelm the Snake ramparts and head straight for the gate. There were armored troops and ladders, other equipment. Tei had left the Keep to see for herself from the Western Wall. The area below had become a slaughter ground, but still they persisted. Fire, bolts, and rocks rained down on them. And bolts flew up. Looking down to see what was happening was not for the faint hearted. It appeared Bethor had no intention of settling in for a siege. Tei found that curious; unless they feared attack from another quarter and wanted this over and done with as quickly as possible. No time to speculate.

  From the ramparts it was hard to see the battlefield. Some fire bombs had been dropped, sticky masses of burning oily material with a small, fragile pottery container of oil and water that would spread fire on impact. It made a lot of smoke, while the easterly wind was causing an updraft on the leeward side of the Castle carrying the smoke and sound to the defenders. Now and then the smoke would part and there would be a writhing mass, like rotten meat teeming with maggots. Firebombs exploding, bolts whizzing, men and women screaming; a lot of screaming. Some of their troops had scouted the eastern wall of the Castle keeping out of range of bolts, but the eastern side was sheer, floored with a chaos of jagged rocks. The attack would remain with the western and perhaps the southern wall, though that was even better defended.