Ramin tapped at the map with a forefinger. “We can’t afford to gallivant around the countryside hunting them down, either. Bait and pull?”
“We’ll have to,” Darius agreed. “Or somehow herd them all together. There’s two natural barriers that will help us, if we use them correctly.”
“Two?” Baros objected. “I assume one of them is the badlands above Arape, but what’s the other?”
“Serrati.” Darius grinned when the man groaned. “We’ve tried to conquer Serrati for nearly a hundred years and did nothing but lose. They count as a natural defensive barrier, in my book. They’re not about to let the barbarians inside their borders.”
Roshan cleared his throat, a little intimidated by the lofty company, but still willing to try and voice a question. “Are they really that formidable?”
“They really are,” Darius answered forthrightly, pleased the boy wasn’t so cowed that he clammed up entirely. “In fact, we might be able to use that a little to our advantage. We’ll see. The main thing I want to focus on is how to pull them in and where to drive them to. I’m not sure of the how, not yet, but I do have a spot I’d like to face them on.”
Giving him a sideways look, Baros asked in resignation, “I’m not going to like this. Am I.”
“Not at all,” Darius admitted frankly, palms splayed. “But it really is the best defensive position.” Reaching out, he pointed to the spot directly north of Ruralcalba, not far at all from the city’s northern gates. “Here.”
Baros glared at him. “You want to bait them to come directly at the richest prize in the whole Sovran.”
“I’ll need that kind of bait to pull them all into the same area,” Darius pointed out, rational and calm, not really worried about the anger he could feel pouring off Baros. “But that’s not the only reason. Ruralcalba sits on a natural rise, surrounded by hills. It’s a natural defensive stance. Best yet, there’s a shallow depression just north, usually a wash during the heavy summer rains, but it’s dry at this time of the year. Those two facets combined make a natural funnel. We can restrict the barbarians’ movements, cage them in, and surround them on all sides if we can pull them in here.”
Ramin let out a low whistle. “That would be one for history, alright; a perfect defense and offense in one. And the Baiji? Would you use them as a forward advance or a rear attack?”
“Likely a forward advance,” Darius responded slowly, thinking it through as he spoke out loud. “Hide them behind the walls, have them come through the main gate as a surprise attack. We won’t be able to draw the barbarians in unless they think it’s a last ditch effort at defense. We’ll have to appear weak enough to take, despite our having the high ground.”
Staring at him hard, Baros asked, “How much did you know about the situation before I briefed you?”
“Not much, why?”
Shaking his head, the king huffed a sound that might have been a strangled laugh. Or a groan. “Your mind terrifies me sometimes. You thought of all of this just as we waited on your staff?”
What a nice compliment. Darius winked at him and bent back toward the map. “So we know the end goal, we just have to figure out how to set this up properly. We’ll only get one chance at this. If we miss the timing, we’ll not have much to fall back on. Baros, the people in Madani, where are they?”
“Scattering every direction. I had Behnam send word to come here, but I think most of them tried Arape. Or retreating out of the towns, waiting the invaders out.”
Not good. Darius shook his head with a frown. “We need to get them out of there. Roshan, first step in dissuading an invading force?”
“Salt earth policy,” Roshan rattled out immediately. “Take up all supplies, burn all the crops, and take the people out of the area so the invaders have nothing to forage from. Then, if possible, cut off their supply trains so they have no support.”
“Very good,” Darius approved, reaching over to tousle the boy’s hair. Catching the interested look on Baros’s face, he said, “Roshan is also my brother-in-law. He’s lived with me for the past eighteen months.”
Intrigued, Baros suggested, “After this is over, we should talk about having him stay in Brindisi, foster him here for a few years.”
While the idea might have some merit, maybe, it terrified Darius. “My wife would murder me in my own bed. Don’t even suggest that. Besides, I’m not through with him, not by a long shot.”
Not at all dissuaded, Baros just smiled. “We’ll talk about it later. Back to this. You’re seriously suggesting scorching Madani?”
With some sympathy, Darius responded, “Madani will be scorched either way. The barbarians will ravage the place to the ground, you know that. If we do it preemptively they won’t be able to use or loot anything. We need that advantage. Also, it will force them further south, as they either have to come into Brindisi or retreat outright. They risk starvation otherwise.”
Baros gave a flick of the fingers and grimace, an unhappy agreement.
“The towers are still operational?” Darius checked, thinking hard.
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. We’ll need them. We’ve hired the Night Raiders and are expecting them to join us here.” At Baros’s questioning look, Darius explained simply, “Badlands.”
Enlightenment spread over Baros’s face, but not his staff’s, so Darius clarified, “The badlands are a pitfall of dangers, but there’s a few narrow paths that local people use. Mostly miners, as there’s some silver and gold deposits to be found up there. If we can get the Night Raiders in place swiftly enough, I can hire some of the miners as guides, bring them safely through, and hit the barbarians from behind, forcing them south. Then they can retreat back through the badlands without worry of reprisal.”
Navid nodded as if this was an order. “I’ll work with them. You’ll make contact, sir?”
“Yes, my family name will be enough to get it set up.” Sometimes being his father’s son gave him more power and connections than being a general, and Darius didn’t hesitate to use it. “We’ll work together on this, as the timing has to be exact.”
“Yes, sir.”
To Baros, Darius ordered, “Send word to Behnam that I’m here and coming, but I need to get to Serrati first.”
“Will you slow down?” Baros requested, exasperated and weary. “You have a bad habit of racing ahead when you’ve got an idea.”
“Only sometimes,” Darius protested mildly. “I need to coordinate with Serrati. If they push the barbarians haphazardly, it will send them scattering again. If they will work with us, and I think they will, then they can send the barbarians back at us in a way that optimizes my plan. Also, I think we need to negotiate with them into taking on refugees.” Seeing Baros’s alarm, a protest forming, he held up a hand to stall him. “We’ll likely lose people, yes, but, Baros, I cannot afford for the barbarians to hit upon the idea of taking hostages. We’ll lose more people if we let them run around in panic. I have to give them a safe place to go and hope they choose to return later.”
Baros looked ready to either rage or weep but exhaustion dragged at him, preventing him from doing either. The dark circles under the man’s eyes were enough to tell the story of many sleepless nights. “Must we?”
“I’m open to other ideas, if you have a better one.” Darius waited a pregnant moment, but when Baros slumped in further, he shrugged and continued. “Then I need to speak with Serrati.”
“Shir…” Bohme shifted from one foot to the other, unhappy and uncertain. “Are you shure that’sh wise?”
“We’ll send a message ahead that I need to speak with a negotiator,” Darius assured him. “They’ve never attacked without provocation. Very fair, Serrati is. Baros, I’ll speak to Behnam on the way out, work out a precise plan with him before going to Serrati. I should be there and back within the week. If something goes wrong, or something else happens, use the towers. I’ll stop by when I’m near one and catch up on messages.”
“Understood, I’ll do so. You leave tonight?”
“We don’t have time for me to sleep.”
Baros gave him a look that Darius hadn’t seen in years, one that suggested the king found him foolhardy in the extreme but didn’t see the point of arguing as it would be too exhausting to even try. Darius smiled genially back at him.
Sighing, he instead retreated to a locked chest, opened it with no fanfare, and retrieved a very familiar steel talisman. “General Darius Bresalier, you have command.”
“King Baros, I have command,” Darius responded formally, accepting the talisman and tucking it promptly into an inside pocket.
“Tell the truth,” Baros accused in a low voice. “The real reason why you’re dashing promptly out again is so that you don’t have to argue with my councilors about war funds.”
“Great sands, man, why would I want to do your job? They’re your councilors, you argue with them. My job is to look pretty on a white horse and win battles.”
Baros rolled his eyes, likely praying for patience, while the rest of Darius’s staff snorted a laugh. Darius ignored all of them. He was good at that. “When you’ve beaten them into submission, send me word on what I have to work with. I’ll likely be back at Behnam’s camp by that point. Even emergencies like this one can’t light a fire under those fools.”
Grimacing, Baros didn’t disagree. “I warn you, Behnam is dead set on holding that defensive line. He won’t be amiable to the idea of a retreat, even if it is one of your own making.”
“I’m not surprised to hear that and didn’t expect differently.” Behnam had always been a stubborn leader. It was his strength and his failing. The thing that saved him from being impossible was that he could change his mind, if given a strong enough reason to do so. “Don’t worry, I know how to handle him. For now, send funds so that I can pay for my specialists. I’ll pick it up at Behnam’s camp and pay them myself.”
“Understood.” Baros gave a crooked smile, only one side of his mouth pulling up, the other weighed by sorrow. “I suppose you want to win first before spreading word to the countries of our bargain?”
“That would be best, don’t you think? Don’t mention it to the council just yet, either.”
“Do I look like I was born last night? Of course I’m not telling them that until I absolutely have to.” Stabbing a finger at Darius, he added firmly, “And that meeting you will not wriggle out of.”
“Wriggle?” Darius objected, some part of him relieved at the banter. He and Baros had always been like this, more friends than superior and subordinate or teacher and student. Losing him had hurt Darius as much as losing contact with his family. To have it again warmed his heart. “You make me sound like a fish.”
“And I will put a hook in your mouth if I have to.” Baros had a suspicious twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t think I won’t.”
“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Darius had to fight to keep a smile off his face, as they both knew he really would find a hook and try for it. Not that he’d succeed. “I’ll keep that in mind. Your Majesty.”
“As well you should. General,” he sniped back and for a moment actually looked his age. “Now, off with you. You have barbarians to vanquish and impossible negotiations to broker.”
“Don’t remind me,” Darius groaned. Truly, he had only a limited idea of how to handle Serrati. He grabbed Baros in a quick, fierce embrace, thumped his shoulder once, then let go, grabbed all of the reports that he needed from the desk, and strode for the door. “I’ll be back soon. Soonish. Oh, and Baros?”
“Yes, Darius,” Baros responded with forced patience.
“When the Baiji arrive, make sure they have plenty of food and wine. They’ll be perfectly unpleasant guests otherwise.”
No one could leave the city in the dead of night, of course, the gates were firmly shut. Even the other ways Darius knew of wouldn’t work as he couldn’t get a body of men, much less their horses, through. He hadn’t any intention of trying, anyway, he just couldn’t afford to stay in the palace. If the council caught him, they’d spend the next three weeks arguing with him on what to do, and by then it would be too late and the enemy would be pounding on their gates. Darius hadn’t been joking, earlier. Wrangling those fools was Baros’s job. Winning the war was Darius’s.
They spent most of the dark hours of the morning making tentative plans from the numbers the reports generated, but eventually gave up and caught a few hours’ sleep before rising again with the morning sun. Darius needed to see the situation with his own eyes and speak with Behnam as soon as humanly possible. The man supposedly sat a three days’ ride north of the capital, and Darius prayed he hadn’t shifted, as any change right now might detrimentally affect his plans.
Darius made it all of two steps into the stable yard behind the inn before his instincts sent him into a sharp crouch and roll. He hit the paving stones a little harder than his jostled shoulder cared for, but didn’t let that zing of pain slow him down and came up again onto his feet with sword in hand.
Not that he needed to.
Tolk and Bohme, their reflexes apparently sharper than his at this insane dawn hour, had already leapt into the fray. Darius got a quick head count before he engaged. Twelve? Perhaps less, he couldn’t get an accurate number with the way people fought and twisted in and around each other.
Navid managed to get out the door, but Kaveh, Ramin, and Roshan stayed wedged inside the doorway with no room to get back out. Darius found himself grateful, even if it made the fight a little harder on him, as it meant Roshan had two dedicated fighters at his side to protect him.
He spun into position, putting his back to Bohme with practiced ease, the impact of a sword meeting his own hitting hard and racing up his shoulder. Grimacing, he focused on keeping his feet and preventing anything sharp and metal from finding his guts.
His attackers knew no shame, certainly, as every one of them wore the uniforms of the Sovran Army. More than one angry set of eyes glared at him. He’d seen kinder eyes on contract killers.
Darius blessed the fact they chose to ambush him here, as it was tight quarters, and kept them from being overwhelmed. By the way they scrambled to face his group, he had the feeling he’d foiled their plans by coming out the back.
From the second story window, arrows appeared, shot with commendable aim at the fighters not actively engaged. Four went down in quick succession. More than one archer up there, then, and Darius smiled as he recognized the handiwork. Kaveh had wicked aim and had taught Roshan every trick he knew over the past year.
Two more fell in quick succession, under Bohme and Tolk’s hands. Not to be outdone, Darius quickly dispatched his opponent as well, leaving only five men to face and evening the odds significantly.
Whoops, make that four.
Three.
Alright, now his two archers were just showing off.
The last soldier standing scrambled backwards, nearly back peddling as he realized that they had bitten off more than they could chew. Tolk leapt forward and snagged the man by the arm, pinning him ferociously to the ground, cheek to paving stone and his arm twisted up unnaturally behind his back. Tolk hissed, “Still.”
Snarling and unhappy, his captive reluctantly obeyed.
Darius took a good look around the stable yard but nothing else leapt out of the shadows. The animals stirred uneasily at the scent of blood and the echoes of combat still lingering in the small courtyard, but even they settled when nothing else happened. Cleaning off his sword with a quick swipe, he rammed it back home before commenting, “No need for any tea. I’m awake now.”
Ramin came to stand at his elbow, surveying the damage with a sad shake of the head. “You said it wouldn’t be possible to enter or leave this city without being ambushed by unhappy fanatics. I hoped you’d be wrong.”
“Me too,” Darius commiserated. “I guess my subterfuge skills need more work.” Craning his neck around he offered to the two leaning out of the windows, “Good shooting.”
&nb
sp; Kaveh and Roshan gave him salutes before ducking back inside.
Nudging one corpse with the toe of his boot, Navid asked, “Now what? Report it?”
“To Baros,” Darius agreed sanguinely. With the danger passed, he felt the pressing need to leave the city before anything else happened. “I told him that inviting me into this city was a bad idea and he insisted anyway. Therefore, he gets to clean this mess up.”
Bohme quirked an eyebrow, amusement tugging his mouth up into a smile. “You make the king clean up your messh?”
“It’s his mess,” Darius maintained, struggling not to smile, “And yes, I most certainly will.”
~~~
It took an hour for Baros to come and survey the damage, issue orders, and so forth. Darius felt it reflected Baros’s position that he felt it necessary to come in person to deal with the bungled assassination. Baros was less than amused by the whole situation and let everyone know it in loud, grandly tones that sent more than one person scurrying for cover.
Darius didn’t know who had ordered the attack and frankly didn’t care. That was Baros’s problem to deal with. He’d already been delayed two hours because of this nonsense and didn’t have any more time to spare. With a salute to Baros, he ordered everyone into saddles and left.
They rode hard north. Darius studied the passing countryside, as he needed to know if anything had changed, but from what he could tell, not much had. This part of Tatvan saw a great deal of grassland and farmland, with copses of trees more than actual forests. People tended to build walls and homes out of stones, as there was an overabundance of them in the area. For the most part it looked peaceful, green and thriving as early spring should be, but a second glance told a different story. There lay a strange absence over the farms and towns they passed. A distinct lack of life, sound, traffic on the road, and any hint of everyday bustle. People either had departed already, searching for safer climes, or had locked down tightly into their own communities, for all the good that would do them.
Sovran at War (Kingslayer Book 2) Page 9