Aran frowned his quick anger fading, “Very well, although I cannot understand why he seems so overly solicitous about her welfare. Alissa is betrothed and queen-to-be. Surely he can have no plans towards her now?”
Darven brow drew in, “You’d think not, yet I feel that he has not quite renounced his desire for her.”
Aran chewed his lower lip, “I wonder why Alissa tolerates his continued interest?”
Darven grinned, “I don’t think she does…” the Wolf Leader grinned mirthlessly. “Else why the reminder about him knowing that she was able to defend herself from any over lusty man, and the parting comment about soldiers not bothering the woman who will be their future queen”
His sudden anger subsiding, Aran relaxed back in his seat after hearing that, “I trust Alissa, she is more than able to look after herself.” He looked across at his friend, “Although it only reinforces the right of something I must do tonight.”
“What’s that?”
Aran shook his head and put his finger to his lips indicating that he would say no more.
*
“My lord...”
Aran looked up to see one of the Legion Commanders trying to attract his attention. Tall the man was, with jet black hair and closely barbered beard, and dressed in the off-duty Legion dress of blood-red cloak, a belted, knee-length quilted long-sleeved tunic, and heavy wool leggings cross-gartered to just below the knee.
“Captain Commander,” Aran replied waiting to let the soldier introduce himself.
The black bearded man bowed, and nodded “Sire, I am Captain Commander Terdec of the First Sentinal Legion. I have heard that you are a Warriormage, and would like to know your thoughts on the coming campaign.”
Aran frowned, and stared at the circle of soldiers about him. “If I understand correctly Commander Terdec, we are planning on taking the combined Legions of the army through central Andur, and to hold the enemy to the west of the Nay Forest.”
The commander nodded, “Aye lord, we cannot allow the Thakur to advance further into the province. If by chance Eldenton falls, then all the rich farmland and towns of central Andur will lie open before their advance.”
“And what will be our numbers once the Legions from Haulgard arrive?” Aran asked quickly.
“My lord, we estimate close to seven thousand legio, guardsmen and fyrd,” the other replied.
“And what of the enemy?”
“From what the mages have reported, and our own intelligence reckons, twenty thousand are gathering.”
Aran frowned again, “That is almost three to one against us…not good odds. What will our numbers be if the plainsmen join us?”
“My lord, we have information that leads us to believe that the plainsmen can supply almost five thousand mounted archers.”
Aran nodded and did a quick calculation, “That takes our army to twelve thousand and it reduces the odds considerably,” Aran said. “It is obvious to me that we must have the plainsmen with us if we are to have any hope against the Thakur.”
Aran pondered the problem then slowly closed his eyes to let himself access the magepower to see if his new Ability could resolve the situation.
“There may be a way we can reduce the odds,” he said at last, verbalising the solution that had at last presented itself to his mind. “I believe that the enemy will send out a vanguard of a number of their elite troops to secure any important strategic positions ahead of the main army. Now I ask you, what are the most important strategic sites of western Andur?”
The commanders spoke amongst themselves for a minute or two, before Commander Sennar, who had obviously been chosen as nominal Commander of the Camp, replied.
“My lord King, we believe that they will strike for Eldenton, or at least Mount Solstice if they are delayed in their march,” he said. “Coming into winter, the snow will delay them mightily,” he added wryly. “The villages within Nay Forest are closer, but have little strategic value, besides a mounted army will make better time across the plains than slogging it out through the heavily wooded forests.”
Aran nodded, “I agree, they hope to take the rich farmlands of Central Andur, and are obviously not interested in the southern towns of Murgonere and Hallsere.” He looked up and met the eyes of the others, “Besides those towns are situated in Nafeking, and as far as we know, the Thakur are warring against us and not the southern province. They will indeed strike for the north and aim to take the western towns.”
There were nods of agreement all round.
“So until we have word that the plainsmen are riding with us, we still have the problem of three to one odds,” Aran mused then looked up. “Commander Sennar, perhaps you may be able to tell me how many the enemy may commit to an expeditionary force, their vanguard if you like, in order to take Eldenton.”
The soldier scratched his salt and pepper hair, “If I were the enemy, then no less than one and a half to two thousand mounted troops.”
Aran drummed his fingers on his knee in abstract concentration, “I agree. So if we keep in mind that our army may only be just the Legions, Guard and fyrd, then we must then attempt to reduce their numbers to improve the odds in our favour.”
Aran pursed his lips then glanced up again at the waiting soldiers, “Commander Sennar, if I could impose on your knowledge again. What would our numbers be if we only counted the Guard and the mounted companies within the three main Legions?”
The Commander answered immediately, “Five thousand cavalry my lord. The First and Second Legions of Haulgard, Helmsgard and Sentinal are all mounted, whilst the Third and Fourth Legions of those cities are entirely infantry and archers.” He looked across at his young king and his mouth twitched in a half smile, “My lord, are you thinking of waylaying their vanguard before they even reach Eldenton?”
Aran nodded, “Aye…but I hope to meet them even before they reach Mount Solstice. I intend to ride out with the mounted units and set up an ambush west of there. Our greater numbers would hopefully prove disastrous to the enemy, and they would be routed.”
“What form would this ambush take?” asked Darven, deeply interested.
Aran grinned at his friend, “Oh…concealed pits, defenses of sharpened stakes and the like.”
There was enthusiastic nodding from all the Legion Commanders at that.
“My lord, many of my legion’s cavalry are experienced with the short stabbing spear as well as the thrown javelin,” Terdec interrupted. “Although the sword is and has always been our primary weapon, we are certainly more than effective with other mounted weapons…”
“And what of the infantry?” asked Commander Druec quietly.
Aran looked up and met the young Commander’s eyes stonily, “I plan to keep the infantry in reserve for the massed battles that lie ahead. For this initial ambush, I need to have a swiftly moving force that can get into position quickly, then have a few days grace to dig in and construct the defensive pits and banks that will be necessary for the trap to succeed.”
“So what will happen after the ambush?” Drucec asked.
Aran smiled grimly, “The cavalry will retreat back a way to meet the infantry Legions, and there we will wait for the main force of the Thakur. I’d rather choose our battleground, and not march into any snares or traps set by the enemy.”
“So where will the infantry meet with the cavalry?” asked Captain Taran, puzzling over the map of the province spread across the table.
Aran stood and walked over to the map, immediately his finger speared down to a point on the leather. “There, just west of Mount Solstice. They will be marching soon and I doubt we will have time enough to take the fight further westwards.” He glanced at the map again, “The ambush will be located a day or two ride further west. The mounted companies will surely be able to reach that point in the time we have available to us.”
Captain Taran stared at the map and nodded his agreement.
“But why should we retreat at all?” asked Terdec hurriedly. “
I mean surely after the ambush we can carry the battle right to their very borders.”
Aran shook his head, “In doing so we risk overextending our supply lines. I don’t like the idea of the enemy advancing any further into the province than absolutely necessary, however if we choose the battleground, it means the war will be fought on our terms and not theirs.”
“And in choosing our battleground it means that the enemy will have overextended supply lines,” commented Darven. “We should assume that they will take Riggeltz immediately. Unfortunately we can’t do anything about that, however between Riggeltz and Mount Solstice is forest and plain…and no farms.” He looked up at the others and grinned; “Besides I am certain the wolves of Nay Forest will not cooperate with any Thakur raiding party.”
“Furthermore our supply lines shall only be a day or two long,” Aran pointed out. “They will only be able to rely upon Riggeltz, whilst we will have the Titan River and the towns of Central Andur behind us. In winter it will be difficult to support and supply such a force with only one town supplying such an overextended army.”
There were nods and murmurs of agreement.
Aran’s face hardened noticeably, “It may sound cold blooded gentlemen, but I mean for the main force of the enemy to come upon the remains of the ambush. If all goes to plan and the Thakur vanguard is routed, then I mean for the Thakur to see the extent of their dead. I want them to see and understand what happens to those who go to war against us.”
*
Chapter 6—The Return to Leigh
The talking and planning of the war council went on for most of the night, and it was near dawn before the various commanders and officers of the army returned to their chilly tents, and welcome blankets. Aran, despite Alem’s absence, quickly threw his clothes off and went straight to bed. Later, when he was close to drifting off to sleep, he recalled that he had been so caught up in the planning of the coming campaign that he had entirely neglected to ask Captain Taran about changing Alissa’s sleeping arrangements. Shrugging to himself, he reasoned that the matter would have to wait until morning, for it would be impolite to trouble the Captain now.
Although the majority of the camp was roused by sunrise, those who had been at the all-night planning session slept late into the morning, and some in fact did not leave their beds until the midday cook-fires were well lit. Despite the comforts of his tent Aran slept badly; and finally and blearily rolled out of bed only an hour or two before the midday. Running his fingers through his tangled hair, he went to the wash basin and briefly threw ice-cold water over his face. The combination of the water and the cold wind nipping in through the flap and cracks in the tent wall spurred Aran into activity, and he speedily changed into warmer and heavier gear. Outside, the freshening westerly wind had at last broken the heavy overcast, and the well-established day was clear and cold with high cirrus clouds overhead. Aran smiled when he saw the blue sky, and pulling his cloak closer about his shoulders went in search of a familiar face.
It was only when he reached the horse lines that he recognised two figures gathered around a dispirited looking dark bay gelding, both Darven and Kiaia were hunkered down next to it, and seemed deep in worried conversation.
“Trouble?” Aran asked, walking up to them.
Darven looked up and smiled briefly at his friend and king.
“Hullo Aran, we don’t know yet…the horse is acting like its foundered, yet we are in the depths of autumn and that condition is usually brought on by the new spring grass.”
Aran pursed his lips, “What’s this founder?”
Kiaia spoke up, “It’s a swelling within the hoof my lord. Usually it happens if the horse is carrying too much weight, or has eaten too much grain, or spring grass.”
Aran looked at the lean gelding, “That doesn’t seem to be the problem. I mean with the frosts we’ve been getting there is very little green feed about. Can it be anything else?”
Kiaia nodded, “Oh any number of things. But the horse has got all of its weight on its back legs, and the front legs are placed forward to take the weight off the front hooves…that is the classic stance of a horse that has foundered, but what confuses me is there are no other symptoms of the disorder.”
Aran patted the gelding’s shoulder, “Perhaps you ought to talk to either a Healermage or an Earthmage. They may be able to help.”
Kiaia nodded at that, “True, I hadn’t thought of the mages…I’ll go directly.”
Aran and Darven watched her hurry off, and then Aran gazing worriedly along the long rows of tethered horses asked, “How are the horses coping?”
“Well enough,” Darven replied, “One or two strained muscles only. There are a couple of sole bruises, and a scattering of girth galls and saddle sores. The grooms are medicating those, and the day or two resting here will help a lot.” He stared across at the camp, “Unfortunately some of the Legions don’t seem to take as much care with their horse’s tack as the Guard, and we’re going to have to replace and repair gear that have been injuring the animals.”
“I’m surprised,” Aran replied irritated. “Cavalry are dependent on their horses, and if they don’t look after their mounts they’ll be going nowhere fast.”
Darven nodded, “I think Kiaia is going to have a quiet word with their grooms. The laxness may be explained by the fact that we’ve not had a war in generations. Men can fall into sloppy habits if a company is not on a war-footing.”
Aran shook his head angrily, “I won’t accept that as an excuse. I mean look at the Guard. They are committed to their training and looking after their gear and horses….”
“The Guard are elite,” Darven interrupted gravely. “It’s taken for granted that they must attain the very highest standard in everything they do. Despite the reputation of the Legions being hard and seasoned soldiers, they are really men who did not pass the vigorous testing for the Guard, and opted for the Legions instead.”
Aran looked up in some surprise, “You mean all these legio once tried for the Guard?”
Darven shook his head, “Yes and no, most went straight to the Legions, but some came first to the Guard.” He grinned at Aran, “You may not be aware of it but we usually get at least thirty novices a year trying for placement at Andur’s Keep. Our last placement was Ban and he’s been with the Guard for at least a year. There’s been no one admitted since.”
Aran smiled wryly his anger gone, “And I just breezed in with only a request from the Archmage to smooth the way.” He met Darven’s eyes, “What if I had not made the grade.”
Darven shrugged his cloak closer about him, “You are a Warriormage…how could you not.”
“True enough,” Aran admitted then glanced at the sky, “However with each hour the weather improves, and I need to catch up with some people in Leigh. Would you like to join me for a ride into the town?”
Darven grinned, “Of course, but I hope you like a crowd. I have promised the Wolves a visit to one of the taverns this afternoon…that is if you can recommend me one.”
Aran laughed and his brow lifted, “By Andur, I was never a great frequenter of taverns.” He smiled at Darven, “Don’t get me wrong for I like a drink as much as the next man, but Sed was the soak in the family. You should be asking him instead of me.”
“If we are going to taverns, it will be likely that we will run into him,” Darven grinned. “I’m only surprised that he hasn’t made his way out here already…”
*
“I went to fetch Alissa,” Aran said to Darven as the King and the Wolf Company rode out of the camp and along the road to Leigh, “But I couldn’t see her anywhere.”
“She’s already in town,” Darven replied, settling his over enthusiastic grey gelding into a sedate walk. “I saw her go in earlier with a couple of the female mages. Planning a shopping expedition most likely,” he added with a grin.
Aran smiled and laughed, “True she has little enough opportunity for that at Andur’s Keep, and we were not long enoug
h in Haulgard for her to look for the markets. I expect they are in their element now…the female mages too.”
Aran’s brow creased suddenly, “You know Darven, it just occurred to me that all through that planning session last night the Archmage did not say a word…I wonder what his mind is on all this?”
Darven frowned, “He’ll most likely tell us tonight. The second stage planning session is scheduled for then. I expect he wanted to talk things over with the highest ranked mages today, before determining how he will commit them in battle.
Aran nodded at that, “Yes I agree. What I understand of the workings of Glaive is although Maran is the Archmage; he really can’t move or make decisions without the full authority of the High Circle of Glaive behind him.”
Darven looked across curiously at his friend, “So he’s just a figurehead.”
Aran quickly shook his head, “Oh no, far from it. Although he is a kind of spiritual leader to them, he does seem to have his own authority in Glaive. Since he was raised to the position through a kind of election of his peers, it would be suicidal for him to cross the Circle or thwart Glaive’s wishes in any way.”
“Suicidal? In what way”
“If he was seen to be acting independently of the wishes of the Circle—against the direction and wishes of Glaive, then he would be deposed as quickly as he was raised by general acclaim.”
“Sounds like he is tied hand and foot to the vagaries of the Circle,” remarked Darven rolling his eyes. “You have more power than him.”
“Indirectly yes,” agreed Aran. “Mind you, if the people aren’t happy with me, or suspect that I don’t have the Province’s welfare at heart, then I guess I would have rebellion and a civil war on my hands.”
Aran’s face tightened in sudden anger, “I have told Alissa that I suspect that Glaive sees itself as a Kingmaker. Sometimes I suspect that once I have provided heirs, I may be deposed as quickly as I was found and raised.”
“But you are a good king,” Darven said quickly, earnestly. “Sire, take my word for it, I have heard no words of anger or dissatisfaction raised against you.”
The High King: Book Two of the 'Riothamus' trilogy Page 20