“Actually, I do have a choice. The Narthani have left, but they might be back. Rumors are that more Narthani troops are on their way here, and they might take back Hanslow and subjugate all of Caedellium. Maybe Hanslow can hold out long enough for that to happen. If more Narthani come, I wonder if the clans would want to expend effort and lives worrying about a single city when there are more important enemies to worry about.”
“Maybe the Narthani will not take back Hanslow,” said Stent. “It will be isolated for an unknown length of time. I guarantee you that if the clans have to take the city by arms, it will not go well for its citizens, and I swear the entire city will be burned to the ground.
“And even if more Narthani come, don’t assume the clans won’t prevail. You’ve seen what is passing down this road.” Stent’s hand motion indicated an Orosz regiment just finishing passing and a Pewitt regiment hard on their heels. “The Narthani are in for an unpleasant surprise, no matter what happens.”
“What of my family and others? What about the future of the Eywell clan?”
“That will be up to an All-Clan Conclave. I would be untruthful if I said there aren’t those who would see retribution for Eywell’s actions, but I believe there would be a degree of mercy, although I can’t predict who it might be applied to.
“Enough talk. I’ll get on my horse. Once I’m in my saddle, your time for a decision is up.” Stent motioned to his aide to bring his horse.
Kollar stood straight. “At least, I can pray for my people to the real God instead of that abominable Narth. I accept your conditions, Hetman. If you allow me to leave, you should see the Eywell flags come down from Hanslow’s walls within half an hour.”
“See that it happens,” said Stent. “Be off with you.”
Kollar and the man carrying the parley flag turned and walked toward the city gate.
“Colonel,” said Stent to the colonel in charge of the regiments assigned to keep Hanslow isolated, “I’m off to Selfcell. I think Kollar means what he said he’ll do, but keep an eye out. If they do surrender the city, collect all the firearms their fighting men bring out and then let a couple of hundred men search the city for any more that were kept hidden. If the number of fighting men they send out seems a reasonable number, don’t try to decide if more are in the city, but send the others back to Orosz under guard. There should be enough wagons in the city to transport them.”
“Kollar isn’t going to be happy about that. I didn’t hear you tell him the men were going to be sent on to mountain prison camps.”
“Fuck ’em,” said Stent. “They’ll be alive, which is more than many will deserve, and what are they going to do about it once disarmed and under guard?”
Preddi City
“Not much doubt now,” said Brigadier Zulfa, skimming the latest semaphore message from Jurna. “Not that I thought this would just be another raid, although a larger one.”
“No,” said Akuyun, “Jurna says the clans are three or four hours behind him in numbers he now estimates at ten to twelve thousand. Either they hope to catch him, or their objective is to use the same route to Preddi as Jurna. Either possibility has the same result—they’re headed this way.”
Akuyun looked at Tuzere, the civilian administrator, and Erkan Ketin, the Preddi Province military commander. “You know what to do. We planned for this, though we hoped it wouldn’t happen. Move all civilians to the defensible sites they’re been assigned to. Get as many of them inside the Preddi City defenses as possible. We don’t know the clans’ ultimate intentions, but if they do plan attacking into Preddi Province, we can’t delay getting our civilians moving.”
Tuzere shook his head. “I still have trouble believing we’ve come to this. I admit I had hopes the Eywell attack was only to take Hanslow. Great Narth! To hope we essentially lost all of Eywell was the best case I could see! No, you’re right, General. They’re coming here. No doubt, not after word from Wrexton.”
A picket platoon had been stationed within sight of the ruins of the Eywell town of Wrexton in the southeast corner of Eywell Province. In their previous raid from Keelan to the Preddi border, the clans had burned the town, though they let the inhabitants leave, walking with whatever they could carry. The platoon had orders to report any new clan incursions and keep contact. An hour before the latest semaphore message from Jurna, a rider had reached Ponth in the northeast of Preddi. He had all but killed his horse to bring word that a large clan force, many thousands of men on horseback, accompanied by cannon and wagons, had emerged out of the rough country farther east and was heading fast along the coast—a similar clan force to the one coming from the north-northeast, as reported by Jurna.
“I hope you can hold them north of Ponth, General,” said Tuzere. “I’ll have thousands of civilians gathered in defensive positions in towns with only their own militia and few cannon to protect them, and that’s not to mention another ten to twenty thousand scattered throughout the province who’ll just have to hide locally, because they’re too remote to reach the gathering sites.”
Akuyun didn’t read Tuzere’s comment as a criticism of withdrawing the troops toward Preddi City. He recognized the danger as well as Tuzere. “That’s the only viable option, Nizam. We have to have a strong-enough force here to give us options. If we’d kept our men scattered, we’d have been completely tied to the fortifications. This way, there will be options, even if ones we don’t like. However, as soon as the situation is clearer, we can move more people into Preddi City.”
“We also need to alert the Ponth battalion to be ready to move back here,” said Zulfa. “All the nearby civilians were already on the move to Preddi City, so the battalion should be able to travel quickly if necessary.”
“I think we should get them moving and collect any civilians still between Ponth and Preddi City,” said Akuyun. “Ketin, get another semaphore message to Sellmor. I hope Metan has shown up. They’re to pull our forces into Sellmor. They should be able to hold out there. Reiterate in the message that the navy will support them with supplies and gunfire within range of the shore. Metan, or whoever is in command, knows we can always withdraw them by sea if they get cut off from Preddi. Also, have Metan tell Hetman Selfcell to concentrate their fighting men at Sellmor, along with as many civilians as they choose to evacuate there. It’s Eywell I’m most concerned about. With their losses at Moreland City and now losing the capital, I’m afraid they’re likely lost to us. I’d hoped to hold the province as a buffer between Preddi and the other clans.”
“I’ll get my ships moving toward Sellmor as soon as I leave here,” said Admiral Kalcan. “A freighter already loaded with cured meats and grain will sail within two hours once we round up enough crew, and two frigates will accompany her. That should be enough to mollify initial Selfcell jitters. Sellmor is close enough that I could get the rest of our ships there quickly, if need be.”
“Good,” said Akuyun, “that should stabilize the Selfcell situation until we know more of the clans’ intentions for Preddi. If their two armies, forces, or whatever we call them keep to the roads they’re on, they should meet up near the Eywell/Preddi border.”
Sellmor, Selfcell Clan Capital
“Thank you, Captain. Tell Colonel Metan I understand what we are to do,” said Roblyn Langor.
Without an acknowledgment, the Narthani officer smirked, then turned and walked out of Langor’s office.
Harlyn Bolton spat to one side as soon as the office door closed. “Stinkin’ Narthani! Even minimal courtesy and respect are too much for them.”
“Ah, Harlyn,” said Karvan Sewell, “you should have thanked the captain. I doubt he realizes it, but he’s delivered a far more important message than the one he spoke of.”
“The Narthani think they might be in trouble from the clans,” said Langor. “If they’re planning to pull their men into Sellmor’s defenses, it’s because they fear the clans might get right to these walls with enough men to be a genuine threat. Think of it! As far as we a
re from territory not controlled by the Narthani, those bastards fear clan forces. That means the clans aren’t far away. Since there’s been no word from Wynmor in northern Selfcell, that means the threat is coming through Eywell. The Narthani haven’t given us details, but we know the clans raided around Hanslow, and a second raid got all the way from Keelan to the Preddi border. The clans pulled back that time, but the orders to Metan must mean the clans are moving again, possibly over the same routes and in enough force this time not to be considered a mere raid but an attempt to go farther.”
“But we can’t know exactly what’s happening, Roblyn,” said Bolton.
“No,” agreed Langor, “but something is happening. You know what the Kolsko fellow said when I met with Stent. ‘There will come a time . . .’ Kolsko said, when our turning on the Narthani could reinstate us with the other clans. He acknowledged it might involve great risk for our clans, but that was a price we had to pay.”
Langor turned to Sewell. “Karvan?”
“After the meeting, I’ve maintained regular contact with persons in Stent Province, one of whom I believe is connected to high levels of authority, I assume to Hetman Stent or this Kolsko, whatever position he has with the clans. We’ve passed on information, as demanded at the meeting you had. However, most of the communication coming to us was innocuous—more confirming the communication ability than anything of substance. However, we’ve gotten a short message that just arrived here in Sellmor. It must have been in transit at least four days from its origin. It was only three words. ‘It is time.’”
“That’s it?” asked Bolton.
“I believe that was more than enough,” said Langor. “Karvan and I believe it’s a message from the clans that our one chance to redeem ourselves with the other clans and hopefully contribute to the Narthani’s downfall on Caedellium is now. They want us to do something. What is obviously not specified, but when combined with the orders from Metan, I believe it means we need to do whatever we can to move against the Narthani.”
“Easily said,” muttered Bolton. “We don’t have enough men to attack the Narthani garrison here in Sellmor, and even if we had three times their number, I wouldn’t want to fight them in an open field battle—not with their cannon, their experience in that type of fighting, and their discipline. We saw what they did to the Morelanders, and even when the clans surprised them, the Narthani recovered and stayed in control of themselves.”
“We need to decide, and soon,” said Langor. “What could we do to hurt them without crippling ourselves?”
Bolton rose and walked to a wall map of Sellmor. He looked at the map for several minutes, then grunted and turned back to the other two men. “They’ve billeted most of their men outside Sellmor’s main walls. Inside is what they consider their Selfcell headquarters buildings. I doubt more than a hundred Narthani are usually there at any one time. We could close the gates, man the defenses, and prevent the men from their enclave from getting into the city without a serious attack. With the men the Narthani ordered us to have ready for whatever they wanted to use us for, plus another five to seven hundred fighting men living in or near Selfcell, there’s no way they could get into the city before another thousand of our men got here. At that point, they wouldn’t have enough men to breach our defenses. It was stupid of them to put their enclave outside the main walls.”
“What would the price be if it didn’t go as you say?” asked Sewell.
“It could be bad,” said Bolton. “If we are to do this, I suggest we send a couple hundred men to destroy their armory. It’s at the edge of their enclave. We would only try to hold it long enough to set it afire and then get out. The price to our men would likely be high, but with their main powder stores gone, that would eliminate their option to retake the city. Even better, when the fire reaches the powder stores, the explosion could destroy or damage their cannon stored in the adjacent building.”
“How long would it take to set this in motion?” asked Langor.
“It has to be quick,” said Bolton. “Word of something happening would get to the Narthani as soon as we move. The men standing ready would have to carry the initial burden. Two hundred to attack the Narthani armory and the other men manning the walls. Within an hour, I can have hundreds more men here. Although we didn’t anticipate this exact proposal, we did organize enough to mobilize quickly in an emergency. I think this qualifies.”
Langor and Sewell both stood beside Bolton, all three looking at the city’s map. After a minute, Langor and the other two men faced one another.
“It’s my ultimate decision,” said Langor, “but I want your best opinion.”
“From everything I’ve seen and heard, and from thinking of just such a decision,” Sewell said, “I believe this is the time to act, even with the terrible risks.”
“I don’t like it,” said Bolton. “Too many unknowns. You know I’ll follow whatever decision you make, Roblyn, and I thank God I don’t have to make it.”
“I will make it, Harlyn, and it’s your task to advise me. So, what would you say?”
“I advise you to take the gamble as possibly the only chance our clan has to survive, and God have mercy on us all.”
Southern Force
The clans’ Southern Force crossed into Eywell fifty-two miles from the Preddi border. They moved out of the mesa/ravine country and the burned Wrexton before they reached any obstacle to their advance, six hours after launching. A bridge over a stream had been burned beyond usage. However, less than a quarter-mile north, the stream was wide enough and its banks short enough that it took two hours’ hand labor by three hundred men before wagons and cannon crossed.
“Good thing we brought along wagons with shovels, picks, axes, and timbers,” said Yozef. “Good thinking, Denes.”
The force leader only nodded. “There will be several more streams like this, but none of them should be any more difficult. The only river in Eywell to empty into the Gulf of Witlow is the Arnen. It would be a major problem for us, except there’s no bridge needed there. It widens out to no more than a foot deep as it flows over a solid rock shelf. On the earlier raid, we hardly slowed crossing it. We didn’t have many wagons going west, though we had more on the way back—holding the people we freed from the slave camp. There were all types and sizes of wagons, and none had a problem with the crossing.”
“We tried to account for delays like the brief one we just had,” said Yozef, “so we should be able to keep to our timetable estimate, unless the Narthani decide to come out to meet us, which I doubt. Nevertheless, don’t forget that anything can happen, and a good commander is never surprised by something he didn’t think could possibly happen.”
Carnigan snorted from atop his Percheron-like horse that followed behind Yozef and Denes. “Unless he’s lost his memory entirely, how could anyone forget what you keep nagging him about?”
“Did you hear something, Denes, or was it just one of the horses farting?” said Yozef.
“I decline to give an opinion,” said Denes, “being too absorbed with command to partake in churlishness.”
“Hah,” Carnigan said from behind them. “That’s not what I remember from the last time we drank together in Caernford’s Snarling Graeko pub.”
“Maybe if we raise our voices, we won’t be disturbed by lesser creatures,” said Yozef, only to be answered by a loud snort.
“So far, the weather is holding,” said Denes, changing the subject. “That’s one less worry. We’d never move the heavier wagons or the cannon fast enough with muddy roads.”
Two hours later and two-thirds of the way to the Preddi border, the command group sat on their horses when a rider was stopped by guards.
“Brigadier Vegga!” interrupted Dene’s guard commander. “A message rider from Colonel Hewell’s regiment. He came up behind us. Says it’s an urgent message you need to get. His horse was about done in, and the colonel sent him on with the packet.”
Denes took a sealed packet from a man h
e didn’t recognize, slit open the paper, and read. “It’s a message originally from Hetman Stent while he was at Hanslow. The Narthani abandoned Hanslow and are headed back to Preddi. Stent estimates about seven hundred Narthani, two hundred Eywell fighting men, and noncombatants of unknown number.”
Yozef pulled a map out of a saddlebag and spread it on the ground. Denes and Yozef dismounted to examine it.
“If Stent kept to his timetable, he sent the message about six hours ago. It had to go by horse to Moreland City, then by semaphore to Dornfeld, and then horse again to us. In six hours, the Narthani could be well on their way to Preddi. They and we would be about the same distance to Preddi, assuming we both keep on the roads we’re on.”
“I know we’re not supposed to engage in battle,” said Denes, “but isn’t this a chance to whittle down the Narthani’s strength? We could catch them between us and Stent’s men following them. According to your On War, when you have overwhelming numbers, you should attack.”
“Yes,” said Yozef, “but we have to keep our main objective in mind and not be distracted.”
“Part of our objective has already been reached,” said Denes. “The message also says that Hanslow surrendered without a fight once the Narthani left. Most of the Eywell fighting men in the city are prisoners and the city disarmed. I think we can consider the Eywellese to no longer be a factor. That leaves Selfcell. If we could block the Hanslow Narthani from reaching Preddi City, it shouldn’t interfere with our keeping the Preddi City Narthani occupied and inside their fortifications, especially if we can engage the Hanslow force far enough away from Preddi City.”
Both men were quiet as they looked at the map. Yozef pointed to a city in the southeast border of Eywell and Preddi provinces. “We were already planning to divert slightly to Neath to be sure there weren’t Narthani troops in our rear. That’s why we brought along the smaller, less trained regiments—to serve as town garrisons in our rear.”
Forged in Fire (Destiny's Crucible Book 4) Page 37