“Problems with coordination never go away, no matter who you are and how much experience you have,” said General Kamil Avan, Gullar’s second-in-command. “What jumps out at me is that they had other units positioned close enough to support those our men encountered. From when they first appeared and the time of first contact, I’d estimate the reinforcements might have been at Hanslow. There appeared to have been around five to six thousand of them when our men withdrew, which raises questions. Was that the entire Hanslow force, or were there more not yet sent forward? Was it fortuitous that our probe aimed directly at where they had reinforcements stationed, or if we’d probed elsewhere, would things have developed differently?”
“There are always more questions raised,” said Gullar, “but we now know they had organized units positioned behind those we and General Akuyun’s men have encountered near the border. We also know they didn’t press our men until they had superiority in numbers. However, I’m not sure any of this changes our plans.”
“I agree,” said Avan. “I’m satisfied the regiment we sent out performed well. Officers report the men were not quite up to full physical fitness but were close, and they responded well to orders. This regiment was chosen to be slightly below average status, so I believe we can be ready to campaign in another two to three sixdays.”
The Narthani needed one day more than Avan’s estimate range of twelve to eighteen days.
Chapter 42: HERE THEY COME
Here They Come
“Sergeant Walon! Wake up!” One of Brilwel Walon’s men shook him awake.
It was thirdday, second sixday of the month of Amgelon. They were perched on an isolated peak sticking fourteen hundred feet above the valley running north-south through Eywell Province and ten miles southwest of Morthmin where the current forward regiment had set up their base since pulling back from the border. From their position, they overlooked the main road and the semaphore line running to Hanslow. The last sixday the Narthani cavalry patrols had gotten larger, more frequent, and more aggressive in keeping the clan patrols from penetrating farther south. From their position, they could watch a swath of territory sixteen miles across.
Walon groused, “All right, all right. I’m awake. It had better be important. I was dreaming of being home with my wife, and she had planned a welcome night’s activity.”
The young man—more a boy, because he wasn’t more than seventeen years old (fifteen Earth years)—was fresh off his family’s farm in Adris Province, home to all the men in this unit. They had not had the dragoon training and had been assigned as lookouts. The title “sergeant” was one of those labels Yozef Kolsko had insisted on, formalizing a rank structure. Walon often thought the ranks were unnecessary, though he finally saw the argument for being able to know who was in charge when men from different clans found themselves fighting or operating together. Anyway, Yozef Kolsko said it was important, so that was good enough for Walon.
He sat up, opened his eyes, and looked at the agitated youth.
“So, what’s so important?”
“The Narthani are coming. The sun is just hitting the plain south of here, and you can see them.”
“How many are there?”
“ALL OF THEM!!” screamed the boy.
Walon jumped to his feet in the rock-and-cloth shelter he’d slept in the last sixday. He ran upslope forty yards to the highest observation point. He didn’t think to put on his boots and didn’t notice the rocks cutting the soles of his feet. At the summit, two men were taking turns looking through one of the new telescopes, a valuable and rare tool that Walon had been entrusted with.
As he reached the other two men, they turned. Both were pale.
“Merciful God, Brilwel! Merciful God. Look at them!” said one man and handed him the telescope. What seemed like a mere smudge on the plain north of them, as seen by the naked eye, resolved into three long, dark columns. Infantry filled the road for mile after mile. He couldn’t make out the exact numbers abreast, but his brain told him that from the known width of the road, they had to be five or six across. The mass of infantry was interspersed with wagons, and columns of cavalry flanked the road fifty to a hundred yards on each side. He thought he could see smaller smudges farther on the flanks and forward—screens for the main force.
They had been briefed on what they might see and how to make crude estimates of numbers from their vantage point. He made one estimate, then a second and a third. The three estimates clustered around twenty-five thousand, and there had to be even more, because he couldn’t resolve the end of the columns.
It took an hour and a half for the two riders Walon selected to get down the mountain and ride hard to Morthmin. From there, the semaphore station sent the alert to all clans, and the Morthmin regiment retreated northeast toward Hanslow.
By chance, Yozef was the only War Council member at the headquarters when the semaphore message came in from Morthmin. The message was uncoded.
From: Morthmin station
Top: War Council
Narthani army moving on road to Hanslow.
1st est 25,000 min
Withdrawing to Hanslow
“Does this mean the Narthani are coming here, Ser Kolsko?” asked the trembling fifteen-year-old girl (thirteen Earth years) who had brought the message from the Orosz City semaphore station. Younger boys and girls were filling as many roles as possible to free men for fighting units.
“It’s too early to tell for sure . . . Vurna, isn’t that your name? You’ve given me several messages the last sixday.”
“Yes, ser, Vurna Hotwun.”
Hotwun? Despite the news, Yozef suppressed a grin and took a second look at the girl. She was lovely, and he thought she was destined to be stunning. Yes, Vurna, in a couple of years you may be.
“Well, Vurna, all we know is that the Narthani are on the move, but that’s what we’ve all been preparing for the last months, isn’t it?” He put his arm around her shoulder. “No need to worry. This is just the first step. The Narthani are going to be in for many surprises, aren’t they? Now, off with you. We all have our tasks, and yours is getting messages to people as fast as possible.”
He watched her brighten at his words and bounce off, as only early teenage girls could. Holy shit! Yes, it’s time to worry, but for you, Vurna, what’s the point? Keep faith that the leaders and grownups know what they’re doing and God is on your side. Keep that faith at least a little longer.
Within five hours, the news would reach all nineteen free clans, Eywell existing in a suspended state, no longer part of the Narthani world, but neither part of the clan alliance. Seaborn, though separated from the rest of Caedellium by the Seaborn Straight, had formally contributed to the clan alliance by sending their hetman’s eldest son leading eight hundred men to Orosz City. The Selfcellese had contributed fifteen hundred men, led by Elflyn Langor, in Orosz City—it was agreed there was too much bad blood left to station them within Stent Province. The remainder of the Selfcell men remained in their province to protect their hastily organized redoubt and serve as a mobile force should an opportunity arise to strike at the Narthani rear.
In the meantime, the full War Council met at the Orosz City semaphore station. Welman Stent joined via dedicated semaphore from Hanslow. The lag for Stent’s participation slowed progress, but it hardly mattered, because the main topic was invoking Phase Three—imminent war with the Narthani. Even with the time of transmission delays, the five to zero vote came after only two hours by using prearranged codes for expected proposals. No discussion was necessary.
All noncombatants not already at redoubts were to start for their assignments as soon as possible. All military units were to immediately muster and move to prearranged positions.
Although the Narthani appeared to be following a route to Hanslow, nothing was certain. Per planning, ten regiments of dragoons and support units would gather at Hanslow—twenty-five thousand men under the command of Welman Stent. There, they would wait for the Narthani.
Units currently mustering in an arc from Pewitt Province in northwest Caedellium to Mittack in the southeast were to begin moving inward, contracting clan forces toward Eywell. Only when the Narthani’s intentions appeared fixed would all clan forces finish consolidating.
In the time it took the Narthani army to move thirty miles farther into Eywell, four hundred thousand Caedelli were on the move. Another four hundred thousand were already in redoubts or part of already formed and stationed fighting units. It was a mass migration that rivaled anything Yozef could dredge up from Earth history. Food stores had already been sent to the relevant clan redoubts, along with any belongings a Caedelli thought irreplaceable. Animals had either already been slaughtered to cure the meat; driven to pastures near the redoubts to serve as seed to replenish stocks, if the clans survived; or scattered to out-of-the-way places to make it harder for a foraging army to gather them.
As word reached each clan, riders went out to every village. “Leave immediately for your redoubt. Men to report to assigned stations.”
In the last year, registrars and assistants had rechecked or recorded, depending on the clan and the level of records already kept, the names of every single person and his or her assigned station when the notification came for Phase Three. It was a degree of record keeping previously unknown on Caedellium, but the result was that all clanspersons knew exactly what they were supposed to do, and the few who didn’t followed those who did.
Only three clans had built no redoubts: Bultecki and Vandinke provinces were mountainous and not likely to be the Narthani’s prime targets, and Nyvaks because it was connected to the rest of the island by an isthmus, and occupying that province would have no strategic advantages for the Narthani. Keelan and Gwillamer shared the Dillagon Mountains redoubt. All coastal clans had inland redoubts or used redoubts in other provinces.
Orosz City was the largest redoubt and the only one at a major city and was planned most members of three clans (Orosz, Moreland, and Adris), in addition to some of the noncombatants of Hewell, Bultecki, and Stent. It would be, by far, the biggest concentration of people ever seen on Caedellium—almost two hundred thousand crammed into the city and the abutting mountain areas.
Word of the Narthani’s move reached the Kolsko house at midday, when Maera came to give the news before frightful and incorrect rumors arrived. Anarynd, Gwyned, and Braithe sat in the central courtyard, enjoying the sun, rocking Dwyna to sleep, and feeding Aeneas. Morwena kept trying to teach Braithe’s toddler to walk. When Maera walked in, Morwena squealed and ran to her, calling “Mea!” She hugged Maera’s leg. The three seated women looked up, smiled, started greetings, then froze from Maera’s expression.
“We wanted you to hear the news first from us,” said Maera. “We think the Narthani are moving. An army has crossed into Eywell and is moving northeast, so far.”
Braithe paled, momentarily unlatching Aeneas from a breast and eliciting a protest. She guided him back, and he subsided. Gwyned gritted her teeth, and her hands reflexively opened and closed as if searching for a weapon. Anarynd’s expression didn’t change, but she unconsciously touched her abdomen as if to shield the growing child.
“What does that mean for us?” asked Anarynd.
“Nothing for now,” answered Maera. “They’re a long way away, and we don’t know the direction they will head. We’ll know more in the next day or two. We’re all safe within the city walls. You’ve seen the defenses. Yozef is confident they can’t get into the city.” Which wasn’t quite true. Yozef’s exact words were more like, “It would be extraordinarily difficult and probably cost them more than they’re willing to pay.”
“I need to get back to the headquarters,” said Maera, “but Yozef and I will be home for evening meal at the usual time. We’ll give you any more news then. Try not to listen to any rumors from people on the street. Once word gets out, there will always be fearmongers.”
At the headquarters, Yozef stood on the elevated walkway between the two pits, looking back and forth between the detailed Caedellium map—for at least the twentieth time in the last hour—and then down at the raised relief map the assigned team had worked on literally day and night to be near completion, with only half of Mittack, most of Nyvaks, and the Seaborn Islands left to finish.
Figurines represented known redoubts and major troop positions. They had just added a single red carved wooden figure for the Narthani army. When more information became available, they might replace the single figure with others to distinguish individual units or concentrations. A green figure with a flag that read “Stent” faced the Narthani figure. The Stent hetman currently led eight thousand men tasked with delaying the Narthani advance. Another seventeen thousand men moved to join him. They would not engage in major battles but would force the Narthani to move slower than they might want and to know they faced a major clan force. It wasn’t time to lure the Narthani army but only delay them a few days to let people reach the redoubts or men to finish mustering to their units and move to planned dispositions.
A second green figure read “Harmon.” It represented Harmon Swavebroke, the new Hetman Swavebroke. His father had died after delaying the Narthani attack on the clan capital at Shullick. His first name was used to indicate the individual and not the clan. He would command eight thousand men who would maneuver around the Narthani army without making contact. He had impressed everyone with the firm hand he’d taken in organizing the evacuation of Shullick and the gathering of clansmen. A planned counterattack had not happened, because the Narthani withdrew aboard their ships before the attack launched, but Harmon’s swift grasp of his clan’s reins and later impressions during planning sessions had elevated him to a command over units from multiple clans. He and two thousand men were shown on the map as located at Orosz City. The next morning, Harmon would leave and collect additional men moving to join him. At the order from the War Council, he would cut the supply line back to Preddi Province. Until then, he and his men would move north of the line of the army’s advance and set up a camp while waiting for clarity about the Narthani’s intentions.
Scattered across Caedellium, smaller green figurines represented regiments and battalions that would move toward the Narthani line of advance once the clans knew more. For now, they had to avoid any contact, even with Narthani scouts out to twenty miles from their army. The Caedelli would give the Narthani nearly free rein to send out flanking scouts, and clan units would wait for orders to suppress such patrols and squeeze any Narthani closer to the main body of troops.
Yozef looked at the wall map for the twenty-first time. It hadn’t changed. People rushed about, doing whatever they were supposed to be doing. Everyone, except him, seemed to have an urgent task that needed immediate attention. Yozef had nothing to do here at the moment. The months of planning were now in motion, and he had nothing to offer. He would go forward the next day toward Moreland City and eventually join Stent, not to directly command any men, but to see the Narthani for himself. Figurines on a tabletop and wall map positions didn’t substitute for seeing what these only represented. He could argue with himself or others, such as Maera, but he needed to see.
Marshal Dursun Gullar
The Narthani army commander sat in his large coach, reading reports from the first scouting patrols that swept ahead of the army. Gullar hated horses. He had never learned to ride well and thought the stupid beasts would be better suited to roasting than riding, except they remained necessary for cavalry and pulling wagons. His personally designed coach came with him to Caedellium. It had the advantage of allowing simultaneous conferences with senior staff while on the move. It also featured specially designed springs and a floating carriage body that smoothed out bumps endemic to most roads and could ride reasonably well even across unimproved terrain. The downside was a constant rocking motion that induced motion sickness in some men—but not Gullar. Neither was he subject to seasickness. He had started his military career in the Narthani navy before it was recognized he had more
talent for commanding naval infantry on shore operations than ships. The High Command then transferred him to the army, where he rose quickly in rank. Though not considered one of their best commanders, he proved himself solid and dependable, just the qualifications the High Command had wanted to finish the Caedellium subjugation.
Gullar commented more to himself than to the aide sitting opposite him in the coach. “Only distant sightings so far, according to the latest scout reports. Groups of a few dozen that retreat when approached.”
“The same pattern as the first attempt to draw them into battle,” offered a senior aide. “If this holds, we should start seeing more of them as we get into Moreland. That’s assuming they don’t stand at Hanslow.”
“Unlikely,” said Avan. “If they’re going to defend cities or territories, it’ll be their own and not those of a clan they must consider traitors.”
“Yes, I agree,” mumbled Gullar. He glanced over the reports again, looking for any detail he might have missed.
“Let me see the map again,” he directed at the younger, more junior aide tasked with keeping an updated map of their positions. Once they reached the flat land running toward Hanslow, the army would reposition their march. He stared at the map showing the three arrows of their parallel columns now moving a mile apart, the different-colored arrows of major cavalry units, and two dotted arrows of the support units and the wagon train following the main road to Hanslow. They had made good time in this terrain, but that wouldn’t last.
“No,” he said. “I expect we should start seeing more of them once we cross into Moreland Province.”
Forged in Fire (Destiny's Crucible Book 4) Page 56