by RW Krpoun
Ernest Kuhler came running out of the camp, his oddly-fashioned pack in hand as the patrol began to navigate the zig-zag path through the stakes; Durek took one look at them and ordered the horn be blown to recall the logger detail and the surveyor guards into camp.
“What happened?” the Captain demanded of Arian, who was leaning against a tree scrubbing Goblin blood from the blade of his sword.
“Ambush of a clever sort,” the monk replied, accepting the flask the Captain offered and taking a long drink. “Ahh, that’s good. We hear someone shouting, go investigate, and find a ragged girl in hysterics, talks of escaping from the Goblins. When we’re good and close, she clouts Starr in the face with a small axe and runs like blazes, blowing a whistle. Next thing we know there’s Goblin scouts all around us, followed by jugata a second later. We manage to fight our way clear, and Starr’s torc protected her skull, but our best scout and finest archer won’t be able to open her eyes for the next two days, as there was some sort of spell on the axe, prevents any sort of Healing.”
“So they wanted Starr dead, eh?” The Captain stroked his beard thoughtfully.
“Yes, and while she’s still alive, they did accomplish their main mission on a temporary basis: she’s out of the scouting and shooting business for a bit. Have you ever heard of Goblins using Human renegades as bait like that?”
“Cave Goblins and Ice Goblins on occasion, but not Forest Goblins, and never very often for any of them. None of the slaves we rescued this year has even mentioned renegades, although there have been Hand traders in and out of the area, that’s what those three we captured this spring were, traders trying to pass themselves off as slaves. Maybe the Goblins paid one enough to take the risks.”
“They were pretty long risks; Kroh and I didn’t miss by much,” the monk scowled. “The thing that makes me so angry, though, is that was exactly our style of doing things, and I fell for it.”
Durek thumped him on the shoulder. “Don’t feel bad, you got everyone out alive and mainly intact, that’s the important thing. Now we’ve got to prepare for what’s coming.”
“Starr said the yasama were thick on the ground out there, either a screening force or pretending to be one,” Arian said. “Are they going to try to wipe out New Fork?”
“I wouldn’t think it too profitable an undertaking, but what else could it be? Our new Watcher regularly reports no significant Goblin activity around Oramere, and Hohenfels can muster far too large of a Militia, not to mention that an attack on it would draw an immediate response from Imperial troops.”
“Between ourselves and the Dwarves, taking this place would be a difficult business, perhaps even beyond the Spider’s capabilities,” Arian shook his head. “Even the loggers and surveyors would be of use in defending the camp.”
“True, but apparently they are planning to try. I’m going to have a talk with our paymasters, and then with Evarts and Sachervall; once we pull back into our defenses, we’ll be a tough nut to crack.”
“So we need to halt all operations outside of the township itself until we know what the Spider is doing,” Durek concluded. “I know that that will be a hardship and an expense, but we haven’t much choice in the matter.”
“How long will things have to stop?” Yvonne asked, frowning. “The clearing was going so well and the mapping was actually ahead of schedule.”
“At least two days until our chief scout is fit for duty; perhaps a day or two longer.”
“I see, so they’ve blinded us, in a manner of speaking,” the large noblewoman said.
Durek was surprised at her quick grasp of the concept. “Yes, precisely; my best Human scouts are on a par with yasama but badly outnumbered; without Corporal Brightgift they would not be able to penetrate the Goblin scout-screen and find out what the Spider is up to.”
“But what about that half-Goblin fellow you have, the Watcher? Can’t he See what’s going on?”
Herbet answered before the Captain could. “No, dear, even if we could communicate with him at Oramere, Watchers can only practice their art for a short while each day. Unless they are attuned with a single subject, Watchers get very little information on the short term; they’re best used as supplements for spies. What about your Company Seer, Captain?”
“She’s working now, but her readings up to now have given us very little; I’m afraid she’s not too skilled.”
“None of them ever seem to be,” Herbet shrugged. “What do you need from us?”
“Your support in keeping the surveyors and loggers within the township, and for evacuating their women and children back to Hohenfels. I would suggest the same for you and your staff.”
“You can count on our every effort to help,” Yvonne declared firmly. “But we could hardly abandon you in the face of imminent danger.”
Durek tried to keep a straight face, a task made easier by his beard. “But...you are paying us, Yvonne; fighting is our job. You are under no obligation to share our risks.”
“None the less, we shall stay.” Her chin could have been used as an anvil.
“Our influence on the surveyors is only minimal,” Herbet pointed out. “While the Clean Saw is not in our employ at all, but rather are affiliated with the timber combine to whom we have sold the timber rights. I will give you written authorization to withdraw your security from both the surveyors and the lumber crews for the next week in light of current developments, which will absolve you from any litigation presented by either the timber combine or the Clean Saw company. Since the crews and the Company is paid by the tree, I doubt they will be over-inclined to listen to you or myself.”
“I don’t think they will either, but I’ll have to try,” Durek shrugged.
“Then I wish you luck. I’ll have the letter written out immediately.”
After briefing Haakon of the news developments (which affected the Dwarven leader very little as his crew never left the township area), Durek sought out the leaders of the surveyors and loggers, finding the two together under an awning Evarts had erected over the table and records-chest that made up his field office. The two were drinking ale and talking as the Dwarf Captain trudged up.
“Hail, mercenary, and well met,” Evarts, a short man whose broad shoulders spoke of years of wood-cutting and whose growing belly told of more years of hard drinking. “Ale?”
“Thank you.” Durek accepted the proffered tankard and took a good deep pull, then sat on the tall stool Evarts shoved forward with his foot.
“I hear some of your lads got themselves cut up,” Sachervall grinned into his mug.
“One of my patrols was ambushed by Goblins and Human renegades,” Durek nodded, controlling his temper. “We hurt them more than they hurt us. The main point is that it appears that the Spider is gearing up for a major raid on New Fork, most likely some sort of attack upon the operations here, perhaps even an assault on the township area itself.”
“So let me guess, you want us to sit here in the shadow of the fort we’re not allowed to enter for a few days,” Sachervall drawled.
“We want your people to be where we can defend them, yes,” Durek nodded. “And should a Goblin force enter this area your people will be brought into our camp, as I explained before.”
“We get paid a flat rate for this job,” the chief surveyor leaned forward. “Soon as we finish, we head south of Teasau and start another. Stopping operations will short-change me on the next job, might cost me it altogether. You’ve been paid to escort us, so escort us.”
“I’m paid by the von der Jabs, not you,” Durek said. “And they agree with me.”
“Of course they do, they aren’t losing money for it.”
“My lads get paid by the trunk,” Evarts pointed out. “I hold them in camp and they don’t earn a bitt. One day, maybe, they’ll stay put, but after that they’ll start up work with or without me telling them.”
“If they leave the camp, it will be without mercenary protection,” Durek stated firmly. “I am going to
hold my Company in a single body until I can determine what the Spider’s next move is. I’ll remind you that this Keiba can still field around a thousand warriors if they choose, more if they pass out spears to every youth and elder. With my people, the Dwarven crew, and your men inside our fortified camp, there won’t be much they can do unless they want to pay a large price in lives, but spread out through the forest we’re easy meat.”
“I’ll give you a day,” Evarts decided. “Tomorrow my crews will ground their tools and rest, we’re due anyway, but come dawn the day after we’re back at it.”
“Mine’ll still be at work,” Sachervall said grimly. “We’ll work on the lots nearest the township, but I won’t waste good money and a clear sky because the Goblins might be planning something. The little bastards are always planning something, and we’ve collected the bounty on a few ears in the past.”
“We would also recommend that you send the women and children down to Hohenfels for a few days; if the Goblins raid the area they would be at risk, and of no use in the defense,” Durek said.
“Can’t do it,” Evarts shook his head. “The loggers support them on their own, saving the girls who work the trade. None’ll want to go.’
“How about if I arrange for them to relocate to Badgerhof for a week?” Durek suggested. “We could put them up in better tents than they have now, for free, and I’ll arrange for them to be fed as well.”
Evarts shrugged. “I’ll run it past the lads and see who’s interested.”
Durek drained his mug and stood. He could tell he had gotten as much cooperation out of them as he was going get, although it was less than he had hoped for. “Thank you for your ale and your time.”
Bridget was waiting for him upon his return. “I’ve reviewed our plans and checked into all our supplies,” she reported. “What can we expect?”
“Assume that they will not evacuate,” the Dwarf grumbled. “They wouldn’t listen to reason; in fact, Sachervall is at this minute haranguing the von der Jabs for mercenary guards.”
“Oh, well, I expect there was no real hope of getting them to listen.” The advocate checked her notes. “We’ve enough rations for everyone for five days, and another shipment is due the day after tomorrow. I’ve a detail digging additional latrine facilities, and another building stone barricades on the river bank to protect water-details from Goblin fire. Haakon has assigned six Dwarves to assemble a small crane there so we will be able to bring up water in sufficient quantities for the entire camp, which will be important as we’re short on barrels.”
“Good. Put a detail to work shifting the food stores into a defensible spot, with rope-fences and a guard’s path around it,” Durek instructed her. “If we end up in a siege we’ll have problems if we don’t control our rations.”
Chapter Nineteen
The guards had been doubled through the night, and Durek had every Badger standing to in full battle gear a half hour before dawn on the sixteenth, but no attack came. An hour after dawn the Company stood down except for a double posting of sentries. Evarts was good for his word, shutting down lumber operations for the day, using Market Day, the eighth day of the week, as an excuse, Market Day traditionally being a day of rest in the Empire. Sachervall had his men up and at work at the usual time, heading out to survey not long after the sun was up. It was apparent that he did heed some of Durek’s warning: every surveyor was fully armed, a habit that had fallen into disuse lately, and they were formed into two teams instead of the usual three.
Elonia walked to where her Captain stood, watching the last of the surveyors disappearing into the trees. “There’s trouble in our future,” she informed him.
“I could guess that,” the Dwarf shrugged. “Anything specific?”
“A siege.”
“No news there either; anything else?”
The Seeress shook her head. “I probe the very fabric of our future and all you do is demand details.” The Dwarf proved immune to her sarcasm. “I’ve Seen a very large grouping of the Spider, perhaps the bulk of the regular fighting strength, including war engines and several shamans. And before you ask, it seems both reliable and coming soon, ‘soon’ being a very flexible term indicating within days or hours in this case.”
“If they’ve several shamans, why isn’t the force screened from Sight?”
“If I were to guess, I would say that they’re very close and are conserving their energies; the Company’s reliance on spellcasters and enchanted items in our engagements with the Spider have undoubtedly convinced them that our resources are much greater than they really are.”
“If only they knew,” the Captain shook his head. “We’re down to four Storms of Disruption, six Orbs of Warding, and four of those fire-javelins. At least you and most of your people are back; we can use the veterans.”
“I take it the logger’s dependents are staying?”
“Yep. Not a one will leave, or be permitted to leave. Forty-four useless mouths to feed when the Spider hits.”
The day dragged on; the Badgers not on guard worked on the defenses, adding stakes to the outside of the belt, deepening the ditch here and there, improving the stump-walled fighting positions. The Dwarven contingent went to work at their usual hour, their work sites being close enough to the camp to make it reasonably safe. The loggers drank up nearly half of their camp’s store of alcohol, and soon the township rang with the sounds of raucous entertainments and disagreements.
Noon came and went and the drunken loggers found considerable humor in standing at the cleared area’s edges shouting for the Purple Spider to come out. By mid-afternoon the first pier was fully assembled, although not usable for a week to let the flaume cure, and the Dwarves were shifting cranes to begin work on the foundations of the first guard house, one of the small stone forts being erected at each corner of the township. Haakon decided to begin with the blockhouse at the northeast corner of the township, which was also the northeast corner of the Badger’s camp, thus placing four out of ten of his crew working within the camp; the rest were working on the second pier putting the last of the supports in place. The Badgers were busy making torches against the possibility of night combat, a favored tactic of the Goblins; they already had several hundred stored against such an eventuality, but Durek wanted more.
As the von der Jab’s servants began serving the evening meal, the Captain sought out Axel. “Dig out one of those feathers and take a good look around,” he ordered the wizard. “They’re close, I can smell ‘em.”
“Want me to take a patrol out and bring the surveyors back in?” Janna volunteered.
“Get a patrol together, but we’ll wait and see what Axel finds out,” Durek said, toying with his zurnal, the beard-broach that held together the braids of his beard.
The wizard seated himself with his back to a tree and rested his chin on his chest, eyed closed, with one of the hawk feathers held between his palms. He appeared to a dozing for several minutes, then shook himself and looked up, tossing aside the fragments of feather. “They’re here, Captain,” he said, a bit dazed by the experience afforded by the feather. “Several hundred Goblins and a supply train that looks like it includes siege weapons.”
“How ‘here’ are they,” the Dwarf demanded.
Axel shook his head to clear it. “Yasama are within sight of us as we speak, with fighting patrols a few hundred yards behind them and the main body a half mile out.”
Durek blurted something in the Dwarfish tongue that anyone would recognize, if not understand, and trotted off towards the gate. “Janna, stand ready with the patrol; Rolf, form a detail and be ready at the gate, check every container the loggers carry in, no alcohol at all. Kill the first one who resists. Axel, get the rest of the Company formed up and in position. Kroh, go tell Haakon to bring his crew in. Ready Janna? Let’s go.”
All races often find it difficult to recognize what members of another race are feeling, due as much to cultural mores as to physical differences, but Durek had li
ved with Humans for decades and thus had a good feeling for Men’s humors, and in this case even a whelp fresh from the tunnels could have figured it out: as the patrol trotted through the drunken camp, warning that the Spider was coming and for the loggers to withdraw into the Badger camp, they were met by laughter and verbal abuse. One or two loggers idly strolled towards the gate, motivated by curiosity, but the rest took humor in the situation. Realizing that this was the wrong approach, Durek shushed his patrol and sought out Evarts, who had been drinking but was far short of drunk.
“The Goblins are close to hand,” the Captain announced without preamble. “You need to bring your loggers and their families into our camp.”
“Do I, now?” Evarts regarded the Dwarf with an expression of mild interest. “And just how do you know they’re here?” He made a point of examining the quiet tree line, then raised his eyebrows at the sight of the Dwarven contingent dumping out their ready-tubs of flaume, securing their cranes, and loading their tools onto hand-carts. He knew that Haakon wasted no sunlight unless forced to by dire necessity.
“We know.” Durek saw no point in going on about enchanted feathers. “More to the point, in twenty minutes we’re going to seal up the only path into our camp. After that, anyone or anything that tries to come in will be killed.”
Evarts gave that some thought. “It’ll take time to gather up our goods.”
“Twenty minutes,” Durek insisted. “Starting now.”
The logging company boss studied the Dwarven work crews busily trundling their carts of tools through the stake belt and nodded once, more a gesture of internal decision than an agreement with the mercenary. “Right, get the tools and the lads inside the camp, and when they’re in there do what the Badgers say,” he instructed his crew bosses. “Anyone who stays outside can go lookin’ for another job.” A thought struck him. “What about Sachervall and his crew?”