Rising Vengeance (The Anarian Chronicles Book 1)

by Stephen Trolly

  “You now have the strength that you have long claimed you needed. You will march on Dishmo Kornara, and you will do it soon.”

  “These petty skirmishes you have me engage in are more costly than you seem to think, my lord. The Meclaryan people will not leave this land in peace while any still live. Nor will they retreat willingly, not without dealing every last stroke that they wish to. Many of the Deshika would rather run than stand when they hear the roars and battle cries of the Dragon Hearted. So, though I have the strength to attack the great city of the Ringlords, it would hardly suffice to get us to the walls, for we must conquer Meclarya first, or leave a mighty people unfought to aid our enemies as they will.”

  “I will not have these excuses. I told you-” he started, but Makret cut him off.

  “If you wish to lead this army yourself, then kill me now. If not, then I will lead this army as I must to ensure that it survives.” Shock, more than anything, kept The Kindler from responding. No one had ever interrupted him before. “We’re far from reinforcements here, and the Drogodan fleet has been attacking our ships and withdrawing as only they are able to. We’ve lost many of our remaining ships. And my spies report that Drogoda’s new Morschcoda, Edya Reeshnar, also my replacement as High General of the armies of Imperial Drogoda, has both replaced her former incompetent Admiral with a man of great power and experience and has also ordered the arming of merchant ships. None of our remaining ships could leave Anaria now, even if we were desperate enough to try to send them.”

  The Kindler considered Makret’s words. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he had to agree with his famous Morschen General. On the battlefield, Ringlords were dangerous enough. Behind massive walls as old as time, impregnated with hundreds of spells to bind the ancient rocks together, Ringlords would be beyond dangerous. Slowly, The Kindler nodded, and turned back to face Makret Druoth. “Gather all our forces. Prepare to march on the Morschen armies at Emin-Tal.”

  “What if they don’t march to meet us?”

  “They will, Druoth. Now, you have your orders.”

  “Yes, my lord Kindler.”

  The Battle of Emin-Tal

  The plateau of Emin-Tal in western Meclarya was shaped like two triangles smashed together. The road that led from Agrista to Airachni passed underneath the broken knees of the plateau’s eastern edge. Another branch of the road, leading westward into the heart of Anaria towards Alquendiro and Eshtam-Nis, passed at the foot of the giant cliff at the southernmost edge of Emin-Tal. Thousands of years before, Drogoda and Eschcota had fiercely contended the plateau with Meclarya, for whoever controlled Emin-Tal would control a long stretch of the road, and all the trade that passed along it. There were other things that made it desirable, namely the veins of ore contained within the stony highlands. Iron, copper, and gold could be found all throughout Emin-Tal, but of particular interest to the Drogs were the veins of silver ore running through its southern cliffs. Even after House Calmi took hold the Meclaryan Morschcodal Throne and permanently stationed a force of arms and several Dragon Riders on the plateau, Drogoda went to great efforts to continue mining and extracting the silver ore that they had managed to keep secret for so long.

  It was on and around the broken rocks of Emin-Tal that The Kindler would meet the full strength of the armies of the Morschen for the first time. Torridestans had forced his small occupying army out of western Rista, and now he had enemies closing in from the north as well, but he was not worried. He ordered for the Deshika to retreat several leagues, to make it seem that his enemy had chosen the battlefield, and waited.

  * * * * *

  Edya Reeshnar and Erygan Dalrey met on the northwestern edge of what they knew would soon be a battlefield. The last battlefield of the war they hoped, though they both doubted it. Edya, in command of most of the armies of Imperial Drogoda, which she had finally managed to marshal in one place, had yet to deploy her army, and was even then putting together two battle plans for the small war that would undoubtedly drag on for days, possibly even weeks. Dragon Riders reported to the Morschcoda at regular intervals about the progress of Makret Druoth’s Deshik army. It seemed that he and the other Deshik commanders had accepted the chance to destroy the Morschen in one grand battle, however long and horrible that battle must be. The Deshik forces numbered, as near as the guesses of the few Dragon Riders who came back could make them, as many as four hundred and fifty thousand warriors, but certainly no fewer than four hundred and twenty thousand. Imperial Drogoda’s armies, fully marshalled, numbered just over three hundred thousand, but no word had come from Noldoron. The armies of Caladea and Armanda combined for nearly half of that number, one hundred and fifty thousand soldiers between them. The Drogs added forty thousand foot soldiers and twenty thousand Mordak Riders to that number. Thirty thousand well-armed Dothrin warriors, Storinea’s full army of ten thousand, and the twice decimated Dragon Hearted, which was all that was left of Meclarya’s battered army, a bare five thousand hardened in battle against the Deshika, brought Edya’s armies up to a total of two hundred and fifty five thousand, no more than maybe fifty thousand of which were Morschledu. Erygan’s forces, under the command of the same general who had led the defence of Toredo years before, consisted of thirty thousand Ristans and fifty thousand Torridestans. Another eighteen thousand Ringlords marched under the Storm Cloud of the Kingdom of Torridesta. Erygan had also given Norrin orders that his army was not to leave Dishmo Kornara, no matter what news made it back to the capital. With the Eschcotan absence coupled with the Noldorin disappearance, the Morschen armies were missing nearly ninety thousand troops; men who would be badly needed on the battlefield, Edya had no doubt.

  * * * * *

  When The Kindler was known to be only two days away, Edya began deploying the Morschen armies according to the plans that she had drawn up with several other commanders from both Empires. Plans for both attacking the Deshika and, plans for, Erygan and Daliana were shocked to hear, an ordered retreat from Emin-Tal should the battle go too badly too quickly.

  “The battle is sure to go badly” argued Daliana “if we’re already planning our retreat.”

  But General Domrar Cadrick of Torridesta had an answer. “Plans for retreat merely prevent our troops from scattering if the battle swings heavily in the Deshika’s favour.”

  And Edya herself argued the point. “Your father made a point of drawing up two retreat plans for every battle he ever fought, your majesty: one in case of a rout, and one if neither side could truly claim victory. But since most of his plans began with a charge of the Brotherhood of the Mordak, few of his retreat plans were ever used.”

  “Unfortunately, the Brotherhood of the Mordak won’t have room up here on the plateau.”

  “That is precisely what I am counting on, Morschcoda Erygan.”

  Her plan, as it turned out, was really quite simple, but all the more deadly for it. Since the only way to get onto the plateau was by climbing, or flying in the cases of the Dragon Riders, almost all of the Morschen infantry would be on top of the plateau. The Brotherhood of the Mordak and all cavalry that they had, as well as ten infantry banners, two thousand men from each country represented on the field except Storinea, and another two thousand each from Drogoda, Armanda, and Caladea, who had the largest infantry armies, would be camped along the ancient Drog mining road that ran beneath the face of the southern cliffs. Edya’s plan was that the Deshika would arrive from the northeast and start climbing the cliffs to get to the Morschen. While that was happening, the Morschen cavalry would charge north along the road and meet those still waiting to scale the fifty foot cliffs of Emin-Tal, while the infantry would charge and destroy any Deshika that made it up. He plans for retreat were more obvious, with a far smaller chance of something going wrong. All the cavalry and foot soldiers on the lower plains would fall back to Airachni. Erygan and Marrdin would retreat back towards Torridesta on foot and the rest of the combined army would fall back to Alquendiro, where they would regr
oup. By splitting up, Edya hoped to confuse the advancing Deshik armies, and force them to waste valuable time ordering their forces for the chase. It was Erygan, however, who pointed out the most obvious flaw in the plan.

  “Makret will be prepared for the attacks you have planned. They’re too obvious. And if the battle goes badly for the Deshika right away, The Kindler himself might take an interest in the outcome. We have too few Morschledu with the strength to make a difference in the fighting anyways. None of those will be able to stand against The Kindler, and I won’t see them slaughtered without reason when we may need them badly later.”

  Edya did not disagree, though she was tempted to tell Erygan to leave running the army to seasoned warriors and not to get himself hurt. As it was, she muttered a remark about getting some of his beard hairs out of place if he continued to stick his nose into her plans, but she managed to calm down quickly. “If The Kindler comes, all commanders have been ordered to retreat immediately. My plan originally called for a last stand of the Dragon Hearted, which Daken volunteered, but if The Kindler himself should enter the fray, even they will retreat.” Erygan relented, accepting Edya’s answer, though by no means satisfied with it. What she did not say was that if The Kindler himself entered the fight, she would remain behind to ensure the retreat went as planned. She felt that of all of the Ringlords at the battlefield, she had the greatest chance of holding The Kindler back while her armies retreated, but she had no idea what Makret would do. If he unleashed his power at the beginning of the battle, then no matter what she did, The Kindler would never risk himself. As the other Morschcoda left her tent, she wondered if there was a way to draw out the Morschen’s ancient enemy with any certainty of success. But she could not think of anything, and she knew that even by sacrificing herself as Taren had, there was no way she could kill the lord of the Seven Devils.

  * * * * *

  When the Deshika were only one day away and the Morschcoda were too busy to worry about that one small detail, she told them that she would remain behind if The Kindler showed himself. To her surprise, none of them argued.

  Daken, though, had something to say. “If you’re willing to sacrifice yourself to ensure that we can escape, then Drogoda has a bright future with you as Morschcoda. That is, if any of us live through what’s coming. Drogoda’s throne has a powerful, and brave, new occupant.”

  Though it was not the most hopeful or inspiring thing to say, coming from Daken, it was a great compliment. It offended Daliana, though, as the Drogodan Throne was hers. And Daken’s phrasing made it sound like Edya would be replacing Daliana eventually.

  But, for all of Edya’s power, and her daring, and her brilliantly simple plans, she was an untested Commanding General, and her first challenger would likely be the greatest one she would ever have to face. Makret Druoth had been running loose with his fifteen thousand Deshika for a long time before The Kindler’s second army had arrived. And he had known well the southern cliffs and the eastern road from his own time as Drogoda’s High General and Taren’s right hand. During each of those two eras, he had studied the plateau of Emin-Tal with a savage intensity. He knew every rock, every twist of the bumpy road, every tiny rise in the land for miles around. It was the only truly defensible formation between the Dak River and the Dragon’s Roost Mountains. Not that Makret revealed any of those facts to the Deshika. Makret made a guess as to what Edya would do, and he sent his men right into it. The Deshika marched in a parade along the road. The Morschen cavalry charged without hesitation.

  * * * * *

  Edya looked over the side of the plateau and saw the approaching Deshik horde, still several miles away. It was magnificent really, the massive columns of giants marching in unison. Without turning away, she sent Regath Encarthian the order to attack. Almost an hour passed before she could feel the earth-shattering charge of her cavalry. Another half-bell passed before she could see them. Only then did she turn back to her own army.

  * * * * *

  The Morschen line, seventy thousand men and women on horse and Mordak, almost one quarter of all the Morschen strength, swept along the road to take the Deshika in the side. But Makret had foreseen the stroke, and the main strength of his army had occupied a line of low hills about a quarter of a mile from the road, hidden from the sight of the Morschen on the plateau, while a much smaller force marched south along the road. The Brotherhood met that force head on, and great was the clash of their meeting. Regath Encarthian at the forefront of the battle drove through the front ranks, his sword a blur as he lashed around him, felling Deshik warriors with each blow. The Deshika were driven back in ruin, but then Makret’s main army charged. It took the leading edge of the horsemen in the flank, crushing their lines and forcing them up against the broken eastern wall of the plateau, where they did not have the space to maneuver. Mordak Riders tried to sweep back along the road from where they had finished their charge, but their line had been broken, and they did not have the time to reform it. Thousands of Morschen fell from their horses to be trampled under the pounding hooves and Deshik feet. Riderless Mordak rampaged through the field, adding to the chaos, tearing apart anyone who got in their way, Morschen and Deshika alike. A banner of Torridestan knights managed to break free of the southern end of the battle, where the Deshik lines were weakest. Regrouping, they swung north and charged along the road, freeing half of a banner of Caladean Horse-Sisters. Together, they charged at a large group of Deshika surrounding four thousand Armandans, rescuing them as well. Regrouping at the northern edge of the battlefield, the seven thousand knights charged southward along the face of the cliff.

  Their charge was almost too late. The battle was over, only the fighting had yet to stop. Regath Encarthian had marshalled fifteen thousand horsemen and Riders against the face of the cliff, hoping to drive eastward and escape the slaughter that the battle had turned into. He knew that his battle was already lost, and that his failure might cost the Morschen on the plateau to fall as well, but he had to hold his men together. He knew that their hope had been only in quick cavalry strikes, but he, Edya, and every one of their commanders had failed to factor in two things: Makret’s uncanny prowess as a battlefield commander, and the Deshika’s enormous size. A Deshik warrior stood nearly nine feet tall. At that height, he dwarfed a tall man, and could still look that same man in the eye when he was mounted on a horse or Mordak that was six feet tall at the shoulder. And with their four arms, they could wield their weapons much more effectively than all but the best of the Morschen warriors. The seven thousand knights broke upon the northern flank of the Deshika, where they were strongest, but also facing away from the charge. Their charge scattered and killed thousands of Deshika, and the magic of a few Ringlords, finally called into battle, scattered the rest when their charge could do no more. Armandans unleashed wave after wave of punishing fireballs into the Deshik ranks. Torridestans of darker and more creative mindsets opened portals in the middle of warriors, cutting them in half, or underneath them, causing them to fall, and reappear high in the sky, falling hundreds of feet to their deaths, and the deaths of anyone they landed on. It did not take long for the Deshika to learn to move if they saw or heard a portal opening.

  Only when the two armies broke apart for the first time was it possible to see the extent of the damage done to the Morschen soldiers, the Deshika, and the land itself. Massive boulders that had not moved since their creation had been thrown against the immoveable eastern face of Emin-Tal. Bodies lacking limbs lay strewn across a battlefield nearly fifteen miles long. Many of those limbs were noticeably absent, transported only a handful of Torridestans knew where. The number of dead, Morschen and Deshika, Mordak and horse, was mind-numbing. Of the twenty thousand Riders who made up the Brotherhood of the Mordak, only twelve thousand were still mounted. Over three thousand had lost their Mordak, while several hundred Mordak without Riders still rampaged through the ruined battlefield, either alone or in packs. Of the Morschen Cavalry’s other fifty thousand knights, n
early twenty thousand lay dead upon the field. One whole banner, two thousand Horse-Sisters from Caladea’s southern plains, had been unhorsed, but had for the most part escaped. Nobody knew any real numbers though. All they saw were hills of dead. Regath gathered his broken force as best he could and decided on the only course he could take. He ordered his army to fall back over five miles, to a long hill overlooking a series of shallow valleys. Though his men were tired, and many were wounded, the march only took about half of an hour. When the hill was fortified, he consulted with his commanders.