by JD Byrne
This was one of those moments when the Neldathi reliance on passing along knowledge orally greatly frustrated Antrey. “Then find someone who is!” she yelled. Hirrek slipped out of the tent, moving with more speed than she had seen in weeks.
“Jeyn Antrey,” Birkthir began again, in a calm, reasoning tone that Antrey had learned to be wary of, “assuming that there is a frozen lake somewhere nearby, what is your plan for it?”
With Hirrek gone for however long it would take to find some Volakeyn intelligence, Antrey decided now was as good a time as any to explain her plan. “I am led to believe that, at this time of year, the lakes in this region freeze over.”
“That is my understanding as well,” Birkthir said. The others nodded in agreement.
“Furthermore, the ice that forms on the top of these lakes is thick and sturdy enough to be crossed on foot, although the ice may crack underneath. In truth, the ice is only a few feet thick at most, correct?”
More nods.
“All right. I want to use those properties to our advantage when we confront the Degans.”
The others still looked confused. Before any of them had a chance to ask any other questions, Hirrek burst through the tent flap. Behind him he dragged another young man who had obviously not come willingly.
“This is Geban,” Hirrek said without any hint of ceremony. “He is the Assistant Master of the Hunt for the Volakeyn.”
“Assistant Master of the Hunt?” Antrey asked Hirrek. “Is that the best we can do?”
Hirrek stood his ground. “In my experience, jeyn, it is the assistants who know the lay of the land in their territory much better than the theks, masters, or war leaders.” He looked at Birkthir and Kajtan, who both might have had reason to take umbrage. “No offense to present company, of course.”
“Fine,” Antrey said, exasperated but satisfied by his explanation. She walked over to them and gave Hirrek a quick look. He released his grip on the young man’s arm. “Hello, Geban. I am Jeyn Antrey. I don’t believe we have met.”
“No, jeyn,” he said, his voice trembling and weak.
“I did not think so. But I have spoken much with Ilan, your thek. War Leader Hakan, as well. They have been very helpful to me and to our cause. I hope you can do the same.”
He nodded. “How may I be of service, jeyn?”
“I am in need of a lake,” she said, walking around the young man. “A frozen lake, more specifically. I understand that, at this time of year, many of the lakes in this area would be frozen, more or less. Is that right?”
“Yes, jeyn,” he said, becoming more confident. “That is true.”
“So, Assistant Master of the Hunt, do you know of any such places near here? Someplace that the column might reach in a few days’ march?”
He thought for a moment. “I do know of such a place, jeyn. I do not know if it is near enough to suit your needs, however.”
“We can be the judge of that,” she said. “Tell me of this place.”
“It is near the very southern end of the Vander Range. Technically, it is in the territory of the Akan, but I believe it can accurately be described as disputed.”
Antrey scanned the room for confirmation from one of the others. Such territorial disputes were common and one of the sources of conflict the Triumvirate had exploited, but she had no idea if this particular area qualified. “Does it have a name?”
“It is called Lake Neyn and lies between two foothills. It is long and narrow, but not very deep, if memory serves.”
“How wide?” Antrey asked. “How long?”
“No more than a mile across at the widest point. Perhaps fifteen miles long.”
“What else do you know of it?”
“A small river flows out of the lake’s southern end. The hills are fairly steep on either side, though they are easily passable. The going would be slow, but possible. What else would you like to know, jeyn?”
It sounded like it might work nicely. “Can you lead us to it, Geban?” Antrey asked.
“I believe so,” he said. “I would first need to know specifically where we are located now. Once I know that, I can lead the column to the lake.”
“How many days do you think it would take to reach it?”
“Five days, perhaps six, depending on the conditions,” he said. Before she had a chance to ask another question, he said, “Is that close enough, jeyn?”
Antrey nodded. “Yes, I think that will be fine. We need not be in any great hurry.” None of the others objected at this point, so Antrey considered the matter settled. “Return to your thek, Geban. Tell him that you are now a part of my staff. Return here at daybreak. Is that understood?”
“Yes, jeyn,” he said, his face brightening. Whether at the chance to get away from Ilan or to work more closely with her, she could not tell. “Thank you very much.” He turned and left in a hurry.
Kajtan had remained silent while Antrey interrogated Geban, but he could keep quiet no longer. “Jeyn Antrey, would you please tell me what you plan to do with this lake?”
She smiled, enjoying the sensation of being one step ahead of everyone else for a change.
~~~~~
Five days turned out to be an optimistic estimate. The entire operation, from Geban’s survey to determine their original position to the proper array of the column to weaving through the foothills, took twice that long. To the outside world, Antrey presented herself as a leader fuming at the incompetence of her underlings at the delay. In truth, she was pleased to have more time to prepare and hone her plan. Once she had explained it to her advisors, they were convinced of its promise, if given to quibble over the details.
The rest of the theks and war leaders were a more difficult audience, however. For the first time, Antrey held a war council, sitting down with all seven theks and their war leaders. They met in a small round tent that allowed Antrey to array them in a circle around her, while she paced and talked and set forth the plan. Having all eyes on her the entire time helped focus her mind and choose her words carefully. Antrey was certain they would do what she asked of them. But she wanted them to share that certainty, to strengthen their resolve and help them keep their own warriors in form.
The delay also allowed Antrey to prepare detailed plans for each part of the trap she was setting for the Degans. It was by far the most ambitious plan she had ever conceived, requiring flawless execution by several disparate groups. As best as she could, Antrey mixed the warriors and commanders to avoid assigning any particular task to any one particular clan. She thought a mixed force was less likely to run. It also occurred to her that allowing any one clan the claim to have turned the battle would make for increased tensions in the long run.
The column would move as one, in its typical fashion, in full view of the Dagan scouts and spies. A keen eye might have seen the display as a sign of a trap, but Antrey was counting on the Dagan commanders to view it through their perception of her as inexperienced and incapable as a leader. The column would march slowly to the west, around the northern shore of the lake, and then to the south. It would make a large, semipermanent camp on the shore about two-thirds down the length of the lake. The location was picked based on Geban’s memory and for a very precise reason. It was in a spot that offered little space between the frozen lake and the steep hills to the west. Equally important, it was close enough to the opposite shore to be seen with the naked eyes. Antrey hoped the Degans would see it as an inviting target.
While the column moved south down the lakeshore openly and notoriously, small groups of warriors would peel off and disappear into the foothills. It was to be a constant trickle, such that by the end of the march, several thousand warriors and a large number of cannon would be hidden in the hills when camp was made.
The hardest part of the plan had been convincing Hirrek and Naath that Antrey needed to be a part of the camp on the shore of the lake. The safer place for her, clearly, was in the hills. If something went wrong, if the whole plan blew up
around her, she could be secretly taken away to safety. But Antrey had convinced them she needed to be in the main camp, visible to any who were looking in. She was unique amongst the army, not due to her brilliance or strength, but by virtue of her birth. From a distance, any one Neldathi warrior looked much like any other of his clan. But each ranbren was unique. The Degans knew exactly what Antrey looked like. If they could not see her in camp, they might suspect a trick of some kind.
If the Degans had any suspicions about what was going on, they hid it well. The reports from Antrey’s agents, if accurate, said that the Dagan army trailed their column after they first broke camp. When they reached the lake, the Dagan army mirrored the column’s movement from the opposite side of the lake. From the western shore, Antrey could see the Dagan cook fires across the lake. Surely they could see hers as well.
Now they were waiting. For what, Antrey could not tell. After the ten days it had taken to maneuver into this position, they had sat in camp for three more. On that third night, Antrey wandered through the camp on the shore, making her presence known to friend and foe alike. The waiting made her tense. The plan was to give the Degans such a tempting target that they would jump on it once given the chance. The longer everyone remained in place, the more second thoughts the Degans might have, the more cautious their war leaders might be about what they were seeing. More than a thousand warriors and two dozen cannon lay concealed in the hills behind her. The trap was set perfectly. It would be a shame to put all that effort in for nothing.
They would wait one more night, perhaps two. If the Degans did not cross the lake by then, she would need to think of another option.
~~~~~
The next morning dawned slowly, the sun struggling to burn through the low mist that clung to the hillsides. Although the fog did not cover the lake itself, it shrouded the land on either side, including the column’s camp. It also kept Antrey and her sentries from seeing what the Degans were doing on the opposite shore.
Naath found Antrey as she shared a cup of bitter tea made from the bark of nearby trees with the old woman who was tending the pot. She shivered, both against the cold, damp morning and the tea itself.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Didn’t I tell you and the rest of them to hang back in the hills until it was safe?”
Naath stopped cold at the sharp tone of the question. “I was looking for you. We can’t see much through the fog.”
“You were worried about me,” Antrey said. “Fine. I appreciate your concern, but…”
He cut her off. “We, the lot of us, were worried about you. I was dispatched to find you, make sure you were safe, and relay any new orders.” The old woman gave him a cup of tea. He took it, obviously surprised to have been offered it.
She smiled in spite of herself. She knew that Naath would not have set off on his own to allay his concerns about her, even if she wished he might. She decided to trouble him for it. “So they sent you, because…” she said, leaving the sentence open-ended.
“Because I’m useless up in the hills, yes. I appreciate your recognition.”
She chuckled, enough that the old woman picked up and did the same, even though she could not understand what they were saying. “There are no new orders, of course,” she said, sipping her tea. “How could there be? Nothing’s changed.” She nodded back towards the hills. “How is the visibility up there?”
“Better than down here. At least we can see up over this bank of fog and out over the lake.”
“So they can see when the Degans attack this morning?”
“If they do, yes.”
Antrey took another sip and thought for a moment. “In that case, there are new orders. Maybe ‘clarification’ is a better word. Under no circumstances are the guns in the hills to open up until the main body of the Dagan army is engaged on the shore. Assuming they attack at all, of course. Is that clear?” It must have been, because she saw a look of concern flash across Naath’s face. “The only way this plan will work is if the Degans don’t know there are guns and men up in the hills. If they figure that out, they will just turn and run back to the other shore. We need to suck them in. Understand?”
He nodded. “I just wish this fog would lift. At least then you can see what’s coming.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, trying to be reassuring. “We’ll be fine. Sacrifices will have to be made. But when this is over, there will be no division among these people.”
Naath smirked. “Among people that are neither mine nor yours.” He handed the nearly full cup of tea back to the old woman. “I’ll report back to the others.” He started to walk away, into the fog, but stopped before he disappeared completely. “Take care of yourself.”
“You, too,” she said, then watched the fog swallow him whole as he walked back to the hills.
Once Naath was gone, Antrey handed her empty cup back to the old woman and began walking through the camp, making sure everyone was awake, alert, and had their weapons at the ready. The rifles were all in the hills, with the cannon. The warriors on the beach that would meet the Degans face to face would be wielding a mixture of spears, bows, and axes. Two groups of musketeers, with weapons secured by Naath and his Islander contacts, held the flanks. All they needed to do was hold the Degans for a few moments, if the Degans attacked at all.
An hour later, just as the fog began to lift, they did.
At first there was an odd rush of sound. Not footsteps, exactly, given the lake’s frozen surface. But there was definitely something in the air that preceded the Degans’ shrill battle cry. When she heard those cries, Antrey did as she promised Hirrek and all the others. She hid. She had planned to take cover in a clutch of large rocks near the edge of the camp, but the attack caught her out of position. With surefooted strides she moved swiftly towards the hills, jumping behind a tree that had been felled to provide extra cover.
Four warriors with bows were already there when she vaulted the fallen tree and crouched behind it. “Now is the time,” she said in her best and most commanding Neldathi, trying to reassure them. They looked at her nervously, then at each other. Without saying anything, they peeked over the tree and began to loose arrows at the onrushing Degans.
From down the shoreline, Antrey could hear the ragged firing of the musketeers. Instead of furious bursts of massed shot, they sounded like they were firing in rapid succession, one after the other. She knew from her reading that massed fire was critical for muskets to have any impact. Individual aiming was useless, given their limited accuracy and range. But Neldathi warriors and hunters, raised on bows and, in some instances, deadly accurate long-range rifles, were not quick to adopt a strategy that ran counter to their traditions. She would have to do better with them in the near future, Antrey knew.
The swirl of warriors in battle, the swinging of blades, and the zip of arrows stirred the fog and made it begin to thin out. It parted enough that Antrey could see that the Dagan force was fully engaged. Peering out over her protective cover, she quickly processed what she was seeing. Unless the Degans were holding back a significant reserve force, this was the extent of their army. And it was just where Antrey needed it to be to spring the trap. She turned and looked at the hills behind her and waited.
The screams of warriors on both sides, in addition to the arrows that now dug deeply into the tree, made the fight seem much larger and more visceral than Antrey anticipated. In her mind she had seen a swift and mostly bloodless affair, any great loss of life being avoided thanks to her clever plan. That hope had been naive, she realized now. Now her best hope was that the carnage playing out on the shore would be kept to a minimum and could be overcome later.
Birkthir and Kajtan must have seen the same thing Antrey did. Just a few moments later, the deep booming sound of cannon fire ripped from the hillside. Only after the second round of fire did Antrey dare step up from behind her hiding place to see if the volleys were having the desired effect. To her relief, they were. Rather than fire do
wn on the shore where the fighting was taking place, which would have killed friend and foe indiscriminately, the cannon had fired over the fray completely. The cannon balls plunged into the lake behind the Degans, through the ice, without hitting a single person.
The Degans either had not noticed the cannon fire at all or were ignoring it, thinking it was poorly aimed and harmless. They had no cannon of their own, having left them in reserve on the other side of the lake. It took a third volley for the Degans who were near the rear of the fighting, still standing on the ice itself, to figure out what was happening. They turned and saw huge holes of freezing water opening behind them, cutting off their line of retreat.
This was the crucial point of Antrey’s plan. She needed the Degans to do the sensible thing and try to run. If they disengaged and tried to retreat, her warriors would not pursue them. But the Degans would quickly learn they had nowhere to go. Trapped between the icy waters and the superior forces confronting them, they would surrender.
It appeared to be working. Antrey could see panic beginning to take hold among the Degans. They did precisely what she expected. They began to turn and run, trying to flee back across the frozen lake, either too frightened to see the breaks in the ice or unable to stop themselves. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of Dagan warriors plunged into the water. Battle cries turned to the anguished shouts of the drowning. Men thrashed in the water, shocked by the ferocity of the cold, literally freezing to death.
“You three, come with me,” Antrey said to the archers who remained behind the fallen tree. The other was gone, but she did not dwell on what might have happened to him. They nodded and followed her as she hopped over the tree and walked briskly to the water line.
“Stop this!” Antrey yelled in the most commanding Neldathi tone she could muster. She had been practicing this one phrase for just this moment. It appeared to be working. Not only did her own warriors stop fighting in the small pockets where they were still engaged, but the Degans did as well. Perhaps more due to surprise than actual obedience, but Antrey didn’t care. She turned to her own forces. “Your brothers are drowning,” she called out in another well-practiced Neldathi phrase. “Save them!”