The Alabaster Throne (The Fall of Atlantis Book 1)

by Wilson Harp

  “We’ll win,” Jubaas said. “Your plan will work.”

  “Do you say that to encourage me or to convince yourself?”

  “Both.”

  Tal laughed. “Go see to your bowmen, I need to get the spearmen in position.”

  Tal ordered his men to go to the locations he had marked out for them in the darkness of the early morning. The carried their spears and formed a single line, forty-seven men across.

  Yelsit carried the wolf banner on a long tent pole behind Tal.

  “Can the general see the shields from the top of the wall,” Yelsit asked.

  Tal saw several men positioned to watch the battle on the field beyond the city.

  “Likely not, it’s too far and too dark for him to see them on the ground,” Tal said. “And it’s too late to warn Bator anyway.” Tal pointed to the chariots which made their way across the muddy field in front of the army of Mestor.

  Tal counted six chariots. That was better than he expected. He was sure Bator would be able to pressure at least one or two lords into giving him an additional chariot.

  “What is he doing?” Yelsit said as one of the chariots did not stop in formation but continued toward Tal’s lines.

  A horn blew from the top of the wall, and was answered by two on the ground. The chariot kept coming, but the spearman stood on the top deck with his helm in his hand and his spear planted on the lower deck.

  “Do they send a messenger to talk?” Yelsit said.

  “I don’t know,” said Tal. “I wouldn’t think they would want to negotiate at this point.”

  “It’s Lortum,” said Yelsit.

  Tal smiled. It was Lortum, and he held his helm high as his chariot slowed just out of range of the bowmen.

  “Come with me,” Tal told Yelsit. They walked out to where the chariot had stopped.

  “Lortum, what are you doing?”

  “Bringing you a chariot,” he said. “It was my first opportunity to do so.”

  “If Praset ever gets his hands on you, you will wish you were sacrificed without elixir.”

  “Then I won’t let him touch me,” Lortum said as he hopped down from the chariot. “Do you wish to mount?”

  Tal shook his head. “No, you and your men take it to our camp. I don’t have room in my plan for a chariot.”

  Lortum looked at Tal’s lines. “Short spears and a lot of bowmen doesn’t seem like a good plan.”

  “Watch from the camp,” Tal said. “Their charge starts soon.”

  Lortum remounted his chariot and Tal and Yelsit hurried back to their position.

  A horn signaled the start of Bator’s charge just as Tal turned to face the enemy.

  “Shields up,” he cried and reached for his own shield.

  The horses galloped forward, but the faster they ran, the deeper the chariot wheels sank into the mud.

  “Bowmen to the flanks.” Tal heard the order for the third line of bowmen to take positions.

  “Bows at the ready,” Jubaas yelled.

  Tal and his men held their shields up, their spears forward.

  “Fire,” Jubaas yelled.

  A volley of arrows whipped over Tal’s head. He ducked on instinct, as did his men. Most of the arrows fell short, but several struck one of the horses, and it collapsed into the mud. The horse yoked to it didn’t stop and was twisted to the ground. The chariot flipped on its side, and there were four chariots left.

  The mud was too thick for them to be at full speed, and Tal had hope a third volley could be fired.

  “Fire,” came the order for the second volley.

  Two more chariots, including Bator’s, turned on their sides as the horses felt the deadly stings of the arrows. Tal saw the driver of the other chariot take an arrow into his face.

  Tal hoped Jubaas could get the third volley off, the chariots were very close. Tal could feel the ground rumble and hear the horses’ grunts.

  “Fire.”

  The bowmen were able to aim as close as the chariots were and the third volley was deadly accurate. All four horses which approached were cut down in mid-stride. The chariots flipped and crashed, the men inside thrown into the muddy ground.

  Tal saw Bator gain his feet near his toppled chariot. He yelled and signaled his spearmen forward as he trotted back toward his own lines. One of the chariot drivers cut free his remaining horse and it galloped off the field in a panic. Seven men were able to make it off the field without aid, the others lay dead or injured in the mud.

  The heavy spearmen marched toward Tal’s line.

  “Hold steady,” Tal ordered.

  Most of the men were trained with the heavy spear and knew it would be several minutes before the army of Mestor would be close enough to charge.

  “Bowmen, engage,” Toli ordered. He had been put in charge of the bowmen on the flanks.

  They fired their arrows toward the line of advancing spearmen, but most shots fell short. The men of Mestor all wore the thick leather armor which would stop all but a solid hit from any arrow at that distance, but the bowmen would fire anyway. A man’s courage is shallow when arrows fill the air.

  The bowmen of Mestor moved into a flank position. They would stay out of range unless the heavy spear needed to form ranks again. Then the bowmen would provide cover. If they moved into range, Tal’s bowmen would end their threat in one volley.

  Toli ordered another volley, and a few of the heavy spearmen fell.

  “Hold steady,” Tal ordered. He heard the rattle of spear and shield down the line. Several of the soldiers felt their will dissolve.

  The heavy spearmen yelled and rushed forward. Their spear points aimed at the center of the shields which would not withstand a single hit.

  “Fall back,” Tal said.

  “Bowmen, fire,” Jubaas ordered.

  Tal walked backward at a measured pace and flinched at the sound of arrows which flew just feet above his head.

  The rush of the heavy spearmen stalled as more fell to the arrows. The bowmen of the first rank would run behind the bowmen of the second rank after they fired.

  “Fall back,” Tal ordered as the heavy spear closed their ranks and surged forward again.

  “Bowmen fire,” came the order for the second rank of bowmen.

  More heavy spear fell, and this time Tal could see their courage waver.

  A horn blew from the city. Two short blasts, and one long blast. The signal to fall back.

  “Hold,” Tal said.

  The heavy spearmen of Mestor stopped their advance. The horn blew again. Two short, one long.

  “Bowmen, hold fire,” Tal ordered.

  The soldiers of Mestor, assured by commands of their enemy, turned and marched quickly back toward their own lines.

  “Should we pursue?” Yelsit asked.

  “No, I’ll need an army when I am king. I’ll not kill any of my own men after I’ve won the day.”

  Tal dropped his shield and waved to his men. “Let the priests do their work,” he cried. “Back to camp.”

  The men cheered and called Tal’s name as they returned to camp. Tal handed his spear to Yelsit and walked toward the chariot which watched from the road.

  “Greetings, Indaric,” he said as he approached.

  “A good day to you, Prince Taldirun. An impressive victory. The gods have surely blessed you.”

  “I hope so, but I doubt my brother has abandoned his claim on my throne.”

  “I heard about your battle in the Valley of Kerosh. They said you were as adept as Prince Olatic, though I had my doubts. I doubted your brother’s ability as well, thinking Praset was the mind behind the battles. I can see I was wrong.”

  “Praset is brilliant,” said Tal. “But he teaches all of his officers how to make decisions and change plans during the heat of the battle. He also encourages strategies which take full advantage of what you have over finding ways to cover your weaknesses.”

  Indaric looked toward the city. “I’m sure he wishes you were a less a
dept student than you have proved.”

  Tal smiled and came close to the chariot. “Can I count on your support?”

  Indaric looked at the two men who stood with him in the chariot.

  “I think we need to go and consult the gods,” he said before he looked back at Tal. “But the omens seem to be in your favor.”

  “Go and consult them,” Tal said. “I’ll wait for your news.”

  Indaric motioned to his driver and the chariot made a wide turn before it headed north at a trot.

  It wasn’t the answer Tal hoped for, but he knew once the nobles met and conferred, troops and weapons would come his way.

  Lortum had shed his armor and met Tal as he walked back to the camp.

  “Prince Taldirun, I have to say, that was a brilliant plan. But it won’t work again. Praset will anticipate it.”

  “I know, but I hope to have some chariots and heavy spears when we take the field again.”

  “There are few soldiers here, but they followed orders well. No panic, no fear. Excellent discipline.”

  “Those were the only orders we practiced,” Tal admitted. “I explained what to expect and what we would do in response. If I’d been wrong, there would have been no discipline and most of those men would be running until nightfall in whatever direction their legs took them.”

  “Then you deserve all the more praise for your battle plan.”

  They reached the camp and Tal found Jubaas and Yelsit.

  “We’ve won a big victory today, but it’s not over. Jubaas, send a message to the camp and have them move everything here. We will base here until we can enter the city in triumph. Send the wagons.”

  He turned to Yelsit. “For several days, they shut down the city to deny me men and news. Now we’ll return the favor. Gather fifty bowmen and ten spearmen and station them just beyond bow range of the south gate. Send the same number to the west gate. Don’t let anyone into the city, although those without arms may leave. Just inform them they may not return until I am crowned. The men at each gate will take horns and will blow three short blasts if Bator sends men to harass them.”

  Tal motioned to Lortum who had stood by as Tal gave his orders. “Come, we’ll drink some wine and you’ll tell me news of Mestor.”

  Lortum sat as Tal filled two cups with wine. He handed one to the chariot commander and leaned back on his pillows.

  Lortum sipped his cup and leaned back. “I wasn’t in the city,” he said. “I only returned yesterday. General Praset sent me as a messenger to Diaprepes on the day of the slaughter. I was distraught, for I wished to see the High King as he entered, but I consoled myself that I saw the entry of the High Queen and saw the joy on Prince Olatic’s face when he met his new bride.”

  Tal took a drink. He knew Olatic and Lortum were friends, and had been for years. When Olatic went on his first voyage to the barbarian lands, Lortum went as well, against the advice of Presat due to his skill in the chariot.

  “Why would he send you?”

  “The very question I had. I wasn’t a messenger, and yet Praset insisted I go. I was to deliver a scroll to a merchant who would give me a package in return. When I arrived, the merchant was out of town, and I was forced to wait until he returned before I could come home. I heard the news, of course, but I was compelled to stay there for almost a week.

  ‘When I did return, Praset told me you had turned on the king and slaughtered him and the rest of his court as well as the High Queen. He said it was the grace of the gods which spared your mother and brother, and we would meet you on the field the next day. I swore to him I would run you into the ground and stand with Prince Bator’cam when he took your head for a trophy.”

  “Then why did you deliver your chariot to me?” Tal asked.

  Lortum shrugged. “I had a dream. In it, I saw the slaughter as it happened. I was helpless to stop it, but I saw the attack. When I woke, I told my wife. She told me there were rumors you had escaped the slaughter and were one of the targets. She also had a dream, but wouldn’t tell me of it. She just said she was scared and we needed to leave the city that day. I helped her pack and get the children ready. She left for her brother’s farm by the south gate at dawn.

  “When I spoke to Valdros as we prepared the chariot, he was tired and his eyes were red. I asked him why, as it wasn’t like him to drink before a battle. He said he had a dream of a wolf who called to him. He said it was an omen and he would answer the wolf.

  “When he heard us talk, Binnok said he had a dream as well, and he saw an empty field as he drove his chariot, but hidden in the grass was a pack of wolves ready to devour all who came too close.

  “Two of us had dreams of wolves, and I had a dream that showed me the truth. When we rode out onto the field, we saw the wind catch your banner. ‘The silver wolf calls to me’, Valdros said.

  “I asked them if they would join you, and without hesitation they agreed. So when we pulled into position, we just didn’t stop.”

  Tal shook his head. “Dreams can shape the fortune of kingdoms,” he said. “I’m glad to have you in my camp.”

  Lortum drank his wine in a single gulp. “Be a good king,” he said. “Be what Prince Olatic would’ve been.”

  Tal raised his cup to the memory of his brother and drank and talked with Lortum into the evening. The days ahead would be dark, but that afternoon Tal just enjoyed wine and conversation with a friend.

  Siande arrived as the sun sank and Lortum left to find a place to sleep with Valdros and Binnok.

  “You’ve had a bit to drink,” Siande said. “He may not be a good influence on you, my prince.”

  “He’s a friend of Olatic. And a friend of mine. We told stories and recalled the things that I remember Olatic doing that made father, and mother mostly, angry. Lortum was always there. Sometimes he got Olatic into more trouble, sometimes he kept him from the same. But he was always there.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Your father sent him away the day Olatic died. He knew that Lortum wouldn’t betray the royal family. He knew that if he didn’t send him away, he would have to kill the most skilled chariot commander in Mestor.”

  Siande smiled and laid back on the pillows with a cup of wine.

  “And what was your favorite story?” she asked.

  “He had a dream last night.”

  Chapter 19

  Every day the clouds lightened and the sun peeked through more and more. Bator, or more correctly Praset, showed no signs of activity. The gates opened after dawn each day and closed well before dark. A small, but steady, stream of people left the city, many loaded with heavy packs or pulling carts with all of their belongings.

  Most headed toward a peaceful farm or village where they could impose upon a relative for a few weeks until the succession was settled. But some found their way to the encampment which housed Tal and his army. Some of those were genuine supporters of Tal, others were there to curry favor with the man they felt would soon sit on the throne.

  Tal was not interested in which merchant had come to support him, or in some cases had sent servants to flatter and persuade him while entertaining Bator within the city. Nor did he care to know about past abuses and long held grievances by different parties who sought to trade their support for a royal blessing in their petty squabbles.

  Few of those who joined his camp from Mestor were of any immediate use to him. Craftsmen were forbidden to leave the city, and soldiers had been physically locked into their barracks when not on duty. But even so, Tal’s forces had grown each day, mostly farmers and woodsmen who had some skill with the bow had come into camp as news of his victory spread. Tal had an open offer of daily pay for talented bowmen, and twice the amount for a man who would stand on the front line with a spear and shield. Even so, the ranks of his spearmen remained sparse.

  Tal kept busy as he was called on to make every minor decision if someone saw him. He was asked where tents should be set, where the children could play, and even what spices should
be used in the food. He wearied of the unnecessary diversions, but he knew he must be seen. If he hid himself away, word would spread he was ill or worried. He needed spirits high in the camp.

  “I’m sure they are fine sheep,” Tal said.

  A shepherd had brought thirty sheep right into the middle of camp when someone had shown him where Tal was. Janu held clumps of grass out to one of the sheep and Siande encouraged and applauded him.

  “You’ve got plenty of men, so I’m sure you need plenty of food,” the shepherd said.

  “We do, but I’m not the one who actually buys and sells for the camp. Let me find him for you,” Tal said. He didn’t know anything about sheep, how many he would need to buy to feed his army, or what the fair price for a small flock was.

  He looked around for the young man Daelcor had recommended to organize all of the provisions and supplies. He had been an acolyte for Hondre when Praset discovered he had a talent for logistics. He was among the first to walk out of Mestor to find Tal. And to Tal’s embarrassment, he could never remember his name. He spotted him speaking with two of the serenes who had found their way into camp two nights before.

  “There he is,” Tal said. “You can show him your livestock and he’ll decide for me.”

  The shepherd scratched his beard and winked at Tal. “Looks like he is already in deep negotiations. I’d be wise to wait until he finishes if I want the best price.”

  Tal laughed and slapped the man on his shoulder. “You do that, but I must move on.”

  Tal needed to go see the spearmen in their part of the camp. He visited once a day just so they could see their commander, but he didn’t like Siande to visit with him. The soldiers were crude and bawdy at times, and Siande fumed at Tal as if it were all his fault the one time he had let her join him.

  “You take Janu back when he’s done fattening that one,” Tal said. “I need to go see the troops.”

  Siande looked up at him with a smile. She opened her mouth to respond when the long blast of a copper horn came from Mestor. The entire camp went silent.

  “Bator,” Siande said.