by R. L. Poston
As the Alliance forces retreated almost uncontested, the Dark Force reinforcements were battling their own panic-stricken soldiers. Leaders of the reinforcements tried to turn the fleeing troops around, giving orders to their men to strike down anyone who fled. This resulted in a pitched battle between squads that sought to retreat and reserve squads that sought to stop them. The fighting escalated across the entire enemy line. No one was able to tell who was on which side. Many went berserk and simply attacked anyone within reach. The madness lasted for the better part of an hour, as the enemy reinforcements cut their own men to shreds.
“Couldn’t have done a better job ourselves,” said Gahen as he watched in awe as the enemy decimated their own ranks. “I’ll bet they killed at least five hundred men down there.”
“More importantly,” growled Estron, who had joined Larken and Gahen, “they won’t be attacking any more today. Gentlemen, we have carried the day. A great victory for the three kingdoms. My congratulations to you, Commander Larken. If you think it proper, I think that you should walk the lines and the camps tonight while the rest of us so-called leaders reorganize for tomorrow.”
“You think that would help?” asked Larken.
“You’ve become a legend, my boy—especially after what we’ve just seen,” answered Estron. “Give the men a look at you, and they’ll fight twice as hard tomorrow.”
“I hope so,” said Larken. “Tomorrow, we’ll need it. This was only the first day of a long battle. Not the whole thing.”
“You’re probably right, and doubly wise to recognize that,” answered Estron. “But just remember—it’s a day that we lived through, and probably a lot more of us than anyone expected.”
* * * * *
The next day was a repeat of the previous day, except that the Dark Forces did not rout as easily. The counterattack by the three kingdoms managed to clear a considerable amount of the slopes, but the Dark Forces held their lines even in retreat. The retreat of the Alliance forces from the counterattack was costly. The Dark Forces’ Healers were also kept further away from the lines. This resulted in far fewer Healers being within reach of Elven arrows, but it also severely limited the effectiveness of the Dark Forces’ mind lances. The Alliance leaders all agreed that it netted to the good for the three kingdoms.
At the end of the day, the Alliance forces had again held their hills and, by most accounts, had won the day. The strain on the forces was easy to see, however. Even those who had escaped injury were exhausted, and very few had entirely escaped injury. The Healers were overburdened to the point of having to turn away those whose injuries were not immediately dangerous. This caused a lot of grumbling even among the most experienced warriors.
Larken and Gahen were walking through the camps, both to encourage and to take stock of their forces.
“I think that we can hold these hills at least one more day,” said Larken. “What’s your opinion?”
“For one more day,” agreed Gahen. “Then, we will have to fall back. They have not yet committed all of their forces. We have committed most of ours. We will make them pay dearly, but we will have to abandon these hills by tomorrow night.”
“I agree,” said Larken. “Our final defense will be the plateau and the city walls. Is our retreat strategy ready?”
“Most of it,” said Gahen. “As planned, we’re going to retreat tomorrow night when there’s no moon. We are going to hold back the fastest men until the end. After the most of the others have gotten through the main gates, they’ll have to cross the valley at a dead run. They’ll literally be running for their lives.”
“Hopefully, they’ll have enough of a head-start that they’ll all make it.”
“Hopefully,” said Gahen, but neither really believed it.
* * * * *
The Three Kingdom Alliance did hold for another day, but just barely. Their last counterattack did little more than push the front lines of the Dark Forces half way down the hills. The Alliance’s retreat back up the slopes was just short of a disaster. Only the iron will of the Alliance Warders kept their lines intact. By nightfall, the Alliance forces were barely holding onto the hilltops. The soldiers watched glumly as the Dark Forces retreated into their camps for the night.
After the evening meal and Healing sessions, the retreat across the valley began. Armor and weapons were wrapped in cloth to prevent any accidental clanging of metal. The retreat began with small groups from each area silently melting from the hilltops and walking carefully across the valley to climb the road leading to the plateau to Strollie. The road was the only route used since the slopes were much steeper on the Strollie side of the valley than they were on the side that they were abandoning. In places, the slopes led to sheer walls of stone that would be impassible if defended from above. That did, however, leave several areas that had to be defended. Fortunately, the combined areas to be defended were smaller than the hilltops they had successfully defended for three days.
Soon, the valley looked like a swarm of shadows from the hilltops above. Those that stayed on the hilltops took special pains to keep torches lit and moving in a pattern they hoped would appear normal from the enemy camps. Larken and Gahen initially had planned to be in the last group to leave but were convinced otherwise by their commanders and sub-commanders. They stood on the top of the wall around Strollie quietly talking while they watched the evacuation of their battlements.
“It looks as if we’re going to get away with this,” said Gahen.
“We’re about due for some dumb luck,” said Larken.
“We’ve had plenty of luck,” returned Gahen. “By all accounts, we should not have been able to survive the destruction of Talent. That alone should have finished us. I think we’ve been plenty lucky.”
“Or, maybe, it’s not luck,” mused Larken. “Have you ever wondered if the Source was more than just a source of Talent? What if he, or it, has been working through all of this somehow to help us? Ever wonder about that?”
“Only every night before I fall asleep,” said Gahen. “I don’t think that we can claim the glory if we get out of this alive. I think that we’re only a small piece of a bigger plan.”
“I don’t want the glory,” said Larken. “I just want to go home and forget all about this.”
“You and every other person around here,” said Gahen. “It’s amazing how a was can make you appreciate all the little things at home.”
Finally, it was time for the last group to go. Placing the torches on poles that would hopefully give the appearance of an occupied camp, the final group stripped down to tight-fitting black clothes, moccasins, and a blackened shield to cover their backs. Then, at a silent signal, they all began to jog down the slopes toward the valley. All of them were handpicked for their endurance and speed. However, all found themselves fighting the panic that insisted that they would be discovered and attacked at any moment. Lacking any weapons with which to fight, their only hope was speed, silence, and secrecy. They ran with a desperation that empowered their muscles but sapped their strength.
The last of the Warders were almost to the top of the Strollie road before shouts were heard from their abandoned camps. Miraculously, the evacuation had been completed without being discovered. As the last of the Warders ran through the gates at the top of the road, they were met with cheers and embraces. All were wrapped with cloaks, given a mug of mulled wine, and led away by Healers.
After a few moments of celebration, Gahen and Larken met with the other commanders and sub-commanders to make the final adjustments to their defenses. As Larken had expected, only minor details remained to be worked out for the preparations to be complete. He, however, was interrupted in his discussions by Melona, who quite firmly told everyone that Larken was excused for the night and led him away.
After she had watched Larken being Healed by one of the specially trained Healers that were assigned to Larken, Melona informed him that, since he had not slept in three days, he was going to bed. Larken protested that he was too t
ense to sleep and that lying awake for the few remaining hours of the night was a foolish waste of time. Melona promised him that he only had to lie down for ten minutes and that, if he were not asleep by that time, he could return to his planning. Larken lay down on his cot with a smirk, cocked one sarcastic eyebrow at Melona, and promptly fell into a deep sleep.
* * * * *
When Larken awoke, the first thing he noticed was that it was daylight. The second was that sounds of battle were clear evidence that the morning’s attack had already begun. A moment of confusion gave way to a surge of panic. The panic was not caused by any belief that the defenses had failed. Larken was too familiar with the defense lines and plans to believe that. The panic was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had failed his duties—that he had slept the morning away and had not shown up when his troops had needed him.
Larken threw off his covers and swung his legs off the cot. At that precise second, Melona came through the tent flaps with a tray of coffee and bread.
“Good,” she said. “You’re right on time. I won’t have to wake you.”
“What do you mean, ‘Right on time’? It sounds like I’m late.”
“Not at all,” Melona said. “Your commanders all agreed that you should sleep six hours so that you’d be fresh when they needed you the most. Even your Talent can’t make up for the strain that you’ve been under lately. Everyone agreed that you needed the extra sleep.”
“Agreed with whom?” asked Larken. “Agreed with you? I’m very familiar with your powers of persuasion. How many of ‘my commanders,’ as you call them, did you have to reduce to tears to get them to agree?”
“Larken!” complained Melona, assuming a hurt, innocent look. “Why would you ever say such a thing? How could I possibly threaten your commanders?”
This was too much for Larken. Holding his sides, he gave himself over to spasms of laughter. He laughed until tears were rolling from his eyes and he was short of breath. After watching for a few moments, Melona left the tent with a broad smile. She exhaled her tension as she exited, sure now that Larken was back to normal. The truth was that she and the commanders had had many conversations about Larken in the last few days as they watched him drive himself at a harder pace than they believed he could sustain. They had also watched as his mood darkened. Catching the watchful eye of Dionne, who had been tasked with watching over Larken, she smiled and nodded. Dionne returned the smile and the nod.
After Larken had recovered from his laughter, he made a quick breakfast of the coffee and bread. Upon reflection, he concluded that his sleeping was probably the best thing that could have happened. He was sure, however, that Melona had done a little more than just gentle persuasion to buy him the rest. In fact, he wondered if Melona had used some Healer trickery to force him into sleep. He finally decided that she probably had, but that she was completely justified in doing so. Still, it gave him pause to wonder if others besides Melona had found a way around his shields. He made a mental note to query Melona on that subject. It would be dangerous to the Alliance if he had left a gap in his shields.
Musing to himself that help and inspiration come from unlikely sources—in this case, his own wife might have provided him with an early warning of a gap in his shields—he emerged from the tent ready for the day ahead.
Doron joined him as soon as he emerged and informed him that the other leaders were waiting for him in one of the command tents near the defensive lines. Doron briefed Larken as they strode toward the meeting. His fears, he found, were unjustified. Everyone was relieved to hear that he had been resting. He was astounded to hear that his resting had done wonders for the general morale of the troops. It seemed to be the prevalent opinion that, if Larken were resting, the first crisis had passed. Larken promised himself to remember that lesson in the future.
After finding the commanders, Larken was quickly updated on the latest developments. The morning’s attack had been more of a probe than a serious onslaught. The Dark Forces had not committed the majority of their troops, and these had fallen back after a token offensive. The newer three kingdoms recruits had started celebrating a great victory, but the more experienced warriors had quickly quashed that idea, informing the new recruits that their so-called victory had been nothing more than rebuffing a small fact-finding probe by the enemy. Now the Three Kingdoms Forces were repelling frequent probes by the Dark Forces, but there was no real danger.
“We suspect,” concluded Estron, “that the probes will continue for a day or two until they know enough about our defenses to find the weak spots. Then they will mount the real offensive.”
“And where are the weak spots?” asked Larken.
“Where we knew they would be,” answered Soran. “They don’t have a chance to take this plateau directly, but if they were to follow the Traveler’s Road southward for two days, they could come bypass Strollie and gain an easy entry to the rest of Norland and Shropanshire.”
“But,” said Larken, “we would have an open shot at their rear. Plus, our troops are positioned along the plateau to make progress along the valley pretty near impossible. The archers alone could wipe out most of their troops where the valley narrows.”
“What about the other side of the valley?” asked Doron. “I’m not familiar with these northern lands.”
“That’s a no go,” said Soran. “East of the valley are mountains that get higher and more rugged the further south you go. East of the mountains is desert, but not just desert. It’s all broken up with ravines, washes, and ridges. No way to get an army through it. No, they either go through the valley or take Strollie head-on, and my guess is that they’ll opt for the head-on approach. I don’t think that the Dark One is all that upset about losing men.”
“I think you’re right,” said Larken. “Our best guess is that we can hold on to the plateau, but the losing side is usually the one that underestimates their opponent. Let’s go over the defenses again. I don’t want any mistakes.”
* * * * *
Later that day, Melona found Larken in conference with Estron and Gahen. From the way Larken looked, Melona could tell that he was unhappy.
“More bad news?” she asked.
“The worst,” answered Larken. “We were counting on reinforcements from King Andreas and from Grealand. We’ve just got word that there have been attacks on both Grealand and Shropanshire from the east.”
“From the desert?” asked Melona.
“From the desert,” affirmed Estron.
“How bad?” asked Melona.
“Not bad enough to overrun the kingdoms,” said Gahen. “But bad enough to keep the reinforcements committed at home.”
“How bad is that?” asked Melona. “Do we need the reinforcements?”
“Oh, yeah,” said Larken. “Our whole plan relied on those reinforcements. We’re seriously outnumbered without them.”
“But we’re in such a strong position,” said Melona.
“True, my lady,” said Estron. “But the strongest of positions can be worn down with enough men and time, and the Dark Forces seem to have both. They’ve added reinforcements daily.”
“Is it hopeless, then?” asked Melona.
“It’s never hopeless,” answered Larken. “But let’s get the Healers leadership together with the commanders early tomorrow. Maybe I can even get Algar to attend if the Healers will take an oath not to mind-read.”
“In this case, they will,” said Melona. “I’ll personally guarantee it.”
Chapter 23 The Final Battle
“OK,” said Gahen, raising his hand to cut off the debate. “Everyone here is frustrated, scared, and tired. Now, if we can get back into focus, we might come up with something useful.”
The meeting was being held in Strollie’s town hall for security and privacy. Larken had chosen Gahen to lead the meeting of Healer, Warder, and Elven leadership because Gahen had a solid reputation of fairness and directness. Gahen had protested that he had never been good
at politics, but Larken had overruled him by saying that a military crisis wasn’t the proper time for politics. Gahen had done a fair job of leading the discussion of the situation, but no one had been able to propose a plan that had the slightest chance of victory over the Dark Forces. There were just too many enemies and too few resources.
Now tempers were barely being restrained, and sarcasm and veiled recriminations were being thrown around the room. Gahen was feeling very much out of control of the meeting and very frustrated himself. For the first time in a long time, he was feeling overwhelmed. Taking a deep breath, he turned to where Larken was sitting and stretched out his hand in surrender.
“OK, boss,” he said. “What now? We’re not getting anywhere.”
Larken didn’t raise his eyes for a long while, but continued to stare at the floor. If Gahen felt overwhelmed, Larken felt like a failure. Something told him that this was all his fault, that he should have predicted the possibility of a lateral attack on Shropanshire and Grealand. But, he reminded himself that, even with the foresight of the attack, they would be in the exact situation that they were now.
Finally, Larken arose. “Lunch,” he said. “Let’s eat.”
Turning to Algar, he continued, “Algar, I need to talk with you over lunch. I have an idea, but I want to discuss it with you first. Melona and Gahen, would you attend, also?” With that he walked quickly from the room.
When they had retrieved their lunch trays and found a secluded room in which to eat, Gahen asked Larken what he had in mind.
Larken smiled grimly at Gahen. “I honestly couldn’t think of a single plan, alternative, or even idea that is going to make a whit’s difference. But, if we didn’t come up with something, the mood around here would turn sour, and I couldn’t let that happen. So”—he looked around at his lunch partners—“by having this private meeting, we are starting a rumor that we are developing a secret and highly esoteric plan to save the Three Kingdoms. Our friends and allies out there will trust that we’ll emerge with something, and as long as they trust that, they’ll keep the morale up, and the fight will continue.”