"As I imagine you've already guessed, I am Fellbrig of Gilmar, and, as surprising as the news may be to some,"—he fixed Hob with a stare—"I have come to help you."
Hob looked up. "On your own?" he said. "What good is that going to do? The people of Oakhaven are besieged by dozens of Kelsharlan soldiers. Maybe hundreds by now."
The man put two fingers to his mouth and whistled a shrill note. "Of course I haven't come alone."
About twenty men and women stepped up from the hillside and gathered behind Fellbrig. They were clad in greens and browns, with swords at their sides and Gilmarian-style longbows slung across their backs.
She glanced at Hob. This was certainly better than one, but would it be enough?
Ordella scanned their faces. She paused at a pair of eyes she recognized. They belonged to a man with mousy brown hair and a strong chin. She'd never seen his face before, she was sure of it, but there was something about the eyes. He winked at her.
"You're the man I spoke to yesterday," she said. "The man behind the door. What are you doing here?"
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Ordella," he said. "Darved at your service." He performed an elaborate bow, a broad smile plastered across his face, then he tapped the hilt of his sword. "You didn't think I'd pass up the chance to fight some Kelsharlans did you? Besides, I couldn't have you believing I was a coward."
She turned back to Fellbrig.
"How did you know my father?"
"He was under my command. A good man. Brave as they come."
Ordella was about to ask another question, when Fellbrig raised his gloved hand.
"I will answer all of your questions, I promise, but not here, and not now. We have more pressing matters to attend to, have we not?
She nodded.
"So," Felbrig continued, "where exactly in the Border Wood is Oakhaven located?"
Ordella fetched her map from the pack and handed it to the old man. He bent down and unrolled it on the floor. She crouched down at his side and pointed to the tree with the small dot drawn in the middle of it.
"This was Oakhaven," she said. "But the village in the trees is no more. It burned just like all the others." She paused. "The survivors are holed up in the caves to the west. They have enough food and water for weeks, but the Kelsharlans will have dug them out before their supplies run down."
"Then we mustn't linger here." He raised his arm and flicked his fingers. His troops immediately started to file down the hillside.
Fellbrig waited until he was alone with Ordella and Hob. He gestured down the slope.
"All of those men and women have risked much to be here. If they are caught knowingly flouting the King's orders, they may face imprisonment or worse upon their return to the city. They have decided to help because they believe that Gilmarians shouldn't leave Gilmarians to die." He looked at them both in turn. "And I believe that, too."
Fellbrig continued. "I know you were hoping for an army. I could see it in your eyes. But the soldiers I have brought with me were all I could muster at short notice without drawing unwanted attention. I don't know what we'll come upon when we get to the village, but you won't find braver, more loyal troops than the ones who have volunteered to help." He stroked his beard. "I just thought you should know."
Ordella and Hob looked at each other.
"We are very grateful to them," Ordella said.
The man nodded.
"As you should be. Now, gather your things and meet us at the foot of the hill, and be quick about it. There are Gilmarians to save."
Thirty-Three
Ordella lay down in the undergrowth, her stomach flat against the forest floor. The earthy smell of moss and decaying leaves filled her nose, and the mulch on the ground had started to soak her breeches, chilling her skin. Using her arms and legs, she slithered over to the ridge where Fellbrig and Hob were already positioned. From here, on the opposite side of the valley from where she and Hob had observed the initial attack on Oakhaven, they had a perfect view of the whole site.
The chaos of last week's battlefield had been replaced with an orderly calm. The cave mouth was still sealed by a huge pile of boulders and rocks, but now a line of Kelsharlan soldiers was busily removing the debris with shovels, picks, and sledgehammers. A ring of crossbowmen surrounded the workers, some facing the valley sides and others training their weapons on the cave mouth, presumably expecting those trapped inside to mount an attack as soon as the seal was breached.
Ordella turned her attention to the village itself. A dozen or more sanctuary oaks had been felled, leaving behind only their broad stumps and a huge pile of charred branches and hunks of wood by the edge of the clearing. Tents had been erected over Oakhaven's main path, and groups of soldiers were gathered outside them, sitting in circles around cook fires or tending to their equipment. Ordella chewed her lip. It didn't look like the Kelsharlans were planning on leaving anytime soon.
She craned her neck to peer towards the east of the village. More tents were visible, sitting on patches of forest that had been cleared of its underbrush. The woven withe walls of the dining hall had remained intact, but instead of surrounding a fire pit, they now housed a large marquee, striped in the deep green and purple of Kelsharla. Soldiers stood guard on either side of the entrance archway.
Taking her time, she scanned the edges of the camp and the valley sides. A series of sentries had been posted, most armed with crossbows, and she guessed there had to be more out there than she'd been able to spot.
It was hard to estimate the size of the entire force. She'd counted more than thirty, but who could say how many more soldiers were in the tents or were away from the camp. Could it be as many as fifty, or one hundred? Ordella breathed in. At best, they'd be outnumbered two to one.
Ordella let her eyes drift. The valley was almost unrecognizable from the scene of chaos she'd fled just days before, yet the devastation that had been wreaked upon Oakhaven would be carved into her mind forever. The flaming trees, the cries of those fighting for their lives, and the bodies, bloodied and broken, strewn across the ground.
Ordella turned her head. Where were the bodies? What had the Kelsharlans done with them?
Apart from the scorched earth around the trees, there was no sign of a fire, so they hadn't burnt them on a funeral pyre, and in no place was the soil freshly turned. So they hadn't buried them either. She flicked strands of hair away from her face. Perhaps they'd moved them to a different place and disposed of the dead there? But why go to the trouble? The majority of the fallen were villagers from Oakhaven. Why remove the corpses of your enemies, when you could get rid of them close to where they lay?
Fellbrig signaled that they should return to the others. Without talking, they shuffled backward, away from the ridge. The old man eased himself up, and Ordella and Hob followed his lead.
He turned to face them.
"Apart from the cave mouth itself," he said, "is there any other way in or out?"
Hob answered before Ordella could respond.
"There's a passageway. It leads to the east and breaks the surface near to the bottom of the slope on this side." Hob pointed into the forest in the direction of the ridge. "Down there somewhere. Where there's a group of large, flat rocks."
"But it's small," Ordella said. "Barely big enough for a man, and it's much easier to travel down the tunnel towards the caves than it is to go the other way."
Hob raised his eyebrow.
"Flynn told me it was there when we were in the caves hunting the rotclaws." She smiled. "And I may also have done a little exploring of my own."
Fellbrig stroked his beard. "The tunnel might change things," he said. "Let's head back to the others, and I'll explain the plan."
Ordella and Hob followed Fellbrig deeper into the forest. He stopped by a fallen tree and sat down on it. Ordella looked around. Why are we stopping here?
Fellbrig clapped his hands. "Gather round," he said.
The forest seemed to come alive, a
nd Ordella stumbled back. With dirt-smeared faces and their green and brown outfits, the Gilmarian soldiers almost completely blended into the undergrowth. It was as if the trees themselves had risen up on their roots and stepped towards her.
Fellbrig put his hand on her shoulder and leaned in.
"I told you they were good." He grinned. "The Kelsharlans aren't going to know what hit them."
The camouflaged soldiers sat down on the floor, forming a rough circle around Fellbrig, Ordella, and Hob.
"Right," Fellbrig said. "This is how we're going to proceed." He looked from face to face. "We will attack at first light. Although the enemy has posted sentries, I don't believe they are really anticipating an assault, and we must make the most of this. We will be severely outnumbered. My best conservative estimate puts their number at around sixty."
Ordella glanced at the soldiers' faces. She was expecting to witness signs of nervousness or panic, but there was nothing. For the most part, their expressions didn't change at all.
She caught Darved's eye, and he smiled.
“All the more to go round," he said. "I'd hate for this to be a wasted journey."
Fellbrig stared at him, and the smile departed the soldier's lips.
"However, the element of surprise will only take us so far. As soon as the enemy engage us, their greater numbers will be almost impossible to overcome."
He turned to Darved as if daring him to comment. The soldier kept quiet.
"Fortunately, we have a reserve force to call on."
Ordella furrowed her brow.
"We do? Where?" she said. "Who?"
"Oakhaven's survivors, of course," Fellbrig said.
"But they're stuck in a cave. That's the whole problem. That's why you're here."
Fellbrig raised his hand. "Ordella, how many made it to the caves who are capable of wielding a weapon?"
She chewed her lip. "It's hard to say. There was so much smoke. Maybe twenty, perhaps more. All of the people of Oakhaven can fire a bow."
She turned to Hob and he nodded in agreement.
"And if Jereth survived, he counts for a lot more than one," he added.
"And the cave is well-stocked. So they wouldn't be short of arrows," she said. "But isn't this all a bit irrelevant? As I've told you, there are only two ways out of the cave. The main entrance, which is sealed, and the eastern tunnel, which is tiny. With the sentries the Kelsharlan's have posted, it will be next to impossible for a man to crawl out unseen."
"If you will allow me to finish, Ordella, I will explain how we can surmount the problems you have raised."
"Sorry.” She looked down to avoid his gaze.
"I do not believe we will be able to defeat the Kelsharlans without the help of those in the caves, so our first task will be to draw the sentries away from their positions. In order to do this, we will divide our group in half."
He turned to Darved.
"You will take Lukin, Marden, Pike, Denwig, Shepp, Ambell, Sutter, Dunning and Nallia and position yourself on the slope on the other side of the valley. Spread yourselves out. Once you are set, signal to us, but do not start to fire until you hear our signal in return. The rest of us will conceal ourselves on the slope down there." He pointed into the forest. "If we coordinate our attack, the Kelsharlans will believe they are being attacked by more than twenty-one soldiers."
"Twenty-three," Ordella said. "There are twenty-three of us. Hob and I can both fight."
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a smirk on Darved's lips. He put his hand over his mouth and turned away.
"I'm sure you can," Fellbrig said. "And you might have to before the day is out. But to begin with, I need you to complete a crucial task." He scratched his beard. "If all goes according to plan, our attack on the camp should create such commotion that the sentries at the edges of the clearing will be drawn away from their posts. When this happens, you two must locate the cave's back entrance, push yourselves through and tell those inside what is going on."
He thumped the base of his fist against the palm of his other hand.
"Get them armed, and get them out," he said. "Either back through the tunnel or out of the main entrance if it's close to being breached. To stand any chance of winning today, we'll need every villager who can hold a bow or wield a sword to join the fight as soon as possible."
Ordella nodded. It wouldn't be hard to find volunteers.
Fellbrig turned back to the group. "Make every arrow count," he said, "and when they are spent, and your swords are drawn, stay together. Attack as a group, and watch each other's backs."
He jumped up from the log.
"Darved, take your group and get to your positions. You have an hour or so of walking ahead of you. We'll be waiting for your signal."
Darved and the nine soldiers Fellbrig had named stood up, picked up their bows, fastened their sword belts and quivers, and filed past Ordella and the others.
"Good luck," Fellbrig said. "We'll see you in the middle."
He addressed those who remained. "We'll attack in the early morning, so try to get some sleep. You'll need all of your strength and your wits about you tomorrow."
Thirty-Four
Hidden in the undergrowth next to Hob, Ordella peered down at the Kelsharlan camp through the gaps in the fronds of bracken. It seemed quiet compared to how it had been yesterday. Nobody was working at the cave mouth and, apart from the sentries dotted around the perimeter, it looked like the soldiers were still asleep in their tents.
She glanced to her right. About twenty paces away, Fellbrig was crouched behind a patch of nettles, his powerful longbow propped by his side. He had an arrow in his hand and was winding a strip of cloth around its head. In front of him, clumped together like a stand of bullrushes, he'd planted about a dozen other arrows head first into the ground.
To the old man's right, spread out along the slope, were ten other Gilmarian soldiers. Ordella couldn't see them, but she knew they were there, concealed, with arrows nocked, waiting for their leader to give the signal.
Ordella wished she had a bow in her hand and a quiver full of arrows at her side, but Fellbrig had told her to hide them higher up the slope. He thought they would slow her passage down the tunnel. She touched the sheathed knife at her belt. He was probably right, but she didn't fancy her chances of overcoming any Kelsharlans without her bow.
On the other side of the camp, somewhere on the opposite ridge, Darved and his troops were in position. Ordella squinted and raised her hand against the glare from the morning sun, but she couldn't make them out. Hopefully, the Kelsharlans wouldn't spot them, either.
Everything was set. She looked at Hob and nodded. He reached over and squeezed her hand. His fingers were trembling, but his face was a picture of determination. She breathed in. Her heart thumped in her chest. Any moment now.
Fellbrig had finished preparing his arrow and placed it to his side.
A hooting noise, like the distant call of a wood pigeon, drifted across the valley from the far ridge. Fellbrig tilted his head in the direction of the sound and smiled.
Ordella's pulse quickened. The others were ready.
Fellbrig stroked his beard. Then, cupping his fingers together with his thumbs side by side on top, he brought his hands to his lips and blew.
The sound was much louder than Ordella had been expecting, and she was in no doubt that it would carry to all of the ears that needed to hear it.
With the cloth wrapped arrow across his legs, Fellbrig picked up the flint and steel he'd set down next to him. He struck the chunk of stone against the bar of metal, and a flurry of small sparks flared over the fabric. He did it again, and this time the material, which Ordella guessed had been doused with some sort of oil, burst into flame.
Fellbrig stood up, carefully placed the fire arrow onto his bowstring, pulled it back, and launched it in the direction of the tents.
The blazing missile arced down the hillside, striking the middle of the nearest tent. It passed thr
ough the outer wall, leaving a smoldering hole in the material. Shouts rang out from the tent's occupants, and the sides of the structure bulged as people frantically moved around inside. The hole in the canvas grew larger, and flames licked over the tent's roof.
In a matter of moments, the camp was thrown into chaos. Soldiers emerged from the inferno and were immediately struck down in a hail of arrows. One of the men fell backward against his tent, collapsing it into the tent that had been pitched behind. The fire spread.
Darved's group had started to loose their arrows. Soldiers were dashing around by the far side of the camp and diving for cover.
Ordella studied the troops stationed nearest to the cave. To begin with, they'd held their positions, but now, as more arrows from the slopes were finding their targets, they seemed reluctant to remain out in the open. Some of them sought shelter behind a nearby stack of barrels, whereas others headed for a group of soldiers who were frantically trying to form a shield wall.
"Now's your chance," Fellbrig said. His firm voice carried over the hubbub of Kelsharlan curses and screams of pain from the camp below. "Go!"
Keeping their heads low, Ordella and Hob raced down the valley's side. They paused about halfway down, and Ordella glanced back towards the tents. Several were now aflame, but the Kelshalans seemed to have overcome their initial surprise, and troops were now mustering in the center. Crossbowmen had even started to return fire, and the shield wall had grown larger.
Ordella turned back to the caves. She had to focus on what was in front of her, and, at least for the moment, the coast was clear.
"Let's move," she said to Hob.
They pushed through the undergrowth and stepped onto the broad shelved rocks that ran up the left side of the cave mouth. Ordella spotted the outcrop of rock that both marked and obscured the cave's back entrance. They hustled towards it.
The opening gaped in front of them. Hob got down onto his hands and knees and peered in. Ordella surveyed the battlefield. Thankfully, it didn't look like they'd been noticed by any of the Kelsharlans. She turned back to Hob.
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