Chi-Ta smiled and nodded, “The plan is good. Lito-Bi, Stekka-Ha, and Ki-Falsa are my three finest warriors. They will be among the two hundred joining you in the forest, as will I.”
“I will be glad to have you,” he replied with a shallow nod. Then he turned his attention back to Slurg and said, “Once the sun has reached its highest point, pull back enough of your soldiers to move our camp. I expect to have a position to hold by nightfall.”
Slurg nodded his agreement.
Bok quickly scanned the room with his eyes and said, “Now go. Prepare your warriors for battle. Tomorrow we turn the tide and begin the push toward Havenstahl.”
chapter 28
divided
Darkness had long settled into the clearing before Fort Maomnosett when Kantiim entered Daritus’s tent to find him troubling over his map. He followed the general’s gaze down toward it to see that some of the tokens had been moved about to different locations. The wooden, fallon token representing Glord’s men had been moved far to the east of the prang coin depicting Havenstahl. A green, painted fallon figurine had taken its place. The dragon figure had been moved closer to the northern point of Biggon’s Bay, and the simple wooden fallon that had been sitting on the coin representing the fort had been replaced with a figurine of a fallon painted blue. There were also four new figurines on the map. One of them sat beside the blue fallon, another sat beside the green fallon, and the other two sat at opposite sides of the clearing.
“You have been busy painting and planning I see,” Kantiim noted.
Daritus glanced up and replied offhandedly, “Hmm, yes I have.”
Kantiim continued as he made a swirling motion with his hand toward the map, “What is all of this? Your plan has obviously changed.”
Daritus took a deep breath, rubbed his eyes, and looked up at Kantiim. “I received word from Alhouim. Just shy of a week ago I sent Duvel to blow the great horn. Thankfully, Alhouim answered. Her army is on the march and should arrive by mid-day tomorrow. Her generals are represented on the map by the four bears.”
“I see,” Kantiim nodded as he stroked his chin and moved closer to the map. “What of Glord’s fallon? Why have you moved it so far from the fight?”
“For many reasons,” Daritus sighed. “First, Leisha, my wife, is gathering as many of the people we fight for as will join her to flee Havenstahl for Druindahl. The road to Druindahl is long and treacherous, and the palace guard numbers too few to adequately protect them. Glord has already been given orders to pull back from the front and escort our people along that dangerous path. I expect his force should arrive there in three days if they march with all the hours of sun. Aside from that need, there is also the fact that after one week of battle he only commands around two thousand swords; swords wielded by men who have faced down nightmares from sun up until sun down for seven full days. We need fresh men at the front.”
“What of my fallon? Why have you have painted it blue?” Kantiim asked.
“You command fifty thousand swords, my friend. Half of them will remain here at the fort while the other half will move to the front and take up Glord’s position,” Daritus patted Kantiim’s shoulder as he finished.
“The finest soldiers on Ouloos,” Kantiim’s gaze moved to the back of the tent, but his mind continued far beyond that.
“Do you trust any of your lieutenants to carry your standard to the front and lead your men in your stead?”
Kantiim snapped to attention, “What? I do not send my men into battle. I lead them there. Some men can lead from behind. I cannot.”
Daritus moved around the table until he was directly in front of Kantiim. Then he grasped both of his shoulders and said, “Old friend, none could ever doubt the duty you feel to your men and the city you ride for. I know my request is challenging. Do you think I do not ache standing idle in this tent, gazing at a map while my men die at the hands of monsters? A bit of me dies with every update I get from the front, but someone has to lead this effort. Your mind is far more valuable than your might in this struggle. I need you here to strategize with me. My plan has changed and it will continue to change. You must help me shape our effort.”
Kantiim sighed, turned away from Daritus, and walked to the other side of the tent. The few moments he stood staring at the wall seemed far longer. Finally, he turned back to Daritus and said quietly, “I know what you say is true, my brother, and I will oblige. You are the true leader of all the men fighting and dying to protect Havenstahl, including me. I will stand by your side, old friend, but I will take no joy from my position.” He paused and then added with a weak smile, “I fear you will not find me to be very good company knowing my men are at the front minus my sword.”
“Of that I am sure,” Daritus said as he crossed the room and patted his finest general on the back. “That being said, I am fairly certain you will not be without them for long.”
“What do you mean?”
“Word from the Dragon’s Flame is, though the giants have yet to enter the battle outright, they have not sat idle.”
“Well, let us have it. What have they been about?”
“That is what I have been troubling over,” Daritus stroked his chin. “The messenger described siege weapons, massive siege weapons, like nothing I have ever heard of.”
Kantiim shrugged, “If they are so massive, how do they plan to get them within range to pose a threat?”
“That is a puzzle,” Daritus gazed up at the ceiling. “Based on the description I received, these weapons would be far too large to transport down the trail. On top of that, they seem to lack any tools for battering walls and doors, or any mechanism for launching projectiles. They have giant, circular blades mounted to them so they could be used to literally cut our men down. It just does not make sense that they would be employed that way. They do have wheels for moving, but boasting such a massive size they would not be maneuverable. It would be far too easy to outflank and disable them. Giants are big and savage, but they are far from stupid.”
Kantiim leaned his head back and shifted his stance. “No, they are not stupid at all,” he replied. After a few moments of contemplation he added, “Perhaps they plan to remedy the very obstacle rendering those weapons so useless on our battlefield.”
“That idea had crossed my mind,” Daritus agreed. “They mean to mow down the forest.”
“That should certainly change our strategy,” Kantiim’s expression turned grim. “Did the Dragon’s Flame seek to frustrate their efforts at building these weapons?”
Daritus raised his hands, palms up, and replied, “Of course they did. Five more flames were extinguished in the effort. There were at least two giants guarding them at all times. Maelich is the only man, living or passed on, that I know to have slain a giant, and he is special.”
“He is,” Kantiim agreed. “He is also sorely missed on this battlefield. If he were among us, there would be no battle to fight.”
“True,” Daritus nodded. “Lamenting Maelich’s absence will not help us achieve victory over our enemies though. How do we answer these machines if they serve the purpose we believe they serve?
Kantiim walked back over to the table and picked up the green painted fallon. Then he tapped it several times against the map as he scanned it. His eyes squinted, creasing up his forehead as his hair dangled about his face. He brushed it away several times before swirling it up and tying it off behind his head. His eyes closed as he bowed his head and began tapping the green fallon against the map again.
Daritus watched him for a few moments before asking, “Where is your mind taking you?”
Kantiim kept his head bowed but looked up toward his general and replied, “If those weapons are meant to cut down the forest, they will cut a wide path for Bok’s army to outflank us on the trail. That is, if we continue to fight in the same fashion we have been. Yet, if we move into the trees, our men will be cut down along with them.”
“Yes, neither of those options is appealing.”
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“Here,” Kantiim stopped tapping and finally placed the green fallon figurine on the map at the northern point of Biggon’s Bay. “I will send twenty-five thousand of my best to the north point of Biggon’s Bay with Ymanchol. We will count on Ygraml’s horses to hold the trail for as long as they can.”
“The path to the northern point is narrow,” Daritus interrupted. “It will take several days to get a force that size there.”
“Yes it will,” Kantiim agreed. “Meanwhile, Ygraml will give ground on the trail, more so if those weapons serve the purpose we believe they do. However, how quickly do you think even massive machines armed with gigantic blades can cut down those mighty, old oaks? Add to that the time it will take to clear the trees they cut down, and Bok’s force will take far longer to make this clearing than my men will take to make Biggon’s Bay. From there, it will be a short jaunt to take Bok’s monsters from behind.”
The essence of a smile slipped onto Daritus’s face, and he began nodding before Kantiim had finished. “That is why you will remain here with me. I had completely forgotten about the northern pass to Biggon’s Bay. We can outflank them and separate the strength of their force. Ygraml will give up ground on the trail slowly and the Dragon’s Flame can frustrate the efforts of our enemies with their arrows.”
“I will ready my men. They will march out before dawn,” Kantiim bowed and left the tent.
Daritus watched him go. Then he looked up to the ceiling, scratched his head, and sighed. A new king and a dead king were missing. One of them could end this war with a whisper of his breath but remained damnably absent as his mother led the people in his stead. Packing them up and hurrying them off, yanking them from their lives, and fleeing like beasts seeking shelter from the coming storm. The proud fallon that had stood tall as the one beacon of hope in a world of violence and fear had been reduced to a quivering rodent, fleeing in the face of danger. Once Maelich had destroyed Kallum and opened people’s eyes to the true nature of the nurturing mother, they were able to see the real terrors of this world, terrors that barely entered their planes of reality safe within the mighty walls of Havenstahl. The Dragon, the hated symbol that was at once a source of mind numbing fear and at the same time a source of the most violent anger and hatred, became a symbol for peace and love and hope. Sadly, for these people, hatred and anger had proven far more adequate in strengthening resolve than peace, hope, or love ever could.
The map spread out upon the table mocked him. The tokens he had placed on it jeered at him. He was fighting a war the people he led could not win. Most of them had only heard stories about the monsters they fought against; nightmares existing only in the imagination; stories used to frighten and impress your comrades around the fire. Those nightmares had been unleashed by an angry god provoked by an absent savior, and they had leapt from the realm of imagination onto the shores of the greatest city of men. The men Daritus led, men born of the house of Havenstahl as well as those that had followed the lad of the Lake from Druindahl, would stand tall before those nightmares, even with fear pumping coldly through their veins. They would ultimately fall though. No matter how Daritus worked it over in his mind, they could not hold at this fort and Havenstahl would be overrun.
The mighty fallon had held at the beach for seven full days, but so many had fallen. In seven more that number would double. Add seven more to that, and it would double again. That would continue until there were none left to defend the house of Havenstahl. Leisha would flee with the people. They would be safe in Druindahl, close to the Dragon, close to the source, the Great Mother. Great Brerto’s nightmares would not dare venture that close to the Dragons again, lest they draw the fury of mighty Moshat and Kaldumahn. They would have Havenstahl though, and Daritus knew there was nothing he could do about it. He would lead his men with victory as the goal. Though he didn’t really believe it could be achieved. The best they could hope for was to hold off the pummeling wave long enough to let the people escape to safety before the walls came crumbling down.
chapter 29
flight
A line of wagons stretched from the front of the palace at Havenstahl nearly halfway down the hill into the great valley. Throngs of people hurried about packing up their belongings and fretting over what essentials they may have been forgetting. Only Coeptus knew when they may see their homes again. Even with the grand parade of village folk packing up their entire lives into rickety wagons, a larger number ignored the warning of the coming storm. The greatest army on Ouloos stood before the nightmares marching against Havenstahl. What beast could stomp so loud and roar so mightily as to cause a trembling in the great fallon? Surely none could make good on a boast so brazenly arrogant. Havenstahl had faced down terrible hordes of nightmares since her beginnings and brought peace and justice to the land. This threat would be no different than any other. The monsters would be turned away or skewered on the swords of mighty men. At least that was the sentiment of those who chose to ignore the warnings of Leisha and the soldiers sent from the front.
Outside the palace gates, Leisha readied her horse. Freedom was a wild mare with a blazing white coat speckled with black flecks. Three summers prior she had been brought into the stable wild from the prairie. No man could tame her, and not one of the stable hands could control her. After three weeks of trying to break her, the horse handlers were ready to give up and turn her over to the kitchen to be slaughtered for food. Had Leisha not laid eyes upon her and immediately fell in love with her free spirit, the wild mare would have perished. The great queen of Druindahl, mistress of the Lake, and mother of gods, approached the wild horse with her hands out at her sides singing a sweet song. The horse reared back kicking at the air and threatening to strike. However, when Leisha made eye contact with her, the fury fled. The horse bowed before the queen and submitted. Leisha named the beauty Freedom and after a few weeks was able to saddle and bridle the magnificent animal.
Perrin approached atop a brown stallion with a great white patch on his chest. His name was Trailfoot and he was custom fit to his rider by Talhomme. Perrin held her head high as she rode showing her face to the sun. One night of tears was all she gave to the burns on her face. That night after beholding what her son’s fire had done to her she decided she would not try hiding her deformity. Those burns were all she had left of Geillan, and she would wear them proudly; a badge she earned defending the life of her child. She gave Leisha a smile and said, “I be ready for the trail.”
Leisha eyes closed gently as she shook her head, “What on Ouloos are you doing on that horse? You have never been a rider.”
Since she faced down the dead-eyed men, Perrin’s voice had achieved an authority it had not carried prior to the event, “I ain’t never been a fighter neither. Yet here I be sitting alive after facing down those dead-eyed men what killed four of our soldiers and both of me parents.”
Leisha sighed, “You should be in a carriage with Meelah. You are still weak from the attack and your wounds still require care.”
Perrin was undaunted, “Me wounds be me own concern. I won’t be hiding out when others be dying for me no more. I ain’t nobody’s damsel no more.”
Before Leisha could reply, Glord walked up and interjected, “Neither of ye ought be out riding along the caravan. Ye be finding a carriage and staying hid. That trail to Druindahl be a treacherous one.”
“Ah, Glord,” Leisha smiled at the old general, “you have been a faithful protector of Havenstahl since you could call yourself a man. Had you ridden under my banner, you would understand how wasteful your words are right at this moment.”
“Please, me lady,” Glord’s tone was far softer than his battle-hardened face, “ye know we can’t be protecting ye properly if ye be out galloping alongside them wagons instead of sitting comfortably in one.”
Leisha smiled, “I appreciate your effort in softening your tone in my presence, and I also appreciate how furious you will be with me when I tell you again that I will not be hiding away i
n a carriage. The people in this caravan are fleeing from their homes in fear of the monsters beating at our door. I am the mother of the king of the people of Havenstahl, and the people that followed me from Druindahl still see me as their queen. I will not hide in fear. They need someone to lead them. In my son’s absence, I will adopt the people of Havenstahl as my own. Perhaps I can be a small beacon of hope.”
Glord bowed and shook his head, “And what if ye be killed along this trail, me lady? How much hope be they having then?”
Leisha patted the old general on the shoulder and said, “I have faith in you, Glord. I am unafraid.”
“Wish I could be saying the same, me lady,” Glord mumbled.
“And I be riding at your side, Leisha,” Perrin finally interjected.
“Perrin, please…” Leisha began but the young queen cut her off.
“Ye be saying much about being a queen to your people and spreading hope and all else with all of your fancy words. Well I be the queen of these people. Me husband be their king, and I be their queen. And ye’d been right when ye said I’d be stronger for the pain, because there ain’t none in this land that I be fearing. I won’t be needing no men with swords and armor to be protecting me none either. I be keeping meself alive until I be finding me son.” Perrin’s lower lip slowly stopped trembling as she collected herself, turned her attention to Glord, and said, “All that be going be loaded up, general. Call the order to get this caravan moving.”
“Highness, the scouts ain’t returned yet,” Glord complained calmly.
“And the sun be steady on the rise,” Perrin countered. “I gave ye an order, general. Be making it so.”
Glord bowed, scowled, shook his head, turned, and shouted, “Fallon, move out.”
The command was echoed all up and down the ranks of soldiers lined up on either side of the caravan. Thousands of carriages churned to life as the horses pulling them were urged on by their drivers. Many men walked in and around the carts. They were armed with swords, spears, or rude farming equipment that would possibly never see the field again. There were few eyes that didn’t look back upon the great city of the north as the sad caravan slowly crawled away from the mightiest stronghold of men.
Kallum's Fury (Lake of Dragons Book 2) Page 20