Forging Destiny

by Marc Alan Edelheit

  “You are correct.” Karach touched the map again. Someone had drawn a line across where Tovak supposed the wall was reputed to be. “Dagon’s boys have confirmed the enemy is occupying it, which is why all three of you are here.”

  “Do we know how many hold it?” Greng asked.

  “At least two hundred,” Dagon said. “It is a formidable position. A few hundred more would make the wall almost impregnable.”

  “We are going to assault and overcome it.” Karach paused and looked at the three officers. “We’re only three days’ hard march away.” The warchief looked from Dagon to Greng, then to Struugar. “Under command of Dagon, elements of the Baelix Guard—primarily Struugar’s skirmishers, Fifth Company, and Second Pioneers—will move up into the highlands and work their way around and behind the wall. Struugar, you and your strikers will be remaining behind with the warband.”

  “I don’t like that, sir,” Struugar said. “I’d prefer to go with my boys.”

  “I know,” Karach said. “However, I need you here. You have more experience than most of my officers do storming a defended wall. You will be personally commanding the assault force.”

  “I can’t say I am happy about it, sir,” Struugar said, “but I understand.”

  “Good,” Karach said. “After the siege of Adorana, you have proven your worth when it comes to assaults on fortified positions.”

  “Yes, sir,” Struugar said.

  Karach turned back to the other two officers.

  “As the warband moves into position and makes the assault,” Karach said, “Dagon, Greng, your mission will be to keep the enemy from reinforcing the wall. If there is an opportunity, you are to take the wall from the other side. However, your primary task will be to keep the enemy from reinforcing their hold on the wall. I cannot stress that enough.”

  “We won’t be able to hold long if that enemy army turns up in the valley,” Greng said, “or if the bastards have ready reinforcements available.”

  “Once the warband goes into action, you only need to hold, to delay, for a couple of hours,” Karach said. “We will attack before dawn on the third day. I have no doubt the might of the warband can overcome it, but I would like to limit our casualties.”

  Karach paused once again, glancing down at the map. “The wall and entrance to the valley act as a chokepoint. Once beyond the pass, we’ll be into the valley proper. If the enemy is there in force, we will engage them and take the fight forward. If not, we will clear the valley and find the fortress. That is the mission. Once we do that, and determine the road is there, the Thane will reinforce us.”

  The officers were grim-faced when Karach looked up.

  “I know I am asking a lot,” Karach said. “The position you will be in is a dangerous one. If I thought I could get away with sending a larger force through the highlands, and around behind the enemy wall, I would. However, greater numbers would increase the risk of detection and discovery. No. We cannot have that. A smaller force is the only way. Should the enemy reinforce the wall, that will translate into blood we cannot afford to spend. I am counting on you.”

  “We’ll get the job done, sir,” Greng said.

  “Risk a few,” Struugar said, “for a greater reward.”

  “That is correct.” Karach hesitated. “Your boys, Struugar, have been through a tough time of it. I would not be asking this of them if the Baelix were not some of my best. Your skirmishers and Dagon’s scouts are suited for this kind of irregular warfare. Greng’s boys will provide the muscle.” Karach paused again. “I can substitute another group of skirmishers, but I would prefer not to. Is the Baelix Guard up to this?”

  “They are, sir,” Struugar said, without hesitation. “My boys are tough lads. We may be diminished in number, but we have fight left in us. You have my word on that.”

  Tovak felt a sudden thrill of excitement at what they were about to do.

  “Very well.” The warchief looked at all three officers. “Dagon, I expect you to march well before dawn. And Tovak goes with you. Though he may be a Pariah, he’s lucky. I can tell, and I’ll take all the good fortune I can get to see this through.”

  Tovak wondered if he’d heard correctly. Dagon, on the other hand, looked like he’d swallowed something foul.

  “It will be as you command,” Dagon said. “I’ve never failed you and I certainly will not start now.”

  Karach glanced down at the map. Tovak had the sense that the world rested heavily upon the warchief’s shoulders. After a moment, Karach looked up. “It’s all in Thulla’s hands now.”

  Tovak found himself surprised by the warchief’s reference to their ancestral god. Was Karach religious?

  “If you don’t have any further questions,” Karach said, “you are dismissed.”

  There were none. The officers and Tovak came to attention and saluted.

  “In three days, I will see all of you on the other side of the wall,” Karach said.

  Almost as one, the officers turned and stepped out of the tent. Tovak followed and found the rain had stopped. The nearest torches burned and hissed, almost noisily, pushing away the darkness. In the distance, the sounds of the warband’s encampment carried to them.

  Dagon took several steps away from the tent. He stopped and turned to them. “Make sure you bring ropes and climbing gear, in the event it’s needed. We will form up around four horns, outside the camp at the east entrance.”

  With that, Dagon spared Tovak an unhappy look before stepping away into the darkness.

  “Good night,” Greng said, to Struugar. “I will see you after this is all done.”

  Struugar did not reply, but he did nod to the other captain, who turned and left.

  “Sir,” Tovak finally said. “Am I going to be a problem for you?”

  “You mean,” Struugar asked, “is Dagon going to make it a problem?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Struugar let out a frustrated breath. “No. Dagon is a professional soldier. He may dislike you, and for good reason, but there should be no significant trouble from that quarter.”

  Tovak wasn’t so sure about that.

  “I should add that you have caught the eye of Karach, and from what Benthok and Thegdol have told me, you handled yourself quite well out in the field. No matter your history, you are a credit to the company and I am very pleased I took you in.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Tovak replied, and felt a swell of pride.

  “Let’s get back to camp,” Struugar said and started off.

  It was clear to Tovak the captain was not interested in further conversation. He remained silent as they made their way through the warband’s encampment. Finally, they reached the company’s camp. Struugar stopped before his tent.

  “Make sure you get some sleep,” the captain said. “You are going to need all that you can get in the coming days. Make no mistake, what lies ahead will be far from easy.”

  “Yes, sir,” Tovak said. “I will.”

  Struugar spared Tovak a look, as if he were about to say more. It never came. The captain turned away. A moment later, he disappeared through his tent flap.

  Tovak stood there, staring at the captain’s tent for several heartbeats. He was tired, weary, and run-down. More than anything, he wanted to lie down on his bedroll and go to sleep. Still, there was work to be done, the cleaning and maintaining of his kit, before he turned in for the night.

  He walked deeper into the company’s camp. Stepping around the corner of the supply tent, he found sputtering torches, closed tents. Most of the company seemed to have already turned in for the night. A handful of warriors were sitting around a lonely campfire. The warriors held tankards or wineskins. Amongst them were Thegdol, Karn, and Gorabor. At their feet lay their armor, which they had clearly finished cleaning. As he approached, they turned to see who was joining them. The group seemed fairly morose. Tovak was still wet and cold from the earlier rain. The fire felt good. He held his hands out for warmth.

  Corporals Te
rogg and Cullor from Fourth Section turned their gazes from Tovak to each other and then back to the fire. There were two other skirmishers present, who Tovak recognized but did not know.

  “To the fallen,” Terogg said, with a good deal of iron in his voice. He raised his tankard, as did the rest. “May they feast heartily in the halls of our ancestors.”

  The group drank. Without a drink, Tovak felt out of place. Thegdol handed him his skin. Tovak took a pull from it and found it to be sour wine with a strong taste of vinegar. He handed the skin back to the sergeant.

  “To those not among us,” Thegdol said, with feeling. He raised his tankard. “They will be missed.”

  “To those not among us,” the others replied together. They drank. Once again, the sergeant handed Tovak his skin to drink.

  The circle went silent once again, and each warrior seemed lost in his own thoughts. Though the sergeant had included him, Tovak still felt like he’d interrupted something special. But no one had told him to leave or made plain he was not welcome. He did not sense any animosity or resentment directed his way either.

  “Tovak,” Thegdol said, “I heard you’d been called to see the warchief. What did he want with you?”

  “He asked me about what happened,” Tovak said, “when I went after Gorabor and Dagmar.”

  “That was a ballsy thing to do,” Terogg said, looking up from the fire. “Following after an enemy raiding party in the dark. With how orcs can see in the dead of night, I don’t know if I would have done the same.”

  “That’s because your balls are on the smaller side,” Karn said.

  That caused a chuckle around the fire. Tovak even grinned.

  “I guess you’d know,” Terogg shot back with a grin. “You’re always looking at them when I change.”

  Karn gave an amused grunt.

  “And that was it?” Thegdol asked Tovak, sounding a bit surprised. “That’s all he wanted, the story of what happened?”

  “There was more,” Tovak said, trying to evade the question. “But I was asked not to speak on it.”

  “Come on,” Gorabor said. “You can tell us. What else did they say?”

  “No, I can’t,” Tovak said. He would not break his word. To do so would cost him Legend and the little trust he’d earned. “I’m under orders.”

  “Seriously?” Gorabor asked. “I mean”—he looked around the circle—“it’s us.”

  “I gave my word, Gorabor.” Tovak’s tone was firm. “I’m sorry.”

  Gorabor appeared crestfallen.

  “Well, lads, that’s it for me.” Thegdol slapped his hands upon his thighs before he rose to his feet and looked over at Tovak. “If you gave your word, you gave your word. That’s the end of it.” Thegdol glanced at those gathered around the fire. “It was a bitch of a day and I’m spent. I think you all had best turn in and get some sleep. From the activity going on around the camp, the warband will be marching again in the morning.” He eyed Tovak again. “And I suspect you haven’t had a chance to clean your kit.”

  “No, Sergeant,” Tovak said. “Not yet.”

  “Get on it,” Thegdol said. “Then get your ass in the sack. That goes for all of you, if you missed the subtle hint.”

  “Yes, Sergeant,” Tovak said.

  With that, Thegdol turned and moved off in the direction of the latrines. The rest of the warriors drained their tankards and skins, rose to their feet, gathered up their armor, and filed off. Gorabor patted Tovak on the shoulder.

  “Thanks again, for saving my life,” Gorabor said and strode off for their tent.

  Alone at the fire, Tovak blew out a breath and glanced towards the heavens.

  Thank You, Thulla, for the lessons of the previous days, hard though they were. Blessed are those who follow Your word and the Way. Blessed are they who will carry the light to Your people with every breath. I am and ever will be Your humble servant, till that solemn day when I return to Your breast and stand in the glory of Your magnificence. He paused, and his thoughts drifted back to Jodin. And please, if it is within Your heart, grant Jodin his life and a speedy return to health. If not, please make his passing from this life into the next an easy one.

  Tovak turned towards the tent. Though he was dead tired, it was time to clean his kit, and that would take some time.

  Chapter Seven

  What remained of the Baelix Guard’s skirmishers stood assembled in the company area, waiting. They’d been told to don their packs and had been issued four days of precooked rations. Around Tovak, there was a low drone of conversation, mixed with much speculation as to where they were off to as the skirmishers sought to pass the time.

  Tovak was tired and in need of additional sleep. He rubbed at his dry, weary eyes, then glanced up at the sky. It was nearly completely black, with a sprinkling of stars visible between the clouds, which seemed to hang low over the warband’s encampment. There was no sign of the moon. He figured it was at least two hours from the first hints of dawn breaking across the sky.

  Shifting, he stretched slightly. His body ached terribly. He was stiff and sore from the exertions of the last few days. All he wanted was to go lie back down and rest. But that was not to be. Soon, they would be marching. He knew that after a few miles the ache and soreness would work itself out.

  Gorabor stood next to him in the ranks. His friend was talking to Dagmar in low tones. Tovak figured both felt the same as he, most likely worse. Gorabor’s bruises still looked quite ugly and Dagmar’s ankle had improved, the limp barely noticeable.

  Around them, the strikers were still in their tents, sleeping, as were most of the rest of the warband. The encampment was quiet, almost still. Tovak found it a little unsettling, unnatural even.

  “Company,” Benthok called, just loud enough to be heard. It was apparent his intention was not to disturb those who were still sleeping. “Stand to attention.”

  The conversation ceased, and with it, they all went rigid, chins up and backs straight. Struugar had emerged from his tent and was striding their way. The lieutenant turned and offered the captain a crisp salute, which Struugar dutifully returned.

  “Thirty-two present and accounted for, sir,” Benthok said. “Twenty-four in the sick tent.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant.” Struugar turned and regarded the assembled skirmishers for a couple heartbeats.

  There were deep bags under the captain’s eyes, giving the impression that Struugar had not slept a wink. For the first time since he had met the captain, Tovak wondered on the heavy burden that came with command, the responsibility for so many. He’d not considered it before now.

  It was like he suddenly had a window into the captain’s soul. He could almost feel it, like it was a tangible thing … the pressure, the anguish, the torment, and the self-recrimination weighing upon the captain’s shoulders.

  Struugar stepped forward a pace and placed his hands behind his back. His eyes ran over the assembled warriors.

  “Boys, you have been taken off foraging duty and selected for an important mission. You will be working with the Second Pioneers and Fifth Company on detached duty.” Struugar paused a moment to let that sink in. Though they knew something was up, a ripple of excitement ran through the assembled ranks. “The success of this mission is vital to the Great March.” Again, Tovak felt the ripple run through the assembled skirmishers. There was nothing more important than the Great March. “When everything is said and done, it may very well mean the difference between life and death for our people. I cannot stress how important this could be.” Struugar paused. “I wish I was going with you. However, I have my orders. The strikers and I will be doing something different. I know you will not let me or the warband down. For now, that is all. With luck, we will see each other again in the coming days.”

  Around him, there was some low murmuring that was barely audible from some of the veterans.

  Struugar turned to Benthok.

  “Lieutenant,” Struugar said. “Get them moving.”

&nbs
p; “Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said. He snapped off a crisp salute, which again the captain returned.

  “Alright, you heard the captain. Company, left face,” Benthok ordered. The Baelix Guard turned as one, shifting to a marching column. The lieutenant strode stiffly to the head of the formation and came to a stop next to Thegdol. He glanced back over his shoulder, clearly making certain all was in order. “Forward, march.”

  And with that, the lieutenant led them out of the company area. Tovak looked over to see Struugar watching. The captain did not appear happy, not in the slightest. Just off to the side stood Sergeant Bahr. Their eyes met.

  “Don’t be a hero,” Bahr mouthed to him. And then, they were by, turning onto the street before the company’s camp. Benthok led them through the warband’s encampment and over to the eastern gate.

  Waiting for them was Fifth Company. They were arrayed in four ranks. The strikers of the Fifth were standing easy. Dagon’s Second Pioneers were there also, formed up to the Fifth’s right. Dagon stood before his company, talking with a young lieutenant Tovak did not know. The pioneer captain turned and eyed the Baelix Guard as they marched through the gate and approached.

  “Company … halt,” Benthok called, once they had fully cleared the gate.

  The formation came to an abrupt stop.

  Captain Dagon separated himself from the lieutenant and stepped forward. Benthok offered the captain a salute. Dagon returned the salute. He scanned the Baelix Guard’s skirmishers for several heartbeats, a stoic expression upon his face. It was as if he was looking for someone specific, and then, Tovak knew who, for the captain’s gaze stopped upon him. The captain’s face remained impassive, cold. He could almost feel the disgust, hatred, and blame radiating outward towards him.

  “I have been given command of this operation,” Dagon said, his gaze moving off Tovak and sweeping over the formation of skirmishers. “You all know me. We’ve worked together closely in the past. I expect you to do your duty, just as you would for Captain Struugar.” He pointed towards the northeast. “We’re headed to a valley called Keelbooth. It is to the northeast and there is something in the valley the warband is hunting for. What that is, I cannot tell you. All you need to know at this time is that what the warband seeks is critical to the success of the Great March.”