Cyador’s Heirs

LXV

Later on twoday, the Lancers from second company join all the other Lancers and archers in creating a set of defenses for Nevnarnia, using shovels and mattocks from two carts that Lerial had not noticed earlier, and he wonders if they had come while he was inspecting the hamlet. Lerial glances into the skies to the south, where trails of smoke still wind into the skies, wondering why the Meroweyans don’t press, and watching as the scouts ride up and report to Altyrn, then ride back out.

After a time, well after the fourth glass of the afternoon, he makes his way to where Altyrn has set up his table under the trees to the east side of the road.

“Ser?”

“Yes, Lerial?”

“Why aren’t they pushing forward?”

“Because they can’t.” The majer smiles at Lerial’s puzzled expression, then goes on. “The larger a force is, the more difficult it is for it to move swiftly. The roads here in the Verd are narrow, at least for thousands of riders and armsmen on foot. If they try to move quickly, they’ll have to form a narrow column, most likely more than two kays long. That would allow us to attack anywhere, and they would lose the advantage of having a much larger force. They’re proceeding deliberately, clearing a wider area on each side of the main road. They’re using their wizards to do that, and that slows them more, because they don’t want them worn out.”

Lerial can see that, but that raises another question. “So why are we-”

“Building a barrier instead of attacking them from the woods? That’s because they’re still too close to the edge of the Verd.”

Abruptly … Lerial understands. “This is only to give them the impression that we will stand and fight.”

“Not exactly. This is likely to be one of the last times we can inflict large numbers of casualties at one time … and we need to do it in a way that will anger their commanders to the point that they will vow to destroy us to the last Lancer and officer.”

That takes Lerial aback.

“We can’t afford to fight Merowey more than once in a generation.” Altyrn’s smile is both sad and weary. “That’s also why you are not-under any circumstances-to attempt to use order until the healer says you can. We will need that skill far more in the eightdays to come than we will now. Your task as captain is to inflict what casualties you can while losing as few rankers as possible. If you and the others can do that, in the end we will win. Now … here’s what you’ll be doing tomorrow…” The majer goes on to explain. When he is finished, he says, “I’ll give you your final orders tomorrow morning, once we know more about what the Meroweyans plan.”

“Yes, ser.”

“Eat what you can, and get some sleep. See that your rankers do, too.”

By the time the sun has set and darkness has crept across Nevnarnia, the defenses that Altyrn has designed are in place … and all the Lancers are tired, but not tired enough that all the companies except second and fifth company mount up and depart, leaving Lerial and Shaskyn and their companies to hold the road and bar the Meroweyans from the hamlet.

A barricade two yards high and woven out of branches and greenish thorns, as well as anchored to sturdy posts at regular intervals, runs across the road and into the trees, extending a good fifty yards beyond the road on each side until it is lost in the thick underbrush, much of it gray-leafed and thinner than would have been the case later in the year. The branches and thorns are of the greenest vegetation available so that the chaos-fire will not spread easily or quickly.

Behind the barricade is an open ditch some three yards wide running from the trees on the east to those on the west. It is only a yard deep, but is filled with sharpened stakes protruding a third of a yard from the base of the trench. Little more than a yard behind the first trench is a second, and deeper trench, also staked, but covered with branches and leaves and then with road clay where the road would have been and grass from the shoulders to the trees. The earth dug from the trenches is piled and packed behind the barricade, more than a yard high. South of the barricade, exactly one hundred yards out, the upper limbs have been stripped from the road side of two tall trees, one east of the road, and one west.

Even though the evening meal is more cold ghano-acorn hash, Lerial is glad for it. He also has no trouble falling asleep.

He is more than surprised not to be awakened early on threeday, although he does wake before sunrise. He washes up from a bucket of water … and wishes he could shave. He and second company eat quickly and are making ready when Altyrn strolls from somewhere.

“There’s not that much hurry. They’re still a kay and a half away, and they’re still breaking camp. They’ve sent scouts this way, and that’s suggesting that they’ll march on Nevnarnia. If they do, you’re to follow the battle plan we went over last night. Second and fifth company will form up about fifty yards back of the barricade. Once the Meroweyans are in range, you’re to start shooting the fire arrows into them…”

Lerial understands the reason for fire arrows. They don’t require the iron heads of war arrows, but the flame can cause damage and often can spook mounts.

“… there’s still always the possibility that the Meroweyans will decide not to attack, but continue on the main road, looking for a back lane to take you from the rear. If that happens, I’ll send a messenger with a wayguide who will show you the other lane that will allow you to rejoin the other companies. There will be more than enough time if they try that. We have a few more surprises if they head that way. We’ll have other surprises if they don’t.” With that, Altyrn turns and heads in the direction of fifth company.

Lerial can’t help but wonder if his father knows that the majer would be forced to fight a war in the Verd … or if he even thought it would come to an all-out fight. Was that why he picked the majer? But then, if he’d known or suspected that training Verdyn Lancers would cause a fight, why would he have said what he did to Lerial, and Lerial had known his father had not been either lying or withholding information. Besides, Casseon had to have made plans before Lerial’s father had even decided to send Altyrn and the two squads of Mirror Lancers. Or was the majer supposed to have withdrawn once he knew the Meroweyans were sending so large a force?

The more Lerial experiences in dealing with the majer and the Meroweyans, the more questions he has. He has only pondered matters for a few moments before Altyrn returns.

“Any last questions?”

“No, ser.” Lerial thinks he probably should, but he can’t think of any.

“You know where to meet us?”

Lerial nods. “Five kays farther northeast on the main road, just past the bridge over the deep creek.”

“Good. Do what you can, but save yourself and your rankers.”

Lerial watches for a moment as Altyrn rides north and into the hamlet on his way back to the main road by the less direct route. Once the majer is out of sight, Lerial crosses the road to the area where fifth company has loosely formed up. Shaskyn steps forward to meet Lerial. “How do you want to handle this, ser?”

“Follow the majer’s orders. Wait until they get well within range, maybe with the lead elements as close as a hundred or a hundred and fifty yards, and then let loose with the fire arrows.” Lerial pauses, then adds, “It might be best if one company loosed the first volley, and then the other, and not too quickly, so that they feel like they’re under a constant attack.”

“Some archers ought to aim toward the rear, too,” suggests Shaskyn. “Might stir ’em up.”

Lerial nods. “Detail maybe five archers to do that.”

The two spend another tenth of a glass working out their plans for the attack … and the withdrawal. When Lerial crosses the road to the side held by second company, he finds his four squad leaders waiting, all clearly interested in what the majer had imparted and what Lerial and Shaskyn had decided.

“The simple order from the majer is to inflict as many casualties on the Meroweyans as possible while trying to avoid taking any casualties ourselves. They’re a good kay away and taking their time…” Lerial goes on to explain.

As he and second company wait for the Meroweyans to approach, Lerial tries order-sensing, and finds that he can now sense people and objects with some clarity for up to a hundred yards or so, a great improvement over what he could do a day earlier, but far from his abilities prior to his being stunned. He also studies the sky, although there is little enough to see, given that there are no clouds and there is only a slight warmish breeze out of the north.

A glass passes … and then another half glass … before one of the rankers posted in a tall tree calls out, “Riders coming!” A moment later, he adds, “Shieldmen behind them!”

Lerial walks to the gelding and mounts, not because he believes that battle is imminent, but because from horseback he can see over the road barriers. He rides into the middle of the road, where he is joined by Shaskyn. At first, all Lerial can make out are the outriders and scouts, but before long he can see the shields of the front line of the main body, filling the road and the shoulder almost from the trees on one side to those on the other.

“Second company! Form up!”

“Fifth company! Form up!”

All the archers and Lancers are in formation and mounted in a matter of moments. While that reduces the range of the archers, and the speed with which they can strike flame to the fire arrows, Lerial wants to be able to withdraw nearly instantly.

By now, the shieldmen are less than four hundred yards away, Lerial estimates, and the Meroweyan column continues northward at a measured pace.

When the leading shieldmen near a point that Lerial knows is two hundred yards from the barricade, at least two companies of foot armsmen fan out from the rear of the Meroweyan formation and trot into the woods on both sides of the road, obviously determined to make their way around the barricade in order to make flank attacks from both sides. That will likely be more difficult than they anticipate, Lerial hopes, since the armsmen struggling through the underbrush will find thousands of sharpened sticks here and there, barely protruding from the ground and concealed by leaves or hidden in shallow depressions, and often smeared with offal or anything else that might cause a wound to fester.

You’ll still have to watch your flanks closely. Some will get around if the attack slows.

“Second company! Bows ready!”

“Bows ready!” echo the squad leaders.

There is something about the vibrations in the air and ground … and Lerial realizes that all the Meroweyan foot are marching in time.

Just before the shieldwall reaches the point between the two marked trees, Lerial orders, “Second company! Strike and light!” He waits until he is certain that all the fire arrows are ready, then orders, “First volley! Fire! Strike and light!”

More than four score flaming shafts arch over the barricade and drop down behind the shield wall into the massed foot. Lerial can see no change. The Meroweyans keep marching.

“Second volley! Fire!”

Now it is fifth company’s turn, and Lerial watches as Shaskyn’s rankers release their two volleys. He can also see Meroweyan armsmen trying to beat out flames here and there, but the foot are so close together that it would be difficult for an individual to break and flee.

“Second company! Strike and light!” Lerial waits only until most arrows are lit before ordering, “Third volley! Fire! Strike and light!”

Even before the fire arrows from that volley are sheeting down into the Meroweyan forces, a chaos-bolt arches from farther back in the attacking force and flares into the middle of the barricade, where vines, sticks, and even a post go up in flames … but the hole is little more than two yards wide.

“Fourth volley! Fire! Strike and light!” Lerial can see that the fire arrows are beginning to disrupt and slow the attackers on foot, and there is jostling and even some gaps in the formation.

Two more firebolts sail over the front ranks of the attackers, now little more than fifty yards from the barricade, and burn another set of openings in the barricade, but three gaps in over a hundred yards are not nearly enough to allow the Meroweyan advance to continue, not at more than a crawl.

The next set of fire-arrow volleys from fifth company sheet into the massed armsmen, and a horn signal sounds. The advance halts.

Two more firebolts flare into the barricade, and then another two, and then two more … and another two. The last pair are decidedly weaker, but most of the barricade that had barred the road itself has vanished.

Another horn signal sounds, and the shieldmen surge forward, pushing through the ashen remains of the barricade and past the few remaining untouched sections, and Lerial sees that they all wear uniforms of a dull golden brown. Almost in a detached fashion, he also realizes that until that moment, he has never actually seen any of the Meroweyans that close, not in daylight and close enough to see the color of their uniforms.

Some of the shieldmen try to use their shields and belt knives to make their way through the places not burned away, but quickly give up and move toward the openings blasted by the firebolts, and all of them slow, some stumbling, when they come up against the packed earth behind it. Many lose their footing in trying to climb over, not seeing the staked ditch immediately beyond the earth, and plunge into the ditch.

A horn call follows, and the advance stops.

Someone issues a command and the shieldmen begin to use their shields to flatten the ditch stakes in the middle of the road.

“Second company! Strike and light!” Lerial orders. “Direct fire at the shieldmen!”

The hardened wood-tipped arrows and their flaming heads will not do nearly so much damage as war arrows, but they will wound and disable some.

Lerial nods as he sees that Shaskyn has ordered the same, then orders, “Strike and light! Fire at will!”

More flaming arrows fly toward the struggling shieldmen, but Lerial can see that they will soon have a pathway of dirt and shields over the first ditch. He also sees the massed foot clearing the remnants of the barricade, and several shieldmen are breaking down the low earthen wall behind where the others are building up a way across the two-yard-wide staked ditch.

That means horsemen!

Lerial looks across to Shaskyn. “Fifth company! Withdraw! Now!” Then he watches as Shaskyn’s squads cease shooting and begin to withdraw.

“Second company! Strike and light! Last volley! Fire!” Lerial checks to make sure that all the fifth company squads are clear and headed north before he orders, “Second company! Stow bows! Turn and withdraw! Turn and withdraw! Deliberate speed!”

Even as he issues the command, he can see horsemen in brown uniforms surging up the road.

“Withdraw now!”

Second company needs no further urging, but Lerial hangs back to make certain all his rankers are accounted for. He takes a quick look south, but it is hard to tell what the toll may have been on the lead elements of the Meroweyan force. Finally, as fourth squad canters past him to the north, Lerial swings in behind them, but he keeps looking back over his shoulder, watching as the Meroweyan horsemen ride down the middle of the road, then narrow to single file through the barricade and over the open ditch-only to have the first two plunge into the second covered ditch.

If only we had more war arrows. But they don’t. We don’t have enough of anything.

Lerial keeps checking over his shoulder, but the Meroweyan advance has slowed, not quite come to a halt-and even if it had, it would have been a very temporary one, Lerial knows.

By the time he reaches the turn to the eastern lane, he sees uniformed riders moving forward once more, and several carry burning torches.

Should you have stayed and tried to remove more of them?

Much as he knows what will happen to Nevnarnia, once the Meroweyans have gotten through the barrier and over the ditches with any force, second company would have still had to withdraw-retreat-or take terrible casualties in blade-to-blade fighting. And it wouldn’t have done anything to stop them.

As he rides up the eastern lane to the north and east road back to the main road, Lerial looks at all the dwellings-all shuttered and empty. At least, he hopes they are empty. Then he rides forward to the front of second company. He cannot help but wonder what will happen to the older couple whose argument he had overheard the day before. Will they perish as well in the flames that will sweep through Nevnarnia? Or die shooting arrows at overwhelming Meroweyan forces? Or will they escape into the woods, pursued by flames or angry Meroweyans?