There Will Be Dragons

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

They marched up to the Via Apallia, then passed over the Shenan bridge heading west.

“Where are we going?” Cruz muttered from the front rank. Everyone knew that the enemy was in the direction to the south. They seemed to be marching away from the oncoming force.

“Don’t know,” Deann replied as the same question was muttered among the others.

“Silence in the ranks,” Gunny called.

They followed the Via on a fast march to the west, segueing from “March of Cambreadth” to “Yellow Ribbon,” with the different parts of the force singing their particular versions, to “Grand Trunk Road” and “Drinking Bourbon.” The cavalry tried to get them to sing Garryowen but since it was impossible to march to, and the archers didn’t know the words, they had to sing it on their own. They continued on through the early morning rain, which required a song of its own, until they came to the Cryptopus Creek bridge.

At a wave to Alyssa from Edmund, the cavalry, less five troopers, broke into a trot and continued down the road as the rest of the band, crossed the river, broke into single file and turned south.

Their path was a narrow trail that followed the edge of the small river. It entered the tree-choked defile that led to the inner valley of Massan Mountain. The trail was narrow and bad and the troop was often forced to pause to shore it up for the following horses or clear the way of deadfalls. Even when they got into the valley itself the old track was barely passable but they made decent time by marching hard. There were brief breaks, mostly to rest the horses, but they didn’t even stop for a cooked lunch, eating parched corn and washing it down with water from the now much reduced stream. But by the time they reached the far end of the valley the sun was long gone over the high mountains to their west and it was starting to get dark.

“Camp,” Edmund called. “Watches but no palisades.”

The troop fell out into their well-practiced camp drill and Gunny and McGibbon set the watches split between the Blood Lords and the archers. The two groups didn’t mingle much but kept to their separate fires.

“So, what the hell is happening?” Cruz asked Herzer as they bolted their evening meal. Herzer had drawn the slot of cook and he had made up a simple bannock filled with monkey and bits of salted pork. “Why the hell did the cavalry take off west?”

“Dunno,” Herzer replied, thinking about the maps of the area. They were about as far away from being able to directly defend the town as it was possible to be.

’You were at the baron’s last night,” Cruz said. “He didn’t say anything?”

“No, he didn’t,” Herzer replied, not mentioning what Edmund had said on the subject. “And if he did I wouldn’t tell you.”

“I think we’re going to head up the mountain,” Pedersen said. The decurion looked up at the black mass above them unhappily. “I hate that fisker.”

“Me too,” Deann said. “But if we are, we’d better get to bed early.” With that she strode out of the firelight and began breaking out her bedroll.

“Agreed,” Herzer said, getting up and grabbing the cooking gear. He washed it in the stream and then laid out his bedding. He had retrieved his fur blanket and had added that to his kit despite the additional weight. He laid down a leather ground cloth, then the blanket, and pulled out a bundle of clothes for a pillow. But before he lay down he took a stroll around the sentries posted at the edge of the camp and made sure everyone was alert and knew the duty roster. Then he headed back, took off his armor and boots and lay down under his cloak. It looked like it might rain sometime during the night but he’d deal with that if and when. He, too, pondered the possible intentions of their commander but before he came to any conclusion he had already fallen asleep.

The next morning, after a hearty breakfast, they headed up the mountain.

The trail was as bad as the one on the way in, if not worse. It clearly followed an old roadbed, but the work of millennia had broken down many of the road cuts and embankments. The trail switched back and forth and most of the ends of the switchbacks were washed away. But the triari was familiar with such conditions from their continuous marching over the region and they fell to work on each obstacle, clearing the rock slides and shoring up the places where the road had washed away. Despite this, it took all day to ascend the summit of the mountain and Baron Edmund was clearly unhappy with the progress. They ate trail rations for lunch and supper and continued marching well into the night. The baron did not permit them torches and with the sky overcast the path along the summit of the mountain was a tree-choked nightmare. Herzer wasn’t sure how late it was when Talbot finally called a halt, but when he did Herzer mustered the sentries and then crawled into his furs, without taking off his armor, and was asleep almost before he lay down.

They were up before dawn the next morning and continued on their way, catching brief glimpses through the trees of the valleys on either side. There was little to be seen — that part of the Shenan was almost entirely unpeopled — until late in the day as they neared the far end of the mountain. The ridge they had followed had sloped upwards and as they approached the summit they could see, far down in the valley and on the west side of the mountain, a large force moving slowly to the north.

They had passed the occasional ancient roadbed and it was on one of these, which was marked by the faint trace of a trail, that Edmund stopped and conferred with Gunny.

“Fall out,” Gunny called. “Make full camp.”

They stacked their weapons and started on the preparations for a fortified camp. First decuri and the archers started on the ditches and palisade while the other squads began cutting trees for a field of fire. The camp was at the top of the trail with the gate on the far side and a narrow passage available for movement up onto the summit.

Throughout the work Baron Edmund had been on a small hilltop to the south and as the afternoon wore on he suddenly nodded in satisfaction and raised a small mirror in his hand, catching the dying light of the sun. Then he trotted down to the nearly finished camp and looked around.

“Gunny, leave one decuri in the camp. The other three squads and the archers will follow me.”

“Yes, my lord,” the Gunny replied. “First, Third, Fourth, prepare to move out.”

“Now what the fisk?” Cruz muttered as the tired and dirty soldiers began gathering their weapons. They had been able to see the enemy below moving northward for some time albeit only when they were down the slope.

“Just follow the orders, Cruz,” Herzer said, picking up his spear and ruck.

“Take off your helmets and put on your cloaks,” Edmund said as they prepared to move off. He had already done so. “I don’t want the glitter of armor showing.”

Herzer thought about that as they moved down the defile, and smiled. The mountain was very high and the line-of-sight distance to the enemy force was at least four miles. He had already noticed that the force in the valley was only viewable when there was a flash of metal, a view of an ox cart or from their afternoon fires. The group of bowmen and infantry filing down the mountain in their cloaks, which were a nondescript gray, would be nearly invisible to the enemy below.

They slithered and slipped down the mountain as the sun fell and the dusk faded to black. The clouds had cleared off after only dropping a smidgen of rain, and the gibbous moon gave just enough light to make their way. They followed the track almost to the base of the mountain where there was a small plateau about sixty meters wide, and paused. The baron called Herzer and McGibbon over to the edge of the plateau.

“Herzer, McGibbon, is there enough light for you to set up light defense works?” Edmund asked.

“Yes, sir,” Herzer whispered. “But only a ditch; we can’t see well enough to cut trees.”

“You don’t have to whisper, Herzer,” Edmund chuckled. “McGibbon?”

“We can set up our shields and stakes,” the archer said. “More than that I’m not sure.”

“Set up a ditch across the defile with one opening,” Edmund said after a moment. “We’ll want some way to close it. Try to camouflage it as best you can. Don’t set up the shields. Not yet. But have them ready to throw up in an instant.”

“There’s a big chestnut just there,” Herzer said, pointing to the edge of the trail downslope. “If we fell it and tie lines to it, we can probably pull it up into the opening and block the trail. That’s what you want, right?”

“Perfect,” Edmund said, looking around. “Get to work.”

Herzer set one maniple of third decuri to work on the tree while the rest dug a shallow trench along the edge of the plateau. When it was done he set them to cutting brush to mask the low wall and scouted for suitable saplings to make a better palisade. They had left their own stakes on the top of the ridge so they had to use local materials. He found that there was enough light and that there was a small grove of poplars, the result of a recent rock slide, that could provide the materials. When the trench was dug he sent the weary soldiers to work downing those and dragging the trunks over to improve the defenses until he was halted by Edmund.

“Well enough for now,” Talbot said, nodding at the improving defenses. “Post sentries and get some sleep. We’ve got a murthering great battle in the morning.”

Herzer called a halt to the preparations and then gave some thought to who should take watch. For most of them this would be their first battle and he knew that, despite their weariness, they would find it hard to sleep. He wasn’t sure he could. He had already fought once, and survived, but this was his first experience of prebattle jitters. He called the three squads together and then tried to pick out those he figured weren’t going to sleep anyway, giving them the duty of sentries, and sending the rest to their beds in the defenses.

When everything was settled, and the majority of the camp was either lying in wait, silently, or sleeping or standing watch, he moved around the defenses checking on the conditions. Halfway down the line, he found Baron Edmund doing the same.

“You need to get some sleep,” the baron said with a nod.

“I could say the same for you, sir,” Herzer replied. “It’s to be an ambush, then?”

“We’ll see,” Edmund replied enigmatically. “Go get some rest, Herzer. First call before dawn. No fires. No one in armor is to show themselves above the parapet after dawn.”

“I’ll pass that on and then go to bed, sir,” the triari replied. “Permission to carry on?” he asked, saluting.

“Right you are,” Edmund said, returning the salute. As the boy passed into the darkness, Edmund shook his head and smiled, then went to bed.

Morning found them tired and sore and eating another cold breakfast of monkey and parched corn. But there was a bit of water cut with wine to wash it down at least. As dawn broke to the east with a limited dawn chorus in the cold of the morning, Edmund sent one of the cavalrymen down the defile with quietly whispered orders, then had the troops stand to in the defenses. The archers were arrayed at either end and the three squads of Blood Lords held the middle. There was a cut in the wall where the trail rose onto the plateau but ropes had been snugged around the butt of the large chestnut and they had determined that it could be moved with ease if everyone fell to the ropes.

A party out of armor and well wrapped in their cloaks to camouflage them against the gray of the trees had set to work improving the camouflage of the defenses when the lead of the enemy force came in view.

This time they were less than a mile away and the soldiers, having doffed their helmets lest the shine give away their positions, watched the force from Rowana straggle by. First came a spray of light cavalry, wandering down the valley pike as if they hadn’t a care in the world, the men sitting silent and glum on their horses.

Then came the oddest sight any of them had ever seen. The force behind the cavalry was a motley group of infantry, but if they were human they had been horribly Changed. They were well below human height and stooped, with long powerful arms and bandy legs. They carried various weapons in their hands, axes both for fighting and wood felling, short swords, spears and clubs. They loped as much as walked, occasionally dropping to a knuckle walk when they had to speed up. Most of them were unarmored but they carried wooden shields across their backs and a few had a shirt of mail or a piece of plate stuck here and there. Despite the morning cold, many of them were virtually unclothed. Few of them wore shirts and many were naked save for a dirty loincloth.

“Orcs by God,” Herzer muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “They’re fisking orcs!”

“Chimp genes,” Edmund said from behind him. The baron was peering at them carefully and he let out an angry sigh. “Sheida told me about this but I could hardly credit it!”

“Are they constructs?” Herzer asked, quietly.

“No, they’re Change,” Edmund growled. “Normal humans Changed by that bitch Celine’s programs. This is… vile.”

“Those poor bastards,” Cruz said with a gulp. “So much for surrendering; I guarantee that those aren’t guys who started out on his side.”

“No, they’re probably just poor damned refugees who got caught in his vile net,” Edmund replied, tightly. “And, yes, that’s probably your fate if he gets his hands on you. But there’s no way we can Change them back. They’re not going to care if you care about them. They’re beyond our help and as steeped in evil as he is. So the only thing we can do is kill them. Because if we don’t, they’re going to take the town and rape our women and burn it to the ground. Am I clear on this?”

“Yes, sir,” Cruz replied.

“Baron, I’ve got a question,” Herzer said.

“Shoot.”

“Didn’t the rabbit say that they were taking the east valley?”

“Of course he did,” Edmund chuckled. “But he’s evil. Or at least, extremely chaotic. So he, naturally, couldn’t tell us the whole truth, even with Bast’s geas. It would violate his nature.”

“And you’re letting him stick around?” Herzer asked, aghast.

“I’ve heard of him, as I said,” Edmund replied. “Trust me, he’s worth keeping on your side.”

“Jesus, will you look at that horse?” Cruz gasped as the next group came into view.

The horse was monstrous, at least three times the size of the largest of Kane’s Hanarahs, and it had to be to carry the massive figure in black plate on its back.

“Dionys?” Herzer asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Edmund chuckled. “I wonder who he finally got to make his armor?”

“Pardon?”

“He wanted me to make that for him,” Talbot replied with a sudden frown. “A good part of his… personal enmity is that I more or less told him to fisk himself.”

Herzer thought of several replies, none of which were quite right. Finally he shrugged. “Well, I think we’re going to do it for him this time, sir.”

“We’ll see,” Edmund replied.

There was a large group of armed humans and a small group of cavalry in heavy plate following Dionys, and Herzer caught enough glimpses through upraised visors to recognize a few of his old cronies. He knew that each of them had participated in the rape of Daneh and it made his blood boil to watch them pass.

“Oh, for my old bow,” he growled. “I could have picked most of them off as they rode past.”

“Patience,” Edmund replied. “Patience.”

Following them was another group of Changed and then a ragtag of baggage carts and poorly dressed men and women. Among the baggage train were some strange sights, including a pony-sized unicorn that was being pulled behind one of the ox carts. Finally the last of the group had passed out of sight.

“We’re just going to let them get away?” Herzer whispered.

“Patience,” Edmund repeated, then chuckled as another group of cavalry came in sight. But this time, Alyssa could be glimpsed at their head and she was already uncasing her horse-bow.

The Raven’s Mill cavalry passed by as well, and for a time there was nothing further to see. The sun had gotten up and was nearly over the mountain at their back when smoke could be seen from the direction the cavalcade had taken. Then they saw the cavalryman, who had been concealed in the woods at the base of the hill, ride out and wave to the north. Then more of the Raven’s Mill cavalry appeared, one of them swaying in his saddle from an apparent arrow. They pounded up the defile, their horses blowing and sweating, until they reached the ledge, then spread across the back of the plateau as Alyssa and the rear guard came in sight.

“Three of you on the best horses head up the hill,” Edmund called. “There are three places where there are rags tied on trees. Drop one horseman at each point. The rest of you rest for a bit.”

Alyssa and the rear guard remained at the base of the hill until a group of enemy cavalry came pounding after them. Alyssa waited, an arrow nocked, until they got in short range, then fired at them and turned immediately up the hill, followed by the rest of the rear guard. One of the horseman tumbled back off his horse but the rest followed the Raven’s Mill forces up the narrow defile.

“Wait for it,” Edmund called. “Stay down. Archers, on command, I want none of them getting away!”

The enemy cavalry gave no indication that they realized they were running into an ambush, following the Raven’s Mill riders up the narrow defile in single line.

“Wait for it,” Edmund called as Alyssa and the rest ran through the defenses, carefully not looking to either side.

“NOW!”

At his call the archers stood up out of the trench and began firing, the shafts running nearly flat at the oncoming riders. Some of them missed but most were on target as the riders were having to slow to negotiate the poorly defined track. In moments all of them were out of their saddles, some of them still alive but most lying still on the ground. Some of the horses were hit as well and their shrill screams grated on Herzer’s ears until the archers, mercifully, finished them off. A few of the horses continued up the trail, apparently following Alyssa’s “herd” and they were caught by the Raven’s Mill cavalry, which was now standing in plain sight. The rest milled around and then most of them began working their way down the hill to stand in a blown cluster at its base.

“Now to see… ah, hah,” Edmund said as a straggling group of orcs, apparently led by one of the plate-armored riders, came in sight of the herd at the base of the mountain. The fate of the cavalry was also clear from where the rider stood but it wasn’t clear if he knew there was a palisade blocking his way. He looked up the hill where the Raven’s Mill cavalry was waiting and then waved the group of about fifty of the Changed up the hill.

“Now we’re to it,” Edmund said. “Alyssa,” he continued, raising his voice. “Get over with a few bowmen. Let’s see how long we can keep this a surprise.”

Alyssa dismounted her whole troop, and three of her horse archers moved over to the gap. The orcs struggling up the steep slope were easy targets and Alyssa’s archers began feathering them one after another as the others clearly prepared to defend the plateau. Some of the orcs, when hit, kept coming, pushing the arrows through their injured arms or sides, but others were killed and it quickly was apparent that the position was too well defended to be taken by the small force. The rider called them back and sent one of the uninjured Changed back in the direction of the main force.

“Come on, get a move on,” Herzer muttered, looking through the vegetation that covered their trench.

“Oh, they will,” Edmund said. “If they try to continue on, they know that Alyssa can sally out and attack them from behind again. They can block the defile at the base or chase her away up the mountain.”

It was quickly apparent that “chase her away” was the plan as most of the enemy force began to appear in the valley.

“Okay, everyone down and get your helmets on,” Edmund called. “Do not look up until I tell you or I’ll have your decurions run a sword through you. Alyssa, you have to be our eyes,” he added, putting on his own helmet.

“They’re deploying. They have some archers too,” Alyssa said as a few arrows whistled up the slope and fell harmlessly on the plateau. “They don’t have much of a chance from there, though.”

“Are they following the trail or spreading out?”

“Right up the trail,” she said, nocking an arrow and firing. “They’re coming up very dumb.”

“Good, fire a few more arrows and then look as if you are out,” Edmund said. “Longbowmen, prepare to stand up.”

“They’re coming straight up the trail. Some of the archers are stopping where they have shots.” She fired again. “But they’re no problem. Two hundred meters… one fifty… They’re spread all down the trail, about a hundred of them. Fifty meters…”

“ARCHERS UP!” Edmund called, standing up himself.

Herzer couldn’t see what was happening but he could hear and see the firing of the archers on either side and hear the screams from down the trail. The archers had placed arrow barrels all along the trench and he could see them pointing out particular targets and laughing as the inhuman enemy fell along the way. Finally Edmund shook his head.

“Stupid, stupid. I have to agree with the bunny.”

“When do we stand up?” Herzer asked.

“When they have a chance of making it up the hill,” Edmund chuckled. “And right now they’re clambering over bodies, which is making it hard. Damn, they’re retreating.” He rubbed his chin and shook his head. “And what are they doing elsewhere?” he asked rhetorically. He turned around and looked at the sun, which provoked a sneeze, then pulled out his small mirror. Herzer could now see that there was a clear spot in the middle and some sort of grid. Edmund lifted it and flashed up the hill for a moment and then waited. After a moment, Herzer could see a flag raised against the sun which twitched for a moment then lowered and raised, twitching again.

“Thank the Lord for stupidity in our enemies,” Edmund said, twitching the mirror again. “They’re turning their whole force around and heading back this way.”

It was noon before the full force was arrayed at the base of the mountain and Herzer had ordered the troop to eat another cold ration from their packs. They were running low on parched corn but by the end of the day they should be able to dip into their meal and have something cooked. Just after noon Dionys put in his attack, sending his orc fighters straight up the trail again as his archers tried to move up the steep hillside through the trees to get a shot at their enemy archers.

The longbowmen began feathering the Changed again but this time the orcs were crouched behind their shields and some of them were making it up the trail. Finally Edmund nodded. “Herzer, get the tree in position.”

“Triari! To the ropes!” Herzer called, scrambling up himself and getting a look at the battlefield for the first time since the early morning.

The first thing that he noticed was that the trail was choked with arrow-filled bodies, the horses and cavalrymen already starting to bloat in the sun. Farther down the trail there was a spray of orc bodies and a line of orcs, bent under their shields, scrambling over the bodies to try to reach the defenders. At the sight of the Blood Lords some of them stopped and screeched defiance, then came on under the weight of the fire, stumbling from time to time as an arrow found its way past their shields. As they got closer this became more common since the archers were firing from the sides, and even with their large round shields the orcs’ bodies were in view to either side. Herzer could almost feel sorry for them as they came forward into the storm of arrows but he had other things to worry about as the triari took up the ropes and pulled.

The tree was a fully mature chestnut and very heavy. It took all their straining to get it moving up the hill but after a moment it slotted into position in the gap in the defenses, the trunk well up the hill and the branches pointed towards the oncoming enemy force, creating a well-nigh impassable tangle on the downhill side.

The Blood Lords fell in on their positions and took up their shields, standing in a silent, disciplined line along the wall. To either side the archers continued their fire, slower now as they began to weary from the continuous draw and fire. They were less accurate as well as they fatigued and some of them were switching out for their assistants, stepping to the side and massaging their weary shoulders.

“Swords,” Edmund said as the first of the Changed approached the parapet. They had struggled around and through the branches of the felled tree and now clambered up the trunk, scrabbling at the stakes of the palisade. The first raised his head up in front of Cruz and fell back with a broad split in the side from the short, broad sword of the Blood Lord.

For a moment it was hot work all along the parapet as the Blood Lords hewed at the clutching arms of the orcs raising themselves up the parapet but there was no easy way for the Changed to force themselves past the soldiers. For the Blood Lords it was like a drill. They simply hacked and jabbed at whatever target was presented to them, keeping their shields up and forward to prevent being hacked at in turn. In short order the attackers fell back down the trail leaving a line of their dead and wounded piled against the parapet and being feathered in the back by the archers at either end.

The battle had not been completely one sided. Several of the Blood Lords were living up to their names with slashes on arms, battered helmets, or shields. But their heavy armor had been proof against most of the thrusts of the enemy and no one was killed except one of the archer assistants who had been caught up by one of the powerful orcs and dragged over the parapet to be hacked to death.

“Well, that was interesting,” Edmund said. “Consolidate your force, Triari. Post battle chores.”