There Will Be Dragons

CHAPTER FORTY

Almost everyone was red-splashed by the battle and one of the first orders of business was to clean their armor and weapons. After that, Herzer got to work, setting some of the force to work on the wounded while others repaired the limited damage to the defenses. The orcs had tried to pull the stakes down from the parapet but they were well driven into the ground. A few had been hacked nearly through, but they were quickly replaced with spares that had been laid up before the battle. At the same time one decuri was given the duty to stand sentry and otherwise the remainder had been told to eat, rest and work on their gear.

All three squads had been given a chance to eat and rest before Edmund called them back to the parapet. The archers were back at work but this time the attacking force was led by some of the plate-clad figures, which didn’t make Herzer happy at all.

“There’s nothing you can do with a regular sword to plate,” Edmund said to the Blood Lords. “But the arrows will go right through it at short range, as can your pilums if well driven. This is the place for the pilums, and lay your construction tools to hand; we’ll show them how armored men-at-arms die.”

The plate-clad men-at-arms were obviously making heavy work of climbing up the hill and as they closed, the primary archers took their positions, sending carefully aimed arrows into the joints at neck, elbow, knee and the vision gaps of the visors. The men-at-arms tried to keep their shields up but they could only cover one side, and the archers on the left flank were striking them hard. As the armored figures got closer, the arrows began to punch straight through their armor and they fell by the wayside. For that matter, the Blood Lords could get their pilums in play. The pilums couldn’t penetrate the armor but they could penetrate the shields and when they did the soft steel heads bent down, adding their weight and leverage to the already unwieldy shields. The fighter then had to stop and try to extricate them, leaving them open to the archer fire, or try to come on with the spears stuck in their shields, which made them virtually useless. There had been only fourteen in the group, by the time they were at the top there were five.

“Let them cross the parapet,” Edmund said in an amused tone as the first reached the top. “Step back,” he added, stepping forward.

The armor-clad figure got a hand over the top of the parapet and hoisted itself up, almost falling into the interior and raising its shield and sword against the Blood Lords to the right.

By doing so he turned his back on Edmund who stepped forward and brought his great hammer down on the back of the figure’s head. The thick steel of the helmet crumpled under the blow and the figure pitched forward on his face.

“That’s the technique,” Edmund said. “Get them separated, stop them with your shields in one direction and then bash them down with the axes and mallets.” As another came up the parapet he smashed the hammer down upon the fighter’s hand, eliciting a scream and a clanking sound as the fighter fell off the parapet and began to inexorably roll down the steep mountain’s flank. “And, of course, don’t fight fair.”

There were only three of the fighters left and they were finished off in a similarly brutal fashion. The last caught sight of Herzer and raised his visor in desperation to reveal the visage of Galligan, one of Dionys’ cronies.

“Herzer!” the man gasped, out of breath. “Please God…”

“See you in hell,” Herzer ground out and drove his pilum into the man’s face. He walked along the trench and flipped up visors.

“Benito’s here as well,” he said with satisfaction.

“Feel better?” Edmund asked as the first of the figures was tipped over the parapet to slide down the hill into the next wave of orcs.

“A bit,” Herzer admitted. “I’ll feel much better when he’s dead,” he continued, pointing down the hill to where McCanoc could be seen striding up and down.

“You’re not supposed to enjoy this,” Edmund pointed out.

“I don’t enjoy killing people,” Herzer said then shrugged. “Okay, there are a few that I get some satisfaction from. But I also don’t get all wrapped up about it. Does that make me sick?”

“Not if you don’t enjoy killing for its own sake,” Edmund replied. “Some of the archers and your fellow soldiers are puking themselves sick. But that’s just one end of the reaction to combat. Some people are like you, they just do it and go on. As long as you don’t get to enjoying it too much.”

“I like the competition,” Herzer said. “I really like the winning. Even if it means the other guys die.”

“Then if you survive for a while you’ll make a pretty good soldier.” Edmund smiled as McCanoc called back the last of his forces. “Hell, you’re already making a pretty good soldier.”

After a brief consultation between Dionys and a few of the armored riders, one of them rode towards the defense and stopped out of bowshot, waving a white rag on the end of his lance.

Edmund stood on the parapet and cupped his hands. “Come forward if you want to parley. Any tricks and you’re going to look like a porcupine.”

The rider worked his horse up the hill slowly as the half-trained horse shied constantly at the smell of the blood from the bodies. A few of the attackers were still alive but the rider didn’t pay any attention to them, simply riding around their outstretched hands.

When he reached easy shouting distance of the Raven’s Mill line he stopped again and raised his visor.

“Him I don’t recognize,” Herzer muttered.

“Sacrificial goat,” Edmund guessed. “So, do you surrender?” he called.

“No,” the man said with nary a flicker of humor in his grim visage. “But we call upon you to do so. If you do not we’ll simply swarm your silly palisade and kill you all.”

“You should have tried that at first,” Talbot replied. “Now you’re already down, what? Fifty? A hundred fighters? And the rest aren’t going to be exactly ecstatic about attacking.”

“Leave now and we’ll permit you to live,” the horseman called. “It’s the best deal you’ll get.”

“Give us McCanoc and all of the survivors that participated in the rape of my wife along with anyone who was in the sack of Resan and we’ll let you live,” Talbot replied contemptuously. “Oh, and head back to your hole. Then we’ll let you get away alive.”

“Is that your last word?” the armored figure asked.

“That’s my final answer,” Talbot replied with a grin. “Come on to it. We’re just getting warmed up.”

The horseman shook his head, then headed back down the hill. At the bottom he conferred with McCanoc who simply lifted his finger at the hill and gave a very ancient symbol of contempt.

“Now to see what they’ll do,” Edmund mused. “Tell the troops to get a bite to eat. I’ll go talk with McGibbon and Alyssa.”

Herzer passed the word and sat himself down to eat. The smell of the bodies was rising up over the palisade and between that and the cries of the wounded, for water among other things, it was not one of the best meals he’d ever had. But he managed to choke it down. Finally Edmund came back, chewing on a bar of monkey, and nodded at something down the hill. “He was serious.”

The whole force had gathered at the base of the hill, with the armored figures in the center by the trail and the archers and Changed arrayed to either side. At a gesture from McCanoc, the whole force started up the hill.

“He’s got some tactical sense,” Edmund said. “He knows that with us in his rear he can’t get to the town and that we can obviously outmaneuver him on the hills.”

“So what are we going to do now?” Herzer asked nervously. The small force on the hill was outnumbered nearly a hundred to one.

“See how many of them we can make die,” Edmund said with a chuckle. “And then, run away.”

Herzer heard the horses start up the defile and looked around involuntarily.

“Eyes front,” Edmund called. “They come up the hill and we kill them. Not much more to it.”

The orcs moving among the trees were a poor target for the bowmen so they concentrated on the armored figures moving up the trail. Again the figures dropped, one by one, but behind them was a tide of orcs and as they ascended the trail the surviving enemy bowmen reached a position to start to fire back. Their bows were lighter than those of the Raven’s Mill archers but they scored, mostly among the archers and their assistants. The archers shifted fire to get rid of them and in doing so gave the armored men-at-arms the chance to scramble up the hill unmolested.

The men-at-arms on the trail were making much better time than those on either side and they reached the palisade first. Again there was the desperate struggle around the giant tree as the armored figures burst over the palisade. Herzer waded in with a will, swinging a giant mallet used for driving in the stakes of the palisade, and his corded muscles brought it down with enormous force. But it required two hands to wield and one of the armored men-at-arms got past it, giving him a deep slash on his shield arm. However, in a brief flurry of battle all of the armored figures were down and it was time to deal with the orcs that followed them.

Herzer found himself in the thick of that battle as well. He picked up a dropped pilum and drove it down the hill into the shield of one of the orcs, then stooped to pick up his shield, drawing his short sword as he did so.

“BLOOD LORDS TO ME!” he called, slashing at the grotesquely Changed figures clambering over the parapet.

He found Cruz and Deann on either side of him and the three managed to get the shield wall reformed as the tide swept up the battlements. Then it was time to forget; all they did was hack and slash at the enemy in front of them, sweeping at exposed arms, dropping their shields just long enough to drive them into feet with an over-the-top jab at the face, covering their shield brethren.

In the midst of it, Herzer could sense Edmund moving to either side of him. Wherever the line needed bolstering, suddenly the hammer of the baron would crash down and an orc or two or one time three would be smashed back over the parapet in a welter of blood.

Herzer didn’t know how long the battle went on; it was simply hack and hew, just like training, except for the screams of the orcs and the occasional grunt from either side of him. Finally the tide turned and the only people standing in the trench were the defenders from Raven’s Mill.

The trench was filled with bodies, most of them orcs but a few of the Blood Lords, and more of the archers, were down. Ed Stalker was lying in the blood-filled trench, a sword driven all the way through his body, but his own sword in the throat of the orc that had killed him. Bue Pedersen had a nasty gash on his sword arm that was dripping blood from a hastily applied bandage and at least three of the archers were never going to see Raven’s Mill again.

“Toss the bodies of the enemy over the side and start taking the parapet down,” Edmund said. “Start moving the wounded up the hill. Bury our dead in the trench.”

“Yes, sir,” Herzer answered tiredly. “What about stripping the bodies?” he continued, looking at the corpses and a few that were wounded. The orcs were being finished off as he asked. “There’s some good material here that the town could use.”

“We can’t carry it, though,” Edmund pointed out. “I’d say leave it. McGibbon.”

“My lord.”

“Send half your archers up to the first retreat point,” Talbot said. “There should be a rider waiting there.”

Edmund stood on the plateau as the Blood Lords and the remaining archers went to work. “How long, Herzer?” he asked, shielding his eyes against the westering sun.

“Thirty minutes, Baron,” Herzer gasped, lifting one of the palisade poles out of the ground with a wedge.

“Plenty of time,” Edmund muttered, looking down the hill. “Look at them milling around. Archers, drop that and see if you can get a few arrows to reach that far.”

With the covering fire of the archers, which did indeed make it to where the enemy was attempting to reassemble, the triari quickly took down their defensive position and buried the bodies of their fallen in the good earth. If they were in there with the blood of their enemies, so much the better, but all of the enemy was left on the ground for their “friends” to deal with. Or not. There were still ravens aplenty in the Shenan valley, and they had begun to gather already.

“Archers, move to the second defense point,” Edmund said. “When you reach it, Mac, get the rest moving up the hill. Blood Lords, up to the camp. Move it.”

Evening found them back in the palisades they had left the previous day. They had their first hot meal in a while and the bannocks and boiled salt pork had never tasted so good. The cavalry was gone before they got there but there were sufficient forces, between the archers and the Blood Lords, that they could go to minimal security and everyone could get a decent night’s rest.

The fires of the enemy were twinkling in the valley and while they couldn’t see many of them moving around, as long as the fires were there they could know that they hadn’t moved.

Herzer quickly fell asleep when he went off watch but his sleep was filled with dreams to such an extent that he kept waking up. Around him when he woke the camp was filled with mutters and groans as others apparently relived the battle. Finally, before dawn, he gave up trying to get any more rest, put on his armor and wandered over to the fire at the center of the encampment. The baron was up as well and handed him a mug of sassafras tea.

“It’s a damned poor substitute for real tea,” Edmund growled, “but at least it’s hot.”

Herzer sipped it and warmed his hands, looking at the palisade. “Any news?”

“Not a sign. Which I think means they moved out in the middle of the night.”

Herzer had taken a look at the valley before coming over and shook his head. “There are still fires.”

“Sure, you leave a few people behind to keep them going and move the rest of your force out. It’s an old trick.”

“But we won’t know where they’ve gone,” Herzer said, worried. “They could be halfway down the valley!”

“So?” Edmund chuckled. “I don’t care how fast they’re moving. Now that you guys have gotten some rest, we can get ahead of them. We’re inside their maneuver zone. Whichever way they go, we can cut them off. If they head north, we head north and either get ahead of them or move down to the bridge to cut them off. If they try to head back around the mountain, we can cross the river ahead of them and do the same. We’re inside their arc.”

“But how are we going to know which way to go?” Herzer asked then looked around. “The cavalry.”

“I sent them out in two groups,” Edmund replied. “They didn’t get much sleep but I also sent the horses that the archers had been using. They can stay ahead of them and signal their intentions. They might have stayed in place, in which case they’ll try to assault up the valley. Do you think they can take this fort? After what we did to them yesterday with less defenses?”

“No,” Herzer admitted.

“Neither do I. We’ll know where they are as soon as the sun rises. And on that note, it’s about time to get everyone moving.”

The camp was roused before dawn and by the time the sun was up everyone had had a hot breakfast and was ready to face the day. The camp materials were packed and when the sun finally shone enough light they could get a good look at the valley.

As anticipated, the camp below was mostly empty. The news that it would be had gone around the camp so no one was perturbed by it. Edmund rode up to the summit to get a good look around. After about fifteen minutes he rode down to the camp, shaking his head.

“Don’t bother breaking it down,” Edmund said. “We’ll probably make some sort of permanent structure up here in time. They’re heading back down the valley and around to one of the fords on the east river. Time to move out.”

The force moved out with the archers in the lead and the Blood Lords behind. The archers made good time but the Blood Lords were, quietly, unenthused by the rate of march.

“These guys need to work on marching more,” Cruz muttered. “We can go twice this fast. In heavier armor.”

“Hush,” Deann chuckled. “I’d rather have them with us when we fight next, wouldn’t you?”

“Silence in the ranks!” Gunny called.

They could catch occasional glimpses of the enemy force, now much reduced, as it made its way north. They also caught occasional glimpses of the cavalry screening force, which would signal with flags from time to time. Despite the slow speed of the archers they were clearly gaining on the enemy and passed ahead by noon. But Herzer was worried about the speed that they would be able to make down the valley, not to mention crossing the river. At this time of year it wasn’t yet in spate, but it was a broad river and not to be crossed lightly. However, he had come to trust the baron and if Edmund said they could cut them off he was willing to believe it.

At the end of the main mountain, where it split into two ridges with the interior valley between, they took the right fork, continuing to follow an old hiking trail along the ridge. Herzer was glad they only had a few mules, now almost stripped of provisions, and Edmund’s horses because the trail was very bad; with more horses they would have found it nearly impossible to negotiate. They followed it to the north, losing sight of the enemy force, which was attempting a crossing at some rapids, and continued into the afternoon until, just before dusk, they came upon a group of Raven’s Mill townies at the head of a trail down the mountain.

“Hello, Herzer,” one of them called. The men from the town had axes and spades and had apparently been hard at work improving the trail.

“Hello,” Herzer replied, as the group headed down the mountain. Whatever the condition of the trail before, it was practically a road now. Where it was particularly steep it had either been given switchbacks or steps of rock and trunks. The spaces on the steps had been well filled with tamped earth and they held up under the pounding of the hobnailed force as it hurried down the hill.

“How long ago did you plan this, Baron Edmund?” Herzer asked as the baron came past, his horse delicately negotiating the steps.

“From the beginning,” Edmund said. “I had Kane send them up yesterday to prepare this path and two others; I couldn’t be sure which way he would hop.”

Herzer just shook his head and wondered if he would ever get the knack of thinking that far ahead.

At the base of the mountain they followed the trail to the river where a ferry had been installed. It was a simple raft connected to heavy ropes but it was more than sufficient to permit the force to cross. By the time they were on the far side of the river it was solidly dark. But after removing the ferry and sending two men to pole the raft down stream they pushed on down the river to the Bellevue grade where he had made his stand against the original scouting force.

There, too, the men from the town had been hard at work. At that point the shoulder of the first ridge came down to a bend in the river and the only way across the shoulder was the cut of the old pike. Despite that fact, trees had been felled along the whole line from the river to the cliffs of the first ridge, forming an abatis, which had been reinforced with a pile of cross-logs to make a complicated breastwork. A ditch and parapet was under construction across the pike, and archer positions had been prepared on the east side of the pike, ranging up the shoulder of the ridge. With the Blood Lords in the parapet and along the west side and the archers above, able to fire down at anyone from their position to the river, the defenses were well nigh impregnable.

Herzer could still tell that it was going to be a hard fight.

A camp had been prepared on the far side of the defense and, after filing in through the small path that was the only way through the defenses, the group settled in and had a solid meal cooked by women from the town. There was a ration of wine for their supper and they had all they could eat, but best of all the baron gave them the night off; the militia could stand the watch for them.

Herzer fell asleep to the sight of the baron poring over maps by the light of a torch and his sleep, this time, was untroubled by dreams.

When Herzer awoke it was past noon and he blinked light from the sun that was up over the ridge out of his eyes. A few of the Blood Lords were already moving around but others were still asleep, curled up in limp balls. He wandered over to where Edmund was conferring with Alyssa and nodded at the two of them.

“They had a bad crossing,” Alyssa said. She added, “He lost most of his carts and some of the infantry got washed away. The few men-at-arms he has with him are mostly on foot as well and I think at least one of them must have been lost since I saw only five. By my count, he’s down to no more than three hundred. And they’re moving slow.”

“Two hundred and seventy-three under arms,” Bast said, walking down the hill. “As of this morning when I lowered it from two hundred and seventy-seven. And now that they have flankers out, it’s really slowed them down. Hi lover boy.”

“Hi Bast,” Herzer said with a grin and a surge of lust he hoped wasn’t obvious on his face.

“I can tell you’re glad to see me,” the elf replied with a grin and a wink. “But there’s a battle to be fought today and I don’t do it with men in armor. It damned well pinches.”

“So now we wait?” Herzer asked Talbot.

“More or less,” Edmund replied. “But even with short of three hundred, he can swarm us if he hits the defenses in a wave.” He nodded at the group and grabbed his horse, mounting easily despite the armor, and rode out of the defenses through the narrow, twisting path. He rode back and forth, then came back, nodding in satisfaction.

“Kane, I want a group of militia up here. Some archers and pikemen to man the defenses. McGibbon, Herzer, get your people down again. Let’s see if we can fool him twice.”

“I’ll get some people to work on covered ways,” Kane added. “That way if he stands off at night, the defense force can get off the parapet without being observed or at least get fed in the line.”

“Good idea,” Edmund said.

“Gunny, you need to head back to town, Herzer and I can handle it here. I want you to see if you can stiffen up the militia.”

“Like using buckshot to stiffen up spit,” Gunny muttered. “Permission to stay here, sir?”

“Permission denied,” Edmund said with a grin. “With Kane here, I need you back there.”

“Yes, sir,” the NCO said, stolidly.

“Let’s get to it.”