Arcane Mercenaries: Insurrection, page 30
The pair strolled back along the paths, stepping aside as soldiers and couriers hustled by. A few spotted their commanding general and offered salutes, but the majority continued past the duo, their tasks too urgent to delay.
“Smells like dinner is already started,” Grant said. “No way Ez is done with work in the command tent.”
“General Gwydian, the Arcane Mercenaries are reporting for duty,” Jakar Syed, commander of Grant’s cavalry forces, swept his hat off his bald head and bowed at the waist. His bowlegged stance always made Grant laugh, but no one equaled that man in the saddle.
More of his commanders emerged from nearby tents. Ismia, Aleksas, Lamhas, Hild, and the others all waited to greet their boss. Grant didn’t trust himself with words as his heart flooded with pride. His soldiers, no his friends, waited for him around a campfire like they were youngsters again.
“I’ll get Esmerelda,” Jafran said, knowing Grant wouldn’t be able to manage the words.
“She knows,” Aleksas said. “She’s the one who sent us to the camp to pitch our tents.”
“Where are the others?” Grant asked his officers.
“Just inside the south edge of the forest,” Hild said. “We got the mess tents up first for a meal, and then they’ll set up camp after.”
Exactly what Grant would have ordered if he’d been here.
“Cannons? Horses?” Grant asked his leaders.
“Be here in two days,” Ismia said. “They’re under guard, and we did some disguise work. Everyone will think they’re the queen’s artillery.”
“Right up until they start firing,” Lamhas joked as he poked the fire and coaxed higher flames. He grabbed a spoon and swirled the contents of the heavy iron pot.
“Ez told us you captured an island, a port city, and some factories,” Aleksas said. She pushed up her glasses, her unconscious sign she was using her powers to detect the truth. Grant laughed at his situation.
“We pushed Dominick’s civil war along,” Grant said.
“You did all of that without us,” Aleksas said, feigning hurt feelings.
“Imagine what we’ll do with everyone here,” Grant said. He relaxed as he dropped himself onto a log he’d carved with a seat. After pulling off his boots, he glanced around at his friends. “The odds are against us, and the information is limited.”
“Normal,” Lamhas said, not looking up from his work on their dinner.
“Another crazy plan,” Ez said as she rounded the corner in the path to reach the group. Seeing the woman before the sun went down was rare, but tonight she was back with the mercenaries. She brought paperwork, though.
“When we move out from the forest, Duke Ardwick’s spies will immediately report our actions. When they guess our objectives are to destroy his base of power in his duchy, he’ll try to get in front of us. We’ll put the Arcane Mercenaries in the rear of the formation to surprise him.” Grant turned to Ez. “Don’t put that in the orders.”
“How’s the morale?” Hild asked.
“We’ve had our downs,” Grant said. He looked around his clearing, wondering if anyone listened in. “Crisis of confidence is the worst, and we had lots of that when Catrin went down and the duke ambushed us on the road.”
“Better today,” Ez said with a smile.
“How long do we have before the spies report the mercenaries?” Grant asked Ez.
“I’d bet our next contract those riders are already hot on the trail to inform Ardwick.”
“What if he moves to intercept our artillery?” Ismia asked.
“I don’t want to use the guns as bait, but I'll take it if the duke gets greedy and breaks out of his concealment. Our army is massed here.”
He had two days to finish his planning and get the word out to the army. His Arcane Mercenaries were in Ismore, and they had a chance at success.
55
STARTOUCHED
Prince Dominick's forces set off from the depths of the Coworth Forest with a grand display of pomp and circumstance. Standards billowed in the breeze, trumpets blared triumphant melodies, and the rhythmic cadence of drums dictated the tempo of their march. The troops moved with the precision of a grand parade in the heart of the capital rather than a force traversing the muck-infested trails carved by the leading cavalry.
This spectacle was staged for the benefit of the observing villagers and the duke’s scouts, but it must have presented a breathtaking sight. A formidable host of twenty-five thousand men-at-arms, knights, and nobility filled the roads away from Freyham, routes that ran parallel to Llynmond.
At the vanguard of the primary column were Prince Dominick and the enigmatic Mage of Mists, Catrin. Sina wore her splendid armor and rode near the prince, slighting the rest of the nobility who chose to accompany their future king. Though there were bruised egos and silent assumptions, nothing could overshadow the magnificent procession of the prince's army.
Catrin's recuperation seemed nothing short of a miracle, and perhaps Dominick kept Sina at his side as much for her pleasant company as for her potential role in accelerating Catrin's recovery from her severe injuries. The Mage of the Mists maintained a stoic expression, but having seen Ez's struggle to heal from her lesser wound, Grant could only imagine the pain Catrin must be enduring.
Grant harbored the silent hopes that their intricate scheme would confuse the queen’s scouts. Dominick journeyed along the roads nearest Llynmond, his path threatening an imminent shift toward the capital. The prince's retinue was a kingly display of knights and nobility riding on their powerful chargers and encased in their finest armor.
Hand-picked officers led smaller detachments along three parallel roads. Their paths pointed toward separate cities ruled by the queen’s most ardent supporters. Grant approved paths that kept the armies a day’s ride from each other, a gap far wider than the one used when Duke Ardwick attacked his forces on Waetling Road.
Grant’s secret weapon was Jakar and his brilliant cavalry. The flashy cavalry commander was off well before dawn to provide a protective screen against the duke while searching for his encampment. Dominick hadn’t had the advantages of the Arcane Mercenaries, and Grant was confident they would receive ample notice of any impending attack.
He was banking on it.
The main force of Arcane Mercenaries integrated with Dominick's slowest and smallest detachment. Grant rode by the advance’s most inexperienced commander, Sir Robert Sydney, a knight who won his honors at Dominick’s side near Freyham. The young knight initially exhibited signs of trepidation at having the StarTouched general in his ranks, but Grant dispelled his fears by making it clear that Sydney commanded their joint forces.
Grant would be too busy controlling the separate columns while gaining information on the duke and the queen’s response to their march out of Coworth. Sir Sydney could handle the minutiae of the march for three thousand soldiers, most of which were mercenaries.
The staff deliberately planned a short march for Sir Sydney’s column. Dominick was the bait as he paraded around with his entourage of knights, and Duke Ardwick had to see the other forces moving toward different objectives. If Grant’s plan worked, scouts would report Dominick’s fragmented forces were worse than the retreat to Coworth. It had to be too tempting to pass up the chance to swoop in on Dominick’s column.
Sir Sydney’s soldiers didn’t complain about the short march and used the time to fortify their encampment. Nearby trees provided materials for firewood and palisade fences in an elaborate show of setting up camp. Shovels rang out against the rocky soil until sunset to prepare defensive positions. Grant checked on the soldiers before riders from the other columns appeared with their nightly reports.
The columns reached their day one objectives, but none reported sightings of the queen or the duke. Grant checked their maps and was satisfied with the reports. He needed to hear from Jakar to determine if their plan worked.
His initial courier arrived near midnight, bearing news that brought a smile to Grant's face. The duke had bitten the bait, forcing his troops to march toward Dominick’s encampment. The knights could arrive as early as daybreak, and the infantry, if they pushed hard, could reach the battlefield by noon.
Grant had to spring the trap and maintain a stranglehold until Ardwick surrendered his sword to Dominick. He sent his fastest riders to the closest columns to get them out of their tents to join Grant’s forces. They were too far away to meet Dominick’s column before the fighting began, but the closest column could arrive by late afternoon.
With all eyes on Dominick, Grant sent a messenger but ordered them not to move until after daybreak. Grant had to set the hook carefully.
Jakar had to be at his best after an exhausting day in the saddle. Grant needed him to blind the duke’s scouts and cut off communication from the field. The duke had to rush into the trap, and Grant had to scramble to get ahead of him.
Grant’s rested troops left the comforts of their camp behind and marched with the stars as their only companions. They slipped through the night, not using drums to mark the cadence. The forced march gave them little time to prepare the battlefield, but the duke would be surprised when his forces found Grant in an unexpected defensive line.
Jakar sent a map along with his reports for the best terrain to interdict and surprise Duke Ardwick’s rapid advance toward Dominick’s sleeping column. Grant raced to reach the closest position and give his detachment enough time to prepare.
Ismia positioned her guns and dug until the sun crested the horizon. She sighted the most likely avenues of advance and the roads leading to their positions. Grant had little natural terrain to defend his smaller force, but they used every minute to prepare.
The small column didn’t need motivational speeches for the battle ahead. Dominick and the other columns would be their reinforcements, but the opening rounds belonged to them. Grant had a report in his hand that fifteen thousand troops advanced toward them, and the queen mustered another thirty thousand.
The numbers wouldn’t matter if Ardwick wasn’t prepared for a fight.
Sir Sydney accepted Grant’s advice and deployed the Arcane Mercenaries to the center of their position. Dominick’s rebels and Sir Sydney’s vassals anchored the flanks. Confident they had done all they could, commanders told their soldiers to rest.
The sun crested the horizon and began its morning ascent. Ez spotted the dust clouds of the advancing knights first. They hurried in a column formation along the road. Grant had to give Jakar a raise for his heroic efforts—Ardwick was oblivious of their position straddling the lanes toward Dominick’s larger force.
Grant signaled Ismia’s crews to fire on her command. He put his field glasses up to his eyes and let his StarTouched power burn.
The first cannon roared, tearing through the morning’s still air. The others followed in a precise sequence. As a veil of thick, black smoke hung in the air, the crews sprang into action to ready their next shots. Grant observed as the cannonballs tore through the knight’s leading elements. No horse-borne armor could withstand the impact of twelve pounds of iron hurled by the force of gunpowder over a distance of nearly a mile. Bodies crumpled, and horses collapsed in heaps.
The duke, caught off-guard by this formidable firepower, recovered from the initial shock and commanded an expedited advance. The armored knights endeavored to form a wedge, intending to execute a charge into Grant's ranks.
Ismia ordered another round of volley fire. A thousand knights needed time to shift from a long column into an effective line or wedge, but Ismia’s powers flared as she tuned in the precision of her guns against the gathering forces.
Explosive rounds tore through rider and horse with StarTouched precision.
Ardwick ordered his knights to charge too early, and the horses raced to close the gap with Grant’s lines. Artillery rounds tore breaches through the lines, and horses tired, creating deeper holes in the lines.
Grant’s mercenaries prepared muskets and crossbows as they crouched behind their makeshift defenses. They had trenches and palisades to protect them, but they would only get off two shots before the knights were between them.
They had to funnel the charge into the rest of their defenses. Hild and Lamhas hid in shallow trenches with their soldiers, ready to jump out as the charge faltered in the uneven terrain and mounting defensive positions.
Ismia ordered the guns to fire at will, and the teams hit their full rate of fire. They poured hot iron into the advancing steel wall, but the knights still advanced. Gun commanders ordered their teams to load canister rounds.
Eight hundred muskets and crossbows came up on command and launched a full volley of steel and lead before the knights could lower their lances for the attack. A few hundred got off the second shot into the charging ranks.
The survivors crashed into the defensive positions and slashed at the foot soldiers. Ez fired at anyone close to their command group as Grant and Jafran cut down knights who came within range of their swords.
Armored bodies crashed into the defenses as spearheads tore through leather and rings. Hooks tore riders from their saddles, and axes and maces finished the job. One of Ardwick’s nobles ordered the trumpets to sound a retreat, but it was too late.
Lamhas and Hild’s units jumped up from the concealment as the trumpets sounded and slammed into the survivors before they could wheel their horses away. The knights who survived the barrage didn’t last long under the poleaxes and swords wielded by the determined infantry.
Sir Sydney gave orders to respect any knight who surrendered, and Grant’s team did their best to obey. The chaos of battle was difficult on the most disciplined forces, and many knights who tried to surrender fell to the vicious blades of the infantry.
Grant carved his way to the last remnants of resistance as knights fought on foot. They hunkered behind shields and relied on their thick armor to hold out against Grant’s mercenaries. Duke Ardwick’s banner still flew over this group, and they wouldn’t surrender to anyone.
Broken bodies, shattered shields, and snapped weapons stacked around the last bastion of defense. Combatants on both sides gasped for breath as they clutched their weapons in their fists.
“Duke Ardwick, I’m General Grant Gwydian. I’m authorized to offer you surrender and passage to Prince Dominick.” Grant tore off his helmet and raised his sword over his head.
“We’ll die first,” a knight shouted back, leaning on a two-handed sword.
Grant tossed his helmet to the ground and shrugged. He looked over his shoulder and ordered, “Prepare to fire!”
Ismia saluted and ordered her crews to change elevation and rotate their barrels to the duke’s last stand.
“Load solid shot. Range three hundred,” Ismia shouted so everyone on the battlefield could hear it.
“Ready muskets,” Aleksas commanded. Soldiers moved in unison to obey the commands and prepared their weapons.
Grant ordered the infantry to withdraw fifty yards from the duke’s redoubt.
“You should consult with your officers,” Grant shouted toward the duke. “I’ll give you ten minutes before I give the order to finish this battle.”
Grant’s power burned through his veins as he healed his wounds. The musketeers prepared their weapons, and the soldiers with crossbows readied their cranks to reload.
Ardwick had to see the infantry would not arrive in time to save him. He couldn’t know Lamhas softened the earth around their position to prevent the few surviving horses from riding off with the duke. His situation was helpless.
Several minutes later, the duke raised a white flag.
“General Gwydian, I wish to negotiate the terms of my surrender.”
Grant smiled, and the Arcane Mercenaries cheered.
56
NANTEENE
Dominick issued orders to receive Duke Henry Ardwick’s surrender the following morning. Grant warned the young man not to make a spectacle out of the defeated noble, but the prince summoned his highest-ranking nobles and officers to witness the official ceremony. Carpenters labored with wood, and tailors struggled with their field conditions to create the decorations Dominick expected.
Grant stormed out of Dominick’s camp when he received the orders from the chief of staff to bring an honor guard to the ceremony. The prince thought it would be appropriate for the soldiers who did the fighting to appear at the surrender signing.
Twenty-five thousand soldiers were in the army, and Grant had to produce an honor guard from his four thousand. Ez raised her eyebrow when Grant threw his hat in their tent and muttered his favorite expletives about nobles and bureaucrats.
Sina ended up joining the mercenary with her storm clouds of frustration. Like Grant, she tried to talk the prince out of a spectacle, and he gave her a knowing smile and pressed anyway with the preparations.
Grant considered riding back to Catrin’s tent to get her to intervene, but she retired after the long ride at Dominick’s side. She wasn’t receiving Sina’s aid if the princess was with the mercenaries, and Grant doubted Catrin would help him out of his predicament.
The island campaign ground to a halt with the victory celebrations and the arrival of Dominick’s aristocracy. Grant fretted at the latest intelligence reports, but logic wouldn’t sway the young man.
The queen wouldn’t rest as Dominick commanded a lavish feast for the army. Logisticians swept through the countryside, bargaining with any who would sell their goods. From poultry, fish, livestock, grain, vegetables, and flour, the lands around Coworth yielded a costly bounty. Dominick paid with gold sovereigns, refusing to barter or leave behind cheques for payment.
Many of the duke’s knights requested ransom, and their contributions would pay for the ceremony.
Grant rolled up his maps with practiced efficiency and secured them within his chest after he cooled off. He maintained a strict discipline of keeping documents secured when he was absent. Each parchment found its way into the flames or remained locked away. Grant ensured that his tent would not offer a trove of strategic insight.
