Saviour of the Crown, page 23
A few stray arrows came their way but fell short. It did serve, however, to give his own archers a better idea of the range. The Orc hunters were first to test this, loosing arrows from their warbows in small groups, peppering the enemy. They did no damage, but Heward noticed some Halvarian defenders wavering in their resolve. He hoped the line might even break before contact, but then the empire’s officers moved up, steadying their men.
More Orc arrows flew forth, taking down two Halvarians, and then the enemy line retaliated, striking shields. Though some swearing came from the Norlanders, no one fell.
As the advance continued, the volleys increased in frequency. The first Norland casualty was an archer, and his comrades sent a hail of arrows towards the enemy, though it proved largely ineffective.
The Halvarians directly opposite Heward wore mail, identifying them as imperial troops rather than provincials. He couldn’t decide if that was good or bad, but it definitely meant this fight would be a tough one.
Lanaka sliced down, cutting into the Halvarian’s lightly armoured shoulder. The cavalryman tried to pull his horse back from the assault, but the Kurathian took another swing, his sword striking his foe’s helmet, sliding off to slice into the already damaged shoulder. The enemy’s arm went limp, and he yanked on the reins with the other arm, trying to escape, but the cavalry commander wasn’t in the mood for it. A final strike, a stab this time, finished the fellow off, and then Lanaka steered his mount through the crowd.
He’d begun the attack at dawn, riding into the enemy camp with the sun behind them as planned, taking the legion completely by surprise. He and his men were soon in amongst the siege camp, setting fire to tents and carving their way through the portion of the camp set aside for the mighty siege engines.
The enemy commander-general had reacted quickly, dispatching cavalry to counter the threat, and now there was a running melee surging through their camp like a panicked snake. Chaos reigned, with the Kurathians angling off in random directions, until the resistance finally organized themselves, slowing Lanaka’s progress, but he knew they’d done their part by tying up much of the Halvarian horse.
Thalgrun met the gaze of Malrun Bronzefist, the Master of Revels, and nodded. He, in turn, gave the command, and the great gears controlling the front gate of Ironcliff sprang to life, soundlessly turning.
First, the immense iron bar holding the doors to the Undermountain shut retracted into the walls on the right. With these hidden away, a horn sounded, and the grand double doors began to swing in, daylight flooding the entryway.
They were only half-open when Vard Thalgrun ordered the advance. Four hundred Dwarven warriors moved as one, their weapons in hand, their glorious vard leading the way.
The Halvarians, having sent the majority of their warriors up the side of the mountain, had left little to fend off a counterattack. A smattering of arrows fell in amongst Thalgrun’s guard, rattling their plate armour, but the fearsome Dwarves ignored them.
The sun beat down upon Thalgrun’s face for the first time in weeks as he led his warriors through the ruined outer city of Ironcliff. He approached the shattered gates, while behind him, the Mercerians advanced even as he gazed down into the Halvarian camp.
Clusters of horsemen fought as they rode hither and yon amongst the campfires, while to the west, two long lines of warriors butted up against each other, fighting for supremacy. He risked a quick glance up to where they’d engineered the breach of the mountainside. Gold-plated warriors streamed down the side of the mountain, heading on a parallel course to his own.
This glorious day would cement his legacy as one of the greatest vards to ever sit upon the Throne of Ironcliff!
Gerald waited until the Dwarves passed through the doors from the Undermountain before he nodded to Hayley. The Queen’s Rangers were the first Mercerian troops to exit, breaking off on either side with bows, ready to chase down any enemy warriors lying in wait.
Next, came the footmen, moving at a slower pace than usual to avoid colliding with the Dwarves. There was no finesse to this tactic, merely marching through the outer city, then straight down the grand stairs directly into the enemy’s camp. Ordinarily, this would’ve been suicidal, but with Heward pushing in from the west and Lanaka’s cavalry already keeping the enemy horsemen busy, there was little to oppose them.
A curse off to his right drew his attention. Halvarian crossbowmen, hidden amongst the rubble, were loosing off bolts at the Dwarves in an effort to break their formation. Gerald thought the tactic was futile, for the mountain folk’s plate armour was thick and resistant to such things, but as he was about to dismiss the threat, a hue and cry went up in front of him.
He ordered two of his companies to assist the rangers in clearing out any Halvarians hidden in the debris, then rushed forward, heedless of the danger.
The Dwarven advance had halted, the vard’s personal guards forming a circle. At the marshal’s approach, they closed ranks, but then their captain waved him through.
Thalgrun lay on his back, an arrow protruding from the side of his head, penetrating just below the line of his crown, which he’d insisted on wearing. His death would’ve been easily prevented had he only donned his helmet, but such was not his way.
A great sorrow built up in Gerald, and he cursed aloud. He turned to the Dwarves, ready to take command, but the Dwarven captains had already decided on their reaction. The enemy had slain their vard, and now they would pay the price! The vard’s personal guards moved him aside, and then the Dwarven warriors continued the advance, a low rumble coming from their throats. Gerald stepped aside, trying to understand the sound.
“It’s a death chant,” said one of the vard’s bodyguards. “The enemy has killed our vard—Gundar help any that stand in our way.”
Twenty-Three
Bad News
Summer 968 MC
Beverly moved off the road, allowing the Army of Reinwick to continue without interruption. Twenty-two hundred men, mostly on foot, marched south, supported by three hundred Ashwalkers, although the Orcs preferred to march on either side of the column.
Aubrey soon found her, coming to a halt just as the duke’s knights rode past, Sir Owen amongst them. “I must say,” she began, “I’m a little disappointed. I hoped we’d hear from the Therengians before we marched, but it looks like we’re out of luck on that score.”
“It can’t be helped,” replied her cousin. “There’s no use in delaying the march if we’re too late to help Erlingen.”
“Do you think we’ll get there in time?”
“That largely depends on what’s happening down there.”
“Well,” said Aubrey, “I have some good news on that, at least. A messenger returned this morning informing the duke that the King of Andover will be ready to march as soon as we arrive. It appears everything is now in motion.” She hesitated. “Did we hear anything else about the Temple Fleet?”
“Not yet, but then again, a lot is happening right now. Brother Cyric remained in Korvoran, and he’ll send word letting us know when the admiral decides.”
“I have to admit, it feels good to finally be doing something useful. I don’t know about you, but all that time at court wears me down.”
Beverly chuckled. “You never seemed to mind the court in Wincaster.”
“That’s different; that’s home. Besides which, Queen Anna doesn’t dither. When it’s time to make a decision, she acts, not like this bunch.” She jerked her thumb to indicate the marching army.
“That’s not a fair comparison. The politics here are much more complicated than back home.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Aubrey. “They both involve wars, traditional enemies, and, oh yes, a massive foreign army threatening friendly territory.”
“I stand corrected. Then again, Merceria only has two neighbours, but from what I understand, it’s not unusual for a Petty Kingdom to have five or six. I can’t imagine how difficult that would be to deal with.”
“All I’m saying is it wouldn’t hurt if the Duke of Reinwick was a little more…”
“Decisive?”
“Yes, precisely.”
“He loathes war,” said Beverly, “and I can’t blame him. We’re from a warrior culture, but there’s no such tradition here. It will be interesting to see how this Northern Alliance performs compared to our own army.”
“You led Erlingen to victory. What’s your opinion of them?”
“We won because we were able to take the enemy by surprise. I doubt we’ll be that lucky a second time.”
“But they did win the battle.”
“They did,” replied Beverly, “but I think they would’ve suffered in a more traditional engagement. Erlingen’s warriors have heart, but their overall lack of experience is their weakness, and the same for Reinwick’s men.”
“How do you overcome that?”
“Additional training, but the only true way to stiffen their resolve is for them to win a few battles. Unfortunately, we’re not in a position to make that happen. It’s far more likely this campaign will end in one massive battle. I only hope the men of the Northern Alliance are up to the challenge.” Beverly twisted in the saddle, peering back along the line of march. “You haven’t seen Aldwin, have you?”
“He’s on the other side of the column with the Ashwalkers, along with Krazuhk.” Aubrey hesitated, unsure how to broach a difficult subject.
“It’s not like you to hold back, Cousin. Out with it.”
“The duke’s court is not to his liking.”
“Yes, he mentioned they acted differently when I wasn’t around.”
“They do,” replied Aubrey, “but I don’t think it has to do with him being a smith; it’s his grey eyes.”
Beverly shook her head. “I don’t understand why they’re so focused on eye colour.”
“Those grey eyes mark him as a Therengian, and the Petty Kingdoms’ nobility all fear the once great kingdom re-emerging and enslaving them all.”
“I’ve got news for them; it’s already been reborn, although admittedly far from these lands.”
“Yes, and on paper, at least, it’s allied with Reinwick.”
“Yet they still haven’t come to Reinwick’s aid in the face of Halvarian aggression.”
“I think it’s a bit more complicated than that,” replied Aubrey. “Imagine how much preparation would be involved in supporting an army operating so far from home. Speaking of which, have you seen the back of this column?”
“No. Why?”
“Their idea of supply wagons pales in comparison to what we’re used to.”
“I should’ve thought of that,” admitted Beverly. “I’ve been so involved trying to work out the empire’s strategy, I didn’t think to consider something as basic as feeding the army. I need to have a word with His Grace, the duke. Thank you, Aubrey.”
“For what?”
“For reminding me of what’s important.”
* * *
Temple Commander Marlena stared at the hastily written note that had arrived from Torburg. She looked up at the messenger. “Are you absolutely certain of this?”
“Yes, Commander. The duke’s seneschal gave me this message.”
“Bad news?” asked Lord Hagan.
“It appears we face a new threat. An army has crossed the border and reportedly seized Galmund.”
“Galmund? That’s clear across the other side of the realm. Who’s responsible?”
“It doesn’t say, other than they came from the south and appear to be mostly cavalry. What country borders Galmund?”
“Ulrichen,” replied the baron, “but they’re a poor kingdom, mostly wilderness, with no real army to speak of.”
“I’ve a sinking feeling I know precisely where this army came from.”
“Where?”
“The Antonine. Unless I miss my guess, those horsemen are Temple Knights.”
“That’s good news, isn’t it?”
“Good news?” replied Marlena. “Hardly that. They’re not here to help us, my lord; they’re here to destroy us.”
“Why would you say that?”
The Temple Commander took a steadying breath. “They officially disbanded the Temple Knights of Saint Agnes, then tried to arrest those in the Antonine.”
“The Five Hundred?” said Lord Hagan. “I thought that a myth?”
“I assure you it’s not, and ever since then, the Cunars have been hunting us down.”
“But you prospered in Arnsfeld.”
“As we did in Erlingen, but not every ruler in the Petty Kingdoms will willingly disobey the Church of the Saints. It’s likely the Primus has declared a crusade in the name of eradicating our order, which will swell his ranks with volunteers, allowing him to augment his precious Temple Knights with footmen and archers. This”—she stared down at the note—“is the result.”
“What do we do?”
“There’s only one thing we can do: we march back to Torburg.”
“But the empire is on our doorstep!”
“I’m well aware of our predicament,” said Marlena, “but we have no choice. If we remain here, guarding the frontier, this new threat will advance into our rear, and then we’ll be caught between a hammer and an anvil.”
“The timing is suspect, is it not?”
“Most definitely, but something tells me this is no coincidence. We’ve known for some time that the Antonine was corrupted by the Halvarians. I just never believed it’d come to this.”
“You knew and yet said nothing?”
“I had little choice,” she replied. “If I’d informed you of the true schism within the Church, your duke might’ve sided with the Antonine, and then where would we be? Under the thumb of the empire, that’s where.” She crumpled the note. “Have we a map of Erlingen?”
“Yes, of course.” Lord Hagan moved to a table and then dug through several papers to extract a large scroll. He unrolled it, using cups to secure the corners. “Here you go.”
Marlena moved closer, her mind absorbing all she saw. “How accurate is this?”
“Very. After our last invasion, His Grace, the duke, insisted on sending out men to survey his realm. I doubt, though, that he thought we’d need it so soon.”
“Torburg is roughly halfway between us and Galmund, with only one road between the two. Their most logical strategy would be to force us into a showdown outside the capital, where the Halvarian legions can march and attack us from the rear.” She traced the road with her finger. “Have we received any word from Lady Beverly?”
“Not as yet, Commander.”
“Send a messenger to Andover. Tell the king we’re continuing our withdrawal to Torburg and urgently need their assistance.”
“Even if they marched today, they wouldn’t have enough time to reach us.”
“Then we must take all measures to delay Halvaria’s legions.”
“But what about the Holy Army?”
“They won’t attack until the empire is in position. To do otherwise could end in disaster for them.”
“What makes you say that?” asked Lord Hagan.
“Simple numbers. The Cunar army couldn’t chase down five hundred sister knights. I doubt they have the numbers to face more than two thousand men in battle.”
“You’re taking an incredible risk.”
“I am?” replied Marlena. “The enemy is dictating our moves, not me. If I stand to face Halvaria, the Holy Army will sack Torburg, then squeeze us between the two armies. If I march past Torburg to the Holy Army, then the legions adopt the same tactic. By choosing to retreat to the capital, we at least have the freedom of choice.”
“But you said it yourself—we have no choice!”
“Our choice is to stall for time, time that allows our allies to come to our aid.”
“But we don’t know if they’ll even condescend to send help! As far as we know, they’ll remain behind their borders and wait it out.”
“You must look at the grander scheme. If Andover and Reinwick want their kingdoms to survive, they have little choice but to fight the empire, and it’s far better for them with our numbers on their side than without.”
“Which places a great deal of faith in our potential allies; I only hope it’s warranted.” He paused, raising his eyebrows. “What of the other Cunars? The ones who claim to have joined our cause?”
“I have no reason to doubt the loyalty of Temple Captain Waleed.”
“But he’s a Cunar!”
“Who has forsworn his allegiance to the Antonine and pledged to our cause.”
“How do we know it’s not a ruse meant to lure us in with a false pledge of loyalty? They could turn on us at a moment’s notice, jeopardizing everything!”
“Do you doubt my ability to lead this army?”
“No, of course not,” he replied. “His Grace appointed you himself. I would never doubt his wisdom.”
“Then you, too, must have faith that I will do all within my power to ensure we survive. Now, I suggest you gather your nerve; attacking my strategy does little to aid us in these dark times.”
“I’m sorry. I shall leave you to it, then.” He remained composed as he left, although upon reaching the door, his pace increased.
Sister Johanna stepped into the room, barely avoiding a collision. She watched the baron disappear, then turned to face her commander. “I heard raised voices. Is there a problem?”
“This campaign is nothing but problems, but yes, there’s been a new development. Come over here, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
* * *
Temple Captain Waleed looked over his knights before he turned to regard the Temple Commander. “Well? What do you think?”
The ex-Cunars had donned new surcoats, the traditional grey of their old order replaced by ones of an entirely different colour.
