Chapter 25: The Battle for the Shield Lands
The afternoon sun was beginning its descent as the army hurried to complete its final preparations. For two days they had marched quickly to cover the remaining miles between them and the army that waited for them. All of the troops had recovered from their wounds thanks to the healing power of the gods and their clerics. The mens' swords were sharpened and ready, their armor repaired. The scouts had confirmed just an hour before that the enemy sat within a few miles of their position, seemingly still nursing their wounds and attempting a slow, orderly retreat back into the northern lands held by their master.
The men of the west intended they never make it there.
Beowulf tested the edge of his hunting knife with his thumb as he stood near Ash, listening as the cleric began giving battle orders to his troops. Satisfied of its sharpness, he slid it back into its sheath, absently noting the heavier counter-weight of the sword that hung on his hip. The night before, he had been given one of the terminator's broadswords by Ash. The man had explained that while he hadn't had the time to get one crafted for him, it would serve him well in the future should he need it. Beowulf had been very eager to test the sword's keen edge against an opponent, or even an opportune block of wood, but Ash had cheerfully restrained him. The Gnoll still marveled at its somewhat lighter weight due to the mixture of 'exotic' metals used to forge it and its perfect balance was also a very pleasant surprise compared to the normal steel blades he was used to wielding. The weapon was seemingly crafted out of super-strong silver and chrome. The pommel was fan-shaped and solid while the grip was wrapped with a curious kind of leather he had never encountered before. The blade was double-edged and perfectly straight with a clean, perfectly straight line etched down the center. A few small runes were engraved into the metal at the base of the blade just above the upward slanting cross-guards.
The moment he had held the blade in his hands, Beowulf had realized this was a masterwork by any standard and he was determined to treat it with the utmost respect. He amused himself for a moment, thinking he would need to make sure it was fed well.
The blood of the enemy is a most excellent meal for a blade, after all. He reasoned. It is only right that this blade be given only the best. Perhaps a Commander or the enemy's General will suffice…
Chuckling darkly to himself, Beowulf walked over to where Ash and Davis were standing. Dismissing the troops, Ash turned to Beowulf and noted the happy grin on his face.
"I'm beginning to wonder if I did the right thing, giving you that sword." Ash remarked with a smile. "I think you love that thing more than Alisha."
Beowulf snorted, glaring at him for a moment before the sound of horns rang out across the camp.
"Last call, gentlemen." Ash stated briskly. "Time to earn our pay and kick some ass."
Beowulf grinned in anticipation as the trio walked over to where the columns of men and machines were forming. As they neared their group, another set of horns blared and the columns towards the end of the miles long row began to move out, marching north and south. The columns next to them, including the General's battalion, soon followed suit as the army began to march in a slowly expanding open circle many miles wide. Ash's group and the ones nearby began to march east in a straight line. In time, if all went as planned, the northern and southern arms of the half circle would surround the enemy while still out of their sentry's visual range and meet each other a few miles east of the enemy's position. Once surrounded, the men would then close upon them like a tightening fist from which there would be no escape.
The day progressed slowly and without incident as scouts continued to provide reports on enemy contacts and their relative position. Thanks to the wonders of wireless communication, Davis was able to coordinate with many of the other terminators in the nearby groups to ensure they were keeping in formation and proceeding on schedule though the miles separating the extreme edges of the army made communication with those units impossible. Davis' main body, with its more powerful communications array would have been able to handle the distance but sadly it was still on Earth. Finally, as dusk neared the army's clerics reported via messenger spell that the divisions were in position two miles from the edge of the army's outer sentry perimeter. The men waited anxiously as the sun behind to set. Finally, as the last rays of the sun disappeared beyond the horizon and twilight began, Ash and the others gave the order to march. Long range sentries and scouts were cut down quickly and silently by their opposite numbers to ensure the element of surprise until the very last moment. As the circle of death closed, the remaining terminators finally came within broadcast range of each other. Swiftly sending out databurst requests to each other and to Davis on their positions, the General and Commanders quickly concluded the army's divisions were in proper positions and ready to engage. Finally, the outer ring of sentry guards came within the terminators' visual range. The machines quickly provided this information to each of the acting Commanders within the separate division ranks who then ordered the men to ready their weapons.
Suddenly, horns blared urgently from the enemy's camp. Realizing the element of surprise was gone, the General quickly gave the order to charge. In one great mass, the army surged forward with a roar that shook the very air. Many of the sentries attempted to run back to the camp only to be cut down by archers as a massive wave of steel overcame them. After several moments, the army reached the edge of the camp itself. Tents were sliced apart and trampled under metal-shod feet, some with their occupants still inside, staining the rough cloth crimson as they were pulverized. Soldiers quickly donned armor, grabbed weapons, and joined their comrades in a desperate attempt to cut down the invaders. The haphazard defenders hurled themselves at the line of terminators only to find that the machines did not even pause in their charge as they slammed their shields against their foes or blocking their blows with ruthless efficiency before stabbing or cutting them down with their own blades before using their momentum to trample them.
Suddenly, hundreds of voices rang out in unison from all around the camp.
"DEATH HAS COME FOR YOU THIS NIGHT! OUR ARMOR IS STRONG AND OUR STEEL IS LIGHT!"
"DO NOT RESIST! YOU CANNOT HOLD! THIS DAY YOUR DEATH HAS BEEN FORETOLD!"
The terminators swung their swords and blood flew in great gouts, splashing against their chrome-like armor, turning it crimson.
"WE ARE THE FUTURE, STRONG AND BRIGHT! NONE CAN STAND AGAINST OUR MIGHT!"
As the army forced its way through the mass of tents a great circle of opposition began to grow around the center of camp, pushing back against the machines. Finally, the crowd became so thick that even their vaunted strength could not push them forward any further and the advance ground to a halt. Still attempting to press forward, their blades continued to swing and slash as they chanted their battle hymns.
Suddenly, the enemy troops shifted into long columns revealing rows of ballista that had been hidden behind them. Before Ash or the other Commanders could give an order, massive steel lances launched from the machines, smashing into the terminators. The long metal rods burst through their armor, impaling them and causing the front line to stagger. Seconds later, the machines exploded in an enormous blast of fire and liquefied metal, their power cells overloaded from the stress. Ash and the others quickly dove to the ground as super-heated metal shards whizzed overhead.
Unfortunately, the front-liners were not as lucky.
Dozens of men cried out as scalding metal shrapnel tore into flesh and armor just before an inferno engulfed them. Once again the ballistae fired and many of the second line of terminators fell, exploding in a similarly spectacular fashion as their heads and other body parts few in all directions. The entire front line of the army's advance had suddenly become an incredible firestorm with hundreds of men burning and dying in moments. The few that survived recoiled in horror at the sight they beheld as the machine's gleaming skeletal faces and glowing red eyes leered at them, their seemingly human skin having melted and burned in the intense heat. The enemy's mages quickly counterattacked with their own spells, launching fireballs and bolts of chain lightning into the demoralized forces. The newly engorged firestorm killed scores more before the men attempted to retreat in a desperate attempt to keep away from the flames. His ears ringing from the blasts, Ash staggered to his feet. Desperate to regain control of what was quickly becoming a rout, he turned to his men.
"HOLD FAST!" He cried. "DRIVE THEM BACK AND GIVE THEM HELL!"
He quickly turned to the men nearby. "ARCHERS! FIRE ON THE MAGES AND BALLISTA! MAGES! DESTROY THOSE MACHINES!"
A chorus of affirmations followed a moment later as the air was filled with arcane chanting. Several seconds later a multitude of fireballs erupted from the hands of the mages, flying into the sky and turning the darkening twilight into day. Mages on the opposite side quickly erected barriers to defend themselves from the massive assault, causing the fireballs to impact with a loud 'whumph' and a burst of flames against the magical shields, straining them. Ash's mages launched another volley and large storms of meteorites fell from the heavens, pummeling the shields. Several of the mages, overcome by the ferocity of the attacks, felt to the strain of keeping their shields maintained, the barriers flickering out and fading. Bones snapped and armor dented as the large rocks fell upon the soldiers caught in the onslaught. The other Commanders quickly followed suit and the air became filled with arcane energies and spells of all types from storms of ice and fire to noxious clouds of gas poured down upon their enemies. Ash himself had quickly cast his most powerful spells into the center of the resistance with acidic rain and bolts of lightning pouring down upon them and still the shields held.
Seeing their mages strained to their limits, the enemy General ordered the soldiers to form up in a series of enormous wedges as their few available mages blasted the flames before them with water, dampening them. With a terrific cry, the wedge formations charged forward, smashing into the weakened front line. Bereft of their seemingly invincible wall of steel, the enemy's swords and axes cut a bloody swathe through the men, their attackers now completely on the defense, as hails of arrows rained down from both sides. More ballista shot was quickly fired into the air at steep angles from various points around the camp, smashing into the center of the mass of troops desperately trying to hold the line. Clenching his fist in frustration but unable to press his men any harder, Ash could only watch as his men continued to get pushed back. Finally, he called out to Davis.
"Where is the General? What are his orders?!"
"Barely holding the line on the other side of the army!" Davis shouted. "All remaining units are reorganizing themselves into a comm network for the Commanders! Hold on!"
Davis's eyes flashed blue for a moment before he turned back to Ash.
"He's ordering full retreat and regroup! Near as I can tell, we're down at least a third of our strength! Long range fire support is virtually nil! Best we could get is some covering fire!"
Ash nodded, projecting his voice to be heard over the din. "ARCHERS! MAGES! COVERING FIRE! ALL UNITS FALL BACK! FALL BACK!"
Ash and Beowulf quickly mounted their horses, letting the men flow around them as they attempted to escape from their attackers. Focusing his power, Ash threw his hands wide and blazing firestorm erupted from them, spreading out in a rough wall to hinder the enemy's advance. Wheeling his horse, Ash quickly galloped away, Beowulf a moment behind him on his own steed with Davis running at full tilt to keep up with them. After several minutes, Davis called out to Ash.
"Orders from the General! Regroup 3 miles west of our current position! The rest of the army is heading to the same spot! Standard defensive formation!"
Ash quickly acknowledged the order before shouting out instructions to his Captains. The men quickly complied and began to call out to the Sergeants who attempted to instill discipline into the vast mob. Slowly, the men began to organize themselves into ranks with Ash and the Captains behind them to ward off any attackers.
About an hour and a half later Ash and his men arrived at the rendezvous point to find the some of the men had already arrived. The soldiers were quickly forming themselves into thick lines with the former front-liners being moved back to the rear of the defenses, allowing them a chance to recuperate. Ash quickly noticed Commander Caruthers directing some of the men and rode up to him. Dismounting, he quickly hurried over.
"What's the situation?" Ash asked quickly.
Caruthers frowned at him before pulling him aside. "The situation, as you put it, is completely balls-up!" He hissed. "Why the hell didn't you tell us those damn knights of yours would explode like a damn fireball when they got hit?! Do you know how many men we lost because of it? Look at the men! Their courage is hanging by a thread right now!"
Ash grimaced. "I didn't expect them to fire ballista into the front lines! I'd figured all of their long range shot had been used up in the siege at Critwall!"
Caruthers rubbed his face in frustration. "Apparently so did the General. Stupid! Now instead of wrapping this up all nice and tidy, we're the ones taking the pummeling!"
"How many men do we have?" Ash asked.
"Reports are still coming in." Caruthers replied tiredly. "Thankfully, those knights of yours make damn good messengers. Near as I can figure, we lost at least a thousand men in that attack and most of our mages are just about out of spells. If we can give the men enough quiet time and rest we should be able to mount a counterattack with our remaining forces."
"And if not?" Ash asked.
Caruthers sighed. "Then we dig in, point our weapons forward, and hope they don't have any fancy tricks up their sleeves. At least they can't move the ballistas too far too fast and their mages are probably as worn out as ours."
Ash nodded with a sigh. As the Commander turned back to his men, Ash relayed what had been discussed with Beowulf and Davis. An hour passed and then another as more men poured into the area. Finally the General and his group arrived. Taking stock of the men, he quickly called the Commanders together for an impromptu meeting in a hastily erected tent. As Ash and the others filed in, the man stood before them, his face thunderous as his beard bristled with anger.
"Now that we're all here, would someone like to tell me what in the hell happened out there tonight?!" He demanded.
"It was those damn knights of Walter's!" One of them shouted angrily. "The damn things blew up in our faces like a barrel of flash powder the minute they got hit! I thought you said those things couldn't be damaged!" The man accused Ash.
"In my defense I never said they were indestructible." Ash replied irritably. "They are hardy and strong and in a normal battle they would be superior to the soldiers they were facing. But even they can be beaten as you saw." The cleric sighed. "I will admit that I didn't expect them to use siege weapons in such a manner."
"That plan was yours, Commander!" The General snarled. "I approved it on the understanding that your men could hold the line as you promised! Instead they did more damage than the enemy did!"
Ash turned to face the General, scowling. "With all due respect, sir, none of us were told that the enemy still had significant amounts of useable siege weapons. Had I known that, I might have recommended a different plan!" He replied hotly.
The two men continued to glare at each other silently for a moment until Beowulf stepped forward between them.
"Instead of blaming each other for tonight's defeat, should we not focus our energies on making sure the living remain so?" He asked firmly, looking from one to the other with narrowed eyes. "Or do we plan to stand here and bicker until the enemy is in our faces again?"
The General glared at Beowulf's presumption before he took several calming breaths, schooling himself.
"Loathe as I am to admit it, the Gnoll is right." He stated tightly. "Do we have a reliable head count yet?"
Davis stepped forward. "We are still getting tallies but from the information I have so far, we have just over 3,500 men on site. How many of them are fit for combat remains to be seen, but most of them are mobile and can hold a sword if need be."
The General nodded. "For the time being, I want every able-bodied scout out in the field. If the enemy so much as twitches I want to know about it. I want every cleric, and that includes you Commander, going around and healing up the men as fast as you can. Get the wounded back on their feet but make sure you heal the least wounded first."
"Sir!" Ash protested. "Surely you're not suggesting—"
"We need men who can fight, Commander!" The General retorted sharply. "Don't spend all your energies trying to heal men who won't be able to fight even after you heal them! If we, and they, survive the rest of the night then we'll do what we can for them but right now, I need every man we can spare! Are we clear?!"
"Crystal, sir." Ash replied frostily, glaring at the man.
Nodding, the General turned to the other Commanders. "Right then. Get the supply trains unloaded with all the wood and metal we have. I want to get this area fortified as best we can. I don't care if all we can build is pointy wooden barricades, at least it'll be something. Also, someone send word to Admun, their city is about 10 miles south of here. If they won't send troops our way, at least see if we can fall back to their position in case we're overrun again. Their fortress should at least provide a safe haven for a while. Does anyone else have anything else that needs to be discussed right now?"
The men shook their heads.
"Very well. See to your men. Dismissed!" The General ordered.
The men filed out, several of them glaring at Ash as they went by. The trio walked out of the tent and over to where their men had located themselves. The terminator attached to the unit as well as the unit Captains walked up and saluted.
"Orders sir?" The terminator asked.
"Organize all of the wounded." Ash replied roughly. "Reverse triage priority so that the lightly wounded are sent first. Stabilize the more serious as best you can but divine healing is not available to them at this time."
As the Captains began to protest, Ash held up his hands defensively. "I don't like it any more than you do but that's the General's orders. Fighting men are more vital right now than men who may not last the night anyway. Have the mages bed down somewhere where they can rest and prepare spells without being interrupted. Everyone else is on supply train duty. Any kind of fortification we can build is approved, I don't care how unlikely it is. The enemy is on our heels and I for one would like to send them packing!"
The men nodded grimly with a salute before turning back to the men. Turning his back to them, Ash stalked back into the empty command tent, the other two following on his heels. Finally alone, he let his face fall, rubbing it in frustration.
"Damnit." He muttered. "The whole plan shot to hell because I didn't anticipate this! The General sure as hell won't trust me after this and the men might not either. How can I look them in the eye now?"
Beowulf rested a hand on his shoulder. "No man is perfect, Alpha." He said softly. "Even the General did not anticipate what happened. Have you yourself not said that no plan survives contact with the enemy? This is not the first time our backs have been at the wall."
Ash sighed. "Maybe not, but last time the men didn't blow up and kill our own people."
"You will lead us to victory yet, Alpha." Beowulf said fervently. "I am sure of it."
Ash smiled slightly, patting Beowulf's hand. "The General will lead us, you mean."
"Of course." Beowulf replied though his tone suggested otherwise.
Scrubbing his face with his hands, Ash turned to Davis. "Let me know if anything comes up. I have healing to do."
Turning, Ash stalked out of the tent. As the wounded began to collect nearby Ash went to meet them, his healing touch blessing each of them though his heart longed to heal those who suffered even more. Hours passed as the men hurriedly erected crude wooden barricades while others quickly repaired armor and weapons. Ash had just finished healing his men when one of the other soldiers ran up to him.
"Sir! The General has ordered all Commanders report to his tent immediately for a meeting."
Ash nodded. "Thank you soldier." The man saluted with a nod before scurrying off. Ash turned to Beowulf. "Hold down the fort until I get back. This shouldn't take too long. Davis, with me."
The two nodded, Davis falling in step with Ash as Beowulf turned back to the men, overseeing their efforts. A few moments later, Ash quickly strode into the tent. The hours of work and planning seemed to have calmed the General some, though his mood still appeared somewhat dark. As soon as the rest of the Commanders filed in, he began to speak.
"We all have a lot of work yet to do so I'll keep this brief. We finally received word from Admun. They're sending a few hundred men to help bolster our defense. It's not much but every little bit helps. Furthermore, they have agreed to allow us to use the fortress as a fallback position. It's only about 10 miles so if need be we can get there within a day. Since we're all here, is there anything else to report?"
"The enemy should be here within two hours." One of the men reported. "It seems they took their time in getting everything together but they are on the move. Thankfully they decided to leave those damn ballistas behind."
"Makes sense." Muttered another, glaring over at Ash. "They don't need them now."
"Focus gentlemen." The General insisted. "What else is there?"
"We've managed to get some spiked barricades setup around the edge of the camp but it's not going to do much good if they manage to get behind us." One of the other Commanders stated.
The General nodded as several other Commanders reported on their wounded and the amount of battle ready men they had. Finally the General turned to Ash.
"You've been very quiet so far Commander." The General noted, his gaze sharp. "Have you anything to say?"
Ash stood. "I have been thinking about our situation and I believe I have idea that may help thin their ranks somewhat."
The General raised an eyebrow at this. "You're either very brave or very stupid Commander, but do go ahead. I'd love to hear this one."
Ash quickly outlined his plan and after several minutes of discussion, it was reluctantly approved. The meeting broke up immediately afterward. Hurrying to his battalion, Ash quickly called together the Captains and Beowulf, explaining his orders to them. As the hour wore on, the men worked feverishly to complete the meager defenses and organize themselves into a solid defensive line. As pre-dawn light began to filter over the horizon, a horn call was heard coming from the south. As the men watched, rows of soldiers marched towards their position, four hundred strong, bearing the heraldry of Admun. The General quickly went out to meet the Commander in charge, advising them of their situation and ordering them outside the barricades as part of the front line. Scouts soon began reporting that the army was only a mile from their position and closing. Ordering the regiment of scouts back to the barricades, the men formed themselves up in their final positions as a massive outward facing ring, the segmented barricades forming a barrier between the front line troops and their reinforcements with the mages and commanders in the center.
As he looked out over the men the General turned to Ash. "I hope to hell this plan of yours works Commander. We won't survive another debacle like the last one."
Ash looked at the man frankly. "Sir, if things do go pear-shaped again, I'll be laying right alongside you in the dirt. If nothing else we can take comfort in the fact that Celestia and all its glory awaits us."
The man nodded bleakly as the enemy's front ranks slowly appeared in front of the rising sun.
"They timed this nicely, having the sun at their back." Davis noted. "The sunlight will get in our eyes."
The General nodded absently as the massive line of troops grew nearer and nearer. Sitting on his horse, Ash stared intently ahead, focusing his enhanced vision upon the formations of men, occasionally muttering information to Davis. Finally he turned to the General.
"Phase one, thirty seconds. Mark."
The General shouted an order and the men made ready to fire.
"20 seconds." Ash muttered.
"10."
"Now!" Ash cried.
"PHASE ONE FIRE!" The General shouted.
A barrage of fireballs leapt into the sky from the center of the circle, arcing over the battlefield towards the incoming army. Magical barriers were quickly raised but the fireballs seemingly slipped through them without resistance. An instant before they struck the soldiers, Davis's eyes briefly glowed blue.
Receiving their orders and obeying within a fraction of a second, the remaining terminators who had been buried in the ground and covered over not an hour before self-destructed.
Enormous blasts of fire and metal flew through the air as the ground exploded from underneath the feet of the enemy just as the illusionary fireballs cast by the General's mages expanded outward, mixing with the explosions. Groups of men were thrown into the air as plasma and super-heated Titanium lanced through flesh, ripping great holes in the once organized forces. The core command group toward the rear of the army was completely annihilated, vanishing in a flash of heat and light, the terminator having been resting just below their feet as Ash had seen with his enhanced sight. The magical barriers flickered and vanished, the mages concentration badly shaken due to the carnage.
The General smiled grimly at the chaos before him. "Payback is a bitch, isn't it?" He muttered. "ALL MAGES! PHASE TWO! FIRE!"
Another volley of fireballs, this time the genuine articles, raced across the field, slamming into the front lines and bowling men over as flames engulfed them. The enemy mages and clerics struggled to put the fires out quickly as sheets of conjured water appeared over the men, showering them.
"PHASE THREE!" The General shouted.
For a few seconds arcane chanting filled the air. On the other side of the battlefield, flesh appeared to melt and deform on the faces of many of the injured men as they struggled to rise, an unholy light entered their eyes. Others saw their fellows transformed into twisted creations of nightmares, abounding in razor-sharp fangs, spiny ridges, and covered in scales as black as the abyss. Panicking, the soldiers around them quickly began cutting them down to protect themselves, fearing the men had succumbed to their wounds and were being raised as undead by the enemy or transformed into horrible aberrations. With the overall command structure destroyed and fears of being attacked from within, the army began to turn on itself.
Ash smiled, turning to the General. "I do believe it's time, sir."
The General returned the smile. "I agree, Knight Errant."
"CHARGE!" The General bellowed.
The forces of Admun and the General's own combined forces charged forward with a great cry, closing the distance between the two armies swiftly and smashing into the burnt and disheveled front line. Attempting to keep order, the lower officers quickly sounded horn calls across the battlefield, reforming the lines and tightening the gaps made by the explosive machines.
After about twenty minutes of observation, Ash caught the General's attention. "Sir! The charge is starting to bog down, neither side are gaining any significant ground and the line is starting to waver. I suggest forming up another group to take over the assault and ensure the enemy doesn't get a breather."
The General nodded in consideration before turning to one of the other Commanders around him. "Caruthers! You and Walters get your men out there! Form up ranks and bolster the counter-attack! Give our men a break!"
The two men saluted with Ash and Beowulf quickly galloping over to their battalion. The Captains quickly came up to him and saluted. "Orders sir?"
"We're being sent in as the next attack wave along with Caruther's men!" Ash informed them. "Get the men in position! Open columns down the line!"
"Yes sir!" They shouted, racing back to their groups. Ash looked over at Beowulf who watched the battle with a hungry look on his face.
"We're not common soldiers any more, my friend." Ash commented. "We must let others do the fighting now."
Beowulf glanced over at him before returning his eyes to the formation before him. "I am a warrior and a Gnoll, Alpha." Beowulf replied. "The desire for battle and death sings in my blood. Fortunately, my mind is stronger. You needn't fear any antics from me."
"Of course, my friend." Ash smiled. As he finished speaking, Caruther's group finished formed up beside them, each long column of men separated by a few yards of open space allowing the current front line to fall back between the lines and eventually behind them. A horn call echoed across the battlefield from Caruther's side, signaling the men to move out. Ash motioned to his own man and the signaler raised his horn to his lips, blowing a long note. The men began to march swiftly over the terrain in response to the call. Hearing the horn calls, the Commander in charge of the first wave quickly ordered his men to prepare for a fall back. As the columns neared, the advancing troops brought their shields up while the fatigued front liners quickly retreated through the ranks. The fresh troops quickly closed the gaps in their ranks as the enemy attempted a ragged charge, hoping to catch the men in the middle of their change in formation. Blades and axes crashed against steel shields as the new forces began to hack away at their opponents. At Ash's call, lightning bolts and blasts of fiery embers were fired into the enemy's ranks at various points, causing groups of them to fall back and weaken the line as Ash's men quickly flanked them. Finally the enemy's resolve broke and the rear lines began to rout with the men in front of them quickly following.
"SEE HOW THEY FLEE BEFORE OUR MIGHT!" Ash shouted. "BRING THEM DOWN!"
Horn calls and encouragements rang out across the field, urging the men to advance as they pushed harder to break through the lines. As columns of men fought their way deeper into the enemy's ranks they began to rout en masse, desperate to escape. Ash and Caruthers kept up the attack, surrounding the remaining forces and tearing them down with the aid of the original first wave. Finally, a great cheer arose from the men as the last of the enemy died. The men slapped each other on the back and smacked their swords against their shields in a great clamor of rejoicing. Sergeants and Captains slowly directed their men back to the barricades as Caruthers rode over to Ash and Beowulf.
"A solid victory!" Caruthers exclaimed. "I scarcely dared hope but your tactics were sound!"
Ash smiled. "I'm just grateful it worked. King Thrommel has his victory now. That will surely make him popular with the nobles."
"Bah! I'm just glad we made it in one piece." Caruthers snorted. "I leave the politics to my betters. Care to join me for a glass of wine after we get the men sorted out?"
Ash shook his head. "Not this time." He replied heavily. "I have other duties to perform."
Seeing Ash's long face, the Commander merely nodded before galloping back to his own battalion. Ash looked over at Beowulf. "Take care of the men. I have things to attend to."
Beowulf nodded as Ash galloped away toward the camp. As the afternoon sun blazed overhead, the troops went about the grisly task of burning the bodies while Ash moved about, healing those who needed his aid. Ash's heart clenched at seeing the state of some of his men that had been left to suffer during the night as he used the power of his god to heal them.
"I'm sorry I was so long in coming, but I am here now." He would mutter to them softly as gentle healing magic flowed from his hands, mending flesh and bone. "Rest and be at ease in the power of Pelor. Let your pain and suffering be forgotten like the wisps of nightmare that fade with the dawn of a new day, for my Lord is tender and His power great. Let your minds be restored, your vision cleared of anguish and doubt, for you yet live by His grace."
Though most did not answer him, lost in their own pain and delirium as he worked, a few of the older soldiers gripped his arm, affirming their understanding as they muttered hoarse thanks. Though Ash did not attempt to explain his lateness, he could see in their eyes that they knew the truth. Orders were orders and even a healer devoted to preserving life did not dare cross General Marius if he ordered their hands to be stayed. They had all seen the difficult choices their Commanders needed to make in order to ensure their survival, even if it meant they suffer in pain and anguish. Such was the fate of a soldier and these few at least had accepted that fate.
Finally as the afternoon sun dwindled, going down beyond the horizon, Ash wearily stood from his last healing, his power all but spent. Returning to the tent he and Beowulf had pitched earlier in the day after the battle he flopped to the ground, moaning quietly as he stretched out. Grabbing a piece of jerky and his water flask from his pack, he drank deeply before sprinkling some over his face, scrubbing it. As he gnawed the dried meat and sipped at the water, he let his mind wander aimlessly for several minutes before Davis poked his head into the tent.
"Sorry to disturb your siesta, but the General has ordered another meeting."
Ash rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I'll be there in a moment." He muttered.
Davis nodded, retreating. Ash wearily stood and brushed himself off before making his way to the command tent. Beowulf, Davis, and several of the other Commanders were there as well with the others filing in after Ash. As the men seated themselves, the General strode in and turned to face them.
"I realize we're all tired so I'll make this brief. First of all, I'd like to commend Commander Walters on his excellent tactics this afternoon."
A few tired claps were heard as the General continued. "You may have not made a good first impression with me due to your first plan of attack, but you made up for it with the second. I see now how you manage to turn the tide of battle like you do. Unconventional tactics and surprise attacks." The General nodded appreciatively. "Well done, Commander, and well done all of you as well. The counter-attack went off without a hitch and we massacred them! The King will be very pleased."
He looked around to the rest of the group. "That being said, we still have a lot of work to do though it can wait for tomorrow. I received orders from the King to remain here for a week or two to ensure the enemy doesn't have any more surprises up their sleeves or tries to renew the siege at Critwall with other forces. Given what we've seen today I doubt that will happen."
"Has there been any other intelligence regarding the enemy's forces?" Ash asked.
The General shook his head. "Nothing out of the north. So far everything seems—"
"Sir!" A messenger said, poking his head into the tent. "My apologies, sir, but this just came through via messenger! Said it was extremely urgent!"
The General frowned, walking over and taking the missive from the man's hand. Examining the seal, he opened it and read the contents, his face darkening before he dismissed the man with a nod. As he turned back to the Commanders, Ash was disturbed by the grim look in the man's eyes.
"Men." He said wearily. "It's seems I was wrong. We're to move out as soon as we're able."
"What's happened sir?" Caruthers asked.
"Nyrond's capital of Rel Mord has been sacked and its King is dead." Marius replied heavily. "Ivid has finally made his move."
As the men murmured anxiously at the news, Ash spoke up. "What of Nyrond's army?" He asked, puzzled. "They've been able to keep Ivid's forces at bay before. What changed?"
"The message didn't say." The General replied. "But the only way that Rel Mond could have fallen is if their army was routed completely or destroyed. If so…"
"We've got problems." Ash finished gloomily. "How many forces can Nyrond command?"
"At their best? Eight thousand battle hardened troops." The General stated grimly.
The men looked at each other in dismay.
"No army in centuries has been vast enough to overcome such a force." One muttered softly, seemingly to himself but the others heard it.
"We cannot defeat them by force of arms." Another groaned. "If Ivid overran Rel Mord and its armies, no one can stop him!"
"I won't hear that kind of talk!" The General barked. "Not from any of you! The situation is grim, yes! But we do not have all the facts. For now, I will be sending a message to the King for further orders. Until then you will keep your mouths shut! I don't want a whisper of this getting to the men, is that clear?"
A chorus of affirmatives answered. The General nodded. "Very well then. We'll reconvene when I have new instructions. Dismissed!"
The men slowly filled out, a few seemingly in shock. As the trio walked out of the command tent, they wandered over to an empty area to talk amongst themselves.
"What do we do now?" Davis asked.
Ash sighed. "We wait. Don't forget we are still attached to the General. If the King tells him to march, so do we."
"What do you know about Ivid and how he fights?" Beowulf asked.
Ash shook his head. "Ivid's forces have never been a major concern from what the Canon told me. He was no strategist and he never waged war with any real goal in mind apart from watching people get massacred from the sidelines."
Davis frowned. "Then something must have changed. Something significant. Question is, what?"
"No one knows what Ivid has been up to for a long while." Ash replied. "Even the sight of the gods has been blinded. It seems whatever they have been cooking up in there has finally been unleashed."
"Eight thousand men!" He muttered to himself. "He has the manpower to overwhelm them, his kingdom is vast enough. But they've always been so disorganized! He's never let his Generals have free rein when they're ordered into battle, they have to follow his orders exactly or they face execution."
"How do you know this?" Beowulf asked.
"Defectors mostly." Ash admitted. "The Canon confided in me that a few higher ranking officers and minor nobles had come to Veluna for asylum over the years. But now…"
"Ivid finally got clever." Davis remarked.
Ash nodded morosely as he stared up into the twilight sky. "Pelor help us all."
This chapter was re-beta-ed on 2/26/13.