Crusade - James Lowder [131]
"Before the cavalry broke rank, the combination of longbow fire and magic seemed to slow the Tuigan down quite a bit," Alusair said at last. "But that was when they were stopping to lob arrows."
Azoun nodded enthusiastically. "Both those things will be important in the battle," he said. "Arrows and spells can whittle down the number of Tuigan lances and Tuigan swords the infantry will have to turn aside."
"But not stop seventy thousand of them," Brunthar said gloomily. "What about building more blockades to slow the charge down? We won't have the advantage of the hill here. The Tuigan can race pretty much unimpeded to our front rank."
"Good," Azoun said. He motioned to the left and right. "Perhaps we should concentrate on barricades at the edges of the field. That'll narrow down their attack even further."
Vrakk, who had not missed any of the dwarven king's angry looks in his direction, chimed in with a half-sarcastic remark. "Why don't Torg and his dglinkarz dig big hole for Tuigan to fall in?"
The ironlord immediately dropped his hand to his sword. Farl and Brunthar stepped between the dwarf and the orc, and looked to Azoun for guidance.
The king was grinning broadly. "That's it!" he said, though only softly at first.
"Of course!"
The leaders of the Alliance stopped, and even Torg wondered what the king had stumbled upon. Azoun pounded his fist into his other hand and looked around at the dark field. "But not one big hole, Vrakk. Thousands of little ones."
The orcish leader grinned evilly. "Ah! Is good idea!"
Azoun noted the confused look on the faces of his other generals. With the broad smile still on his face, he said, "The arrows and spells were most effective when the Tuigan stopped to fire at us, right?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "So we'll make them stop-or at least slow them down enough to be good targets for the archers and mages."
"Holes," Alusair repeated, comprehension slowly dawning upon her. "We won't put up barricades, we'll dig holes across the field."
The other generals had caught the gist of the plan by now, and they enthusiastically embraced it. By digging a wide band of holes at a distance of fifty yards from the Alliance's lines, the generals could be sure that many of the horses in the Tuigan front ranks would stumble, tossing their riders and slowing down the rest of the charge. In the midst of the animated discussion, Farl slowly shook his head.
"My troops and the dwarves could easily dig the traps overnight," the general said loudly. Everyone stopped and faced the infantry commander.
"But what makes you think the Tuigan are foolish enough to charge such an obvious trap?"
The king turned to the royal wizard. "Well, Vangy?"
For the first time that evening, a smile crept onto the wizard's age-withered face. He patted his beard, now more white than gray, and said, "Even Elminster could disguise a field full of holes. It'll be easy-though the casting will take some of our wizards away from the battle."
"That's no problem," Azoun concluded, clapping his hands together. "The illusion need only be maintained long enough for the first wave of riders to hit it."
The matter settled, the king and his advisors talked long into the evening, reviewing troop strengths and establishing battle plans to cover every contingency they could dream up. The moon, partly covered by clouds, was shining as brightly as it could when the meeting finally ended.
Farl went off to double the watch on the perimeter, so that Tuigan spies would not see the dwarves hard at work in the field. Despite his annoyance at the orc for suggesting a plan that utilized his troops, Torg was enthusiastic about the task that lay ahead. He knew his troops would perform exactly as required. The other generals said good evening, too. Azoun and Alusair knew that Vrakk, Brunthar, and Vangerdahast would sleep little that night, but bade them good