• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

By Root 627 0

army, a huge and sluggish morass of men, animals, wagons, and war machines cloaked in dust and heat. There was movement everywhere as stores and weapons were brought up and sorted and units jockeyed for position along the army’s front. Siege machines were being assembled and hauled to one side. The army had settled itself about a mile from the valley’s east end, out where it could see any attack being mounted against it, out where it had room to spread and grow. Jerle could feel the uneasiness of the men standing with him. He could sense in Preia’s silence her cold appraisal of their chances. This army that had come to invade their homeland was a juggernaut that would not be turned away easily.

He took a long time to study it after that first glance. He looked at where the supplies and equipment and weapons were being placed. He counted the siege machines and the catapults. He sought out the standards of the companies assembled to fight him and made a rough count of cavalry and foot, both light and heavy.

He watched the approach of several supply trains from out of both the north and south Streleheim. He considered his options carefully.

Then he remounted and rode back to the far end of the valley and called together his commanders and advisors for a council of war.

They gathered in a tent set well back from the front lines of the Elven defense. Home Guard set all about to insure privacy. Pren was there, of course, along with Bremen. Kier Joplin commandeil the horse, and Rustin Apt and Cormorant Etrurian the foot soldiers. There were captains Prekkian and Trewithen, of the Black Watch and Home Guard, respectively. There was one-eyed Am Banda, who commanded the archers. These were the heart of his command, the men on whom he most relied, the men he must convince if they were to have any chance against the army that would come against them.

“Well met, my friends,” he greeted, standing before them, loose and easy, his armor removed now. They were seated in chairs arranged in a wide circle so that he could see or approach any or all if the need arose. “I have been to the head of the valley and seen the army that threatens us. I think our course is clear. We must attack.”

There was a gasp of surprise and dismay, of course — he had expected as much. “At night!” he shouted amid the sudden din “Now!”

Rustin Apt, aging and powerful, so broad and compact it seemed nothing could move him once he set his feet, surged from his chair. “My lord, no! Attack? You can’t be...”

“Careful, Rustin.” The king cut him short with a sharp motion “I can be or do anything in the right situation. You know me well enough. Now, listen a moment. This Northland army languishes before us, fat and bold, thinking itself too big to be trifled with, thinking us safely settled in the protection of our defenses. But it grows and it grows, and our Elven Hunters see this and despair We cannot sit by and do nothing until it grows so big it will swallow us in one gulp. We cannot sit by and wait for the inevitable attack. We must carry the battle to them, now, on our terms, in a time of our choosing, when we are ready and they are not.”

“All well and good,” said Kier Joplin quietly. He was small and compact with quick, dark eyes. “But what part of the army will you use to conduct this assault? Darkness will help, but horsemen will be heard from a long way off and foot soldiers will be cut to pieces before they can retreat to safety.”

There was a muttered assent. Jerle nodded. “Your reasoning follows my own. But suppose the enemy can’t find us? Suppose we become invisible just when they think they have us? Suppose that we attack in sequence, a strike here, a strike there, but give them nothing more than shadows to spar with?”

Now there was silence. “How would you do that?” Joplin asked finally.

“I will tell you. But first I want you in agreement with my thinking. I am convinced we must do something if we are to bolster the army’s confidence in itself. I see it nagging. Am I right in my assessment?”

Silence once more. “You are,” Joplin said finally.

“Kier,