by Brian Murray
“Aye, sir,” said the captain as he rushed off, shouting orders.
“Thade, Tanas, we will need to place ourselves to ensure the men are spread evenly. Thade, you take the western side and you, Tanas, take the eastern side. Corporal Calac. . .”
“Yes sir.”
“Where are the men in the black armour?”
“I believe they are to the south sir.”
“Thank you.”
“Gammel!” called Dax.
“Aye,” answered the big blacksmith, carrying his long sword.
“Can you cover the northern wall? Zane and I will cover the southern wall and the gates.”
Gammel’s eyes darkened, but he did not complain – he knew he would get his revenge.
The men split up and hurried to their designated positions. The Kharnacks charged with an intense ferocity. Within minutes, they raised their scaling ladders and were trying to climb the walls. The defenders picked off the charging Kharnacks with arrows and crossbow bolts but as there was no time to replenish their supplies, they soon ran out and had to resort to either swords or axes.
It was going to be a long night.
***
The king’s forces met up with the Chosen a couple of hours after leaving Teldor. As they continued their march their numbers started to swell. First, the light cavalry joined the Royal Lancers, then their heavy cavalry.
The Rhaurien light cavalry resembled the Royal Lancers; they carried one curved cavalry sword, a crossbow, and a small shield. The heavy cavalry was the battering ram of the force; their massive horses were armoured; head, front; and flanks covered in steel. The horsemen were also armoured, and carried a lance and curved cavalry sword. To save the horses, their armour and those of their riders was carried in wagons, wrapped in oiled canvas, until needed. The Rhaurns now marched with a total of five thousand horsemen and several hundred reserve horses.
Careful planning and organisation for the march was paramount. All men and beasts had to be fed and watered regularly, so General Brooks and his officers carefully controlled the supply chain. In the lush, rolling hills of the Kingdom this was not a problem, but it would be down to the skill and knowledge of the Chosen and General Gordonia once the army reached the Steppes.
The army camped south of the Dashnar Forest after they passed through the Glass Mountains. They had sent ahead two companies of Royal Lancers to scout for a suitable location. Once found, one of the companies would scout further ahead while the other marked out the camp area. When the other cavalrymen arrived they would dig a defensive trench around the campsite. By the time the foot soldiers arrived, the camp was ready for tents to be pitched. When the supply wagons approached, the trench bridge was built, tents raised, and the horse pickets set. The layout of the camp always remained the same: the king’s tent was placed in the centre, surrounded by the Royal Lancers’ tents, then horse pickets next and the rest of the men’s tents. In enemy territory the camp would differ by the erection of a defensive wall of some description, either earth and/or wood, to give the resting army more protection.
That night, General Brooks waited in his tent for General Gordonia to arrive. Brooks put out two goblets and a jug of watered wine. The call came and the senior Imperial Guard of the Chosen of the Phadrine entered the tent.
“General Brooks, I must congratulate your men on the creation of the campsite,” commented Gordonia.
“Thank you, General. Each man knows his role and the duties are rotated for fairness.”
“I would make one suggestion.”
“And what would that be, General?” asked Brooks, hiding his annoyance.
“I would cut back any wooded area, so there’s no chance of enemy archers having cover.”
General Brooks thought for a moment, then answered with a nod. “Thank you, General, I will bear that in mind in the future. Now, where are we going to enter the Steppes? I need to know so I can make sure we are on the right course.”
The two men looked at a map and the imperial general pointed. “Here,” he announced.
Brooks thought for a while, and pointed further south. “Why not here?” he asked.
“Well, there are water holes on a line from this point to Kal-Pharina. It is an extra three days’ march, but it’s the safest route.”
“I will bow to your wisdom. May I offer you a drink?”
General Gordonia smiled. “Thank you, yes.” He paused and continued once Brooks had poured the two drinks. “When it comes to the Steppes, I am the only man, apart from the Chosen, who could get an army across in one piece.”
“Well, let’s hope that we shall.”
“Relax, General, your men will get across the Steppes safely, with no casualties from the heat. I trust you arranged for the headwear to be brought?”
“Yes, we’ve issued hats to each man.”
“You need to make sure your men wear them. I know they may look ridiculous but the hats will save their lives.”
“I’m sure they know, General.” Brooks lifted one of the tanned, floppy, wide-brimmed hats and smiled broadly. “And I’m sure the men will enjoy wearing them.”
***
Admiral Rendel had to arrange for five hundred Royal Lancers and their horses to be shipped to Phadrine. A special vessel in the Kingdom’s fleet, the Floating Lancer had been specifically designed to carry the Royal Lancers and their mounts. Escorting the Floating Lancer were The Grey Sunset and the Gliding Falcon. In his cabin on the Gliding Falcon, Admiral Rendel informed his captain of his plans.
The fleet would sail around Elbow’s Point, the south-eastern corner of the Kingdom, then sail due west until they were within site of the port of Calcaloin. Just west of Calcaloin, nestled between rocky outcrops, was a natural landing cove where the Floating Lancer would deploy the Royal Lancers. Once the Royal Lancers had disembarked, the Floating Lancer would block the port of Calcaloin, while the Gliding Falcon and the other Kingdom vessels, including the Dancing Wave and Red Storm, would sail around and block the naval port of Sal-Daarinda.
The fleet set sail and cruised effortlessly across the sea, aided by favourable winds.
***
By the end of the following week, the army had reached the Steppes. In front of them lay hundreds of miles of scorched, arid land. The force now numbered over thirty thousand, all seasoned troops. They halted at the edge of the Steppes where King Logan and General Brooks had decided to camp. Still on Kingdom soil, both men were happy when the Chosen advised them not to enter the Steppes until dawn.
Inside the king’s tent, Logan and Rowet enjoyed some tisane.
“Logan, we need to keep to a tight timetable when crossing the Steppes. We have estimated the travelling time between each watering hole and these targets need to be kept. If we run late arriving at one hole, it can put us back by days. So timing is imperative.”
“Thank you for your advice. I should be grateful if you would mark on my map the location of the watering holes. If anything should happen, then I will need to get my army back.”
“Logan, this knowledge is held only by three people, General Gordonia, my daughter Ireen, and myself. You must first assure me that this information will be held only by you and General Brooks, and your son.”
“Rowet, you have my word.”
For the next hour, the two leaders stood hunched over the map while Rowet marked the watering holes and the distances between them. Logan smiled. “That is a meandering route, but as you say, it is the safest.”
“Well, one thing is certain, we will get your army across.”
“Will you and General Gordonia join Brooks and me for supper?” asked Logan.
“Of course we will.”
Later that evening, the four men sat in King Logan’s tent, enjoying their evening meal.
“Let me propose a toast,” said the king. “To a safe journey across the Steppes.”
The other three men raised their goblets.
“Now that we’re all here, we need to plan how
to recapture your throne.”
“With all due respect, your Highness, we need to wait to see what forces we face first,” said Brooks.
“I agree with you, General,” said Rowet. “We cannot prepare our strike until we establish what we face. Kal-Pharina will be difficult enough to take without us rushing in blind. One thing I can assure you, Logan; once in the palace my son will yield to me – on that you have my word. When we travel across the Steppes, you will see my people flock to me. I ask you to allow me to ride ahead with some of your men to gather my own force. The more men we have the better, and they will spread the word that their emperor lives.”
“I agree, Rowet,” said Logan, nodding. “The more men, the easier our task should be.”
At dawn, for the first time in several hundred years, an army set foot on the Steppes. The Chosen rode off ahead to rally his own forces.
***
Throughout the evening, the Kharnacks attacked the outpost walls. It was close to midnight and the clansmen continued fighting. The Rhaurns were tiring but would not give in. Fighting spread all along the circular wall, and no section suffered without bloodshed. Twice in the first hour, Captain Waid sent his reserves to block breaches on the walls. He soon became worried at the loss of men and sent a runner to Prince Zane with a message.
The prince fought next to Dax, though not too close to those death-dealers, as he could accidentally get his head cut off. As the runner arrived, Zane dispatched another unlucky Kharnack who had reached the rampart.
“Sire!” screamed the young farmer, doing his part in the conflict.
“Make it quick,” spluttered Zane, gulping air.
“Captain Waid is worried about casualties.”
“Tell him there’s nothing we can do at the moment, we only have so many men. I will think of something.”
“Aye, Sire.”
As Zane turned, another Kharnack reached the parapet. Zane charged the man, wielding his new blades. The Kharnack saw the prince and charged at him. Zane was knocked off his feet and fearfully looked up at the grinning Kharnack. But before the Kharnack could deliver the killing stroke, one of Dax’s death-dealers snapped the clansman’s spine. Dax held down his axe and Zane gripped the shaft.
Pulling the prince up, he smiled. “Lucky the man was slow, my prince.”
Before Zane could answer, more Kharnacks reached the parapet. The fighting continued at a ferocious pace.
***
Thade battled on the western wall. Twice his defence line was breached and twice he threw himself at the Kharnacks. His men followed him into the skirmish and the attackers swiftly repelled. Thade received a small cut to his left cheek and a cut along his right arm, but the former gladiator did not give up nor slow down; it was not in his nature.
***
On the eastern wall, Tanas led the defence. His men marvelled at the blind warrior and loyally stood by him. With his leadership and insight, the wall was not breached, but the fighting continued at a fierce, frenzied pace. Tanas stayed calm during the fighting, inspiring his men and they battled to keep up with the blind warrior, but their section of the wall remained safe.
***
Gammel gave himself room on the northern wall. He swung his broadsword with awesome might and power. The parapet on this wall was wider, so covering attacks was slightly easier as men had more room to manoeuvre. A scream warned Gammel of another breach, and the blacksmith threw himself into the melee. Swinging his broadsword with both hands, he received cuts to his torso and arms, but the big man did not flinch. He lunged forward, dropping his sword, and grabbed a Kharnack by the neck and groin. Lifting the man, Gammel used him as a ram, and pushed aside the milling clansmen from the rampart. Then lifting the body above his head, Gammel screamed his battle cry and threw the man onto his climbing comrades. Clansmen tumbled from ladders, landing in a bloody, pulped heap at the base of the wall.
Gathering up his sword, Gammel raised it into the air and howled in defiance. “RHAURNS!”
The defenders felt the blacksmith’s energy flow through them. They picked up forked poles, pushed away scaling ladders, and hacked through ropes, causing more Kharnack climbers to plunge to their deaths.
***
The snow kept falling and the defenders on the battlement started to slip and slide. Suddenly, on the southern wall, the Kharnacks forced a breach and gained a foothold on the rampart.
Chapter 18
Seeing the threat, Captain Waid immediately sent in some of his reserves to seal the breach on the southern wall. There, Dax and Zane fought on the narrow parapet as the Kharnacks poured in. The Kharnack forces on the wall started to form a wedge and carve through the defenders, forcing them back towards the stairwell. In turn the reserves found themselves blocked on the stairs, unable to reach the fighting as their fellow defenders were forced down. Captain Waid saw Zane being forced back further along the wall over the gates. On the other side, Dax roared with contempt at the Kharnacks as he tried to force his way forward. But still the attackers streamed in.
Captain Waid sent more men forward to the southern wall, not realising his reserves were blocked in the spiral stairwell. Through the furore, Dax could see that the attackers were getting the better of the Rhaurns. From his vantage point, he watched the men in the black armour slowly advance – now or never. He could not call on any of the defenders from the other walls; they had their own problems. Success depended upon the men there, but fear of defeat covered the defenders like the settling snow.
“Rhaurns, with me!” bellowed Dax. He surged forward hacking with his death-dealers.
The Rhaurns gathered around the old warrior as he forced his way forward. Slashing a Kharnack across the face, burying his other axe into another’s groin, he barged past them both, gaining more ground. The Rhaurns could see and feel his forward momentum and fought with increased ferocity.
Zane saw Dax push forward, swallowing down any doubts. Shouting at the top of his voice, he screamed, “Rhaurns forward!”
Using his new short swords, Zane stabbed a Kharnack in the chest and slashed another across the abdomen. The Rhaurn Prince gained ground. Blocking a blow to the head, he sliced the attacker in the groin. Zane blocked another potential cut to his throat and pushed the man, sending him tumbling from the wall. Again, he pushing forward.
The black-clad warriors, the Dark Brethren, reached the base of the wall. Above, fierce, murderous fighting filled the parapet. Both Kharnacks and Rhaurns fell, injured or dead. The coppery, salty stench of blood filled the air and crimson stained the grey stone wall.
Dax pushed on harder to reach the ladders – he could just see the Dark Brethren.
The Kharnacks made another push.
Zane felt the Kharnacks surge forward again, forcing him back. The prince knew that if they lost the wall to the invaders, the Rhaurns would lose the entire outpost.
The black-armoured warriors reach the rampart.
From behind, Zane heard a distinct, bellowing battle cry. Gammel pushed past the Rhaurn defenders and stormed along the parapet. The blacksmith barged past Zane and picked up a Kharnack. He threw the clansman at some of his kin climbing up a ladder. Gammel then punched the next Kharnack, sending him cart-wheeling over the wall.
Dax saw Gammel on the other side of the gate, storming forward, pushing and punching Kharnacks off the wall. He knew the former blacksmith was aiming for the black armoured warriors, the Dark Brethren. Dax knew his friend was battle-crazed and would put himself in danger to reach his nemesis. From the essence of his soul, Dax called on all his energies and made a final desperate push. Slashing and carving with his death-dealers, he struggled forward. Following minutes of bloody mayhem, he reached the first ladder. He sensed the Rhaurn defenders behind him, and left the ladder for them. He pushed on.
Zane realised that Gammel had no weapon; he fought on the wall with his bare hands. Zane leapt forward and stood next to the big man, knocking away any weapons plunging in his direction. In the next few
heartbeats, he saved the blacksmith’s life several times.
This is going to be a long, hard push, thought the prince, blocking a stab aimed at his chest.
He could just make out Dax pushing forward on the other side of the gate. He felt the tide turn.
Gammel toppled the first ladder, pitching climbers to a bone snapping, bloody death. He punched a Dark Brethren in the throat, causing the warrior to drop his sword. Time to kill. Gammel bent down, picked up a sword and as he rose, slashed the injured soldier.
Single-handedly, the blacksmith carved a bloody path, forcing his way forward, hacking and slashing, not defending himself. Now among the Dark Brethren, he shoulder-charged one off the wall and stabbed another in the eye. One Dark Brethren warrior slipped on the parapet and fell to his knees. Without mercy, Gammel kicked the fallen soldier so hard he twirled in the air while plummeting to the ground. No one heard the sickening, crunchy squelch. Gammel reached another ladder and pushed it away from the wall. The defenders were now winning.
Gammel and Zane slowly forced their way through the Dark Brethren. On the other side of the wall, Dax continued to kill Kharnacks with lethal efficiency.
After an hour of bloody carnage, the defenders forced all the Kharnacks and the Dark Brethren from the southern wall. Dax, Gammel, and Zane stood tall on the rampart, fighting side by side. Pushing away the final ladder, Gammel raised his sword and roared in triumph, a glint of madness twinkling in his eyes. The rest of the defenders on the wall joined in the roar.
No one noticed the sun rising to start another day, as thick snow clouds hid its majestic climb.
The Kharnacks retreated and a mighty roar reverberated throughout the compound. For a whole night and the previous day, the defenders had fought gallantly and they had not broken. They had not budged, moved, or run. They were like a mountain in the storm; like the ancient oak in the forest – the soldiers were there to stay and nothing would move them.
Zane got caught up in the euphoria of their survival and also bellowed at the top of his voice. Then tiredness suddenly washed over the young prince. He looked over at Gammel and saw many cuts on his arms and torso. The big man turned to face the prince.
