by Dean Henegar
Would he have much of a zone to come back to once the war was over?
Chapter 15
“Sir, it looks like it’s about time. If we fall back much farther, the terrain will start to become a problem,” Sergeant Brooks advised. Looking back toward Goreaxe Peak, I could see that the sergeant was right. The terrain was becoming rockier and the rises in the ground more pronounced. We had to make our stand soon or we would lose some of the effectiveness of our siege engines. A very welcome set of system notifications popped up, distracting me before I could answer Brooks.
Ty has accepted the quest to join in the defense of Hayden’s Knoll.
Jacoby has accepted the quest to join in the defense of Hayden’s Knoll.
Kathala has accepted the quest to join in the defense of Hayden’s Knoll.
Yendys has accepted the quest to join in the defense of Hayden’s Knoll.
Quimby has accepted the quest to join in the defense of Hayden’s Knoll.
Smashem has accepted the quest to join in the defense of Hayden’s Knoll.
Deacon has accepted the quest to join in the defense of Hayden’s Knoll.
Nitor has accepted the quest to join in the defense of Hayden’s Knoll.
“Very good, Sergeant. Have Tavers pick out a spot he feels will be the best for the siege engines and get his crews moving,” I ordered. Anticipating my order, Tavers and the wagons containing his catapults—the five that remained after the giant wurm had eaten two of them—rushed to the rear as fast as the mukok would move. Ignominia and the ogres followed, providing cover and some extra muscle to help set up the hasty defensive positions we were going to use for our stand. I had placed all our siege equipment, including the 14th’s and Ignominia’s, under the capable engineer. He would get the most mileage out of our gear.
They pushed past our slow withdrawal and, in the distance, began to unload and assemble the catapults while other engineers marked out positions for our soldiers and began to hammer wooden stakes into the ground to improve our defense. There would be no time for a trench; only the simplest of impediments would be ready in time to help break up the attackers. I had the men slow the pace of our withdrawal, stopping more often to fire missiles from our dwindling pool of ammo. We had shot through a good chunk of the ammo we had brought, and our last resupply delivery was late. There was still plenty on hand, but we would run through it quickly without further resupply.
The enemy had taken a beating throughout the day, and I estimated we had killed over eight hundred of the rather pathetic conscripts Narbos had brought to the fight, as well as the large monsters we had previously killed. The wurm had not only destroyed two of my siege engines but had also eaten an entire platoon of soldiers from the 14th. I hadn’t expected that the monster could burrow under the ground since the recon report had only mentioned a “giant snake.” Still, the preparation drills to deal with giant creatures had paid dividends. Our motto of “sweat more now, bleed less later” was about to pay even larger returns against our nearly exhausted foe.
It didn’t take long, even at our slower pace, to reach the defensive area that Tavers had selected. His catapults were nearly complete, and lines of stakes surrounded about a third of the area we planned to defend. It wasn’t perfect, but every bit helped. We would have a few moments to hammer in some more before the enemy reached the line I was about to form.
“Legion! Halt. Form up in line of battle!” I ordered. We had started the day with forty platoons and were now down to thirty-nine after the losses inflicted by the tunnel wurm. The first line of thirteen blocks halted, and the second line marched forward to fill in the gaps. This was the bulk of our infantry and would form one of the long sides of our defensive rectangle formation; it was also the side facing the approaching enemy. The rest of the legion formed the two short sides while Ignominia, the Drebix raiders, and the Goreaxe ogres formed the other long side. In the center of the rectangle stood our catapults, loaded and ready for the approaching horde. For a reserve, I kept the Drebix berserkers and shamans along with my force of scouts, who could serve as infantry in a pinch. The longbowmen attached to the 14th were placed behind the main line of legionnaires to support them with ranged fire.
“Looks like they’re making a push to encircle us, sir,” Brooks advised.
Narbos’s reavers began to race up the flanks, just out of bowshot. In response, Nergui and his centaurs made their move. I had held them back to deal with enemy units acting as cavalry, but so far, the spiders that had been reported to be with Narbos’s army hadn’t shown up. The strange lurkers were relatively few in number and had been held back from the fight all day. So far, my opponent was content to let his poorly equipped conscripts bear the brunt of my fire.
The centaurs broke into two formations of one hundred and attacked each of the groups of reavers moving to flank my forces. Nergui ordered his cavalry to use their bows. I heard the twang of the oversized weapons clear across the battlefield. With much more power than arrows from a typical longbow, those from the centaurs slammed into the approaching reavers. Many were cut down, and their approach was slowed as wave after wave of arrows tore into their ranks. The reavers would make little progress, at least until the centaurs ran out of ammo. Every centaur had brought a half dozen quivers of arrows. None of the ammunition my forces used matched their weapons, and I wasn’t sure how they intended to resupply—or even if they intended to at all. Maybe what they brought was all they were willing to expend on this contract.
While the fire from Devlin’s Horde slowed the reavers, my army used the extra time to complete its formation without incident. The conscripts were approaching, so we didn’t have time to extend out the defensive stakes, but the attacking horde was spread out over a large area as the most exhausted of the bunch lagged behind. Tavers got his catapult batteries into action while the scorpions spread themselves out to lend fire support to each side of our rectangle.
“Target, infantry in the open, hundred yards from the main line, scattershot,” Tavers shouted to his gunners.
“Confirm, the target is infantry in the open, hundred yards from the main line, scattershot,” each battery replied.
“Splash over!” the gunners shouted as they fired the barrage.
“Splash out!” Tavers said as the rounds approached their target. He was standing on one of the wagons used to haul the catapults, giving him a perfect field of view to adjust fire as needed. Each of the five catapults had shot a half dozen stones the size of a human head. The shots crashed into the approaching conscripts, and the effectiveness of the new ammo exceeded my expectations. Each round hit, killing anyone unfortunate enough to be under it. In addition, the shot tended to bounce once or twice as it continued into the mass of enemies, taking down multiple attackers before it ran out of steam.
“Down twenty-five and repeat,” Tavers ordered, walking his barrage along the leading edge of the attackers. His fire was not all that was hitting them. The 14th Legion’s one hundred archers began to send arrow after arrow into the unarmored conscripts, killing them in droves. As their advance slowed, the enemy bunched up, making the fire even more effective.
“Ready pilum,” I ordered, and the sergeants for each unit repeated the order to their men as I walked behind the line. Javelins clacked against equipment as the soldiers prepared to throw, the sound magnified by the over one thousand soldiers who would be throwing this first volley.
“Release!” I shouted, and a flock of missiles arced out from our lines. The approaching conscripts wavered as they watched the cloud of death approaching them. Hundreds fell as the rain of javelins landed on the leading ranks just as the next volley from the catapults hit. In ones and twos, then by the dozen, conscripts turned and ran from our fire. The terror was infectious, and soon, the whole force of conscripts was fleeing from the field. Fire from the archers, catapults, and scorpions followed them, adding to the enemy’s casualties.
The sound of pounding hooves drew my attention to the flanks,
where the centaurs had committed to a charge. Seeing that their arrow fire had slowed the reaver advance, the centaurs had readied lances and charged the enemy. The reavers had only moments to gather and try to defend against the heavy mass of centaur and steel bearing down on them. With a crash, the centaurs hit the disorganized reavers, skewering them on their lances and trampling the fallen under their iron-shod hooves. The centaurs’ sheer mass pushed them through the enemy line, Nergui expertly guiding his riders to keep them from getting tied up in melee with the numerically superior foe.
When they pulled back from the charge, I could see that the attack wasn’t without casualties; the forms of several centaurs lay buried beneath the mass of dead reavers. Nergui’s tactic worked, and the reavers’ advance slowed down, but it didn’t stop. Also, it appeared that Narbos had brought the last of his reavers and a large group of what the system identified as militia into the fight. The militia at least had some armor and real weapons, unlike the more numerous unarmored conscripts with their pitchforks and farm tools. Skeletal giants also moved to rejoin the fight, and they were still dangerous, despite having taken some damage earlier.
I now had large forces approaching the legion on three sides. The reavers on the flanks were coming in hard after having recovered from the charging centaurs, who were back to firing at the mass of enemies. It would have been great to have them cycle charge the enemy, but Nergui was extremely cautious with his force and unwilling to take more than a limited risk.
The reavers on the flanks hit the legion first, ignoring the swarms of javelins that my defenders had thrown. Nevertheless, our ranged fire and harassment from the centaurs had done their work. The enemy hit the flanks as a blob. There was no cohesion or organization, only a desire to get at the foe. My men stood ready, shields holding back axe blows as they went to work with the swords. The reavers tested our lines, but the legion held firm.
My men were functioning like a machine—a machine created to cut down the field of enemies in front of us. The reavers worked as individuals, focused only on the enemy in front of them. Whenever a reaver raised an axe to attack, a soldier would thrust a gladius into his side. The enemy were all showing exhaustion debuffs, which left the reavers with a minor penalty to their attack and defense score.
We were holding well, but the fight wasn’t going all our way. My soldiers were taking losses even if they were dishing out much more damage to the enemy than they were receiving. The main line was now engaged with the combination of reavers and militia. Our lines held, but the pressure was increasing. A series of explosions grabbed my attention as Tavers and the runesmiths showered one of the last pair of bone giants with scorpion bolts enhanced with explosive runes.
“We’re dry on runes, sir. Back to normal fire,” Tavers shouted over to me. Their supply of explosive runes had run out at the worst possible time; the last giant had reached our line.
The giant’s claws tore gaps in my line with each blow. My men had little that could affect the undead monstrosity. A thrusting shortsword did next to no damage, and the javelins were completely useless. I needed some of the ogres to take the thing down before the line ruptured and the enemy overwhelmed us. Pulling Stench and some of his ogres from his position would be a risk; even now the reavers attacking the flanks were spilling over to engage the makeshift force covering the rear. Still, all was lost if we didn’t take out the giant.
One of the runesmiths bought me some time by chucking a pair of earth guardian runes. The earth elementals that sprang forth at the giant’s feet did a better job of hurting the undead creature, their rocky fists cracking and damaging its bones. I ran past the siege engines, which were still pouring fire into our enemies, and found Stench in the thick of things, his ogres hacking down reavers by the dozen. Bright red lights flared somewhere back behind the enemy, but I had too much to worry about to go gawking at some light show.
“Stench, I need your ogres to take down that thing!” I shouted above the din of combat. Stench pried the body of a reaver from his axe and pointed farther down the line.
“Take your own. All my troops are needed here to hold back the foe,” the ogre chief replied. He was right; I had forgotten my own squad of ogre legionnaires, who were in the middle of the rear formation. The reavers spilling over the flanks hadn’t made it that far yet.
“Auxiliary squad, take that thing down!” I ordered.
The squad of ogres in full lorica segmentata saluted and then broke from their position in the rear lines to charge at the giant, the Drebix raiders to their flank shifting over to close the gap. While they didn’t execute the maneuver as cleanly as my legionnaires would have, the Drebix sorted themselves out before the reavers reached their section of the line. My ogres were well equipped for the job I had given them. The “gladius” that the ogre auxiliaries wielded was the size of a two-handed sword, and as they reached the monster, they began to rain blows on its legs. Each one sent chunks of the giant skeleton flying. With the horrifying sound of cracking bone, one of the giant’s legs gave way as the necromantic energy holding it together finally failed; the damage being dished out had proven too much for the dark magic.
Unfortunately for us, the huge pile of bones that made up the giant skeleton collapsed onto my front lines, killing and injuring men while opening gaps that the reavers and militia were happy to exploit. The legion tried to reform, each soldier closing the ranks, but it was too late. Two gaps in my lines opened and then expanded as more enemies poured through. I activated all my charges of Goon Squad to hamper the enemy advance even as Beremund led the berserker and shaman reserves into the fight.
“Scouts, form up!” I shouted, gathering the last of my legion reserves. I was about to use the Promise Kept artifact to see if that would help when the pressure on our lines inexplicitly began to wane. Shouts rose up throughout the enemy lines, and the attackers turned from the battle and streamed back to where Narbos and some of his forces were fighting among themselves.
“What’s going on, sir?” a wounded but still-in-the-fight Sergeant Brooks asked.
“I don’t know, Sergeant, but I’m not going to complain. If our enemy is content to do something stupid, I’ll not interrupt them. Get the men back to work and have our lines reformed. Clear these bones out of the way and get ready for them to come back,” I ordered, even as I found myself distracted by the enemy’s display of fratricide.
Chapter 16
Narbos watched his last giant assault the enemy lines. He was frustrated that his forces hadn’t even made a dent in Raytak’s army despite having such overwhelming numbers. His conscripts were running away, and now the last of his reavers and militia were making a final effort to crack the stout legion defense.
“What gives with that guy? There’s no way his level 16 soldiers should be that strong. Is he some kind of hacker?” Darkfallow whined.
Narbos was pretty sure it wasn’t a hack; his opponent just knew what he was doing. “I don’t think so. Send in your necromancers and the painweavers to see if some magic support will crack open their formation,” Narbos told Darkfallow, who had turned his attention to their rear and wore a strange look on his face.
“What is going on back there with those creepy lurker things?” Darkfallow said while pointing.
Narbos spun about and saw his lurkers hacking away at the fleeing conscripts, killing them by the score. “Stop them, Darkfallow, and get them moving toward Raytak’s army. If the lurkers are so ready to kill, they can do it with our opponent’s troops, not ours,” Narbos ordered, annoyed that the monstrous troops were too stupid to control their bloodlust.
Darkfallow gathered his necromancers and ordered the painweavers to help stop the lurkers’ slaughter of their retreating forces. For some reason, the painweavers were ignoring Darkfallow. Instead of helping get the lurkers pointed in the right direction, they were pulling some strange glowing stones from their pouches and tossing them about. The stones flashed with a bright-red light, the flashes happening faste
r and faster.
“What are you two doing?” Narbos shouted over to them as his executioners formed a protective circle around their leader.
“We follow the master’s will. You are but a tool that he is now finished with and ready to discard,” one of the painweavers said before launching a wave of pain magic at Narbos. One of his executioners leaped in front of the blast, crumpling to the ground as pain wracked his body. The rats—minus his friend Snuggles—charged the painweaver, hissing at the traitorous caster. A squawk of pain from Darkfallow drew his attention; the lurkers had ceased their attack on the fleeing conscripts and had turned their attention to Darkfallow and his necromancers, clawing and biting at his friend.
The body of the executioner at his feet exploded in gore as Darkfallow emerged from it; his friend’s spell allowed him to instantly transport to any dead creature nearby. It was a great get-out-of-trouble spell but was also kind of gross when you were standing next to the corpse he emerged from.
“What gives with these guys? I barely got out of there alive,” Darkfallow said.
Narbos had no idea, watching in frustration as the necromancers went down to the claws and teeth of the lurkers. One of the necromancers had time to fire off a blast of dark magic, hitting a lurker in the face. The lurker’s face rotted away and the creature dropped even as another lurker grabbed the necromancer’s neck in its teeth. There was a sickening crunch as the lurker shook its head back and forth like a dog with a toy. After killing the necromancers, the pack of lurkers began to charge toward Narbos and his defenders.
“Darkfallow, get our army back here. I think something really bad is about to happen,” Narbos said as the glowing stones blazed impossibly bright. As his eyesight recovered from the flash, Narbos saw that each of the stones had been replaced with a swirling portal. The smell of sulfur leaked out, and dark shapes were moving closer.
