Demontech: Rally Point: 2 (Demontech Book 2)

by David Sherman

  “Are they willing to fight?” Haft asked.

  “Willing? They seem to be. But who knows if they can? They’ve never had to, and I’ve had precious little opportunity to train them.”

  “If the bandits in this area really are joining together to come after us, they’ll have to—unless they want to simply surrender. And our men aren’t enough to win against three hundred without help.”

  “I know. And if we don’t help you defeat them, when they’re finished with you, they’ll burn the town because we didn’t destroy you ourselves.”

  Spinner looked over the town’s area. It was far too large for even sixscore fighters to defend more than part of it against that large a force, even if it was surrounded by a stout, high palisade with a fighting step on its inside; there was simply too great a perimeter to defend with fewer than five hundred men. And even if they could that would leave all of the crop and grazing land open to the bandits.

  “You have woodsmen and hunters,” he said. “Do any of them know how to fight?”

  “A few probably do, but as individuals, not as part of a unit. Few men from the hinterlands of the Princedons ever go abroad to join foreign armies, so there are hardly any veterans in Eikby. Those bandits will likely be here in less than four days, possibly in only two or three. That might be long enough to get those fences up, and build a few barricades, but it’s nowhere near enough time to get all the potential fighters organized and even partly trained in unit tactics.”

  Haft whistled. “Four days? It takes four months to give a civilian enough training for him to get to the point where he can begin learning how to be a Frangerian Marine.”

  “We don’t need Marines,” Spinner told him, “we just need soldiers.”

  Stonearm chuckled. “Arrogant bastards! I think that’s part of why you’re so good. You believe you’re the best, and so does just about everybody else. That’s half the fight.”

  “It’s easy to believe the truth,” Haft said.

  “How much will the mayor interfere?” Spinner asked, ignoring him.

  “He’s probably back in town right now, threatening people, trying to coerce everyone into not cooperating with us.”

  “Do you think he’ll succeed?”

  “Plotniko and Stupnikow came immediately when I sent for them. They sounded confident when they went to get the people they need for the work.” Stonearm shrugged. “We’ll know soon enough.”

  Spinner continued looking around; he couldn’t decide how to begin training the guards and anyone else who might be willing to fight. He was afraid they wouldn’t have enough time for even the most rudimentary training. “We need something to slow the bandits down, a way to delay their attack by a few days. But what?”

  The sounds of people on the move came from the road. They looked toward the town and saw groups of townsmen heading toward them with carts loaded with wood and tools. Plotniko and Stupnikow had been right—the people were willing to defend their town against the bandits, all they needed was someone to tell them what to do. Soon the sounds of sawing, chopping, and hammering rippled through the area.

  It was dusk by the time Silent showed up. Wolf was romping at his side.

  “I found the bandit camp,” the giant said through a grin as soon as he reached Spinner and Haft. He eyed Captain Stonearm, nodded respectfully when they were introduced. Stonearm bowed in return, glanced warily at Wolf. The Golden Girl squeezed in between Silent and Wolf. Wolf licked her hand in greeting, Stonearm looked at her curiously, the others paid her no attention. Doli moved just close enough behind Spinner to hear what they said.

  “What did you find out?” Spinner asked.

  “It’s not really a camp,” Silent explained, “it’s more like a village; some of the houses have stone walls. There are wells, a smithy, stables. Just about everything you’d expect to find in a forest village.” He knelt next to a patch of bare ground and drew a map of the bandit village as he talked. “It’s in a small valley, little more than a hollow in the surrounding hills—the hills have steep sides on the valley side. Roads lead in here, here, and here, (north, east, and west). To the south a track too small to be called a road cuts between two hills. There’s a two-man watch post here,” he drew it in on the west side of the south track, “and another one here.” He indicated another to the northeast. “They’ve got a lone lookout in a tall tree on a low hill over here.” He made a mark to the southeast. “I’m not sure about here.” He pointed to the northwest. “I didn’t get there.”

  “Ulgh!” Wolf objected.

  “Wolf went there, but I couldn’t quite understand his report.” He studied the wolf for a moment as Wolf made movements with a paw on the ground and bobbed his head.

  Stonearm stared at Wolf, mouth agape. It looked to him like the animal was trying to communicate something very specific.

  “All right, all right,” Silent said after a moment. “You’re saying there were two lookouts there.”

  Wolf stopped pawing the dirt and nodded vigorously. He keened in delight when Silent ruffled the fur on his back and scratched behind his ears.

  “I don’t believe it,” Stonearm muttered, looking wide-eyed at the wolf. “I thought that was only a child’s tale.”

  Haft scowled at Wolf; they had important business to discuss, it wasn’t right for the beast to take their attention.

  “Believe it,” Silent rumbled, smiling at Wolf. “But as I was saying.” He turned back to his scratched map. “The two hills on the south are thinly wooded, enough trees were cut to give the lookouts a clear enough view of anyone approaching during the day.”

  “How many bandits are in the village?” Spinner asked.

  “It was hard to tell,” Silent answered, “but I estimate there were well over a hundred men when I was there. Women, children, and oldsters, maybe two hundred more. I came back this way,” he swung his hand in a broad sweep to the northeast of the bandit base, then down to the southeast. “I heard sounds of men and horses heading toward the village, twenty-five or thirty of them. The village is about a four-hour walk on horseback to the northwest from here.” He looked at them expectantly.

  “So let’s say a hundred and fifty of them now,” Spinner said softly.

  “More than that,” Stonearm said. “There were probably more coming from other directions. Some of them will take a few more days to get there. Then they’ll likely take a couple of days or so to get themselves ready before they come for us. We might have a week to get ready. Possibly more.”

  “The fences should be up by then,” Spinner noted.

  “Some of those guardsmen know a little bit more about fighting than you said,” Fletcher added. He’d spent the remainder of the daylight training the guardsmen in swordplay.

  Haft’s mind was only partly on the discussion, he was more interested in Silent’s map. Suddenly he yelped with excitement.

  “What’s wrong?” Spinner asked.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Haft said gleefully. “At least not for us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Take another look at Silent’s map. Think of the scale. Silent, do I have this right? Each of these hills,” he tapped the three where Silent had seen lookouts, “is less than fifty yards from the village, is that right?”

  “Gods, you’re right,” Silent murmured. The others looked blank, they hadn’t seen what Haft and Silent did.

  “You said the sentries have a clear view of the approaches during the day. What about at night?”

  The giant grinned. “I came at them right down the trail at night and they didn’t see me.”

  Haft looked at the others excitedly. “They think we’re too afraid to do anything to them. Well, we can do something to them—and make them afraid instead.”

  Spinner and Stonearm looked again at Silent’s map and their faces changed as they saw what Haft had spotted. Once they did, it didn’t take Haft long to convince them he was right, especially since Silent enthusiastically backed him. They began
making plans. Alyline kept oddly quiet during the planning; nobody expected Doli to say anything, so no one was surprised when she didn’t.

  They set out before midnight: Spinner, Haft, Captain Stonearm, the eight Zobran Border Warders, four of the Skraglander Blood Swords, a Skraglander poacher, and Xundoe. When Silent had described the land he’d traveled to them, two of Eikby’s hunters said they knew safe trails that led near the bandit village. They and Silent served as guides. Four nearly grown boys came along to handle the horses when they stopped. Wolf ranged ahead. Spinner was surprised and Haft relieved when the Golden Girl didn’t insist on going along. Fletcher and Sergeant Phard were left in command of the combined defensive forces. Stonearm accepted that, he knew those two had more experience and knowledge than all of his men combined.

  A gibbous moon shed enough light through the trees for the party to follow the trails along which the hunters led. The going was easy most of the way and, aside from the occasional clop when a horse’s hoof landed on something hard, they were quiet enough they didn’t disturb the birds and bats that hoo-ed and squee-ed in the night. Only the night-feasting insects paid them much attention, and they didn’t make too much of a nuisance of themselves.

  In the small hours of the night, they stopped. Silent estimated they were about three-quarters of a mile from the bandit village. Spinner went with the giant and two of the Zobran Border Warders to scout ahead on foot. Haft objected to being left behind, but Spinner was afraid he might decide to kill any sentries he got close enough to—he didn’t know if or when the bandits checked their sentries and didn’t want to take the chance that someone would discover dead sentries before the raiders were in position.

  It was little more than an hour before dawn by the time they returned. Everyone in the party gathered close to hear their report.

  “Wolf met us partway along,” Spinner told them. “He’d already checked for new posts, evidently there aren’t any that he and Silent hadn’t already found on the southern hills during the day. There are two sentries at each of the lookout posts. The trail from the village between the hills is clear. A footpath leads from that trail to each of the listening posts. The sentries didn’t seem to be all that alert.”

  “Careless of them,” Haft growled, still unhappy about having been left behind on the scouting expedition.

  “Not really,” Captain Stonearm told him. “Nobody’s ever attacked one of their bases so the bandits have reason to feel secure.”

  “What else did you find?” Haft asked.

  “There’s a night watchman inside the village. He’s sitting under a lamp.” Spinner laughed softly. “The watchman was asleep.”

  “Could you tell anything about how many people were there?”

  Spinner shook his head. “It was too dark to see into the stables, but we saw what looked like a hastily erected corral beyond the buildings. If that’s what it was, there are more of them now than when Silent was there during the day.”

  “So what are we waiting for?” Haft asked.

  Spinner looked at the others. All he could see in the deepening dark was silhouettes of men’s heads and shoulders, and the spikes of their upright weapons. “Does everybody remember what they’re supposed to do?” he asked.

  The silhouettes bobbed up and down as the men nodded, voices murmured assent and readiness.

  “All right, then,” Spinner said.

  “Let’s do this thing!” Haft ordered with relieved eagerness and rose to stand tall.

  Spinner made sure all the horses were on tether lines and the four boys knew how to keep them secure and where to move them when the time came. Then they broke into three groups. Silent led the first group—Spinner and the Skraglanders—away at a trot. A couple of minutes later one of the hunters led the second group—Stonearm and the Zobrans. A couple of minutes after the second group, Haft and Xundoe moved out along with the remaining men led by the other hunter. This time Wolf trailed; he didn’t have anything more to do until after things began. The four boys swallowed nervously at being left alone. Then pride at the responsibility they were given took over and their fear drained away. They waited for the signal to come forward with the horses.

  The pace was fast at first then slowed as they neared the lookout posts. Seventy-five yards away, the first group stopped. Spinner took two of the Blood Swords toward the post on the left, Haft led the other two to the right.

  CHAPTER

  TWELVE

  Spinner and his Skraglanders didn’t head straight at the bandit position, they aimed to its side and circled around to approach from behind. The forest was semitropical so few leaves and twigs lay on the ground to rustle or snap under their passing feet, but thorns stabbed at their flesh and snagged their clothes, and creeping vines groped to trip them. They came to the footpath that led from the trail to the lookout post and readied their weapons. Crouching, they followed the footpath until they were twenty yards from the post and saw its hulking shadow through the thinning trees. They drew their knives and lowered themselves to their bellies. Slowly, probing the ground in front of them with their fingertips for anything that would make a noise, they crawled closer. They breathed through their mouths to reduce any noise they might make themselves, listened intently for sounds from the sentries.

  The sentries were quiet but not totally silent. They made small noises as they shifted restlessly—it was that time on their shift that they were tired and wanted relief, but that relief was still some time off. There was a small clink as one shifted a piece of equipment. One murmured a few soft words, got a muted chuckle in reply.

  When he was eight yards away, on the beaten-down earth of the post, Spinner stopped and signaled the two Blood Swords to move up alongside him. They slithered close. Spinner put his hands under his shoulders and drew one foot under his body, ready to spring forward. To his sides he sensed the Skraglanders doing the same. He paused, listening and looking. Six yards ahead, he saw the shadow of a seated sentry. Just beyond, the other stood looking to his front. Moving ever so slowly, he rose far enough to have his weight on his feet and his hands free. The other two did the same. He touched them lightly and indicated they should both go after the far sentry, he’d get the near one. Then he tapped them and sprinted on his toes.

  Spinner slammed into the seated sentry and knocked him off the log with enough force to blast the air out of the man’s chest. He was on his man instantly. One hand groped for and clamped onto the nose and mouth of the downed man, the blade in the other flashed then sliced through the sentry’s throat. Then Spinner struggled to control the man’s bucking and kicking to keep him from making noise. He looked up and saw the others gently lowering the body of the sentry they had killed to the ground.

  Spinner looked over the edge of the hilltop, down a slope so steep it was almost a cliff, and saw Rockhold’s watchman, quietly nodding under his lamp. A dog barked in the village, but it was a restless bark not an alarm.

  “So that’s Rockhold,” Spinner murmured. He turned to the Skraglanders. “Let’s get these bodies out of the way. Go get the others,” he told the second. Dawn was edging closer, it was light enough for him to make out the Blood Swords’ eyes above the white of their teeth when they grinned at him.

  Haft and his Blood Swords took out their listening post just as easily. It was obvious that the Rockhold Band bandits really did feel secure in their stronghold.

  In less than ten more minutes the members of the raiding party were all on the hills, ten raiders on each overlooking the bandit village of Rockhold, atop slopes too steep for attackers to swiftly charge up. They waited for the first birds of day to sing the sun into rising.

  There was no light to speak of in the hollow, but the darkness was gentle enough to allow the raiders on the hilltops to make out the shapes of houses and other buildings when the first birds began to greet the dawn. Seventeen of the men on the two hilltops struck sparks with their flints and lit tiny fires. They touched prepared arrows into the fires and the arro
ws began to flame just behind their points. They nocked their arrows and shot them into the roofs of the dimly seen buildings in the hollow below. The arrows arched high, trailing fire, before plunging down. Most of them stuck into the thatch roofs and flames began to lick and spread. The seventeen fired another volley of fire arrows, then a third. They nocked normal arrows and waited while fire spread on the roofs of all but the most remote of the houses and buildings.

  The night watchman stirred from his slumber, sat straight, and stretched widely before he opened his eyes. He rubbed his eyes in shock, unable at first to believe what he saw. Then he leaped to his feet shouting, “Fire! Fire!” and ran from house to house, pounding on the doors and crying the alarm as he went.

  The first startled shouts came from inside the houses in almost the same instant the watchman gave his first cry.

  Spinner, lying on the southwest hill, couldn’t shoot a fire arrow with his crossbow. He lay with a quarrel ready and his crossbow aimed at the door of one of the nearer houses. Despite its accuracy and power, the crossbow didn’t have the range to reach even to the middle of the village. He dimly saw a man bolt out of the door and pause, looking back into it. Spinner shot. His quarrel went true and the bandit staggered and fell into someone just coming through the door. The two fell back inside. Spinner looked for another target in range of his weapon while he reloaded.

  On the southeast hill, Haft was less patient. He only waited a breath after the watchman’s first cry before he shot into the doorway of the nearest structure. Three men piled out, one limping and clutching his thigh, before Haft could reload. The three men didn’t stand in front of the door, instead they split up and ran in different directions. Haft carefully followed one, then fired and a second later had the satisfaction of seeing the running bandit stumble and fall when the quarrel hit. He reloaded and picked another target.

  Flames quickly engulfed roofs, crackling sparks shot into the sky and drifted to other roofs, setting them on fire. Flames began to eat their way down the wooden sides of buildings. Women screamed, children cried, men called out fearfully or shouted questions. Horrible screams came out of a burning stable. The growing fires gave enough lumination for the archers to see clearly. They readied and began to shoot as soon as people ran outside the burning structures—they tried to shoot only at men, but couldn’t always take the time to identify their targets. Several bandits were quickly down, writhing in pain or lying still in death. So were a few women and a couple of larger children.