None of the interior structures remained intact. Whoever had commanded ordered the buildings set on fire to prevent the Wolfsreik from claiming them. A prudent choice considering all of the defenders intended on dying in the first place. Most of Piper’s casualties were already removed from the battlefield. The dead were cataloged and carted off for burial while medics and surgeons filtered through the wounded. It was grim business, but one most of the soldiers had grown insensitive to. Limbs were hacked off. Buckets of blood slopped in corners when no one was looking. Piper always found the cries unsettling. It was no easy thing for a professional soldier to cry in fear of his life. Some wounds left little alternative.
Pushing thoughts of the triaged area away before he became sickened, Piper began slapping the odd soldier on the back or offering encouraging words to veterans who continued to prove themselves after nearly a year of unyielding warfare. His pride swelled at the pleasure in their faces. Not that they enjoyed killing or even fighting, it was his praise they sought. The knowledge that they had fulfilled their commander’s orders and managed to live through the horrors of combat was all any soldier really needed. Of course, seeing their buddy still standing next to them at the end, in perhaps slightly worse shape than the beginning, didn’t hurt either.
“When are we to the next one, Commander?”
“Showed them rebels, sir!”
Piper faked his grin. “Aye, that you did, lads. That you did. I was thinking of giving you louts a day off and letting the rest of the infantry take a crack at the next fort. They’ve been malingering in the mountains for a little too long if you ask me.”
Rousing laughter circled the immediate area. The vanguard was never expected to become engaged in prolonged battles. Their job was to flood the front lines and either force the defense to flee or buy enough time for the heavy infantry battalions to get online and attack. Unfortunately plans didn’t always go according to what was scribbled down on parchment. Piper’s vanguard, now bolstered with soldiers from Rogscroft and the Pell Darga, had forced more decisive engagements over the course of the winter war than in the Wolfsreik’s long history. A fact he was immeasurably proud of. Secretly he worried that Rolnir might have been correct when he guessed Piper would get killed long before his time was due.
“Sharpen your weapons, fix your armor, and I’ll see about getting some hot chow,” Piper continued. He looked around at the partially burned wood surrounding them. “Doesn’t look like it’s going to get too cold tonight. You’ve earned your rest, lads. Enjoy it. We’re finally home.”
They saluted as he stalked off. His mind was already wandering over the thousand tasks a battlefield commander was responsible for long before their arms dropped. The prisoners bothered him immensely for reasons he still wasn’t sure of. Worse, without any enemy commander, there was simply no way of knowing how strong the garrison had been. There was no telling how many, if any, people slipped away to warn the rest of Harnin’s defensive line when the attack began. That old feeling of guilt and remorse started creeping back into Piper’s conscience.
“This was a messy affair.”
Piper immediately felt some of the tension leave. Vajna had started out a fervent enemy, but their alliance forged bonds of comradeship only soldiers understood. Piper had come to rely on the Rogscroft general’s experience and opinions more as the campaign lengthened. He might even go so far as to say they were becoming friends. Men in their position seldom found the opportunity or desire to make friends. Friends die too easily over the course of a war.
“Tell me about it. I didn’t expect the reservists to put up such resistance,” Piper admitted. “It shouldn’t have been this hard, Vajna.”
“Makes you wonder just how bad taking all of the other forts is going to be, eh?”
Piper wasn’t ready to broach that subject just yet. He’d had his fill trying to sack the first one. Casualties were relatively light. He figured no more than twenty-five dead with another three times that wounded. Not that bad considering. Of course those numbers would be significantly smaller if he’d had artillery support. His memory danced back to the initial explosion though technically it was more of a collapse. The engineers had snuck in under cover of darkness and weakened a large portion of the wall while infantry and skirmishers crept as close to the fort as possible. The noise of so many logs and mortar collapsing in on itself was deafening. It was certainly loud enough to shake the garrison out of their slumber. Piper’s respect for his engineer corps continued to strengthen.
“I don’t suppose there’s any coffee?” he asked.
Vajna snorted a brief laugh. “The battle’s been over for almost two hours. The cooks had damned well better have coffee brewing. Breakfast as well. The boys work up a mighty hunger doing all this dirty work. I wouldn’t mind a quick bite myself.”
“I was under the impression generals ate last,” Piper chided.
Frowning, Vajna agreed. “Aye, that we do. But the rules don’t extend to coffee.”
“As much as I’d love to indulge in your idea, I’m afraid it’s going to have to wait for the moment,” Piper said. “I have the prisoners being brought here.”
“Prisoners? I wasn’t aware we’d caught any.”
“Barely. We nabbed three before they managed to kill themselves on our steel.” He paused as he caught the three prisoners being escorted by a squad of Wolfsreik armed with crossbows and drawn swords. “It appears they’ve arrived.”
Vajna scrutinized the trio. Killing had never been a problem, though he took no personal pleasure in any of it. Just part of the job, he told himself before falling asleep. “Let’s hope their tongues are as loose are their swords. There had best be coffee waiting when we’re done.”
Piper smiled. The same lieutenant halted a few paces from Piper and saluted. “Commander, the prisoners as ordered.”
“Very good, lieutenant,” Piper said, returning the salute. “You’re dismissed.”
“Sir? Is that wise? These men are considered dangerous,” he asked, momentarily forgetting proper military decorum.
Piper waved his caution off. “I think the general and I are more than capable of handling three bound prisoners. Just don’t go too far.”
“Yes sir.”
“Oh and lieutenant, could you send someone over to the mess station and get General Vajna a mug of coffee?” Piper asked.
Trying, and failing, to conceal his sheepish grin, the lieutenant saluted again. “Yes sir. I’m sure the cooks will be more than willing to comply.”
Piper turned to the prisoners. Two appeared to be in their late teens. Both had several bandaged cuts peppering their bodies. The one on the right had an eye filled with blood and was missing a handful of teeth. Their older companion looked to have been involved in more than a few scrapes over the years. His left arm was in a sling with three of the fingers on the same hand missing. Blood stained his chin-length beard. Piper knew where to begin.
“Gentlemen, I trust you’ve been taken care of, medically?” Piper asked. His eyes locked on the grizzled reservist.
Spitting a mouthful of blood, Blood Beard replied, “Ain’t got nothing to say to the likes of you. Kill us or send us away.”
“Don’t you think we’ve all been through enough? I don’t think killing the three of you will satisfy any requirements,” Piper said. “You’ve earned your lives, I think. Now, let us dispense with the posturing and foolishness. Why did Harnin order you to fight like that?”
“I ain’t never seen the One Eye. We’re fighting for our kingdom.”
Piper exchanged a nervous glance with Vajna. “Your kingdom? The same kingdom Harnin One Eye has all but destroyed?”
“Like I said, don’t know nothing about that,” Blood Beard said. “We heard all about you murdering bastards coming back from the east. Don’t none of us fancy dying without givin’ our families a chance.”
“I think your notion of what has transpired needs adjusting. What exactly have you heard about the Wol
fsreik?” Vajna asked.
Blood Beard eyed him wearily. “You ain’t no Delrananian. They got mercenaries to do their biddin’ now?”
“This man is a general in the Rogscroft army,” Piper growled. “You might not have heard we are allies now.”
Blood Beard shrugged. “This was never my war. Old One Eye says we’ve been betrayed by you Wolf soldiers and the only way to survive is by fightin’ to the last.” He spit again. “Only regret I didn’t go like the rest o’ the boys.”
“Pointless deaths are without honor,” Piper said. “We haven’t returned to kill you. Hells, we don’t rightly care whether you fight or go back to your homes. King Badron betrayed the kingdom and we acted in Delranan’s best interests.”
“Says you.”
Frustrated, Piper realized further questioning was pointless. “I’m having you sent back to the main army for holding. Your wounds will be treated and you’ll be fed. Don’t do anything stupid and nothing wrong will happen to you. Am I understood?”
The trio remained defiantly silent.
Scowling, Piper summoned the escorts to take the prisoners away. He didn’t calm down until after they were out of sight and a steaming cup of coffee sat before both him and Vajna. The sun was slowly rising, pushing enough past dawn for them to make out the world around them. Smoke still clung to the area and more vultures were getting bolder.
“That went well,” Vajna said and almost laughed.
Piper didn’t know what to say. He’d expected demons and witchcraft but was met by pure ignorance. “How can simple persuasion be so powerful? Are we fighting on the right side of this war?”
“You’re asking the wrong questions, Piper. My conscience is clear to this damned affair. We’re not just fighting for ourselves but for the preservation of our way of life. These blind fools aren’t much for great thinkers if you ask me.”
“Perhaps, but the Wolfsreik has already switched sides once. There must be some conflict of interest in this mess,” Piper persisted. “You would think those prisoners felt at least a measure of remorse for having watched so many of their kinsmen die.”
“You can’t change people’s minds when they’re convinced, no matter how hard you wish it,” Vajna answered. “Those fellows knew what they were doing. Harnin had them all spun up to think we were coming to kill them all. If you think about it their defiance makes sense. I don’t think I’d have the courage they displayed, though. Tough bastards, that’s for sure. I only hope the other forts we run up against lack the same conviction.”
Piper wanted to comment that the defenders were of the same blood as the Wolfsreik. Nothing was bound to be easy. His premonitions aside, he felt confident breaking the defensive line would be trying but a victorious endeavor before too long. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt almost rushed. Time never meant too much to Piper, but now, finally back in his own kingdom, he felt the seconds slowly slipping away as they marched towards an uncertain end.
“Hey, you listening?”
Shaken from his premonitions, Piper turned back to Vajna. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”
Vajna shrugged. “There’s not much that needs thinking on. We’ve got a war to win, and I’ll be damned if this isn’t the worst cup of coffee I ever drank. The cooks need to be sent to the front lines.”
“You presume they’re better swordsmen than cooks. Ha.” Piper laughed. “Of course, our enemies might not appreciate a bad meal.”
“That makes two of us,” the Rogscroft general agreed. “Looks like a rider’s come in. I guess Rolnir is here.”
“The army should have been moving down from the mountains the moment we launched our assault.”
He didn’t add that the operation’s success depended on speed. The faster the combined army wiped out the defensive line of fortresses the faster they’d be able to push westward and reconquer their kingdom.
Instead Piper decided it was time to admit his orders to his friend. “Vajna, I’m afraid I already have my orders.”
“Great, where are we heading next?”
Piper shook his head. “Not this time. Rolnir and Aurec agreed that I am to lead the assault on the second fortress while you maintain control of the vanguard. I’m heading out as soon as the lead infantry units arrive.”
Vajna was instantly angered. He’d never wanted to be teamed up with one of his enemies in the first place but after several battles and days on campaign he and Piper had formed bonds that only soldiers can. They’d overcome kingdom differences to forge a near perfect union of military complements. Vajna was a born infantryman whereas Piper had a head for tactics and cavalry. Together they were responsible for winning seven battles for the fledgling combined army. No other pair of commanders matched their prowess or success.
“They’re splitting us up? I should be going with you,” he protested. “You’ll need me in the next assault.”
“I agree, but that’s not my decision to make. Your king and my commanding officer believe you serve better purpose for the war by remaining here with the vanguard. I suspect, but can’t prove, that they intend on driving the main body west while I slug it out with the rest of the defensive line.” Piper paused, shifting his lower jaw slowly. “I’d rather be going with you. Taking another ten of these monsters isn’t going to be fun, or easy.”
“I expect you’ll suffer fierce casualties given what we went through here,” Vajna added. His voice darkened. Logically he should be the one to lead the assault on the forts. Delranan was Piper’s kingdom, not his. The Wolfsreik needed to be seen leading the drive across their own lands in efforts to maintain a measure of security among the population. His people didn’t take kindly to seeing a foreign army sweeping across Rogscroft. Vajna didn’t imagine the Delrananians would differ much.
“Let us hope not,” Piper concluded. He extended his arm for Vajna and the two shook as brothers. “Take care of yourself, old timer. I have a feeling our two kingdoms are going to need people like you when the dust finally settles.”
Vajna laughed and gave his steadily expanding belly a soft pat. “Old my ass! You’ll pay for those words when we meet in Chadra.”
Nothing else needed saying. Both were seasoned professionals and had been through similar circumstances too many times before. It was just part of the job. Piper headed towards the front of their makeshift camp. Each had a specific purpose in this new phase of the war. Should the gods will it, they would meet again after the hostilities ended.
TEN
Homecomings
“My lord, we weren’t expecting you.”
Venten waved off the unnecessary concern from Elstep, the house chamberlain, as he swept into what remained of Rogscroft castle. The elder statesman begrudgingly admitted the renovations had come a long way since Badron’s defilement. Men and women busied with sweeping, painting, cleaning, and removing broken furniture and debris. Few bothered to stop and acknowledge his passing. Nor did he expect them to. He wasn’t a king or even a noble. In fact, Venten wanted nothing more than to fade back into obscurity, much the way he’d been transitioning before the war started.
Thoughts of being a retired general and politician had to wait as he was determined to uphold the charge Aurec had given him. He was the voice of the king, an extension of wills manifested in the form of one person with the unmitigated ability to choose how and where his kingdom began the healing process. Any self-assured whispers he spoke in the quiet hours of the night seemed insignificant in comparison to the enormity of the task before him. Venten was given a handful of ruins, the remnants of a broken people, a skeleton military force, and told to rebuild an entire kingdom. It was a daunting task, one he wasn’t sure if he could accomplish or not.
Thankfully the tenacity of his people already shined in the darkness before dawn. He viewed a ramshackle village housing more than five hundred refugees. Mounted patrols circled the city and castle proper, providing the necessary protection to assuage the general population’s fears. The sounds of hammers and sa
ws working throughout the night suggested all was not lost. That his people remained strong despite their losses. Venten took hope. Perhaps they had a chance of rebuilding it after all.
Venten glanced at the partially removed burn marks scoring the wall inside the castle entrance. “No need to fret, Elstep. I’m only an extension of the king, not the king himself.”
“Begging yer pardon, sir, but yer more than that,” Elstep protested. “Word’s already come from Grunmarrow that you are the acting regent.”
“Elstep, truly, I appreciate the deference but it’s only me. Now, where do we stand on reconstruction efforts?”
Elstep shrugged. “Eh, can’t speak for most a the city but the castle is almost habitable. Crews been working round the clock to remove the filth them Goblins left behind. Vile creatures they was. At any rate, the throne room is cleaned and ready for a new throne. Most of the royal chambers are getting there. The kitchen’s been running since before you left for the war so there’s food and drink aplenty for the work crews. All in all I’d say the castle is progressing nicely.”
“Nicely isn’t good enough, my friend,” Venten said quietly. “We’ve got a very large charge set before us. Aurec expects the city to be taken care of first. Royalty has its privileges and our young king has decided the population comes first. I want all but a skeleton crew shifted over to the city. The sooner we get homes and shops rebuilt the sooner we can concentrate on renewing trade with our neighbors and try to get our economy moving again. Winter is nearly finished, despite the feet of snow still refusing to melt, and I expect our trials will lessen considerably once we have free range of the roads and mountain passes again. Who is in charge of the reconstruction?”
“Don’t reckon I heard his name but I’ll send a lad out to get him once the sun comes up. Why don’t you head down and get some food in yer belly before he arrives? I’ll send him up to the antechamber for you.”
Even Gods Must Fall Page 9
