by Guy Antibes
Tishiaki furrowed his brow. “Why would you do that? Our men and women would become exposed.”
Anchor laughed. “I wasn’t thinking about my men and women. What if Histron occupies these fortifications, filling them up with his soldiers and we come back and knock the walls down.”
“Let’s get Shiro over here and find out,” Tishiaki said. “I like the way you think, Anchor.”
Anchor had been looking for more strategies ever since he met with the king and his generals. The fortifications became a wrinkle in defending Learsea and he doubted that Histron would risk sending his forces through his string of keeps, even if they were strong. He’d have think of other possibilities. An invasion from the south still bothered him. He wished that Chika’s half of the Red Rose were in Learsea, but Lotto and Duke Jellas needed the wizardry strength to keep Histron bottled up in the Red Kingdom.
Shiro walked up and slapped the wall. “This should be sturdy enough.”
“What if we wanted to take the fort down after the war? How could we do that?”
The question got Shiro to rub his chin. He pursed his lips and put his hand on the wall and then withdrew it.
“Perhaps I could do this,” he said. He extended his arm like he did when he tested the wall for hardness and narrowed his eyes. In a moment, the dirt began to soften and flow from a circle three feet in diameter. In moments the six-foot thick wall had a hole large enough to fit a man crawling through. “Something I learned from Lotto’s actions in Happly.”
Anchor nodded in agreement and slapped the wall on either side. It still seemed just as hard. “We may have the best backup strategy yet. We let Histron’s army take the keeps. He will feel secure enough to move his men towards Learsea. At the right time, we destroy the forts and the army is exposed. He won’t know what to think when we attack without siege engines. What do you think?”
Shiro tilted his head. “With a little practice, we can probably make so the walls fall on them.” He smiled. “Now I must figure out how far away that magic will work.”
“It’s now your problem, Shiro. I can worry about other things. I like having many options. It makes finding solutions so much easier.”
~
Shiro worried more about Chika than he did tearing down the walls. In a few days, he could teleport to Crackledown. Perhaps she would be there. He pulled out the Sunstone and called Sallia. She spoke to him through the stone.
“How go the preparations at Crackledown?” Shiro asked.
“Is Anchor there?” Sallia said. Shiro could sense anticipation in her voice.
“Should he be?”
“No. I trust you’ll let him know that Prince Peeron has been a royal pain. Tell him that Peeron is worse than I ever was. But he’d be worse there with you. Let him know we are doing our part in ensuring your success by entertaining him here in Crackledown.”
Shiro laughed. “I will. Has Chika arrived yet?” He knew she wouldn’t have.
“Oh. Her forces have been assigned to the Border Keep in Everwet. She should be there today or tomorrow. Anchor knows the place. We had an interesting communication with Princess Restella a few days ago. She headed directly to the Oringia capital, just like you expected Histron to do to Learsea. Lotto reminded her of Happly and Anchor’s strategy and she’s still fighting Oringians, but no longer is trying to plunge inside the country.”
“As long as she can keep them from the Learsea border.” Shiro said. “Do you have any words for Anchor?”
“Just tell him to keep safe and I am thinking of him.”
“I’ll tell him,” Shiro said. “Goodbye.” He put the Sunstone back into his sword and fixed it in place with a little magic. He hadn’t displayed the stone for some time and perhaps he needed it in his sword. He’d use it with Anchor to locate the village of Everwet. He would like to hold Chika in his arms again and banter for a bit. He smiled as he walked out of his tent to assemble his best wizards. He had no desire to let Anchor down on those walls.
~
Restella sheathed her sword after dispatching the last of the enemy around her. Her officers and personal guard leaned against their swords, breathing deeply. She would show them more discipline. The Oringians fought more like she had expected, now that her forces advanced on a much broader front. She mounted an Oringian horse. Her own hadn’t made it through the battle. As she made her way through the carnage, she shook her head at the extent of her losses. Still the Oringian army couldn’t take much more of this battering. Her enemy’s casualties dwarfed hers.
She reached her tent and went inside. Out of everyone’s view, she collapsed on her cot without taking off armor or weapons. She noticed that a crossbow bolt decorated her shoulder plate. Another few inches and she would be wounded, again. Another few minutes on the cot and she could get up…
“Princess General,” a voice said loudly from outside her tent.
Restella blinked herself awake and rose to a sitting position. Her body ached as she began to remove her armor. Every muscle in her arms cried out for relief. She smiled. There would be none coming as she had learned to enjoy the pain after a fight well won.
She walked over to her wash stand and threw water on her face and hair. She pushed her wet locks back and called out. “I am ready. Come in.”
“We were worried, General. You were silent in your tent for three hours.”
Restella smiled and pursed her lips. “The battle consumed my strength. I slept. It isn’t the first time.”
Captain Montford nodded. “It isn’t for any of us. You fought bravely, as usual.”
She accepted the compliment and threw it back at her chief of staff. “As did you. As did us all. Any word on casualties? Any birds from the other commands?”
“We lost seventy men with one-hundred ninety two men requiring healer attention. No mages were lost, but neither side employed any magic. The Oringians sacrificed six hundred and twelve that we could count. Eleven casualties left behind. They killed most of their wounded as they withdrew.”
Restella sat back down. Nearly eight hundred Bessethians lost. Lord Daryaku continued to let Bessethian kill itself as he sat unharmed far, far away. Restella yearned to meet him on the battlefield and give him a taste of her sword’s steel, not a touch of her Moonstone.
“Birds?”
“Yes. Montford’s forces engaged maybe five hundred men. It appeared to be a flanking move. Nothing from Sumbard’s command. I assume they haven’t engaged the latest wave of Oringians. It looks like Lotto Mistad correctly identified the Oringian trap.”
Restella resented Lotto’s intervention, but she had to admit, he had saved her from disaster. Her feelings for the man waxed and waned since the link. She didn’t care if he knew it or not, but she did care that his affection for the Princess Sallia leaked out from time to time during their communications and the emotions at odd times. But then she thought kindly of her. Restella couldn’t detect any mutual affection through the link. The passions in Happly had been spent a few weeks after they had rescued her father.
“How many Oringian dead altogether now?”
“More than seven thousand. We estimate we’ve destroyed of 25% of their army.”
The constant battles over the last two weeks had even slaked Restella’s thirst for the enemy’s blood. “We will collect our forces and wheel towards Port Scarlet on the southeastern border with Learsea and then we’ll head back west to Valetan. It looks like Duke Histron is preparing to enter Learsea and we don’t want the Oringians to join them do we?”
Montford smiled. “Indeed we don’t. I would guess your latest proposal to defend Learsea’s northern border has succeeded?”
“Captain, it’s not a matter of success. I do what needs to be done to protect Valetan and then we help our allies. Think of a way to employ pickets along Oringia’s southern border and the same along the border with Valetan. It’s mid-summer and Histron’s due to make a move.”
“Yes, ma’am. Are you hungry, General?”
Restella nodded. Now that he mentioned it, she could eat a horse. No, she chided herself. Her horse lay on the battlefield and she didn’t think she could choke down horsemeat like the rankers would be doing tonight and for days to come.
“Fowl? Rabbit? Anything but horse.” Restella felt her task had been completed here. It was time to find something else to do.
~
Sallia eyed Lotto pacing in her small office as she entered. She’d been given it at the Border Keep at Everwet village. She had requested to join the alliance headquarters and had already walked the streets of the village, erasing any latent demons that her experience might come to life. None appeared and for that, Sallia felt relieved.
Lotto had just communicated with Restella and he wasn’t particularly pleased. He stopped and turned to her. “They were tested and they turned back the Oringians with fewer casualties than they suffered just going toe to toe with them. Restella’s defensive formations have held in Oringia and they took Port Scarlet. The Learsean garrison on the other side of the estuary has sent sufficient men to hold the port along with a number of Learsean warships. ”
“That’s good news, right? Why do you look so glum?”
“Restella is heading to Beckondale and then south to us. She’s given her command over to Captain, or should I say Captain-General Montford.”
“Why don’t you invite Mander Hart to join her? Has Chika been successful in teaching you how to teleport?”
Lotto shook his head. “It’s not a matter of power, but there’s something else that I do that makes every attempt an adventure. I have been strongly advised to practice much more or give up trying. You don’t mind if I leave?”
“We are still preparing for battle. Go to Beckondale and see your friend Kenyr when you bring back Mander Hart. You’ll need another person to leaven Restella’s emotions.”
“You understand me so well, Sallia. I’ve needed someone to talk things over about her. I’m not sure I’m ready to be with her again.”
Sallia squinted her eyes and looked out the window, not focusing on anything. “Why don’t we split the Valetan forces and treat her like Prince Peeron.”
“She won’t stand for a token force like the Prince has.”
“It doesn’t matter if she commands most of the Valetan forces or all of them, does it? Won’t Mander be involved in any final decisions? We just put her in the field. From what you describe, she’d prefer that anyway.”
Lotto brightened. Trust Sallia to come up with the best solution. That’s why he sought her out. “I will do it. I need a break from all the tension.” He took Sallia’s hand and kissed it. He dared not go any further. “I will make preparations.”
Sallia smiled. “You do that, Lotto.” She poked her head out of her little office and watched him walk down the dark corridor of the small keep.
Sallia rubbed her hand. Lotto was such a nice person. Honorable, forthright, and tortured. Restella’s ardor cooled into an even acceptance of their relationship. Lotto had described how awful she was before they linked. Sallia felt badly. He didn’t need the distraction. She had lumped him into the same category as Restella and perhaps herself. Young people thrust into creating battle strategies and political strategies before experience had tempered them.
Anchor and the somewhat older Shiro had seemed to jump out of that mold into something else. Lotto had good ideas and she could accept his advice, but Anchor painted with broad strokes. He acted as if he had experience, but added some magic to his proposals. She laughed at the thought. Anchor was as bereft of talent as she was. Shiro had told her so.
Her thoughts turned back to suggesting the mysterious Mander Hart. He had visited Foxhome a number of times, but Sallia had never encountered him. Lotto had told her such marvelous tales about the man. Duke Jellas verified that most of them were true.
She welcomed another experienced leader to add to the alliance’s council and reduce the irritation of Prince Peeron. At times she felt the itch to proceed, but she knew Lessa still hadn’t returned from Prola with his additional forces. He would be traveling through Histo to make sure there wouldn’t be any mischief from that direction.
She sat down on the hard chair that she drew close to the well-worn table that served as her desk. She had few papers. Perhaps she’d write down some questions for Anchor. She’d promised him that she would and never did. She smiled. If Lotto had time to go to Beckondale, she had time to write a letter to Anchor. Maybe his spirits needed lifting.
~~~
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
~
“MARSHAL, THE CONSCRIPTS ARE USELESS,” Leef said.
Anchor sat at a long table made of two stout doors held up with wooden boxes. They would serve. The forces of the Red Kingdom had finally decided to muster in the Northeast and it was already mid-summer. The farmers from the surrounding lands had never participated in battle. There were always negative consequences for peaceful kingdoms in time of war.
King Billeas always had a border conflict going on one time or another among his dukes and barons that he had to mediate. Now Anchor knew why the late king always drew local men. He trained them in the basics. Now that training would be used against the very forces assembling to save them from Histron’s iron rule.
It didn’t take many refugees from the Red Kingdom, finding their way over the mountains and into Learsea, to learn of the crippling taxes and brutal tax collectors all but extorting money and supplies from the populace without giving anything in return. How did Sally’s Corner’s fare? It seemed like ages ago and that part of the world was merely a pleasant dream.
He pulled himself out of his thoughts. “Break them down into smaller units. Don’t teach them to become experienced soldiers. Teach them how to fight to protect themselves first. If they can do that, they will stall the enemy. Then you can bring them together to learn how to defend and attack as units. Our expectations just might be too high.”
“Never thought of that before, Anchor. Where do you come up with these ideas?”
Sometimes Anchor wish he knew. “Common sense, Leef. I just let my mind relax and it gives me a solution. Common sense.”
“Uncommon sense, if you ask me.”
“No,” Anchor said. Anyone could have adjusted the training activities.
“I’ll spread the word.”
“Do that,” Anchor said. He glanced at the maps before him. They had left most of the experienced soldiers at the fortifications that now lined ten day’s march. Still, less than halfway from Learsea to the border. Another few keeps and he could begin to unfold his layered traps. He needed more trained soldiers. Perhaps he made a mistake, letting Willom’s General take half of the army to the south.
Shiro walked in. “I suppose Leef told you about the farmers? He’s too hard on them. We know about farmers,” Shiro said, shaking his head.
“How are your people doing on melting the keeps?”
The Ropponi grinned. “A mix of five sorcerers of various strengths can reduce the forts to a pile of dirt in less than two hours.”
Anchor pursed his lips. “And ten wizards?”
“Forty minutes, maybe less.” Shiro’s grin widened even further. “Ask me what twenty will do.”
Anchor had to smile at Shiro’s beaming face. “What will twenty do?”
“Ten minutes. We tested it this morning. I made them build a new one from the pile. They are still at it. That is what they get for doing such a good job.”
“At least something’s going right, my Ropponi friend. I feel I’m missing an element of our strategy. My goal is that once Histron sets foot in Learsea, he’ll regret it.”
Shiro furrowed his brow for a second. “What if he doesn’t?”
“Doesn’t what?”
“Head east? What if he assembles his forces and leads his army west towards Gensler. He’ll roll up all of Gensler’s—”
“Border keeps and walk all over South Gensler. They won’t have a strategy for that. How about a li
ttle visit to Chika after you’ve told me how you’d handle training the farmers?” Anchor said. Shiro to Anchor was like Anchor to Leef. Shiro’s mind was constantly in motion, just as his own. He didn’t know what he’d do without the Ropponi. They were a very good combination as well as good friends.
~
Anchor looked forward to seeing Sallia again. He held a reply to the letter she had sent on Shiro’s last visit to Chika. After weeks with no correspondence, she finally sent him questions about various things. He wondered why she asked him about farming and how villages were organized. He didn’t doubt that she would need to know such things. It gave him little opportunity to test her feelings for him, but he gladly answered. Presenting the answers in writing would give her the chance to use his answers for reference. Shiro knew enough about farming to round out his response with enough information to Sallia to be useful. His practical experience farming himself was restricted to giving advice to Willow’s son, Hal, at his holding outside of Sally’s Corners.
He had to laugh. Unca and Anchor both didn’t think their advice to be earth-shattering, but he always prided himself on using common sense. He chuckled again as he thought of his conversation with Leef. Common sense. Not royal sense. He sighed. She would outgrow his advice at some point, he feared. Especially with all of the training she had rubbing shoulders with Lotto, Duke Jellas, Lessa and now Mander Hart.
Rubbing shoulders. He smiled. Chika would have something to say about that. She and Shiro would be rubbing shoulders tonight. A bout of melancholy overtook him as he waited for Shiro.
Shiro poked his head into his tent. “Ready?”
Anchor looked around to see if there might be something else to bring, but he didn’t see anything. He patted his chest, feeling the letter.
Shiro walked through the tent door and took his hand.
Anchor blinked and he stood on the main street of Everwet, looking at the inn where had fought for Sallia. He walked through the open doors and found the innkeeper.
“A quick ale for me and some wine for my friend.”
