The Olvion Reality (The Chronicles of Olvion Book 1)

by Larry Robbins

  “I am required to offer you safe exit.”

  “Consider it returned in kind. We both know that will not occur.”

  “It could. You have more free will than I. You can choose to withdraw. I am bound by the task given me by the Awareness.”

  “The curse of the White! Would it really be so wrong to disobey? Challenge it? How can you be certain that you cannot ignore it if you do not try? Withdraw. Live a long life.”

  “I do not wish to disobey. I am bound to my task. And I am here to earn my name.”

  “As am I.”

  There was a soft rustle, unseen in the other room. The other being strode slowly and gracefully into the main chamber. It looked like another Mountain Child, but larger, nearly twice as big. It was silver in color with the face, feet and tip of the tail being a shiny black.

  “You are old to have no name.”

  “True. I have spent much time on this. But I shall grow even older after tonight. You shall not.”

  “You can earn your name without causing so much death.”

  There was a brief cessation in their interaction when the large and hairy body on the cot snorted loudly and turned over.

  The silver animal continued. “True again. But I wish to earn a great name and have an exciting life. I am not content to lie in the meadows and watch clouds drift. You will not find me napping among the Browns.”

  “The Browns are the most fortunate among us. They are subject to no edict but to enjoy their lives. Only Whites are summoned by the Awarness. Only Silvers are driven to gather power unto themselves. My task takes me from my family to remove your stain on this world. You are cursed. I wish only to prevent unnecessary death to my kind and the humans. You hunger for death that need not happen. All for power. All for a name.”

  “For a great name. This new war has been forming for hundreds of seasons. I am simply taking sides in the struggle. You cannot stop me. You are young and small and female and do not have the strength. ”

  “But that is their struggle and not ours. The Awareness has helped them to avoid another war for so long. Others of your kind have attempted what you seek and have failed. Walk away. Earn a lesser name. Let me go home and lie peacefully in the meadows with the Browns.”

  “It is too late. I have already helped him. The dawn will bring many surprises for your humans.” The silver animal turned to look at the sleeping monster on the cot. “I found him a long time ago. He is special. He has strength and I have knowledge. His primitive mind is more easily communicated with. Even using his words is not so difficult. Not like it is with your precious humans. Together we will rule this land. I am connected to him just as you are connected to your human. It is only fair, you help the other side.”

  “You care little for fairness. This is about power. The Silvers have never been able to accept that they are not the only ones with the ability to track the mindscent and connect with other species. Your kind seeks out death and pain the way we seek out peace. The Awareness sends us to help the humans so we can all have peace. You help the grey monsters in order to benefit from their blood thirst. They barely have a mindscent. You wish them to conquer because then the silvers will actually rule behind them. You will use their strength to cause more death and try to remove the White Mountain Children from this world. And then what? With us gone, who else will you destroy?”

  “When that happens, we will see.”

  CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

  The Tent

  I stayed hidden in the branches of the big bush for about thirty minutes. I strained my ears trying to hear what was going on inside. It was useless. The noise from the camp drowned out everything else. I looked up to the sky and saw that the cloud cover had now spread to the other moon, diminishing the available light. It was a good thing for me. I was not a small figure and I needed any advantage I could get to stay hidden.

  Tinker had urged me to complete my destiny after I had gotten her close to the tent. I took that to mean that I had to use every advantage I had at my disposal to weaken the Greys. I didn’t know what I could do against over a hundred thousand raving Grey cannibals but I guess my ego was just large enough to convince me that I might make a small difference before being overwhelmed and stopped. I sat in the leaves of the big bush, knowing that the dawn was coming. In the sunlight my hiding place would be useless.

  I thought about Ruguer and Zander while I waited. What would they think of my disobeying my explicit orders to stay inside the city walls? Would they be disappointed in me? Would Dwan be ostracized once the story leaked out? That would be a horrible injustice since she would have had no idea that I had even gone until she read my note. But there was no way for me to change anything now. Especially since I probably would not live much longer than daybreak.

  Just as the sky was getting pinkish I heard faint sounds emanating from the city. It was just random noise at first. There was a clang of metal meeting stone, then the snort of a horse. One of the more alert enemy guards stood from the rock upon which he had been perched and sniffed the air in the direction of the city. The others appeared unfazed.

  I heard more horse sounds, then some rattling noises. Some more clinks and clanks.

  “Oh No,” I thought. “Not now!”

  But the sounds were increasing. Multiplying. A few more enemy guards took notice. I saw one kneel to waken another that I assumed was an officer. I had no doubt about what was happening now. Ruguer had decided to attack while we were at our strongest. The sounds were those of thousands of our warriors assembling behind the walls as quietly as humanly possible.

  I glanced around again. The Grey’s sentries were still trying to decide what the noises meant. I guessed that rousing an officer for a false alarm had a less than pleasant result. Still, more were putting two and two together. Officers were being roused. Two or three of them were now standing and watching the city gates.

  Then, with unbelievable suddenness, all four of the main gates on the East side of the city dropped open with a crash as the huge counterweights fell and spun the equally huge gears to which they were connected.

  Now the Grey guards and sentries were rushing among their sleeping brethren, kicking and shouting. The camp was coming to life. Alarms were shouted. Somewhere a hanging metal gong was being sounded. I looked to the black leather tent that was standing by itself. Two Greys were running toward it, shouting. The two went inside and I tensed, ready to sprint across the open ground to Tinker’s defense. Luckily, the two emerged a few seconds afterward with their king held suspended between them.

  The king was in obviously poor shape. I watched as he angrily shoved both of his junior officers away from him. He then leaned forward with his hands on his knees and vomited onto the ground in front of him. One of the two subordinates yelled at him and pointed towards the city walls. The king slapped him on the ear, knocking him to the ground. The other officer looked away, obviously fearing that he might receive the same treatment from his monarch. The drunken king retched again then wiped his mouth with a forearm. He shouted something to one of the two underlings. The Grey dashed into the tent and came back out with a mug of some type of liquid. The Grey King snatched it and swallowed the contents.

  While this was transpiring I could hear the booted footsteps of our warriors as they dashed through the gates, over the bridges and out toward the open area in front of the enemy campsites. I saw an initial force of thousands of infantry scrambling to get out across the bridges and assembled into defensive positions before the Greys could react and form up. Two long lines of infantry fell into position and were followed by hundreds of burden beasts pulling wagons on top of which rested our new crossbow cannons. On each wagon rode the crews who were designated to operate the crossbows. Behind each of the crossbow wagons was another wagon which I knew to be carrying the short and deadly iron bolts with which to supply the weapons. These wagons also had wide platforms projecting out on either side. The wagons and cannon made up our third line of defense.


  I glanced back to the tent, wondering what had happened to Tinker after she’d gone inside. I reached out with my mind struggling to make contact with her. I failed to do so. I lay stretched out in the foliage struggling with my desire to run to her aid yet not seeing any indications that she had even been noticed by the beasts. I knew that exposing myself would mean being set upon by dozens of the enemy fighters but I was fully prepared to take my chances if it became apparent that she was in danger. I reminded myself that she still had not told me exactly what she was wanting to accomplish inside the tent of the Grey King. My rushing inside might stymie her efforts.

  Now the Grey King had finally taken notice of the fact that the Olvionis were preparing for an attack outside of the city walls. He was being helped into his fancy gold armor by several slaves and one of the two officers who had roused him. He was shouting orders and spraying saliva at all who were close to him, angry that so many of our warriors were able to get out across the no man’s land in front of the castle and into good defensive formations.

  It appeared to me that the numbers of Greys had shrunk by a significant measure. That was a welcome situation if it turned out to be true but we still had at least eighty to a hundred thousand of the foul-smelling beasts with which to contend.

  Catching the enemy still in bed was aiding our efforts. As I watched about half of our sixty thousand infantry troops were now out of the walls and into position. Recruiting efforts and drafting had swelled our ranks to a total of sixty two thousand infantry, two thousand cavalry and twenty five hundred civilians pressed into service to stay behind and defend the walls against a surprise attack there. More infantry were streaming out of the gates and the “cannon” crews were busily setting up, loading and aiming their weapons.

  I saw no traces of our cavalry and wondered what Ruguer was holding them in reserve for. Whatever plans Gallan, Vynn and myself devised our Commander always retained absolute control of our mounted forces. He would take his time and see how the battle was taking shape before committing our most effective troops. Whatever scheme he had in mind it was certain to spell disaster for the Grey fighters.

  Our warriors had arranged themselves into a formation shaped like a huge, blunt arrowhead with the point directed at the middle of the enemy encampments. Because I had had a hand in devising our attack plans I knew that the front line was composed of some ten thousand of our physically largest and heaviest warriors. This was another adjustment and (hopefully) improvement over our last battle. Like before they were all well-armored and carried large, heavy shields which they wedged into the ground before them. The shields were odd-looking contraptions insomuch as they were flatter and larger than normal shields. I had had some input into a change in the construction of those shields. It had kept our iron workers at a frantic pace for days and I was anxious to see if it helped. But I was also eager to join in. I felt my place was in the middle of that front line. But I could not bear to leave Tinker in that tent all alone and unprotected. Once again I reached out to her mentally but, again, with no result.

  The sun was getting higher in the sky now and I scooted back into the branches of the bush as deeply as I could go, trying to limit the chances of my being spotted. Thankfully, the action that was taking place in front of the city walls was keeping the enemy distracted.

  Owing to the insights and design genius of Geord, the cannon had been constructed to be able to employ two totally different types of missiles. The large pole-like shafts that were employed to destroy the trebuchets were good for attacking larger targets and fortified positions. The smaller iron bolts were primarily for whittling down the enemy’s numbers while they were unprotected such as when they were attacking. Even the heavy wooden shields favored by the Greys could not stop the heavy projectiles. Geord had fitted each weapon with a removable top rail that featured a single large groove on one side and three smaller grooves on the other. Changing to the side that was desired was a simple process of undoing three large wingnuts and flipping the rail over. I knew that the cannon in the field today were rigged to accept the iron bolts. Each triggering of the weapon would send three deadly iron projectiles streaking into our enemy’s lines.

  Our front line with the odd shields was backed up by another group of infantry directly behind them. This men in this contingent also were armored and had shields but these shields were twice as wide as those of the first row. That was another part of our surprise.

  Behind that second row were located the cannon and their crews. All of the new weapons had been loaded and the warriors manning them sat high up in the wagons giving them a clear view of the battlefield over the heads of their fellow warriors. The wagons were purposely built high so the weapons could be employed over the heads of our warriors.

  While the Olvionis were still surging outside of the gates I saw yellow flags being hoisted from the castle walls and, in turn, waved from a dozen of our signalmen on horseback. At the sight of the flag signal each cannon crew made small adjustments to the height and direction of the weapons. Then, before the Greys could get fully organized, the yellow flags were dropped and black ones raised. As one, the two hundred huge crossbow cannon fired six hundred heavy iron missiles. I watched transfixed as the stubby iron bolts arced beautifully and perfectly up high into the air then seemed to hang there for a heartbeat before dropping with their weighted points facing downward.

  Screams and shouts erupted from the Greys as thousands sought cover from the deadly deluge of iron. Our cannon crew captains had chosen only the densest clusters of enemy fighters and the bolts soared out of the sky and sank deeply into grey flesh. As usual, few Greys had bothered to equip themselves with shields. The few shields that were present were now being fought over or crowded underneath. The heavy iron bolts had little difficulty penetrating them.

  We had hoped to get an average of one strike for every three bolts that were launched. On this first strike, when we had the enemy unaware of the danger, it looked to me as if we had achieved as many as two out of three. If I was correct that meant that four hundred Greys had died in an instant.

  As soon as the first barrage was fired the crews were cranking the double bows to bend them back with the charging levers. More bolts were loaded and launched. The result, at least for now, was just what we had been hoping for. The targeted enemy formations, already undisciplined, were devolving into chaos even though the number of Greys being killed or wounded was actually small when one considered the advantage in numbers that the Greys had over us. But terror catches and spreads like measles. It matters not how many are left untouched when it is your head that is in danger of being pierced by a heavy iron spike. So many of the beasts ignored the threats and lashes of their supervisors and fell out of ranks, fleeing and seeking any type of shelter.

  Just as the second volley struck, the Grey King, now fully armored, was strutting through the ranks yelling, cursing, kicking and punching in an attempt to restore order. I watched him cut down two of his own fighters who had made the unfortunate decision to try fleeing past him. The slayings had an effect and some of the more panicked enemy raiders appeared to be getting themselves under control. The enemy lines were solidifying and getting straighter.

  I looked from the beast in the gold armor to the tent. Most of the attention of the Greys was focused toward the castle walls where our battle lines were still forming. The tent was now behind them. I thought about my options. I could scramble out of the concealing bush and try to duck-walk over to our lines or I could crawl over to the tent and see if I could get inside and check on Tinker before some sharp-eyed grey beast spotted me and brought fifty of his friends to see about cutting me up into a few dozen pieces.

  I opted to make for the tent. There was just no way that I could leave my little friend out there in enemy territory by herself. As I made my way on elbows and knees I steeled myself for what I might find. The Grey King had not seemed upset when he had exited the tent earlier, only hung over. But waking to find a strange critt
er in his living space might not be something that he would be concerned about. Maybe he’d seen her, stomped on her head then continued outside with nary another thought about it. If such happened to be the case I resolved that my last act in this life would be to fight my way through to the gold-plated jackass and plant my mace in his helmeted head.

  I crawled on hands and knees as quickly as possible to within several feet of the tent flaps. At that point I was on a slight rise of damp soil. As I fumbled my way forward I saw a Grey beast lying on the other side. He was obviously trying to keep himself hidden from his superiors and our iron bolt barrage. He saw me and his eyes widened to the size of silver dollars. He started to yell but I was able to reach out and grab his head in my hands pushing his face into the soil. I squeezed with all of my Earth-earned strength until he stopped squirming. Then I wiped my hands on his tunic and dashed the last few feet into the black leather tent.

  ***

  Vynn and Gallan circled our ranks on proud Olvioni mounts. All of the infantry were now safely out of the gates and across all four bridges. Their biggest concern had been getting them deployed before the Greys were able to form up into an effective counter-attack formation. They had succeeded. Vynn took a quick accounting of the numbers of enemy troops. It seemed to him that there were fewer enemy numbers than they had expected to meet. The administrative-types that Ruguer employed in the war room had been keeping a running count and had concluded that the Grey King was rapidly losing much of his army. If they had another two weeks or so this would have been an easier operation against a much-reduced force. But wishes were useless in war and they had not the time to sit back and let the attrition rate do their job for them. Still, the army that now sat before them was not as imposing as the one they’d feared they would meet. Hope grew.