The False Prophet (Stonegate Book 2)

by Harry James Fox

  “Proudly,” said Ramos. He turned and gave Don a cheery smile.

  The meeting lasted the rest of the day. The one thousand heavy lancers from Sonora, to say nothing of the five hundred Diné scouts, gave them a force comparable to the enemy. The question they faced was how to use them. The hoarded ammunition from Owl Hollow was also an issue. Finally, they agreed that eighty Stonegate scouts would be armed as troopers and used as replacements for losses in the horse troops.

  The new mission for Donald’s command was to neutralize the enemy cavalry and to attack the supply lines. They would not be responsible for delaying the masses of enemy infantry which surely would be moving on Stonegate.

  “This is all well and good,” said Mayor Sheridan of Hightower. “But the issue will be decided here, at these walls. Cavalry is a side-show.”

  “We can’t stop the infantry from advancing,” agreed Don. “These walls and your brave soldiers will have to do that. Nevertheless, we can keep them from spreading out and terrorizing the countryside.”

  “But first we have to destroy their cavalry,” said Samuel, speaking for the first time. “Then their supply lines will be vulnerable.”

  “What about the sickness in the camp?” asked Marshall Allen.

  “I think Abel of the House of Healing can speak to that,” said Don.

  “We have had reports of filthy conditions in the Prophet’s camp, and we know that large numbers are ill,” said Abel. “But don’t assume that they won’t be able to mount an attack.”

  The faces around the table seemed downcast. Abel continued. “We will be faced with the same thing unless we do a better job of sanitation within Stonegate.”

  “Pray to God this siege does not last long,” said Marshall Allen.

  †

  Don walked over to the new guns. The one in the middle was, indeed, much bigger. “Tell me about them,” he said.

  Charles answered, “Lord Don, we cast it last winter and bored it to three inches. I call it a ‘three-pounder.’ It will shoot, with accuracy, a mile and a half.”

  “So an inch bigger and three times the weight,” Don said, examining it closely. The brass was shiny, and the barrel had decorative leaves cast in relief. It looked beautiful and deadly.

  “We have one more thing to show you,” said Charles. He reached into the ammunition box and drew out an iron ball and a strange object. It was a cylinder with a rounded nose. He handed the ball to Don, then gave him the other one, also. Even though the cylinder was larger, it was decidedly lighter. The flat end of the iron object had a wooden plug.

  “What is it?” asked Don, returning both to Charles. “I know what the ball is.”

  “We have been working on this for a long time,” said Charles, “And we finally got it to work. It has a cast-iron case, packed with gunpowder. We can attach a fuse, which the gunner can cut to length. When the gun is fired, the charge ignites the fuse. When the fuse burns through, the shell explodes. It scatters bits of steel for twenty yards in all direction.”

  “This could be very useful,” said Don.

  †

  Early in the morning, the enemy army began marching south. They moved in blocks of one thousand, and every other man had a twelve-foot pike. Hundreds of crossbowmen marched with each of the ten great guns. Their heavy cavalry came first, forming the vanguard, just behind a screen of Raiders. To watching eyes, the display of organization was impressive.

  Within an hour, Stonegate knew the enemy was advancing, since the scouts immediately sent a messenger pigeon south. A rider carried the same message to Don, but horses travel slower than pigeons.

  Don went over the council’s plan with the troop leaders. He put Blackie in command of the Haven forces, Danny had his six hundred scouts, and Ramos led the Sonora Lancers. Thomas of Longmont replaced Lord Cal in charge of the Stonegate troops. This comprised a formidable force of over fifteen hundred heavy cavalry and nearly eight hundred lightly armed scouts. They were now a numerical match with the enemy.

  “Remember,” said Don. “We will wait until one of their guns is in position, but the real object is to get rid of their cavalry. The attack on the gun is just to draw them out. Still, it must be a real threat—a demonstration will not do.”

  “But, surely, we want to take out their guns,” said Thomas.

  “Yes, and this will be our best chance to do that,” said Don. “But one or two guns, more or less, won’t win this war.”

  †

  The Diné departed the camp first with two objectives. One group would provide a long-range screen to the north and west. The main force was to engage the Raiders screening the advancing army. Their goal was to force the heavy cavalry to advance farther to the south, weakening the flank guard, clearing the way for the attack on the guns.

  Don was preparing to mount when he noticed that Colin was carrying Philip’s rifle. He turned and said, “You don’t have your weapon, Philip.”

  “I gave it to Colin,” said Philip, his eyes looking down. “He knows how to use it.”

  “Very well,” said Don. He has killed enough. He is still a boy, after all. “You can carry messages for me, today.”

  They left the Sonora Lancers concealed behind a row of hills and moved forward. They kept watching the western mountains. They had scouts there with signal mirrors who could watch the advancing army. Don’s force included the guns, the missile force, and all the Stonegate and Haven horse troops.

  They made contact after about three miles. Their leading scouts and the Raider screen began exchanging arrows when they saw mirror flashed from the bluish-green hills ahead. At Don’s hand signal, the bugler sounded Advance. Other buglers picked up the call, and they all began moving forward at the trot, hooves tearing the grassy sod.

  They easily drove the Raiders before them and occupied a knoll overlooking the main road. Before them was the sight of the army on the march. There were blocks of men in columns of ten, flying banners, mounted officers, and a long gun pulled by six horses. The Haven gun battery wheeled into position atop the knoll, and gunners began working, preparing to fire. Don ordered the troopers to clear a lane, and he rode to join Jenkins.

  “Take that cannon under fire,” he ordered.

  Jenkins barked out commands as the guns were laid on target. Even the one-pounders were within range, and all fired as one. The concussion flattened their cheeks and squeezed their chests as thunder rang in their ears.

  The effect was like stirring an ant-hill. Enemy infantry began swarming up the slope, pikes bristling. “Hold them back,” shouted Jenkins to the crossbowmen and grenadiers.

  Don looked at the enemy cannon through his binoculars as soon as Snap stopped dancing sideways. One of the horses was down in the traces, and a wheel on the gun carriage looked damaged. Then the cannons fired again. Billows of smoke hid the scene for a long moment.

  Don raised his binoculars again. Now the carriage was splintered, but the steel tube of the cannon looked unhurt. Then the guns began firing individually, as soon as the gunners reloaded. Don knew that the three-pounder kept the enemy gun as its main target. A clang clearly came back an instant after a shot, and Rob shouted “Yes!”

  Don could see nothing amiss with the enemy gun except for a small, shiny place on the barrel. “What happened?” he asked. He had to shout between the reports of the guns.

  “We hit it,” Jenkins shouted. “That gun will never fire again.” Rob echoed the cry.

  Don did not know how Jenkins and Rob were so sure, nevertheless it was time to withdraw. He raised his war-horn and blew a signal. The bugler looked at him, and Don signaled the retreat. Bugles began to sound.

  The guns had to proceed to the rear along a road on the crest of the ridge to the east. As soon as they were moving, the horse troops began to fall back with the Blade troop leading.


  Then a scout came riding toward them at a full gallop. His mount slid to a stop, and he tossed Don a salute. His dusty face was grim. “Enemy cavalry advancing!” he said and pointed to the south-east. Don immediately realized that the enemy commander was trying to pin the Haven guns between the army and his advancing force.

  They all had assumed that the enemy would return up the highway and try to drive the guns away from the army. That would have given them plenty of time to withdraw. However, no plan survives long in contact with the enemy. They were running out of time. Their horse troops were divided and in danger of meeting the full weight of the enemy with half their numbers.

  Blackie and Thomas of Longmont rode toward Don’s banner, and they continued to the east. The guns were slowing them greatly. They stopped for a moment and held a quick conference.

  “Did you get the message that the enemy are trying to cut us off?” asked Don as soon as the others came within earshot.

  “Yes,” they replied in unison.

  “Lord Don,” said Blackie. “Is our main goal to defend the guns?”

  “Let the missile troops do that,” answered Don.

  “What are your orders?” asked Thomas, looking anxiously to the south. Don glanced that way, also, and the flashes of steel and forms of mounted men showed above the ridgeline. Their clever plan had fallen apart.

  “Philip,” said Don. Then he looked at Colin. “You, too. Come close.”

  Philip spurred Victory close to Snap’s flank and Colin closed in on the other side. Don issued his order, “Ride to Reuben Ramos. Order him to advance immediately. We will try to catch the enemy between us. We might be able to end this right here.”

  They nodded and prepared to leave. Don pulled a scrap of parchment from his pen-case and scribbled a note with a pencil stub. “Give him this note,” said Don. Then he looked at Colin. “You have to get through. Use that rifle if you need to. Use all your ammunition if you must. We need the Sonora Lancers, or the battle may be lost.”

  †

  Time often dulls memory. Moments of emotional stress are retained while days of routine living become a blur. Don remained on the highest ridge-top with the guns and his command banner and had an excellent view of the battle. It was a half-hour that would be engraved on his mind forever.

  Smelling victory, the full force of enemy cavalry charged north, blocking the Stonegate and Haven advance. They then wheeled and advanced to the west, attempting to capture the guns or force them to retreat back toward the mighty army to their rear. It was a good plan, and the outnumbered defenders were slowly driven back.

  Then, over the ridge to the east, at the enemy’s rear, came a welcome sight, as welcome as a loaf of fresh bread to a starving man. The glittering wave of the Sonora Lancers poured over the crest and slammed into the enemy rear with the ringing of metal on metal. Hundreds of the Prophet’s heavy cavalry were unhorsed at the first impact. It was a crushing blow, but the melee went on and became a whirlwind of struggling horses and riders as edged weapons met shields, helms, and living flesh.

  A glance to his right brought two riders on sweaty mounts into his view. It was Philip and Colin. “Well done,” he shouted. Their flushed faces responded with grins. The response of Ramos and his men could not have been better timed if they had planned it in advance. Nevertheless, there were still knots of stubborn resistance.

  “Move up, Colin,” ordered Don. “Use that rifle and take out their leaders or their best fighters. We have to end this.” Colin saluted and turned to leave. “Don’t hit our own men.”

  The enemy commanders soon realized that they were beaten and began asking for quarter. At that, the Prophet’s men began to throw down their arms and raise their hands. The battle was over.

  Blackie escorted the enemy commander up the slope, and Don accepted his sword in surrender. He had obviously been in the thick of battle. His face was spotted with mud and drops of blood, and his helm and breastplate were dented in several places.

  “You have won the day, sir,” said the defeated man. “My name is Colonel Bower, and my sword is yours. Do you wish my belt-knife?”

  “You may keep it and your armor, as well,” answered Don. “You and your men will be well-treated.”

  “Are you the lore-man?” he asked. “You are a hard one to kill. We had many reports of your…”

  Don nodded. “Demise? I am he. Don’t believe all you hear.”

  “I thought we had you, at last. But those other lancers that hit our rear. We had no word of them. Once again, our scouts failed us.”

  “Fortunes of war,” commented Blackie. Don returned Bower’s salute, as he was escorted away.

  Thomas of Longmont rode up with a small group. He slapped Don on the shoulder with a wide grin. “We did it!” he said. “I almost can’t believe it.”

  Don returned the smile, then was bombarded by a growing throng of armored men, shouting congratulations. He let the victory celebration continue until the first rush of enthusiasm began to fade.

  Thomas spoke again, “Now, what are your orders, Lord Donald?”

  Chapter 31

  †

  The Aftermath

  May the Lord, my rock, be praised, who trains my hands for battle and my fingers for warfare. He is my faithful love and my fortress, my stronghold and my deliverer. He is my shield, and I take refuge in Him.

  Psalm 144:1-2a HCSB

  They had won a crushing victory, yet Don was faced with so many practical problems that it almost seemed like a defeat. The enemy army had kept advancing toward Stonegate but a detachment moved to the west, so they were hard pressed to recover the arms and armor from the battlefield before the thousands of pike-bearing infantry arrived. Cavalry has little capability to hold territory, so they were forced to retreat and allow the enemy to occupy the blood-drenched ground.

  Some saddles and horse armor had to be left behind with the bodies and some enemy with serious wounds. Don comforted himself with the thought that at least he would not have to deal with their burial. But they took their own honored dead with them. He knew that he owed the grieving families of the fallen the right to pay proper respects, and he insisted that the bodies be returned to Stonegate. They were able to do so, just before the advancing army was able to surround the city walls.

  †

  Don was sitting on a folding stool in his command tent when they dragged Bobby before him. His hands were tied behind his back, and he had been stripped of armor and weapons. His face was marred with bruises and dirt. His lips were puffed like sausages and one eye was half-closed. Even so, he still managed to sneer.

  “You won today, Lore-man,” he said. His familiar voice seemed strange coming from a captured enemy. They had fought together and shared camps over many miles. Bobby had even helped Don rescue Rachel. What am I going to do with him?

  “Our army will crush Stonegate like a beetle,” said Bobby when Don failed to answer.

  Don was still at a loss for words. Colin was standing nearby, and Philip sat at Don’s elbow before lists of needed supplies. Two burly Blade troopers gripped Bobby by the elbows, none too gently.

  Slim stepped forward and spoke. “I noticed him among the prisoners. He had rubbed blood and dirt on his face—to try to hide in plain sight. Shall we put him to the sword?” A murmur of agreement filled the inside of the tent.

  Bobby spoke again, this time with less bluster. “Think twice. You might need me yet. Dead, I am no use to you. Alive, I will be able to put a good word for you. You might need someone to argue for mercy after the Prophet wins. And win, he will.”

  “We need no help from you,” said Don. “You are a coward and a spy. You deserve no mercy.”

  “But, sir, to kill him in cold blood—” blurted Philip.

  “Quiet, boy,” said Slim. “We will take care of it.”<
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  “No,” said Don, holding up a hand. “He deserves to die, but I want him brought to trial in Stonegate. Let him face those he has wronged.”

  †

  There was tension around the rude desk. Reuben spoke, “I would like the honor of moving to attack the supply lines to the west.”

  “But your men and horses have had a hard ride for hundreds of miles. Then you fought a major battle,” said Don.

  Thomas of Longmont seemed thoughtful. He toyed with a dagger that they had been using for a pointer. A map lay unrolled before them. “We need to do several things, all vital,” he said. “First someone must do what Señor Ramos has suggested. That is the key to victory.” He paused and pointed to the mark for Stonegate. “We must also keep the enemy army confined. If they are allowed to spread out, they will ravage the countryside like a plague of vermin.”

  Danny Yazzi spoke for the first time, after a long silence. “I think there might be more enemy horse. I have enough to screen and keep them out.” His finger drew a circle around the Stonegate area on the map.

  Slim said, “The truth is, Lord Don, all of our men and horses are battered and worn out. But Señor Ramos has his own supply train, and it will be joining us soon, maybe today.”

  “How long can you stay in the field?” asked Don, looking at Ramos.

  “Indefinitely,” Ramos replied. “Give me the guns, and we will be able to capture all the supplies that we will ever need. Staying in the field will not be a problem.”

  “Very well,” said Don. “Here is how we will proceed. The Sonoran heavy lancers will attack the supply lines in the west. I will attach half of the guns to this force.”

  Don’s gaze shifted to Blackie and Thomas of Longmont. “Stonegate and Haven troops will harass the supply lines from the great enemy camp to Stonegate. They will keep three guns and most of the missile troops. But your main effort should be to attack any scattered enemy that try to go foraging for food.” He paused and pointed to the map. “If they try to move troops south toward Loveland, make it hot for them. Blackie, you will report to Lord Thomas. Understood?”