The Stonegate Sword

by Harry James Fox

  Samuel’s messages and their own observers had kept them informed about what had happened during the first battle. The army had taken two days to get organized, then had launched a massive assault on Bethuel. They had not bothered with their cannons, but simply trusted in their overwhelming numbers. Four thousand had assaulted each of the two long walls, and two thousand each of the narrower north and south walls. The army had been faced with a steep hill everywhere except where the road gave access to the main gate. With their only cover being hundreds of archers, mostly crossbows, the waves of attackers with scaling ladders had simply advanced simultaneously with a great shout. But it was not to be that easy. The defender’s catapults had delivered thunderclaps and the larger fireballs, but the infantry had learned to hold their shields over their heads and had kept coming. Crossbow bolts and a hail of arrows from the defenders had thinned the advancing ranks but had not stopped them.

  Del Pembroke had too few men to adequately meet attacks on all four sides at once, just as the enemy general had supposed. The old men and boys in the town were pressed into service, but it was still not enough. The ballistae and catapults could not fire fast enough, either. But the attackers had not reckoned on one thing. That was the grenades, courtesy of the Ariel weapons masters. The pitifully few defenders were still adequate to light fuses and drop these miniature gunpowder bombs from the walls, right into the masses of soldiers trying to erect the scaling ladders. A few thunderclaps and fireballs were dropped in the same way. The carnage was horrific. The defenders were relatively safe from archers, and they certainly did not have to expose themselves to toss the grenades over the ramparts. And they could hardly miss.

  The enemy had not been prepared for this, and could not face the continuing rain of death. The retreat had been precipitous, and the fleeing soldiers continued to take losses until they had fled out of bowshot. Even then, the ballistae continued to pick off any enemy officer that showed himself inside four hundred yards. The first assault had been a failure—a failure that had cost the enemy perhaps two thousand casualties, of which nearly half were killed. A bitter loss for the proud General Logan. But the defenders had used a third of their grenades with no possibility of making more. The grenade workshop was in Ariel. The mathematics was still on the enemy’s side, should he be willing to keep on taking those losses.

  In fact, they had also attempted a night attack on Bethuel, but it had been hastily organized and had also had been driven off. Again, the defenders had not needed light. The bombs, even though dropped blindly off the walls, were just as effective. And the flashes of the explosions had a powerful psychological effect on the attackers.

  The battle that Don was observing was more complicated, and it was against Ariel. This time, there was no steep hill to climb before gaining the base of the walls. This time the enemy had rolled up their four remaining cannon and were shelling the north and south walls. They seemed to be trying to hit near the top of the walls at the thinnest part, to sweep away the defenders, and deny them the cover of the battlements. But this was proving a difficult thing to do. The balls either hit too low on the wall or went over the top and landed inside the town. Don winced when the latter happened, knowing that the city was taking losses. He wondered if some of the people were sheltering in those strange tunnels under the streets. A siege tower had been built, about a half-mile south of the city, and was being moved forward as Don watched.

  The earth-shaking boom of the cannons punctuated the afternoon every few minutes. Another assault force was forming up, with the first rank carrying greatly oversized shields. Perhaps these were to protect from the grenades. The enemy square formations made the battlefield look like a giant chessboard. When the formations advanced closer, the fireballs were launched. Their smoke trails looked like giant black commas in the sky, and their explosions sounded more like a crack! Each time, Don could see the wink of a small fireball, and then a cloud appeared, much blacker than from gunpowder alone.

  Suddenly, a large cloud of smoke shot into the air from behind the walls of Ariel. This sight was quickly followed by the sound of a huge explosion, much louder than anything that had been heard before. It sounded like the largest cannon in the world! The cloud grew larger, and through his binoculars, Don could see small objects arc high into the air and curve back toward earth.

  “What was that?” asked Don. He hoped that the explosion had not been from within Ariel. Still, it sounded as if the whole city powder supply had gone up in one massive glimpse of hell.

  “I think it must have been the buried explosives—on the hillside opposite the north wall,” answered Philip. “Samuel told you of it, did he not?”

  Don affirmed this. He looked at Eric, who stared with a blank look on his face. “Did you know about anything like this, Eric?” Don asked.

  “Nothing,” answered Eric. “But I don’t know why they told this youngster and not me.”

  A message started coming from Ariel. Don could see the flashes with his naked eye. The operator quickly decrypted the words.

  “It is from Samuel, Sir Don,” said the operator. “He says that one gun is gone, and our big gun appears to be a major threat.”

  “Hmm …” said the operator. “I did not know that we had a big gun. And where did the one gun go?”

  “I think it is no more,” said Don.

  †

  The Diné, by this time, had gained control over the huge area of steep valleys and forested mountains south of the Kolaroo. The Raiders were lightly armed and their ponies were fast, but they were no match for the Diné scouts. Don had been forced to admit that the Diné were probably the best horse archers he had ever seen. Their bows were longer than the short bows that the Raiders used and had greater range. No quarter was ever given to the Raiders, for Diné hatred ran deep.

  The heavy cavalry had tried to come in large patrols to chase the Diné down, but were simply led on fruitless chases until their heavily-laden mounts collapsed from exhaustion. Apparently the order was finally given to leave this area alone and concentrate on defending the supply wagons. But even that proved to be a huge task.

  An early pinprick by the Bows had been an ambush on a supply train only seven or eight miles upriver from Palisade. A train of thirty wagons had been showered with a rain of arrows from the cliffs above the road. Human losses from the arrows had been slight, but a number of horses were killed. Two grenadiers with the patrol had proved their worth by sling launching a dozen grenades into the train. One wagon had apparently had a few barrels of gunpowder that had exploded in a brilliant flash and a billow of gray smoke. This had destroyed three wagons and had caused numerous casualties. A patrol of heavy cavalry travelling with the wagons had tried to climb a steep trail, but a couple more grenades had driven them back as well with the loss of a few horses and riders. The Bows had then leisurely withdrawn into the hills. There had been no pursuit.

  The enemy had then made a critical error by sending empty wagons back downriver unescorted. A joint patrol of both the Lances and Javelins had boldly advanced across the valley, had overtaken one train, and had wiped it out completely. The only exception had been a wagon-load of wounded, which they had spared. They had not spared the wagons, but had captured forty-three draft horses, harness and all. Enemy losses had been about fifty. Two horse troopers had been killed by crossbow bolts. A good day’s work, though the loss of even one man was a loss too many.

  Robert had proved to have unmatched strategic vision. He had moved his greatly-outnumbered units with the hand of a chess-master. Inevitably, though, there had been some clashes between units of heavy cavalry and some narrow escapes. Don had learned to his sorrow, that when they met evenly matched units, his horse troopers were going to take losses. The javelin-lance teams of the Javelin Troop had proved to be very effective, and the enemy seemed to have no counter strategy. But even then, for every four enemy cavalryman kill
ed, one horse trooper had been lost. For every two enemy warhorses killed or wounded in direct combat, one friendly horse had suffered the same fate.

  †

  The explosion had caused some consternation in the enemy camp, as judged from the number of bugle blasts heard. The assault had stopped for a full hour, and Don could see the two visible enemy cannons being withdrawn. In fact, their crews had not stopped until the guns were at least a mile from Ariel’s walls. They were clearly out of the fight.

  Then Don observed the horses hitched behind the siege tower were straining, pushing forward. The angle was not good, but there appeared to be at least twelve. The tower wheels began to roll. It seemed to be covered with wet, un-tanned hides; there were overlapping shields around the top platform and an overhead cover. A sort of roof also protected the horses from objects falling from above. Ranks of soldiers behind the tower held shields over their heads, like men sheltering from the rain.

  When they got within what appeared to be about four hundred yards, the thunderclaps began exploding over the tower. But they seemed to have little effect. One actually hit the tower just as it exploded, but the damage was slight. Then the fireballs arched over, trailing smoke, and exploded. But though there must have been casualties, the tower moved on. At three hundred yards a different sound began. It was sharp cracks like fire from small cannon. There must have been five or six firing, assuming the guns were being reloaded within two or three minutes, because there was little time between shots, and sometimes the shots would come in rapid succession.

  “Samuel said Ariel had little cannons made of brass,” said Don to Philip. “Do you suppose they are making that noise?”

  “It must be,” answered Philip, excitedly. “I have a message ready that describes what we have seen. Shall we start sending?”

  “Yes. Fine,” answered Don. “Let them know what we can observe.” He was unable to tell where the balls were landing. But he could see muzzle flashes coming from the crenellations atop Ariel’s walls. The tower continued on, and so did the firing. When it reached perhaps two hundred fifty yards, the tower stopped and seemed to sway. Another volley of shots blasted forth. Then the forward left support beam seemed to buckle, and the tower began to slowly topple sidewise to earth. A cloud of dust billowed up, and they could hear a faint crash. The assault was over.

  That evening, back at the new headquarters, Don, Philip and Eric told Robert what they had seen. They also delivered a number of messages from Samuel. One was in a cipher that had not been given to the field operators. It was from Abel.

  Abel’s decrypted note said that the ruse with the buried explosives had been successful, and that the enemy cannon appeared to have been cracked—damaged beyond repair. It had been hurled fifty feet into the air. Whether it had been the Steamboat shell that had done the damage or not was hard to say. Unfortunately, the other position prepared near Bethuel had not been occupied by a gun, and so had not been ignited. The note concluded that a spy was probably operating within the headquarters, but he still had not been identified.

  Don was not to know it for days, but that night a figure shone a light from atop Ariel’s walls and dropped a message over the ramparts to a pair of waiting hands. The general was soon to be able to plan for a measure of revenge for the setbacks that day.

  †

  Two days later, all the four horse troops returned to get fresh horses, rearm, and re-equip. The crossbowmen were in camp, as were the grenadiers. Thirty scouts, all of Roberts’s direct command, were out on patrol, but that was all. Don and Philip spent the day questioning the troop and mount leaders and updating the battle maps. Several successful raids had been completed—a herd of cattle had been captured, and another dozen wagons destroyed. The enemy had not lost many men, but losses they had taken. The Diné had attacked several of the wayside camps and had managed to burn a great quantity of hay, by using fire arrows. It was late before Don had time to himself.

  They had plenty of apples—a bit wrinkled, but still sound. Don took a couple out to the stable and fed them to Snap and Red. They seemed glad to see him, but gladder still to get the apples. Don decided to ride out with one of the patrols in the morning, and he would ride Red. Snap was beginning to look drawn and needed another day’s rest.

  A scout patrol came riding excitedly into the headquarters right at dawn. The scouts reported that a force of enemy infantry was coming, as if they knew exactly where to go. Somehow the enemy must have found out where they were and had made a night march.

  “They’s got to be a thousand o’them,” said a young scout. “I mean, sir! They can’t be more than two hours out!”

  “Any horse?” asked Robert.

  “Yessir! A half-dozen mounted officers and a dozen Raiders riding screen.”

  The headquarters exploded into action. The ballista and catapult crews ran to their weapons, but they brought containers of lamp alcohol and cooking grease so that they could burn their weapons, if necessary. Fred started putting the evacuation plan into action, and soon teamsters started out the back gate, driving heavily-laden wagons.

  Robert began briefing the pitifully small guard force. Don saddled Red and saw Snap being driven out the back gate with the rest of the remounts. He gave orders to the horse troops to arm themselves with war-spears, except for those armed with javelins. There were now thirty scouts in camp from the scout force, each horse troop had ten more scouts, and even the mounted crossbow men had five scouts with each of their two groups. All of the scouts took up war spears as well as messengers, buglers and standard bearers. The horse troops were all under strength due to battle losses, but by arming every available man he could field over three hundred spears. Then there were the grenadiers and crossbowmen, besides. It was not hopeless unless the infantry had long pikes!

  “Shall we leave the crossbowmen to man the walls?” asked Don.

  “No,” said Robert.”If they get within bowshot of these walls—the game is up. I told the levy that if they get within a hundred yards of the walls to throw a grenade and run. The crews at the catapult and ballista have the same orders, but first they are to light the fire under their engines. We will leave each of them one of the captured ponies so they can get away.”

  “What is the plan?”

  “We split the force and take them on the flanks. Not sure where. You take half the crossbowmen and half the grenadiers. You take the Bows and the Javelins. I will take the Lances and the Blades. We must use all the shock power that we have. If, God forbid, they have pikes, then concentrate all the missiles you have on one narrow section of their flank, then try to break through with lances.”

  Don nodded. “Where do we hit them?”

  “Wait for my signal—three blasts on the horn. Or if you hear a grenade on my flank, then move in.”

  They split the forces and headed down the road in the direction of the enemy. Robert’s forces kept to the ridgetop north of the road while Don took the ridge to the south. The southern ridge was heavily forested. There was a good trail, but there were few places that gave a clear view of the road and valley below.

  The Raiders saw them first. A scout came galloping back and reported seeing a half-dozen Raiders on the trail ahead. They had all turned tail and galloped back the way they had come.

  “The enemy will soon know we’re here!” exclaimed Eric.

  They pressed forward along the ridge top, but had lost track of Robert and his troopers. Finally, they came out onto a point of the ridge. They could look north along the road and could see the infantry, heading south in column toward them, ten abreast. It clearly was a full thousand. To Don’s left, he could see the red pennant of the Blades. Obviously, the enemy had seen them too. Don raised his binoculars and could see the retreating Raiders dashing up to one of the mounted officers. They were about a thousand yards away.

  A bugle blew, and the in
fantry began to form up in a column about twenty-five wide with forty rows of marching troops. It was apparently their favored formation for meeting horse. The first two rows were carrying ten-foot pikes and square shields, perhaps three feet by two feet. The leftmost and rightmost soldier in each row carried a pike as well, and the rear row carried pikes. The flank pikemen also carried large shields, acting as guards on every side of the formation. Those soldiers who were not marching in front, rear, or on the flanks seemed to have short stabbing spears and round infantry shields. Every man carried a short sword, a metal helmet and wore leather armor. They seemed to have only a few crossbows. The six mounted officers bore mail, broadswords and small round shields. A small red plume of something like dyed horsehair stood up proudly from the top of the officer’s helms. Some junior officers must be marching with the troops because red plumes also showed up on men moving next to the ranks with drawn swords. Colorful banners flowed in the breeze.

  The enemy marched to an open field to the west of the road, in front of Roberts’ line of march, and then stopped. They dressed their ranks and the pikemen grounded their pikes, points up. The long spears looked like a square forest on all sides of the formation, which was a long rectangle about one hundred feet wide and perhaps two hundred fifty feet long. Clearly, they wanted to do battle right there.

  Don led his force down the hill and began riding in columns of fours toward the enemy’s left flank. He could see Robert leading his unit down to approach the other flank. As they approached the waiting soldiers, the pikemen faced outwards and lowered their pikes to a thirty-degree angle. Don could see a major problem with the formation. It was not designed for a unit operating independently. The double rows of pikes were on the narrow front and rear of the formation, where they would be essentially useless in case of a flank attack. They did not seem to be attempting to move the pikemen to strengthen the flanks, either.