Kelven's Riddle Book Five

by Daniel Hylton

  Aram looked back toward Morkendril.

  There was no doubt now. The broad, dark line of Manon’s might was moving slowly away from the city and coming toward them, though the enemy seemed to be in no great hurry. In fact, the forward movement of Manon’s army appeared almost deliberately sluggish. At the rate they were coming, and with three miles or more of ground to cross, Aram estimated that those many thousands would not be at the base of the slope for at least two hours.

  An hour later, with the dark line of the enemy only halfway to the base of the slope, Elam was not yet through. Behind them, and yet to come, there were the men from Lamont, who would, with Boman and Duridia, form the center of his line. Last of all, there was Matibar and Seneca – his weapons of distance, whose skills he would need in the first moments of the coming battle.

  Timmon and the gun would come behind them.

  And Nikolus and his cavalry – who, Kipwing assured him, were on the move toward the front – were still not present.

  The sun climbed inexorably up the hazy morning sky as his troops continued to pour four abreast through the cut. Down on the plain, dark power approached. And it seemed to Aram’s eye that the enemy forces had accelerated their movement.

  Anxiety began to foment within him. He looked to his right and spied Thom Sota, marching with the rearward ranks of Kraine’s troops.

  “Is Lamont behind you, Thom?” He called.

  Sota nodded. “Entering the gap now, my lord.”

  Aram looked back to his front.

  The thick, dark line of lashers and gray men had crossed more than half the distance from the tower to the base of the slope. They were yet too far away for him to see individual soldiers, but near enough that he could make out the taller, larger forms of the lashers in the rear ranks of the approaching enemy.

  Just then, with a thunder of hooves, Nikolus and the cavalry, accompanied by Wamlak and his mounted archers, came over the crest of the rim behind Aram. Braska slid to a halt and Wamlak grinned over at Aram. “I hope we’re not too late,” he said. “I’d hate to miss the fun.”

  Aram smiled slightly and then looked at Nikolus and pointed down the slope, to the open ground in front of Boman’s Duridians.

  “Get in front of Boman and examine the ground the enemy must climb,” he told him. “Send Ruben to the east in front of General Kraine. Wamlak – you go to the west to Kavnaugh’s front. Bring me reports of any advantages the enemy may find and use to assault our position. Also, your presence in front of the army will give the enemy something to consider, perhaps slow him, while Edwar comes up.”

  Nikolus nodded and took his troops to the right, followed by Wamlak, around the end of Boman’s line and out onto the slope. The horsemen split into three groups and diverged across the face of the slope.

  The men of Lamont were spilling from the cut and filling the gap between Duridia and Kraine’s Elamites when Findaen, Marcus, and Andar pounded through the cut on their mounts and galloped over to Aram and Thaniel. Hilgarn rode behind them, bearing the standard that Ka’en had made for him.

  For once, the features of the young “Eldest” of Seneca were utterly devoid of mirth as he saluted Aram. “Matibar and Seneca will be here in less than an hour, my lord,” he said.

  Aram nodded. “Thank you, Your Worthiness. Tell Matibar to deploy his archers in three groups as we planned – one to the west behind Kavnaugh, and one here, just to the right of the center behind Edwar. The other contingent must deploy over to the right to Olyeg’s rear; and at least a hundred must move further to the right to cover Mallet’s position. His position is somewhat forward of the line and is badly exposed.”

  Andar glanced to his right, toward the east, and then nodded his head and went back through the cut to find his captain.

  Findaen gained Aram’s attention. “Where do you want me, my lord – with Mallet?”

  Aram shook his head. “No, Fin; you must stay with me. Our line is more than two miles wide. Andaran is very fast. I will need you to help me maintain contact with all commanders.”

  Findaen scowled. “Are you trying to keep me out of the fight, my lord?”

  “I am not trying to protect your life, Fin,” Aram told him bluntly. “My need is real. Besides, when things grow confused – as they will – you will find plenty to keep you occupied, as will I.”

  “And as for me, my lord –?” Marcus inquired.

  “Elam will need to see you after we make contact with the enemy, Your Highness, that they may know that you are with them.” He moved his hand left and then right. “Your countrymen are split upon this field. Kavnaugh is to the left and Kraine is to the right.” He looked out and gauged the progress of the enemy for a moment, and then he looked back at Marcus.

  “I would have you speak with them now, both left and right, for they are in position, and the enemy comes.”

  “And when the battle begins, my lord?” Marcus asked. His features clouded. “Would you have me be no more than a provider of encouragement?”

  Aram turned in the saddle and looked at him. “You cede too much authority to me, Your Highness,” he told the young prince, and his eyes were hard. “There are more of your people upon this field than those of any other principality. They are your people, and they will need encouragement and much more once the enemy makes contact. Go where you will this day, young man. Do whatever – in your judgment – your people require. You need not consult me. Understood?”

  Nodding somberly, Marcus spoke to Phagan and they moved away to the west.

  Findaen watched him go. “Forgive me, my lord, but your words and your tone were harsh, were they not?”

  “War is harsh,” Aram replied. “Today will be a harsh day. Our friend Marcus is young and inexperienced and he governs a land that is broad and rich, prone to all the ills of humankind. To rule such a land requires a firm hand.” He leaned forward and peered down the slope for a time before continuing.

  “War,” he said, “will ever be a hard and deadly business. Prince Marcus needs to make his own decisions and learn to trust in his own judgment. After today, our good, young friend will no longer be so young or so inexperienced. If we win this battle, and he survives, the events here today will help to provide a good amount of that much-needed firmness of hand.”

  A small wry smile moved across Findaen’s face as he looked over at Aram. “I was wrong. You are a fine king, my friend.”

  Aram made no reply as he looked over to his right toward the road. “Look,” he said. “Edwar is nearly through and in position.”

  Findaen nodded. “Matibar will not be far behind.”

  After that, the two men more closely bound to each other by blood and friendship than perhaps any others upon the field sat in silence and watched the thick, dark line of Manon’s army approach. Aram attempted to judge the strength of those that came toward him across the floor of the valley.

  There were at least eighty thousand, perhaps as many as a hundred thousand. As soon as Seneca arrived, he would field more than ninety thousand troops of his own. Of course, the presence of lashers in the enemy host created more than a little inequality, but he hoped to remedy some of that with the missiles of the Senecans. Those tremendous archers from the east with their arrows tipped with malsite should be able, he hoped, to greatly reduce the numbers of Manon’s beasts – through injury and even death – that would reach his lines.

  That thought made him impatient and he looked over at Findaen. “See where Matibar is, will you, Fin? Tell him that I need him as soon as he may arrive. Timmon and his gun are behind them. Tell him it is time to exchange oxen for horses and deploy upon the road once Seneca is through.”

  Findaen nodded, spoke to Andaran and the two of them went back through the cut toward the rear.

  Just then, Nikolus, Ruben, and Wamlak returned from their reconnaissance in front of the army.

  “Where are your troops?” Aram asked.

  Nikolus pointed. “We left them out in front, in position with
lances at the ready, until you wish them to be placed elsewhere, my lord.”

  Aram nodded. “What is your assessment of the ground?”

  “It is not as level as it might appear, my lord,” Nikolus said. “Nor is it as gently sloped as it seems. There are ravines all along the slope which become more pronounced as they near the valley floor. I believe the enemy will find it difficult to maintain order as he tries to negotiate them.”

  “Good,” Aram replied. “I wish him the most difficult of days. And dis-advantages to us?” He asked.

  At this, Wamlak pointed to the left, toward the place where Donnick was in command of the mixed forces of Elam and Duridia. “There is one very serious, in my judgment at least.”

  “What is it – and where is it?” Aram glanced at the army of Manon, now approaching to within a half-mile or less of the base of the slope. “Tell me quickly.”

  Wamlak once again indicated the left of the long line, where Kavnaugh’s forces were deployed. “In front of Elam, there is a sort of shelf that extends in front of our lines.”

  “Shelf?”

  Nikolus moved his hand across in front of his body. “A level place – if it slopes away at all, the angle is not severe. If the enemy can reach that flat ground in force, they will be fighting us on equal terms.”

  Aram looked left. “It is to Kavnaugh’s front, before Elam?”

  “Yes, my lord, but also in front of Duridia’s extreme left, right where those two forces come together. The widest, most dangerous part is directly in front of Donnick.”

  Aram stared long and hard, and then looked over at Ruben. “You will be on our left this day?”

  “Yes, my lord, behind Kavnaugh.”

  “Warn Donnick, even though I am certain the general has already seen the danger. Then instruct Kavnaugh that he is to send as many of his reserves as he can spare over to his extreme right. Tell him this instruction comes directly from me.”

  “I will place my troop in reserve behind Donnick as well, my lord,” Ruben stated. “Unless you need me to be elsewhere?”

  Aram nodded. “Do so, captain – if the enemy breaks through, we will need the shocking power that your horses can provide to drive them back and heal the breach. And make Kavnaugh aware of the danger to Donnick’s front so that he will not hesitate to send his reserves that way.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  As Ruben rode away, Aram asked, “What about our right?”

  Nikolus shook his head. “Nothing very troubling, other than a few gentle slopes where the enemy will find better footing than at other points and may try to concentrate his forces. There is Mallet’s hill, of course. And that is a very weak position – as you know, my lord. I do not know how he will hold if the enemy storms it in sufficient numbers, and it will be nearly impossible for the cavalry to maneuver there and lend him aid.”

  Aram grimaced in agreement. “Yes. But the wolves will be there, and I will help him hold – if I am not badly needed elsewhere. Also, Matibar will place a contingent of his archers on the ridge behind.”

  Wamlak laughed and smiled grimly. “Those archers will do some damage for sure. I wish we had ten thousand of them.”

  “As do I,” Aram agreed. “Still, we have three thousand, and that may suffice.” He glanced once more toward the plain below and then looked toward the gap where Lamont was still coming through. “I should have asked Seneca to march nearer the front.”

  Nikolus looked down at the valley and then met Aram’s eyes. “I will go see if they are getting close, if you wish, my lord.”

  Aram hesitated but then shook his head. “No. I sent Findaen to hurry them. Go back to your troops and bring them through. I don’t wish the cavalry to be exposed for any longer than necessary.”

  “Seneca cannot be far away, my lord. If needed, the cavalry will do what we can to delay the approach of the enemy.”

  Aram shook his head. “As you say, Seneca should be here in time. We will need you here when the battle commences. There is no reason to weaken your forces with unnecessary casualties. I want your troop strong and sound so that you may drive back any breakthrough of the enemy.”

  “I understand.” With that, Nikolus and Jared wheeled and went back through the lines to collect their men.

  Wamlak started to follow but then halted and looked back. “What of my archers when the battle begins?” He asked Aram. “Do we stay with Nikolus and Jared?”

  Aram shook his head. “No. Nikolus and Jared will deploy to the right of the road, Ruben and Varen to the left. I want you in the middle, here on the heights, where you can see most of the field.” He looked hard at him. “I trust your judgment, captain – go where you are needed, wherever your missiles will benefit our front.”

  Wamlak inclined his head. “Thank you, my lord.” And he and Braska went back out front to gather his mounted archers.

  Aram stood up in the stirrups and gazed to the east and then back to the west along the front. Then he sat back and watched the oncoming enemy. There was nothing else to be done. The army was situated to his satisfaction, pending the arrival of Seneca upon the field.

  The long dark line of Manon’s power was now approaching the base of the slope, coming close enough that his eye could resolve the individual forms of lashers and gray men. The enemy was not yet near enough, however, that he could judge the disposition and strength of the various components of the army that would soon climb the slope to his front and crash into his own.

  Once more, his attention was drawn to his right as Findaen returned with Edwar and Matibar.

  Edwar turned in the saddle and indicated the last of his troops just now exiting the cut. Then he looked at Aram. “Lamont is here, my lord.”

  Aram nodded. “Anchor your left flank across the road and next to Boman, captain. I will stay here behind your left. Wamlak’s archers will remain here as well.”

  As Edwar wheeled to rejoin his men, Aram looked at Matibar. The taciturn captain inclined his head.

  “Seneca is here as well, my lord, to stand with you against the Scourge. Shall we deploy as you stated earlier?”

  “Yes.” Aram pointed toward the enemy. “How close do they need to come for you to cause them damage?”

  Matibar studied the approaching host and then examined the ground between them and the line of allied troops. He looked back at Aram. “Let them traverse half the distance of that slope and we can begin to kill them.”

  Aram frowned. “Are you confident of your accuracy at that distance, captain?”

  Matibar looked back down the incline for a long moment, searching left and right across the slope. Then, he nodded firmly. “We will begin to slay them when they cross half that distance and come to within three hundred yards of our lines.”

  “How many arrows per each of your archers, captain?”

  “Each man carries ten in his primary quiver, and ten more in a secondary quiver,” Matibar replied. “And there are approximately another hundred thousand in the supply wagons – about thirty more per archer. The wagons will be placed as near to the front as possible, with mounted riders to keep the men in the lines supplied.”

  “How near are those wagons?”

  Matibar turned and looked at the road where his men were following Lamont through the cut. “Immediately behind the men, my lord, in front of the food wagons.”

  “Alright.” Aram pointed up the slope behind him toward the top of the ridge, twenty yards or so away. “Deploy your men along the top as we agreed, captain. Place one-third behind our left and one-third behind our right, with the remainder here in the middle, upon ground where they have a good view of the foe and may do the most damage.”

  He held up his hand. “Instruct your men to ignore the gray men among the enemy host, and focus upon the lashers.” He looked hard at the approaching enemy lines once again. “I believe that those beasts are deployed entirely in the rear of the enemy host. We will know as they come closer. I want as few of their number as possible to reach our l
ines. Also; send a contingent to the right to cover Mallet upon that hill at the east end of our lines. His position must not be overrun.”

  Aram stared down the slope for a long moment and then looked once more at Matibar, meeting the Senecan’s dark brown eyes. He had always respected the captain; lately that respect had become something more – a genuine appreciation for the taciturn captain and his many fine qualities. “We will need every one of your arrows this day, captain,” he said, “but save a few until the enemy closes upon us – so that you can aid those places in the line that may weaken in the face of the foe.”

  “And when our arrows are gone?”

  “Then we will need your swords.”

  Matibar looked away and gazed at the dark tower. As he did so, his mouth tightened into a hard line. After a long moment, he looked back at Aram. “Seneca is here, Lord Aram, in whatever capacity is required. We will expend our arrows and then employ our swords and expend our blood – whatever is needed to bring the end of the Scourge upon him. Vengeance is owed my people for a terrible and ancient wrong. Today, we will exact it.”

  He inclined his head respectfully. “I will bring my men into position quickly, my lord.” Speaking to Yvan, he turned away.

  “Where is Andar?” Aram called after him.

  Matibar halted and looked back. “He is on foot, in the line, among the men. I could not dissuade him.”

  Aram met the captain’s gaze for a long moment and then nodded shortly. “Tell His Worthiness that I wish him to be alive at the end of it.”

  “I will tell him.”

  An hour later, Aram’s army was fully deployed, including Timmon and the cannon which were in place upon the road behind Edwar’s left.