by Peter Last
“Very well,” Timothy said. “A hospital is being organized in the barracks, so if you head over there, someone can probably fix you up the old fashioned way. Good luck.”
“Don’t slow yourself down too much thinking about me,” Vladimir called and began the painful trek to the barracks.
“Slow down thinking about you?” Timothy said over his shoulder. “What makes you think that I care that much?”
Vladimir smiled at the lame attempt at humor and hobbled toward the barracks with the aid of a broken pole that had once held a standard. Every time he took a step, pain shot through his body attesting to the many aches and pains he had received in the battle. Absentmindedly wishing that magic could cure everything, he rounded a corner, and the barracks were finally in sight. Someone had taken a cloth and nailed a large red cross over the door of the middle building. As Vladimir neared the building, he made out the form of a soldier that had fallen only a few yards from the entrance. He hobbled over to the man and painfully knelt down next to him. As he searched for a wound, he felt for a pulse on the man’s neck. He could find no pulse and rolled the man onto his stomach, looking for the cause of death. The sight that met his eyes made him vomit; the blade of a dwarfish ax had carved an ugly gash from the right shoulder of the soldier down to his left hip. In the middle of the wound, Vladimir could see the man’s spinal cord had been smashed. There were hundreds of shards of bone attesting to its previous existence. Vladimir vomited again and leaned against the wall of the barracks, turning his eyes away from this gruesome sight of death. He slowly pulled himself to his feet and staggered toward the entrance of the makeshift hospital. Even as he moved, the moan of a wounded man floated to his ears, and he turned to look out into the city. With a sigh, he began again his slow trek into the hospital. Heaven knew that if he had had the strength to help the wounded, he would have; but his own wounds had weakened him to the extent that he could hardly stand. Moving toward the back of the barracks, he collapsed in the first empty bed that he came to.
Seven
Josiah rubbed his eyes, trying very hard not to fall asleep before he undressed. The day had dragged on as he had helped countless wounded, both friends and enemies. By the time all of the wounded had been moved into one of the barracks, the sun had set. And at the moment, Josiah wanted nothing more than to crawl into a tent and fall asleep. Just after he had pulled off his boots, however, Cirro stuck his head into the tent.
“What?” Josiah asked groggily. He rubbed his eyes again and then stared at Cirro through blurry eyes.
“The grand admiral wants you at his headquarters right away,” Cirro stated.
Josiah sighed heavily and began to pull his boots back on. The thought of spending even more time awake didn’t appeal to him, not to mention the fact that the grand admiral would probably want him to be able to think.
“Do you have any idea what he wants?” Josiah asked as he rose to his feet.
“Not officially,” Cirro answered.
“If I thought you knew officially, I would have asked you what he wanted, not if you had any idea what he wanted,” Josiah responded. “What’s the latest rumor going around?”
“Most people think he is going to discuss what to do about the dwarves that are headed toward Belmoth,” Cirro said.
“Oh joy,” Josiah groaned with a shake of his head. “That’s just what I need. We’ll be making decisions that could cost people their lives, and we haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in more than three days.”
“I suppose that’s the way this business goes, Commander,” Cirro answered. He held the tent flap open as Josiah stepped out into the open.
“When I come back, I’ll probably have bad news for you, Cirro,” Josiah called over his shoulder as he left. “You’d better get your weapons ready; my guess is that we’ll be chasing those blasted dwarves.”
He heaved another sigh as he headed toward the grand admiral’s office just to let anyone within hearing distance know that he was not pleased.
“Not that there’s anybody out here,” he said out loud. “Everyone with half a brain in his head is already in bed.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” a voice close by said, startling Josiah. He spun around and saw Lemin emerge from an alley.
“Well, with all due respect, Admiral, what in heaven’s name are you doing still awake?” Josiah asked.
“Probably the same thing you’re doing,” Lemin replied. “The grand admiral of the academy asked for my attendance in his office.”
“Yeah, that’s where I’m going,” Josiah replied. “I just hope that we make the right decision,” he added as he started walking again. “I mean, none of us has had a real night’s sleep in several days. And I don’t know about the others, but I think it’s beginning to affect my thinking.”
“You may be right,” Lemin answered. The two companions were silent until they reached the headquarters of the grand admiral. As they passed through the doors of the building, Lemin said, “Yes, you are correct in saying that sleep deprivation might affect our thinking. But one thing is certain, if we are to defend Magessa as we have sworn to do, we have to decide what to do immediately. All we can do at the moment is what we think is right, and may Elohim help us.”
“Amen,” Josiah responded and came to a halt in front of the door to the grand admiral’s office. “Speaking of which, I suppose that we should ask Elohim for guidance before we go into this meeting.”
“You are right,” Lemin said. He bowed his head and began to pray. “Almighty God, we thank you for providing deliverance from the dwarves, but now we are faced with another dilemma. Please give us your guidance and wisdom as we go into this meeting. Help us to come to a conclusion that is from you. Amen.”
Josiah raised his head and saw that Lemin was already entering the grand admiral’s office, so he quickly followed. Inside, seated or standing around a large, round table were the grand admiral of Saddun, Grand Admiral Wellter, General Uriah, various generals of the army from Gatlon, and the other four commanders of the Saddun army. Of these four, Josiah recognized two—Velikogo and Smether. Josiah had heard that the other two had fallen in battle, and he figured that these new faces were their replacements. Other men that he didn't recognize were also present, bringing the number of those present to just over twenty.
“I don’t think we can give chase to the army at the moment,” was the first thing that Josiah heard as he entered the room. This comment came from a man who was standing on the far side of the room.
“I didn’t realize that whether or not we chase the enemy was the question at hand,” Lemin shot back. Every head in the room turned to face the newcomers who had apparently entered the room quietly enough to prevent earlier detection. Lemin stepped up to the table that filled a large portion of the room and leaned his hands on it.
“I know, General,” he said, addressing the man who had spoken, “that you took an oath to protect Magessa; is that not correct?”
“That is correct, sir,” the man answered shortly.
“Then it would seem to me that it is your duty to plan how you are going to counter this threat to the country, not to cower inside your castle and hope that others will do the work that is appointed to you.” Lemin glared at the general until the other’s eyes dropped in shame.
“In my opinion,” Lemin said as he straightened and clasped his hands behind his back, “we were put here in this position at this time so that we can help defend Magessa. While others might make the decision to ignore the threat due to personal safety, we have the chance to make the decision that is hard to make: the decision to do what is right. Indeed, what is right is almost always hard to do.”
“You said that we were put here for a reason,” another general from the army of Gatlon spoke up. “Put here by whom?” Lemin looked the man straight in the eyes.
“Put here by Elohim,” Josiah answered before Lemin could speak. The general who had posed the question snorted.
“Well, i
t looks like someone here still believes in bedtime stories. Don’t tell me that you actually believe in Elohim. If he’s real, where’s your proof that he exists?”
“Look around you, man,” Lemin almost shouted. “The trees, the hills, the animals, all of the races; who do you think made all of these? If you do not believe in Elohim, then how did all of this come into existence? And if that isn’t enough proof for you,” Lemin snapped his fingers, and flames sprang to life on their tips. With an upward motion, Lemin sent the flames floating toward the ceiling, changing shapes as they went. When they reached the ceiling, they changed into a single column that shot downwards and was absorbed by Lemin’s hand.
“Then again,” Lemin said as he finished his display, “we aren’t here to discuss Elohim. We’re here to discuss what to do about the dwarf army that remains.” He reached for a map that was rolled up on the table and unrolled it to reveal Magessa and the surrounding lands. “The dwarves left the city and are traveling west, probably staying very close to the Apathy range. If we leave a small force here to protect the city, we can take the rest of the army after the dwarves. A messenger can take a horse further north, pass the dwarves, and take a warning to Belmoth.”
“Better yet,” Wellter said as he rose to his feet. “We can split our army into two parts. The human part can follow the dwarves along the range, and the elves can go further north, pass the dwarves, and come up in front of them. This way, we might be able to force them to fight on the plain where all of their siege equipment will be useless. Of course, either way…”
“We’re in trouble if we don’t get dragon support,” one of the new commanders of Saddun’s army finished. Wellter nodded and sat back down.
“There’s a station of dragons somewhere in the southern end of the Orc range,” someone offered.
“Yes, there is,” Lemin acknowledged, “but by the time our messenger finds the station and the dragons fly up to the battle, it could be too late. No, I think the Belvárd academy is our best bet.”
“One problem there,” Josiah objected. “There’s no pass across the range, so the messengers will have to go around. They’ll never make it in time.”
“The two cadets that I have in mind for this task are exceptional,” Lemin answered. “They’ll cross the range, and if they can get to the academy in record time, this crazy plan might actually work.”
The grand admiral of Saddun looked at those around him as though searching for advice. He leaned his elbow on the table and rubbed his face with his hand. His gaze drifted around the room again and finally came to rest on Grand Admiral Wellter. Wellter gave a shrug and spoke up.
“Personally, I think this plan is our best bet for defeating those dwarves. Of course, our numbers are rather thin, but there are still enough men to work with. Obviously we want to have a strong force to strike the rear of the enemy. But on the other hand, we don’t want too small of a force at their head. I’ll take maybe eight thousand elves around to the front of the dwarf army, while the rest of the soldiers will strike at the rear.”
“But that leaves no one to defend Saddun,” a general objected.
“True,” Wellter admitted.
“On the contrary,” the grand admiral of Saddun interjected. “That messenger said that one of his brothers had been sent to the ogres.” He turned to Wellter. “Do you know if they are coming to our aid?”
“I should have thought of that,” Wellter said. “They are only a day’s march away.”
“How do you know that?” a general asked.
“We elves have our ways of knowing these things,” Wellter said. “You can rest assured that the ogres are coming.”
“The ogres would be a great advantage in the battle,” Lemin put in. “Perhaps we should leave some humans to defend Saddun and take the ogres to the battle.”
“Two problems there,” Josiah spoke up. “First, the ogres are a day’s march away. We’ll have to leave now if we hope to catch the dwarves before they reach Belmoth. Second, while the ogres were willing to come and help to defend Saddun, they may not want to march out against the dwarves with us." A contemplating silence followed, but was finally broken by Wellter.
“The fact that the ogres are a day away is no problem,” he countered. “They are quick and can catch up to us easily. In respect to the other worry, though you humans do not have the best relationship with the ogres, we elves are very friendly with them. I think that if I leave an elf here to voice the request, they will follow.”
“In that case, you should take all of the elves to the front of the dwarf army,” the grand admiral of Saddun said to Wellter. “If the ogres bring two or three thousand soldiers to swell our numbers at their flank, that will more than make up for the elves.”
“Quite so,” Wellter laughed. “Considering that I will only be taking about a thousand elves from the rear. Besides that, I would count on between four and five thousand ogres. They may be a small nation, but when they turn out to fight, their numbers are surprising.”
“That will put nine thousand elves at the army’s head and six thousand humans plus the ogres and a few orcs at their rear,” Lemin confirmed. “Make that three thousand humans plus the ogres and orcs,” he corrected himself. “We’re going to have to leave someone to defend this city.
"The enemy has an unknown number of soldiers, but our estimates are that they could have anywhere from fifty to seventy-five thousand. No matter which way you look at it, this battle is going to go badly unless we get dragon support.”
“What about additional support from the elves?” Josiah asked Wellter.
“The forest across the mountains is sending an army that has probably three or four times the number of elves that we have now, but they won’t get here for days. It could take as long as two weeks for them to arrive.”
The Grand Admiral of Saddun finally spoke, commanding the attention of every man in the room.
"There’s only one thing that worries me. Why did the dwarves discontinue their attack against this city? They could have crushed us if they continued the offensive.”
“Their plan depended on speed and surprise,” Lemin responded instantly. “I assure you that I have thought over these same events many times, and that is the only reasonable explanation. They expected to take the city so quickly that we would not be able to send messengers to the rest of Magessa. When we held them off, they made the most of their situation by leaving a token attack force here to trick us into thinking that they were still here. Our messengers would bring the armies of Magessa to this place, while the main body of the dwarf army would attack Belmoth and take it quickly since they would not be expecting the attack. With all of Magessa’s armies here, they would be free to attack the rest of the country.”
"How in heaven's name could the dwarves think that this would work?" the Grand Admiral of Saddun asked. "You're trying to tell me that they evacuated 75,000 soldiers from the city and hoped that we wouldn't notice? That seems unlikely."
"We wouldn't have noticed if it wasn't for the magicians here," Lemin countered. "Sure, we would have noticed tomorrow, but they think that damage is already done. With the armies of the country headed to Saddun, we would have to send messengers to find them once we realized what was happening, a process that would take days. As I said, their plan is all about speed and surprise, and in this case, misdirection."
"So, let's say that I subscribe to your theory," the Grand Admiral of Saddun said. "What then?"
“If that is indeed the case, we won’t have to worry about the city,” Josiah commented. “We could probably take all of the soldiers here with us without concern of a repeat attack.”
“That is not a good idea,” an elfin general said. “The three thousand men will be sorely missed at the battle; however, if any renegade dwarves wander back this way, we need to have a force here, however small, to beat them off.”
“In either case,” Lemin said, “the messengers will have the academy send dragons here as well as to th
e battle.”
“So let me get this straight,” Wellter interrupted. “I will take my soldiers around to the front of the dwarf army while the humans here and the ogres that are coming will attack at the rear of their army, leaving only a force of three thousand to defend Saddun. While we are moving into position, two messengers will be racing to the academy in Belvárd to get us air support. The academy will send dragons to both the battle and here to Saddun. We can attack the dwarves while they are sandwiched between the marsh and the mountains. The terrain will compress their battle lines and prevent them from circling around us. Two large armies, one elfin and the other from Magessa, are coming to this city, so when we defeat the dwarves, we should move to Belmoth to defend it against any attacks. This position will assure Magessa’s defense for the moment until we can sort out the situation.”
The next hour was spent ironing out the details of the campaign. Josiah found most of this very boring and wished that he was in bed. Only one part of the entire meeting interested him—the point when it was decided who would go to the battle and who would stay in Saddun. Lemin volunteered his cadets to guard the city. There were no people enthusiastic enough to undertake the responsibility so several companies of soldiers were ordered to join Lemin’s cadets. It was suggested that Josiah’s soldiers should also stay in the city, but Grand Admiral Wellter would not hear of it. The cadets' performance in the last battle had been so exemplary that the idea of them staying behind was quickly discarded. The discussion turned to other details, and Josiah listened, but did not participate. The only other detail that he caught was when the army was supposed to leave the city. Everything after that was a blur. He vaguely remembered walking from the grand admiral’s headquarters to his tent and telling the legion’s watchman what time he wanted to be awakened. The last thing he remembered was falling into bed.
