Tallun did not hear the conversation between Tyner and Jo-Dal atop the redoubt. Tyner’s vision had still not yet recovered to the point that he could make out details in dim light, but Jo-Dal described what was happening below them.
“Ladders you say?”
“Yes, Lord King,” Jo-Dal answered. He opened his scope and took a long look. He smiled. He snapped the glass shut. “The ladders are crudely made, and the rungs are barely secured using only twine. Any fighter larger than a lad of ten summers would collapse the entire affair.”
Tyner immediately understood. “Not precisely what one would expect to stand up to lines of fully armed men using them at the same time.” The king grinned. “Surely they don’t think us so dense.”
“Their commander appears to have great confidence in his own genius.” The Commander of the Aspellian forces called over a Sub-Commander and gave him instructions. The man nodded and beckoned for several others to follow.
Tyner squinted in an attempt to see more clearly. “Do you think they will be so dull in their thinking that the real attack will come from the exact opposite side?” he asked.
“We’ll know soon.”
A short time later the Sub-Commander returned and gave his report. Pirates had been spotted lurking in the wooded areas in the exact opposite direction from where the ladders were being staged. The sentries had even observed them to be carrying padded grapples.
Tyner looked at his young protégé. “Do we shut this down the moment they move or do we allow as many on the wall as possible before taking action. What say you?”
It was not a difficult decision for Jo-Dal. “We use this to our advantage and kill as many of them as we can manage. Maybe the blow to their morale will convince them to slink away like the diseased curs that they are.”
Tyner studied the face of his Sword. “As a gentleman I have grave concerns about your mindset, Jo-Dal. As a military man I could not be more proud.”
That was how it went down. Tallun ordered his sacrificial lambs to carry the ladders to the stronghold and engage in a pretense of attempting to scale the wall. The Aspellians took advantage of the opportunity to sink arrows into the bodies of as many of them as they could manage.
Then the pirates on the other side of the wall threw their grapples and managed to get thirty or so men over the edge before they were also attacked. All but three of that group were skewered by the excellent archers in the redoubt. Two of the ones who escaped that fate met one just as harsh by voluntarily leaping off of the wall to the rocks below. The third pirate was desperately climbing down one of the ropes when it was cut. The warrior who cut it waved ‘goodbye’ at the pirate before doing so.
No, there had not been a lot of successes against the stronghold in Tallun’s past, but he was optimistic of today’s chances.
Today he was pinning his hopes on a contraption that had been thought up by one of his quartermasters who had actually attended a university for two summers before being forced to flee ahead of a murder charge. His machine was a wheeled assault shelter which was propelled by burdenbeasts. The difference between this machine and the several others that had been tried in the past was that it used a fairly impressive rigging of ropes and poles so that it was pushed forward instead of being pulled. This arrangement allowed the machine to get closer to the gate. The roof of the shelter was sheathed in metal so that it could not be set ablaze which was another problem they’d experienced. The thought was that the shelter would protect some twenty men as they peeled away the metal coverings which protected the thick wood of the gate. If enough of the plate could be levered off they hoped to be able to start a fire and weaken the structure.
Tallun and his men watched from a safe distance as the heavy shelter was wheeled forward by the poor animals. The animals were also protected from arrows and spears, but the weight of the object coupled with the steepness of the approach was almost beyond their abilities to overcome.
As the shelter reached a certain point arrows began to streak out and bounce off of the metal shell. Tallun allowed himself a measure of hope. When the shelter had been pushed to about thirty paces from the gate, large rocks began falling on it from the defense levels of the stronghold. These, too, bounced harmlessly off of the peaked roof.
When the pirate contraption was at a distance of twenty paces from the gate, large buckets of a substance that was unidentifiable from a distance began being dumped from the stronghold onto the sloping road. Gallons upon gallons were being dropped to smack wetly on the cobbled road below. The substance was gelatinous and lumpy. It “gooshed” and spread then began sliding slowly down the decline toward the advancing assault machine. At ten paces, just before the shelter was at the desired point, the wheels began to slide backward on the road. The burdenbeasts, huge animals with immense strength, were unable to keep their footing in the goop that was now flowing around their feet. They began slipping and screeching in terror and confusion.
For a moment the backward movement of the shelter kept it inching along its path. Then the animals bellowed as their feet lost all traction, and they, the assault shelter and the pirates hiding underneath it all began to slide more quickly down the hill. The shelter gained speed as gravity pushed it along. The pirates inside had to leap for safety off to the sides of the contraption to escape being crushed by the wheels or trampled by the burdenbeasts. Those same men then found themselves without cover and within archer range from the wall. Only two made it back to safety.
Tallun questioned one of the survivors and found out that the substance used to foil their brilliantly devised scheme was animal viscera mixed with kitchen grease. What really stung Tallun, though, was the laughter filtering down to him and his men from the stronghold.
***
The dust of the road was unusually thick on this morning, and it was sticking into the back of Toria’s throat making her cough incessantly. The sun was not yet fully overhead, but the temperature was already uncomfortable. It would be a hot one. The hooves from the cavalry mounts made everything worse as they constantly threw the dry, powdery soil from the road up into the air. From Toria’s position walking at the rear of the caravan it seemed as if every speck of the stuff was seeking her out. She knew she was covered with it. Her arm was coated with a mixture of sweat and dirt. Her back hurt, and she had to constantly switch the heavy soup pot from her left hand to the right.
Directly in front of her Geraar sat in the back of the last wagon. He was clean and relatively cool in the shade that the canopied wagon provided. His legs dangled from the wagon lip, and he had a half-smile on his lips. He was looking directly at Toria. A charon clomped by her and threw a gooey clod onto her chest. It smacked into her and stuck and then slowly slid downward to drop away. Geraar laughed. Toria decided that she would tolerate one more laugh from him before bending the soup pot around his ears.
She quickened her pace until she was right up next to the wagon.
“You know, there is more than enough room in there for both of us,” she observed.
Geraar pretended not to notice her at first. Then he widened his eyes, put a hand behind one ear and said, “I’m sorry, did you say something?”
She stuck out her bottom lip so that she could blow a spout of breath upward to push a string of hair out of her face. “You know that I said something. Why do you pretend otherwise?”
“An intelligent question,” he allowed. “However, you are being trained to be observant as any good sentry must be. There is always a chance that you will be distracted while on watch, and you must learn to ignore those distractions. Lives may depend on your ability to do that. The walking, the heat, the dust and the pot will help you develop the skills necessary to be an alert and effective guard.”
She stumbled slightly and switched the pot to the other arm again. “And I suppose you laughing at me is also done purely as another distraction?”
He put his chin in his hand and cut his eyes upward as if pondering a deep question. Finally h
e grinned and shook his head. “No. That is being done for my own amusement.”
Toria leapt forward, launching the pot over her head by the wire handle. It struck where Geraar had been only seconds before he rolled agilely over backwards and ended up deeper inside the wagon.
At the front of the procession Vynn, Taggart and Tophar were walking together. Tophar was leading his charon by the reins.
Taggart kept his head low as if he were studying the sides of the road, but he was examining the topography directly ahead under his brows. “Up ahead on the left,” he said quietly. “Back behind that thicket.”
Vynn acted like he was patting Tophar’s charon. “I see him. Or rather them. I make it to be at least two.”
Tophar used the free end of the reins to look as if he were shooing flies away. “Two, I think. Should I send a team to check them out, Lord Vynn?”
Vynn replied. “No need, it seems as if they are making their presence known.”
The three men watched as two people, one male, one female, stepped out from behind the thicket and into the middle of the wide dirt road. They both wore faded uniforms of the Aspell Warriors. The colors had been almost obliterated by dirt and mud which had been deliberately ground into the threads. Their faces also had dried mud smudged on them. The effect of all the dirt and mud had rendered the two almost invisible against the road.
Tophar swung up into the stirrups and pointed to the four warriors in the front of the column. Together the five trotted up ahead and began a dialogue with the new arrivals. When Taggart and Vynn caught up, Tophar made the introductions.
“This is Tay and Lyyl,” he said, pointing first to the girl. “Lyyl is one of the two warriors in charge of the re-activated Aspell military. He has information about the siege.”
Taggart recognized the man’s name and asked Tophar to send a rider to the rear of the procession and fetch Toria. The cavalryman galloped noisily off. Both of the warriors were exhausted but still reacted with awe when they saw Taggart’s size. They seemed as if they had further questions, but they then noticed Vynn’s insignia as the Sword of the King for Olvion and snapped to attention. Even though they were from a different kingdom all warriors observed the rank of any military person.
“Please, relax,” Vynn said. He pulled a jug from the first wagon in line and offered it to them. They eagerly accepted, and everyone waited patiently for them to finish. Every warrior present had been in their position in the past. When they were finally done slaking their thirst Lyyl assumed a position between being at attention and parade rest while he addressed Vynn.
“Lord Vynn, I have the honor to report that our re-activated forces have engaged the enemy on three occasions. We have suffered the loss of eight of our number, but we have held the juncture of the Lion’s Road and the road to Archer’s Gate and Northland. The last engagement transpired before daybreak today. The pirates sent a party of fifty to take the crossroads and probably to see what happened to their earlier parties. We were expecting the move and waiting for them. We had them outnumbered almost two to one. All told we have killed over sixty of them. They are not warriors, but they fight well. Only two were left alive when it was over. One of those died before we started out here to meet you. Our scouts saw your approach.”
Vynn stood silent as the young warrior delivered his report. His expression showed his approval of the group’s actions. “Well done, Lad. You also,” he indicated Tay. “What have you heard from Archer’s Gate and Northland?” He looked at Tay for this information.
“Lord Vynn,” she said somewhat nervously. “King Pryus has sent word that he will send twelve thousand warriors, and they should be arriving by midday tomorrow.”
“And Minos in Northland?” Vynn prompted.
Tay dropped her eyes briefly then met his stare. “King Minos has sent word that he will commit a thousand fighters.” The young archer seemed embarrassed to report such news.
“One thousand warriors out of twenty five thousand,” Taggart said disgustedly. “When this is all over I think I’ll have a talk with Minos in front of the entire Parliament.”
Vynn put his hand on Taggart’s shoulder. “There will be no need. Ruguer will call a joint session of Parliaments for all kingdoms. Minos will be held to answer for his actions. My suspicion is that he enjoys the fact that his kingdom now has the largest standing military. The Great War was devastating to most everyone else. He only committed five thousand to the last battle of that war. The other kingdoms did not raise an objection at that time, but this…this is sheer, bald cowardice.”
The warriors around him cast their glances elsewhere. It was unusual to have any military officer of high ranking criticize a sitting king. Taggart caught his eye and beckoned with his head that he should follow him. The two crossed over to the other side of the lead wagon. Taggart motioned for Tophar to join them. Vynn had calmed himself down by that time.
“I apologize for losing control of myself,” Vynn said. “It really makes little difference now, we will have the invaders significantly outnumbered, but I can’t abide cowardice in any form.”
Taggart quickly filled Tophar in on the news they’d received. He, too, was angered. “I agree that it makes little difference now, but Minos was the one king who was most insistent on holding back his warriors in the Great War. He relented only after it became obvious that the people and the military were getting ready to implement removal proceedings against him. His actions cost Olvion the lives of many brave warriors.”
Vynn nodded in agreement. “And to think that he and his kingdom were protected by our Olvion brothers and sisters.” He shook his head.
Taggart saw the need to redirect their attention. “Well, back to the problem at hand. With the contribution from Archer’s Gate we will have the pirates at a disadvantage that they cannot possibly overcome. The most likely outcome will be that they will see the reality of their chances and simply depart.”
Tophar looked pensive.
“What bothers you, Warrior,” Vynn asked.
The cavalryman squared his shoulders and looked at the foothills to the south. They climbed to great heights. He slicked back his thick hair with both hands. “I don’t want to seem small-minded, and I don’t want to put more of our warriors in harm’s way unnecessarily, but, damn the stars, I do not want these vermin to simply slink away on their ships without paying a price, one big enough to keep them from considering such actions again.”
Vynn slapped the young warrior on the back. “Fear not. We will send them home with a healthy respect for the warriors of the Four Kingdoms.”
***
Tallun was sitting in the inn that he had commandeered as his base of operations. He was in a mood. The days of unsuccessful attempts to breach the stronghold were taking their toll. His reputation as a leader was sinking. Pirates lived a life that demanded action at all times. As a group they had short attention spans and a distinct lack of patience. Their idea of a successful venture was a quick strike followed by a day or two of celebration and debauchery. They would then race back to Kylee and spend all that they had stolen. Waiting out a siege was not their style. Tallun knew that they would only stay here with him for a limited time.
He had only one new tactic up his sleeve. If it did not pan out he would be forced to call retreat and return home with everyone knowing that Captain Jile had been right. The only thing he had accomplished after Jile’s departure was the loss of over sixty men. That loss signaled that other forces were marshalling against them. Damn that Fauwler! He had arranged the escape of most of the captured crew of the Wind of Aspell. With a little more gentle torture, Tallun may have been able to extract enough information to clearly judge what other threats existed on this damnable continent.
The door to the inn opened, and three men entered. They were all crewmen for the Talisman, flagship for Captain Noler. Noler was one of the later captains to join the endeavor. He had been lured by the prospect of female slaves. Though slavery had only recently bec
ome legal in Kylee, some captains allowed their men access to the women of captured towns. Most of the coastal settlements in the continent of Bantar, where Kylee was located, had been raided so many times that they had devised schemes to frustrate the pirates. At the first sign of a sail the women were spirited away to hiding places, and all treasure was securely hidden behind well-defended redoubts.
The diminishing of easy prey was one of the reasons that Tallun and Lampte had been so excited about the discovery of a new continent. It promised an entirely new and unprotected coastline to plunder.
The men came into the inn looking around themselves as if they expected to be set upon at any moment. Their timidity angered Tallun, but he swallowed his urge to lash out. These men represented his last chance to salvage his enterprise. The men were filthy. Their canvas trousers were caked with damp mud, and their kerchiefed heads showed streaks of grime.
Tallun turned around in his chair. “Well?”
The shortest one was their spokesman. He was average in size for all men in Olvion, around five feet, six inches. He was made more recognizable by the scar that ran from his brow to his upper lip, the result of a knife fight. His name was Barl.
“Beggin’ your pardon, Cap’n,” Barl said while stooping slightly in a crude semblance of a bow. “I think we done found what you was lookin’ for.”
Tallun shot up from his chair sending it crashing into the wall behind him. The three men recoiled. “You have? If you’re right I’ll see to it that each of you get an extra share. Quickly now, show me what you’ve found.”
***
Toria was back at the rear of the column when a rider approached her. He was a strapping lad of about twenty summers. He smiled broadly as he reined in. “You would be Toria?”
The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion Page 21
