***
Lampte looked around once more, searching for Tallun. Most of this mess was his doing and he was not even here to share the fight. Maybe he had already been killed elsewhere in the city. He doubted it. The pompous serpent would avoid danger at all costs. He was most likely hiding in an attic somewhere, shaking like a wet cur.
The Governor had decided to divide his forces. He had a number of fighters which totaled somewhere around thirty five hundred. His three areas of concern were the major concentration of enemy soldiers which was directly in front of his position, the slightly smaller concentration of invaders to the east and the ships which were still entering the harbor.
Once the entire invasion fleet was assembled within the harbor, they would make a run for the piers and the quay wall, trying to tie up and offload additional fighters. Tallun decided to designate a thousand of his seamen to keep track of the fleet and prevent them from putting their men ashore. There would be more than a thousand fighters aboard those vessels, but it would be extremely difficult to offload them while fighting their way into port.
The main force in front of them would probably be commanded by their principal military mind. Lampte estimated those invaders to number six or seven hundred men and women. He had been surprised to see that so many of the outlander fighters were female. The brief battle by the fire trap had left him impressed by their ability.
That left the eastern flank. Lampte’s best guess was that the smaller group totaled around three hundred. That was their best chance for a crippling and morale-sucking strike.
Lampte ordered a thousand pirates to prepare for an attack on the weaker flank. The remaining fifteen hundred or so would remain at the barricades unless the larger force of invaders moved to reinforce the smaller group. Then the remaining force of pirates would move in. They would not try to engage the larger invading force in any way other than to prevent it from reinforcing the eastern flank. Let the outlanders hear the sound of their brothers dying for a change.
Once he had made his decisions he got his fighters moving. After passing the word to his lieutenants, Lampte gave the signal. A dozen bugles blew out a note, and the designated attack force of one thousand pirates and townsmen charged the eastern flank of the invading army.
***
Jo-Dal heard the signal bugles sound. He turned to Palto and gave a signal of his own.
The Olvioni forces had started this campaign with just three hundred archers. One hundred of those warriors had been assigned to Palto’s flank. They waited now, concealed behind the wooden buildings of the waterfront town. Contrary to Lampte’s expectations, they were not hidden in the windows, roofs and attics. This would have given the more accurate Olvioni archers a better field of fire, but tactics were crucial in warfare and a good tactic was worth a thousand men…sometimes. Palto hoped his commander had correctly judged the enemy movements.
When the attack bugles sounded, Lampte’s surviving archers launched a volley of two hundred flaming arrows at the buildings to the east. The shafts had been launched as high as was possible in an attempt to cover the three hundred yards of distance from the town guard barricades. Only a few were able to make it that far, and those had mostly lost their flames after such a long flight.
As per Lampte’s plan the archers were executing a walking assault on the weak flank. They were accompanied by other fighters with tinder boxes and torches that were there to light the treated arrows. They kept up a steady barrage against the outlanders as they advanced. Behind their ranks were eight hundred infantry troops. Actually, they were simple outlaws, but most of them had been in battle before, both at sea and when assaulting seaside towns.
Lampte kept a nervous watch on the main group of invaders to the south. At the first sign of an attempt to reinforce their flank he would order his reserve troops into action. So far there had been no response from the stronger group.
After covering a hundred yards with no response of any kind the pirate assault group grew emboldened. Most of their arrows were still too far away to score meaningful hits on their intended targets, but a few structures were now smoking.
When they were a hundred and fifty yards from the eastern edge of the town, the flaming shafts of the pirate archers began to have an effect. Flames licked up at the sides of the old buildings, shops and homes. There was more smoke now, and more arrows hit their marks.
Still atop his wagon perch, Lampte was watching hopefully. “Yes!” he thought. “The buildings are alight. Now let these invading curs see what it felt like to burn, just as our archers had burned within the warehouse.”
The stretch of buildings under attack spanned a hundred yards of construction. Most of it was now aflame to one point or another. The heat was already being felt by the approaching pirate infantry.
Yet, there were no screams of agony coming from inside.
At a distance of one hundred yards the infantry yelled triumphantly and charged past the archers in their group. The bowmen, feeling like their duty had been done, knelt in the open field and unstrung their weapons.
When the attacking pirate infantry were still seventy five yards from the burning structures a warrior from Jo-Dal’s group atop a three story building stood and raised a yellow pennant. This was the signal that had been previously agreed upon. The hundred archers in the eastern flank took aim over the tops of the burning buildings and loosed their arrows. They had to estimate the range for their missiles, but these were experienced archers and most of their shafts fell upon the approaching pirates. The damage was minor, some thirty or so of their infantry fell. The unaffected barely noticed their dead and wounded brethren.
Palto gave a hand signal, and his archers took five steps backward and launched another volley, this one aimed a bit higher to land closer. These also did little real damage, dropping forty two pirates.
The dance continued, the pirates advancing steadily with swords and axes raised over their heads while the Olvioni archers fell back slowly while launching their arrows.
Then, to the west, Jo-Dal signaled to his archery Sub-Commander. The other two hundred Olvioni archers, augmented by fifty more warriors who were cross-trained as bowmen, fired a volley. These archers were already stationed in the upper floors and rooftops of the Kylee structures behind which the remaining Olvioni troops were concealed. Their unimpeded view of the attacking pirates to the east allowed them to take careful aim. The tightly packed pirate infantry presented a tempting target.
The pirates in the vanguard of the assault did not notice the rain of darts that fell among their fighters in the rear. The two hundred and fifty arrows scored meaningful hits on one hundred and twelve pirates.
A second barrage of arrows from the south did similar damage.
Over by the seawall, Lampte watched impotently as the strength of his attacking infantry dropped by two hundred and fifty fighters in the space of two minutes. He jumped up and down and waved his arms, frantically trying to get the attention of his archers and have them return to the safety of the barricades. The archers, however, were too involved in watching the spectacle that was taking place in front of them. The first line of infantry was now reaching the burning stretch of seafront buildings.
Palto had his warriors abandon the lines of burning structures closest to the water and bade them fall back across a narrow street. With the fire safely insulated by distance he re-positioned his archers. The burning buildings left only a dozen or so avenues through which the pirates could pass. Palto’s bowmen targeted those positions and soon began piling up bodies as they funneled through the openings. The sight of so many of their comrades being shot down had the effect of slowing their progress. The near constant rain of arrows from the south and the east steadily reduced the strength of the pirate attack.
Eventually one of Lampte’s lieutenants saw the handwriting on the wall and ordered a retreat. The infantry quickly backed away from the burnt and ruined edifices, dragging their wounded. Jo-Dal pressed his advantage and dir
ected a last volley of arrows at the exposed and vulnerable pirate archers. Lampte seethed as he saw sixty-two of his valuable bowmen fall. The remaining archers scattered in all directions seeking cover from the hail of death. Lampte knew that some were heading for the hillsides. Those would likely never be seen again.
Of the original one thousand fighters that Lampte had sent against the Olvionis only some five hundred and fifty returned to the barricades. They left their morale behind. This battle impressed upon the pirates the truth of their situation; they may have the outlanders outnumbered, but they were up against a well-trained army. More than a few dark looks were now being directed at Lampte. Twice now they had followed his orders and left five hundred or more of their number dead on the ground. No army could withstand such a loss, especially when the invaders’ casualties appeared to be miniscule in comparison.
To the east, unseen by the pirates, Palto had his archers busy recovering arrows from bodies and other places. He checked his people and saw that he’d lost only six warriors when the pirates had temporarily broken through the deadly funnels. Nine more were wounded but capable of service.
***
Jo-Dal climbed up into the attic of the three story packing house and then ascended the ladder which gave access to the roof. From this vantage point he observed the enemy positions with the aid of his scope.
The man with the beaded hair standing on the wagon had long ago been identified as their commander. Jo-Dal watched now as he argued with several of his deputies. The mood in the pirate camp was growing foul. Many among the town guard appeared disheartened at this latest loss on the battlefield. Jo-Dal had seen this before. While triumph can be intoxicating, loss could be soul-sucking. He watched the manner in which the rank and file behaved. They were sullen, questioning the orders of their supervisors. The four Olvioni archers that had manned the roof for most of the day told him that they had watched as some of the enemy melted away from the barricades and up into the hills to the west. Jo-Dal concluded that these men were abandoning the fight.
The Aspellian Sword of the King knew that things were most likely at a tipping point. If he was reading the battlefield correctly some things could be expected to happen in short order. The enemy was at a point where they would either surrender or mount a full attack. Both possibilities presented their own set of problems. If they surrendered they would soon see how badly they outnumbered their captors. That knowledge, after they had rested and regained their courage, would probably lead to more bloodshed.
If the pirates decided to risk everything on a full scale attack the losses on both sides would be devastating. Of the two options Jo-Dal preferred the former.
The Commander of the Olvioni forces looked to the harbor. The entire fleet was now safely within it, but the sea wall and piers were patrolled by a thousand enemy fighters preventing them from making landfall. The expected two-prong attack that Fauwler, and the Olvionis had planned was being defeated. Jo-Dal knew that he did not have the numbers he needed to assault the pirate barricades. He was still considering his options when a large hand gripped his shoulder. He turned to see Tag-Gar standing there.
“How goes the battle?” asked the big man.
Jo-Dal smiled. “Better than I expected in some ways, worse in others. I fear we are in for a real bloodletting if we cannot open up the piers and sea wall for Fauwler’s fleet to come ashore and reinforce us.”
Taggart looked over the roof wall to take in the entire scene laid out before him. The piers were arranged like twelve fingers on a distorted hand. Access to all of them was gained through a wide street made of packed dirt. There were approximately one hundred of the pirates guarding the entrance to that street. Beyond them the remaining nine hundred enemy were distributed evenly on all of the piers. Any ship trying to offload their people would immediately be swarmed and overtaken.
“The piers are well protected.”
“Too much so. I can’t afford the warriors that would be needed to clear them.” The commander opened his scope again and scanned the area. His brow furrowed. “Wait.” He pointed. “Look at the three piers to the west.”
Taggart did as he was instructed. The three piers were isolated from the others in that they could only be reached by transiting a wooden bridge which was located halfway down the length of the dirt street leading to the piers. Taggart saw that the three outliers were more lightly protected than the others. There were only about a hundred pirates there.
Jo-Dal lowered his scope. “They are evidently convinced that the street leading to the piers is so well-protected that no one could possibly reach those three.” He put his hand to his chin and thought. “I could possibly commit a hundred warriors to an attempt to penetrate the entrance to the piers. Then, if they are successful, it is conceivable that they could rush the defenders on those three outlying piers and briefly open them up for the fleet. We would only need one ship to tie up and offload their fighters. Each ship is supposed to be carrying a hundred crewmen. That narrow bridge could be defended until enough of our allies are offloaded and reinforce our assault team.”
Taggart took another look at the layout of the piers. The bridge would act as a natural barrier and, once taken, could be defended for a short time with only about twenty warriors. That would leave eighty to engage the one hundred pirates that were already guarding the piers. “It might work.”
Jo-Dal nodded. “The crucial part would be to attack that wide street leading to the piers like a spear thrust. They should not worry about taking and holding it, only breaking through it and reaching the bridge to the three western piers. Then, if we are extraordinarily fortunate, they can hold the bridge long enough for the rest of the team to clear out the pirates on those piers.”
Taggart nodded. “Of course, the success of your plan then relies on the captains of those ships to realize what we are trying to do and bring their ships in quickly.” He sighed. “It’s a lot to count on.”
Jo-Dal turned back to look at the piers one last time. Then he observed the pirates at the barricades. “We really have no choice. If the pirates attack the loss of life on both sides will be horrific and we would probably lose. That would make the loss of all of our lives meaningless. The hundred warriors that I’m risking may just save our plan and the lives of their brothers and sisters.” He set his jaw, his decision was made. “It is our only play at this point.”
Taggart leaned against the low wall and folded his arms. “Well, you likened the assault on the street to a spear thrust. Every spear needs a point. Let me be that point.”
The commander looked him squarely in the eye. “I think that is an excellent idea.” Another thought hit him. “What happened with your wife and the rest of the women?”
Taggart smiled broadly. “They are all well and protected by four of our finest warriors. I will give you their location before I leave.”
“That is wonderful news, Legend. Please tell my Sub-Commanders to pass that information to the rest of the warriors. They’ll want to hear it, it is the reason we are here.”
After the decision was made and Taggart was selected to lead it, Jo-Dal gave orders for his lieutenants to solicit volunteers for the assault on the piers. Per a request from Taggart, twenty of them would be archers.
In the days before the Great War, archers were not held in high esteem as warriors. There had been a deeply held bias against them because traditionally they did not engage an enemy “shield-to-shield”. Taggart had challenged that bias and demonstrated the true value of a warrior who could stand back from the battlefield and score multiple kills against the enemy from afar. One of Taggart’s proudest achievements was the elevation of the status of archers in the eyes of their fellow warriors.
Now, as he stood in front of his assault force he sorely missed the comfort of his newly found team of Toria, Tay, Geraar and Lyyl. He had grown confident having them at his back, but he was equally confident to now have them guarding the woman he loved.
Taggart carried h
is legendary sword and mace. Both of the weapons were larger than any warrior on the planet of Olvion could wield. He had obtained them from a mysterious cavern which contained the skeletal remains of the first Legend. Being naked and defenseless he had overcome his revulsion at robbing the dead and had clothed and armed himself. He was also now wearing the black leather vest with silver metal stars and forearm and shin guards. As an afterthought, he included the powerful bow that old Geord had crafted for him. He had left it unstrung and asked another warrior to wedge it down the top of his vest between that garment and his tunic underneath. Once it was in place Taggart took several practice swings both with his mace and sword. The bow remained stationary and it did not hamper his movements. He thought he would likely not have any use for it but decided to leave nothing to chance.
Taggart had formed up his task force in a particular fashion. He had the archers lined up in two rows of ten, surrounded by swordsmen. He didn’t know if his hastily formed tactics would make a difference, but they needed any advantage they could create. He turned to look at his people, they all seemed ready, if a little frightened. So was he.
With a nod to Jo-Dal on his rooftop perch, Taggart led his people through the row of structures which shielded them from being seen by the enemy. He held up a hand to stop them. He then drew his mace from his belt.
Taggart had long ago discovered that he was more of a blunt instrument than a surgical blade. While he was good with a sword, the combination of the lethal and heavy spiked head of the mace along with his strength and size was usually more effective in most combat situations.
The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion Page 46
