by Bruce Leslie
The man in the gray tunic shrugged. “You can probably fit four in a canoe.”
“And one would have to bring it back,” said Beverly. “So, we could deliver three at a time?”
An old man, leaning against a walking stick, shuffled forward. “Maybe we wouldn’t put people in the canoes.”
The Lump furrowed his brow. “Then what in the name of Sol would we do with them?”
“Spread the planks across them,” answered the old man. “The canoes would strengthen the middle, and could be crossed as securely as any bridge in the land.”
The Lump grimaced. “Well, there’s only one bridge in Aardland, and it ain’t too berry-popping secure.”
“But this…” Meena looked at the Lump, then at the old man. “This idea could work. We would still need to harvest wood.” She tilted her head. “All the cut wood has been taken, I assume?”
“Aye, that it was,” answered the old man.
Meena brought a finger to her chin and lines formed in her brow. “We would need to construct the canoes, cut the planks, and carry them to the river. Then, we would need to construct our floating bridge as quickly as possible.”
A woman’s voice called out, “Yes, that could work, but I think there’s a faster, less cumbersome way.”
Meena surveyed the crowd, searching for the source of the voice. “Please, come forward and share your thoughts.”
A woman stepped to the front of the gathered people. She had dark hair touched with strands of white and wore a faded, yellow tunic that came to her knees. Beneath her tunic she wore black, cloth breeches and brown leather boots.
Meena smiled at the woman. “May I ask your name?”
“My name is Alice,” answered the woman.
Meena asked, “Alice, how do you propose we cross?”
Alice answered Meena’s question with a question. “You ever catch a fish? With a net, I mean?”
The corners of Meena’s mouth drooped. “No, I must confess I have not.”
“How about a kite?” asked Alice. “You ever fly one?”
The Lump drew down his brows. “You mean a bird?”
Alice shook her head. “No, you numbskull.”
Flynn’s face lit up with a grin. “I think I like her!”
Alice looked at Flynn and grunted, then turned her gaze back to Meena. “I mean a piece of cloth, stretched across a frame that catches the wind and floats on it.”
“No, I have never flown one of those,” said Meena.
“Well, I have,” said Alice, “and I can get us across. I can make a sort of bridge quicker than we can build canoes and hew planks.” She crossed her arms. “We can deploy it quicker than tying up boats across the water, not to mention I can make it wider so we cross fast.”
Meena nodded and considered the woman’s words. “And what do you need for this?”
“That’s the problem,” said Alice. “I’d need a lot of good rope. I think we can scrounge that up, but I’d also need cloth.” She shrugged, arms still crossed. “I’d need lots of sturdy cloth, probably more than I’ve ever seen. The problem is, the invaders took all our cloth.”
From the crowd’s rear, the Abbot called out, “Not all of it.”
Meena raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
The Abbot strolled forward with his men-at-arms. “We have a store at the abbey, incredible stores of blue cloth, actually.” He laughed slightly. “Solsons are not so easy on their robes as one would imagine, so we always have need to make more. Thus, we stockpile very sturdy blue cloth.”
Alice grinned. “That could work.” She arched an eyebrow. “We will need some strong swimmers that can get across quickly and hold their ground for a bit.”
Meena flashed a sly smile. “I just may know some swimmers who can do that.” She drummed her fingers against her staff. “I may get a hundred such warriors, and their weapons and armor won’t hinder their swimming.”
Alice wrinkled her forehead. “What kind of warriors can do that?”
Meena held a hand by her side. “The special kind who only fight for me.”
Alice laughed. “Then I can’t wait to meet these fellows.”
The Lump raised an eyebrow. “If it’s something like I think it is, you may not want to be so eager.”
Meena waved a hand. “It seems the riddle is solved.” She rested her hand on her hip. “That means we no longer fight soon. Instead, we now fight very soon.”
29: The River Crossing
Before marching south for their final assault on Eugene, the Dragonblinder army made a careful inventory of its resources. The Lump oversaw this accounting personally, seeking personal assurance of its accuracy. He hoped to be pleasantly surprised, and he was.
The Hill-Folk in his vanguard numbered one hundred and four, previously from four different clans but now identifying themselves only as Dragonblinders. One hundred sixty-one volunteers from the Common Lands made the march south, including all the original refugees from Galliston. Fifty-nine folk from the area around Bleuderry mustered at Beverly’s request, and when the mustachioed man was counted it made it an even sixty. Forty of the Bleuderry folk were fit for fighting, while the other twenty could provide valuable support services. This brought the grand total of fighters to three hundred and five. If the over-commander’s assertion that Eugene had six hundred footmen was true, that meant the Dragonblinders were only outnumbered two-to-one in terms of manpower.
The gap in available arms and armor was more concerning. The Lump counted seventy-five halberds, fifty long-axes, and thirty-two swords (including his own tiny blade) among his force’s armament. There were also sixty bows, each with a quiver of arrows, four glaives, and an ample supply of crude cudgels. Completing the list of weapons at hand was a humble supply of arms improvised from tools intended for use in either the home or field. The amount of armor available was much less than weapons. In total, they had ninety-nine drapes of mail, though the quality varied greatly.
One aspect of their strength the Lump struggled to account for was Meena’s personal army of beasts and birds. He knew she intended to use bears, but had no idea how many bears could be found in the surrounding forests. Another uncertainty was what quantity of bears she could reliably control. Meena avoided all questions posed to her on the subject, in part, the Lump suspected, because she herself was uncertain. He also wondered whether she would concentrate solely on bears, or if she would also call on birds or stags. Perhaps catamounts could be handy in a fight like this, or maybe even a nice, ferocious pack of wolves. Upon further consideration of stags, which had always been a part of Meena’s actions in the past, he decided stags wouldn’t contribute much to the fight on the Dragonblinders’ horizon.
The Dragonblinder army marched south in a surprisingly well-ordered fashion considering their collective lack of experience. They didn’t bother avoiding the proper roads until they drew near the river. The likelihood of encountering spies or watchmen nearer the castle led them to steer wide of Pog’s Landing and travel beneath the cover of the woods. Moving cross country as a unit was not a simple endeavor for a body the size of the Dragonblinders. They made their way as near the north bank of the Oxhorn River as the tree line allowed.
Prior to embarking, Alice worked tirelessly to assemble her constructs of rope and cloth that had been carried south in over a hundred packs. As for the Abbot, he did not disappoint in the amount of blue fabric he provided.
Pre-dawn darkness shrouded the Dragonblinders with the river’s waters visible beneath the last, pale light of the quickly disappearing moon. Meena gave Alice a silent nod, and the final stage of preparations began. The army would ford the river as the sun rose, and attack Eugene and the castle at dawn.
Alice crept down to the river’s edge and back several times. She meticulously arranged her mysterious items for what everyone hoped would lead to both a shocking and miraculous trip across the wide body of water.
Alice returned to the cover of the trees and approach
ed Meena. “Everything is ready.” She glanced over her shoulder, toward the river, then back to Meena. “Now, where are these special warriors you promised?”
“They are all around us,” answered Meena. “I merely need to call them to arms.” She tapped her staff against the ground three times.
A low growl echoed in the distance, and something rumbled through the trees. Within a few heartbeats, Snowy appeared. The large, white bear trudged past Meena and on to the water. Columns of black bears followed, streaming out of the trees in every direction and plodding toward the river bank.
Frightened shrieks came up from the people in the trees. Some folk scampered about to avoid a bear, only to draw near to another. A few of the Hill-Folk brandished their halberds toward the beasts, while some of the Aard volunteers visibly trembled.
“Be calm,” ordered Meena. “They are our allies.”
The Lump held up his big hands. “I know it ain’t easy to believe folks, but she’s telling the truth.”
Large, dark forms continued to lumber through the trees, more bears than the Lump ever thought possible. He asked, “How many of these honey-loving things are there?”
“About a hundred,” answered Meena. “So far as I can tell.”
The Lump did a quick bit of mental math and thought four hundred against six hundred didn’t seem so bad. He then considered one bear may weigh as much as three men, so in terms of weight the fight was now equal.
Alice pointed at the long row of bears forming along the river’s edge. “You need to loop rope around their necks, I doubt they’ll do it on their own.”
Meena nodded. “Yes, but we can do it more quickly as a team.”
Alice opened her eyes wide. “You want me to help?”
“Yes,” answered Meena. “And some others, too.”
The Lump frowned. “These folks are shaking in their shoes at the sight of these growlers, we can’t ask them to help.”
“You and Flynn will,” said Meena. “As well as others who trust us.” She shouted, “Sam, Beverly, we need your help.”
The Lump waved a big hand. “You too, Wooly, and Grumpet, don’t think for a chip-flipping minute you can get out of this work.”
Together, the eight of them snuck down to the river.
“By my estimation,” said the Lump, “we each got to hitch up a dozen bears. Now, lets do it quick-like!”
They set about looping ropes around the necks of the seemingly endless line of bears. After the last loop was placed, they all huddled around Meena.
Meena nodded at Snowy. “Go ahead, girl, lead them across.” She pointed her staff toward the far side of the river.
The bears swam. For creatures so large, they glided easily across the water, their course unaltered by the not insignificant current. A series of nets unrolled behind the bears and fell below the waters surface until the mighty beasts reached the far side and pulled the nets tight.
Long fingers of early morning light rushed forward from the east and shone on the bears as they clawed their way up the south bank. In a watch tower atop the castle’s north wall, a man blew loudly into a horn. A number of footmen assembled along the top of the wall and stared down at the bears in seeming astonishment. One guard waved his arms frantically, perhaps understanding what was afoot.
Alice crossed her arms and cocked her head to one side. “Now it’s time for the vanguard and the cloth.”
Meena nodded. “Yes.” She looked at the Lump. “Wooly will lead them on this charge, I want you to stay with Flynn and me.” Her eyes became blue and green slits. “The three of us will rescue my parents while the armies are engaged.”
The Lump chuckled. “Whatever you say, chief.” He raised a hand and shouted, “Wooly, get your folk across those nets!”
Hill-Folk hooted and shouted, creating a noisy din sure to cause many a rude awakening within the castle. There was no longer any semblance of a clandestine nature to the crossing now, the attack had begun in earnest. The nimble footed warriors bounced across the nets upon bare feet. They pulled lengths of blue cloth behind them that billowed in the morning air like the wings of fantastic, titan-sized, azure birds. The ordeal looked more like the performance of a troupe of acrobats than an act of war.
A few arrows flew down at the bears and Hill-Folk, but it became clear Eugene had not included skilled archers in his force. The Lump remembered with satisfaction that there was a distinct distaste for archers among the Gallisian army.
A few footmen threw whatever objects were close at hand, stones, pots, logs, and other odds and ends. The makeshift missiles failed to travel far enough to impede the advancing forces. The Hill-Folk completed their colorful charge across the river and cloth was now stretched over the netting. This formed a soft, cloth bridge across the river, as blue as a Solson and as wide as the castle.
Meena tapped the Lump on the arm. “Now, we lead the rest across.”
Alice said, “Be sure and do it quick, now. If there’s a delay, it’ll start to sag.” She frowned and shook her head. “That’d make the middle take on water and render the whole thing useless.”
The Lump swung his meaty hand in a wide arc to beckon the remaining folk. “Everybody, now! Let’s get across!” He turned and ran onto the wide, blue bridge. The big man trotted across the river with Meena and Flynn at either side. At first, the soft surface beneath his feet felt like shifting mud, but as he moved forward he started to bounce slightly with each step. Soon, he felt like he was bouncing across rather than running.
The Lump reached the middle of the river and bounced the higher than expected. When his boot came back down to the bridge, it sank into the cloth. He tugged at his foot, but it remained stuck, as if held by a snare. His face blanched with panic and he tugged harder at his foot. The more he pulled, the more it seemed to become ensnared. The movement of people behind him slowed, and the cloth began sinking.
The Lump bellowed, “I swear by Sol, I hate this mud-kissing river! Once I get across, I’m never going near it again!”
Alice splashed past the Lump. “Big Fellow! Keep moving! You’re about to undo all our work!”
The Lump gritted his teeth and growled, then made a noise very much like the croak of a giant frog. He pulled his small sword from its loop and stabbed it into the cloth around his foot, he slashed at the fabric and freed his leg. When he pulled himself free, a strip of blue cloth dangled from his boot.
The Lump slid his sword back into its loop and moved forward. He heard a surprised scream behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed a man with one leg plunged into the opening in the cloth, trapped up to his hip.
“Aw, rats!” The Lump grabbed the man by his collar and plucked him out of the cloth. He shouted, “Watch out for that hole!” The big man turned and continued on to the south bank of the river.
Once upon the river bank, Meena directed the forces. She pointed her staff and shouted, “To the postern gate! Batter it with all you’ve got!” She grabbed Alice by the arm. “Grab some folk and cut the bears loose, I’ll send them around to the front gate to keep anyone from leaving.” She turned to face the river and raised her staff high, then waved it.
The twenty or so people who remained at the far side of the river lit fires into clay pots. Meena swept her staff overhead, and crows flew out of the trees like black specks against the rising sun. She pointed her staff and the birds swooped down to claim the pots. Another sweep of her staff directed the crows across the river and over the castle walls, where they dropped their fiery cargo at the easternmost aspect of the grounds.
Meena lowered her staff to her side and turned to the Lump. “Now, we need to get in quickly and rescue my parents.”
The Lump raised an eyebrow. “How are we going to get in?”
“The same way we got in at Galliston,” answered Meena.
The Lump rubbed his beard. “You mean with goats battering away at a wicket gate?”
Meena shook her head. “No, not how you got in. The way Flynn and
I got in.”
The Lump raised his other eyebrow. “Oh, we’re going to tunnel!” He looked down at his belly, then back to Meena. “I’ll probably need a bigger tunnel than you two.”
“Yes,” snapped Meena. “The digging started working well before we crossed the river. All the chaos will draw Eugene’s forces away, and we should be able to sneak in to conduct our search without being noticed.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said the Lump. “Where’s the tunnel?”
“As far from the pandemonium as possible,” answered Meena. “Come on, let’s get to the southwest corner of the wall.”
30: Baron
Meena emerged from the tunnel under the wall first, followed closely by Flynn. After Flynn, only grunts rose up from the opening, evidence of the Lump’s struggle to wriggle through the narrow passage. Meena admitted that groundhogs dug this burrow, as there was a lack of badgers in the area. The groundhogs were capable enough of digging, but their tunnel allowed little room for the big man’s girth.
Flynn called into the opening. “Hurry, Lump, we need to move quickly.”
“I’m doing my best,” responded the Lump. “I wasn’t made for this!”
“Try not to make so much noise,” chastised Meena. “We need you up here, now.”
Two meaty hands sprung up from the ground and clutched the edge. With a prolonged groan, the Lump pulled himself up and rolled sideways onto the ground’s surface. He breathed heavily as he climbed to his feet.
“Finally,” said Meena. She took a deep breath. “Let’s go!”
“Where to?” asked the Lump.
Meena pointed her staff. “To the castle.”
Flynn lowered his brows and brought a hand to his chin. “Do you think we should search the dungeons?” His other hand clutched a short, wooden cudgel at his hip.
Meena shook her head. “No, I don’t think we could be so fortunate.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked the Lump.
“Eugene knows I am here,” answered Meena. “He will have his hostages close at hand.”
