by Mark B Frost
“So here’s what I propose. Bring all of the reserves up from New Cainis except for three thousand, giving us our five-digit invasion force. Give the enemy about three days to sit and stew, to think about the situation they’re in, while we build ladders and siege towers. Their guards will see our activities, they’ll see our ten thousand soldiers ready to march on them, and their morale will start to waver again.
“The afternoon of the third day, whenever we feel ready, we’ll make our attack. We’ll get troops to their walls, we’ll get troops over their walls, we’ll get troops through their front gate, whatever it takes. In any case, we’ll get our people into the city and start killing civilians, to make a show of power. We’ll make it a priority to kill some of their leaders, especially their General, and concentrate on killing off as much of Barkus as we can. Once we’ve accomplished these things, their morale will suffer a grievous blow. When you’ve lived without hope for so long, then at last you have some hope and it’s suddenly destroyed, you fall into a deeper despair than ever before.
“Brakken will find and hold off the Emle, neutralizing his threat, and I’ll personally handle the traitor Phare.” Hartik would have been the better choice to contain Myris, but Stratas knew that electing himself would appear more noble. At this moment he needed to regain his commanders’ approval. “And finally, every few hours, or every time it feels like we’re not completely dominating the battle, we’ll bring in another thousand from the city and shuffle the fresh troops to the front. So what do you think?”
Everyone in the tent looked to Karrin, who still had her back turned. She knew they were awaiting her approval of the plan, so she reluctantly turned and nodded. “It is a good tactic. I think that even Derris would have approved.”
Stratas had to bite the inside of his lip until it bled to keep from assaulting her over this comment. He maintained his composure with a slight shiver, and gave a falsely thankful bow. “I’m going to spread the word to some of the other officers and the Grand Elites, to boost our own morale. Now please, go about your normal training exercises and keep your troops in good spirits and peak physical condition. We’re still in a war, and there’s a slim chance the Onion Knights might try something foolish.”
He stepped outside and walked a few hundred yards away from the tent, well out of sight and earshot, then seized the nearest Cainite soldier and beat him to death with his bare hands. By the time his anger was sated he was thoroughly soaked with the dead man’s blood, so he decided to make a trip to New Cainis and have a nice long soak in the bathhouse.
Scarcely an hour later, Myris was delivering the news of Stratas’ decision to Kulara Karfa.
* * * * *
As the sun climbed the eastern horizon and lit up a new day, Kulara entered his command tent with a boisterous smile. He had gotten only a few precious hours of sleep, but he felt fantastic. He had just completed setting into motion the arrangements for the upcoming battle, and he confidently spread the word that it would indeed be the final conflict of the Second Arocaen.
The Grand Council, Military Council, Kalema Dijar and his chief Clan Voice, Jonath, were all waiting in the General’s tent. A few of the younger members had been swept up in Kulara’s enthusiasm, but the elders were skeptical and curious as to what the man was thinking.
Without any pomp he began his explanations. “With the supplements of Barkus, the Templars, the Cavalry, and counting the full Dragoon and Children of Cain ranks, we have a fighting force of twelve thousand soldiers. The estimated number of Cainites still fit for combat is somewhere just over thirteen thousand, which means that we’re finally in a position to win this war.”
Kinguin tapped his foot on the ground. “That assessment seems a bit exaggerated. Just because we’re finally not drastically outnumbered, you seem to be of the unfounded opinion that we’re suddenly the dominating force here. It’s an admirable plan to put up a hyperactive front for the sake of the troops and rebuild their degenerated morale, but you cannot expect that to work on us.”
“Ah, but you don’t yet see things the way I do. We’ve outlasted a force three times our size for several months now, thanks to superior tactics and resilient soldiers. Now that we’re finally standing on a level playing field with the Cainites, now that we can execute a plan without fear of them overwhelming us with their manpower, there is no way that they can defeat us.”
“I do agree,” offered Leprue, “that it is almost certain now that we can win this war. But in a single battle? You must set reasonable expectations, General.”
“I am absolutely certain we can break the enemy army in but a single fell stroke. You, Lord Kinguin, are the key.”
The elder mage raised an eyebrow. “Well I cannot say that I’m surprised. I always did suspect it was a matter of time before I proved to be Felthespar’s salvation. Perhaps we should rename the war to ‘Kinguin Peet’s Greatest Triumph’. This ‘Second Arocaen’ business is so drab.”
Kulara paused to rub his forehead briefly. He suppressed several responses, then turned to explain the situation to the other members of the meeting. “For some time now, I have had Kinguin and the mages of the Arcanum working on a secret project. Leprue, you will have to forgive my presumptuousness, but I did not bring this to the Grand Council. I felt that even if this was in violation of a passed law, it may be necessary to save our people.”
Leprue’s eyes widened in realization. “Kinguin, you wouldn’t dare!” he shouted at the herald.
“Of course I would. You’ve known me long enough by now.”
Cyprus scratched his head in confusion. “Excuse me, but what are you all talking about?”
“The Heraldric Automatons,” Cildar explained.
Leprue turned on him. “You knew about this too?”
“Forgive me, your Lordship. Due to Abaddon’s absence, Kinguin has been using Myris and myself to test the Automatons’ power and response times. I sincerely believe that he may have perfected them to the level of an average Platinum Knight, but it would seem that is their limit.”
“Also,” Kinguin added, “they are only able to fight at their full potential when I use the Staff of the Magi to amplify my will. Thus no other herald would be able to make optimal use of them. As much as it pains me to admit, they will likely never serve as a sufficient replacement to our soldiers. The Council was right to reject my original proposal. Still, courtesy of Kulara, their creation may yet prove to have been worth my significant time.”
Leprue’s face was red, and it was apparent that he might lash out at any second. Kulara interjected, trying to keep a political battle from erupting. “I’m afraid that’s not the end of your participation, Lord Kinguin.”
“There’s little more that I can offer. While I’m controlling the Automatons, I must remain wholly focused on them and cannot cast other spells.”
“Actually, what more I need from you is political. There’s a favor I need that the Arcanum would never grant me, and you’re the only man that can sway them.”
“Ah, that is a simple matter. Make your request and I will see to it that you are accommodated.”
“I want access to the Tunnels of Percephir.”
“Absolutely not,” Kinguin parried smoothly.
“But you just said—” Kulara tried to object.
“I didn’t know you were going to ask for that! You’re right, the Arcanum would refuse you, and I completely support them in that decision. The Tunnels of Percephir are meant to be used as, and only as, the Arcanum’s final escape from the city in case of invasion. It was a right granted to us in return for our allegiance to this nation, and no one in all of Felthespar save the members of the Arcanum High Council know where they run. If we use them, then they are exposed. That cannot be undone! If knowledge of even a single entrance or exit leaked, it renders them insecure and useless.”
Kulara’s enthusiasm faded and his face turned dire. “We need a way to hit the Cainites from behind. Last night Myris mentioned something about
our buddy Abaddon, and that got me to thinking. Daemon’s unique method of developing a strategy is to hinge the entire plan on an early step that’s completely impossible, and then from there find a way to do that very thing. The reason his expeditions were so effective is because no enemy would ever foresee his plans, as they were built critically flawed from the beginning. It’s exactly that sort of chaotic thinking we need right now to win this war. The last thing the Cainites expect in the upcoming battle is for us to take their city and cut off their reserves. Using the Tunnels, we can accomplish the impossible.”
Kinguin deliberated for a moment. Kulara took a glance in Leprue’s direction, noting that the Lord Councilor had been distracted from his outrage. “Just who would you be sending through these tunnels?” the Lord Archmagus asked.
“The Barki troops are best suited to the attack. Supplemented, of course, by your Automatons.”
Leprue’s face twitched at this reminder, but he was unable to beat Kinguin to an outburst. “That’s out of the question! It would be iniquity enough to allow our own civilians see the tunnels, but foreigners? Not in all the lives of Pecoros should I see that happen.” He paused and took a breath, straightening out his hat. “But I can come to a compromise with you. I shall go alone, with my Automatons, and will personally guarantee you the deliverance or destruction of New Cainis, whichever proves necessary.”
“Are you certain you can manage this on your own? You will still be drastically outnumbered. It’s not impossible that the Cainites will discover the secret of your Automatons, as Abaddon once did.”
Kinguin smiled. “Since my encounter with the knight I have learned Cainite invisibility spells; quite invaluable for a puppeteer. Besides, should the worst happen, I have already prepared a contingency plan. Rest assured, there will be no reserves from New Cainis.”
The General bowed deeply. “I must take you at your word. I’ll leave the matter for you to attend. Since the Barki are freed up, I will reallocate them to our front lines. Our numbers were going to be uncomfortably tight there anyway. Next, you all know of the remnants of the Ducall to our west, and the path there that runs through a narrow canyon into a large cul-de-sac?” Everyone nodded. “That location is going to serve as a crucial linchpin. Myris, how do you feel about your folk digging trenches?”
The Cain narrowed his eyes skeptically. “We are not a group geared toward brute strength, General. Digging much more than a few simple holes would sap a great deal of my unit’s energy. If you truly consider this to be our final and most important battle, I cannot possibly recommend such a tactic.”
“I anticipated as much. Cildar, the Dragoons will need to help them out.”
“What?” the paladin exclaimed as he shot to his feet. “You’re going to place our most elite combat unit on manual labor detail? Have you lost your mind?”
“Relax, old friend. All will become clear once I explain the full plan.” Cildar eyed him hesitantly, but returned to his seat. “Zynex, Lathria, you’re going to pull the archers and mages and send them out with the main army. Defending the wall isn’t going to be a priority. Shasta, forgive me the temporary demotion, but I’m going to relocate you as Major over the Cavalry. Once the first phase of my plan is complete you can link with the Phoenix Dragoons. You’ll also need to bring the Dragoons some mounts, since they’ll start the battle without them.”
“General,” Karice interrupted him, “what sort of madness do you have in mind here?”
“I think it might just be my finest work, Kary. A plan fit to impress old Daemon himself. The Cainites don’t know about the Templars, so we’re going to keep them out of sight for a while. Cildar, Myris, and Shasta will be otherwise engaged, and I’ll need the Military Councilors with me. Lord Leprue, might I ask you to command the Templars in my stead?”
“It would be a great honor, Kulara.”
“Then I think that puts everything where we’re going to need it. The Cainites are about to learn how foolish it is to attack Kulara Karfa on his home front. Here are the steps to this dance...”
Chapter 43.
Final Battle of Arocaen
Stratas stepped over the final hill that impeded his view of the city walls. Already a Felthespari force stood lined up in the Ducall region, positioned a good several hundred yards from the city. Stratas’ jaw quivered in annoyance. His personal spy had informed him that there was no activity from the Knighthood, and they were completely unaware of today’s assault. He knew now that his spy had been one of Myris’ agents. Even as he started searching, he was confident the man would never show his face again.
He turned to Karrin and offered, “It would seem that the traitors keep getting better, wouldn’t it?”
“Myris was the chosen Phare,” she responded coldly. “Lord Vaelius does not choose carelessly.”
He decided not to make further conversation with the frigid witch, but instead wandered to where Brakken and Hartik marched. “Listen, it’s going to be up to the three of us to find either their Emle or Myris and keep them busy. Same drill as in the previous battles. If you find one of them, don’t try to kill them, just distract them and don’t let them wear you out. If we can keep them fighting long enough and gain enough of an advantage in numbers, we’ll eventually be able to overwhelm and finish one off. Hopefully.”
The two human weapons nodded, but felt no need to respond. Stratas felt his temper slip another notch, and almost turned to the foolish Tomir for some cheerful banter. Opting against this, he instead decided to focus his rage on the opponent ahead.
The Onion Knights were employing some strange tactics. Up until now they had kept the city walls fully stocked with war mages and archers. Now the ranged fighters had been brought down into the bulk of the army, and mixed in on the far left and right flanks. The Dragoons and former Cainite forces—which represented a full thousand of their best fighters—were nowhere to be seen. There was no cover nearby from which they could possibly launch an ambush, so there seemed no good reason for this absence. With the foot soldiers, Barki, and archers all counted, there was a visible force of seven thousand.
He slipped back over to Karrin’s side. “What do you make of this?”
“We have to start by assuming they know all of the plans you laid out for this battle. They’ve intermingled the archers and war mages on each side of their battalion. I can only surmise they’re hoping to cut down our siege towers before we can get them to the city walls.”
“What about the others?”
“Their missing troops, you mean? If I had a choice of where to put them, I’d place the Dragoons right inside of the front gate, and the defectors along the inside of their wall waiting for our troops to come over it.”
“My, my. That is rather wise. They’re stymieing my plans on getting at their civilians. Countermeasures?”
“The Phoenix Dragoons may be skilled fighters, but they aren’t immortals. There’s only five hundred of them, so if we throw fifteen hundred of our own to storm the city we’ll offset their advantages. Also, if my hunches are correct and this is indeed meant as an ambush, they’re going to open their front gates right up to us, so we won’t have to waste manpower on tearing through them. Still, with the numbers as relatively close as they are, I don’t think it would be prudent to immediately commit so many of our soldiers to that cause. Let’s do some reworking on your strategy. Instead of using the siege towers to get troops into the city, fill them with our best sorcerers and use them to rain destruction down on their forces. Drag their standing army into a protracted battle, wear them down until their numbers start to get thin, and then route a unit forward to break through the front gates and tackle the Dragoons.”
Stratas looked over his shoulder at Tomir, who had been just a step behind them. The Lord Commander gave a nod, and the mystic fell back to relay instructions to his sorcerers. “That’s good, Karrin, very good. But we’re sending two thousand at the Dragoons, no less. If things out here are feeling a little too even at that
point, we’ll send for the first crew of reinforcements.”
Karrin nodded and gave a small smirk. “You do surprise me, Stratas Ezul. Perhaps you’re not all as incompetent as I have believed.”
He gave a huge smile and tightened up a few of the bandages wrapped around his waist. “Let’s just see how you feel about me after we’ve seen today’s outcome.”
* * * * *
Zynex stood in the center of the Ducall plains, watching as the Cainite army approached. A smile spread across his sprightly face, and he slid an arrow across the red notch and nocked it to his bow. He watched the tip crackle with crimson energy for a moment, then arched his back and fired it straight into the air. He quickly seized another arrow from his quiver and fired it as well. The two collided in midair and a huge, red fireball filled the sky. Zynex smiled at the approaching Cainite army for a moment, then turned and headed back to his forces, whispering for his own amusement, “Carpet’s all rolled out for you, fellas. Hope the feast is to your liking.”
* * * * *
Kulara turned his gaze south as the ground turned a shade of red. Zynex had given the signal. It was showtime. He gave a final encouragement to the majors and lieutenants he had been conferring with. “Now remember, not too fast. They need to think it’s happening naturally and that they’re the ones in control. You know the plan, you each know your part, and I have confidence that none of you will fail me. Now go, and let’s send these guys crawling back under the mountain they came from.” He sent them on their way, gathered his councilors to him, and marched to the fore of the army.
