The Fall of Erlon

by Robert H Fleming

  Pitt frowned. The main force under Duroc was placed just north of Plancenoit, miles away from the Wahrian-Brunian position near the northern Broadwater. Duroc was going to walk through the door of this inn soon, why were they placing his army near Plancenoit?

  Pitt shook his head and rubbed his temples. It wouldn’t be productive to speak up about this small matter. The king would get annoyed and insist he was right no matter how wrong he was.

  A guard came in and announced the approach of the Horde. King Charles straightened and set down his wine. He rubbed his hands together. “Are we ready?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Yes, Your Excellency.”

  “Yes, Your Royal Highness!”

  The staff around the map table made final adjustments to the army placements. Shouts and clanging pots from the kitchen wafted through the door. Pitt followed Charles out the front door to greet their allies.

  The Kurakin delegation came in on horseback. A flag bearer rode in front with the black of Kura flowing behind him. General Duroc came next in full battle uniform with a Kurakin bearskin hat and flowing black cape. Pitt wondered if the Horde’s leader ever wore anything but his military clothing.

  The horses shook the ground under Pitt’s feet. Duroc had brought plenty of men. Charles stood straight and smiled while the column approached.

  The Kurakin general dismounted and took off his riding hat and walked towards the pair. “Generals. Good morning.” His voice was low and rough and his smile barely showed his filed teeth through his beard. He towered over King Charles.

  Pitt raised his eyebrows at the lack of royal decorum in the address. He braced for Charles’s angry outburst in response.

  “General Duroc, how nice to see you,” Charles said instead. He stepped forward with an excited smile on his face and shook Duroc’s hand.

  “General Pitt, sir. Pleased to meet you.” Pitt shook the Kurakin’s hand as well. The man’s grip was iron.

  “A Brunian. Good to see your forces are combined.” Duroc turned and held out an arm for King Charles to enter the inn first.

  “Yes, under myself, of course.” Charles handed his hat to an aide and swept back into the inn and up to the map table. “What is the latest from your army, Duroc? Any remaining Erlonians to give us trouble?”

  Duroc took off his riding gloves and folded them neatly into his jacket pocket. His men filed in behind them and circled around the edges of the room while Duroc leaned over the map.

  “Well—”

  “We took Vendome with a morning attack. Cannon smoke joining with the mists rising off the fields.”

  Charles pointed down at the map and Pitt winced after realizing he was pointing to the wrong city. The king wasn’t even looking at the right region.

  Duroc let the king continue and didn’t show annoyance at being interrupted. Charles barely looked at the other two as he talked. He went through their march and the positions of the army and got very few of the details correct.

  Pitt looked up from the map and up to Duroc while the report was given. The Kurakin didn’t correct Charles’s mistakes, but Pitt could see that Duroc knew everything. There was no surprise on the Kurakin’s face and his eyes scanned the map layout calmly. He knew the positions of Charles’s men better than Charles did.

  Movement brought Pitt’s eyes to the door. More of the Kurakin soldiers entered the inn. They spread out and closed the gaps in the Kurakin encirclement of the room.

  The armed soldiers took their hats off but left their heavy coats on their shoulders. All had sabers and pistols hanging from their hips under the mammoth fur uniform.

  A chill washed up Pitt’s spine.

  Duroc’s patience for the Wahrian king finally broke. He cut the king off mid-sentence while Charles explained the finer points of the coastal campaign strategy.

  “This map is incorrect.”

  Pitt looked at Duroc and saw his eyes had changed. They were darker. More focused. Dangerous looking.

  The chill on Pitt’s spine came again. A dread joined it.

  The Kurakin leader approached the table. Charles stayed quiet. Pitt looked around the room at all the Kurakin surrounding the small group of Wahrian royal staff. He stood rooted to the spot with his mind racing. Duroc reached out over the map with a large hand.

  “My armies are here. May I?” Duroc didn’t wait for Charles to answer. He moved the main army marker north on the map. Farther north than even their current position in the inn. “There are also more troops here and here, but I assume we’re out of markers?”

  “Yes, sir,” a Wahrian staffer said. The voice sounded like a squeak next to Duroc’s.

  Pitt looked where the Kurakin general had indicated on the map. It was the western plain of Erlon. A big open space on the other side of the river full of cities that sat empty on the Wahrian map.

  “Your soldiers march fast.” Charles chuckled. He stepped up to the table and looked over everything. “You are formidable allies.”

  Pitt looked back to the center where their own army now sat surrounded by the Kurakin black markers Duroc had shifted north. He looked at Duroc. The Horde general met his eyes and Pitt felt the dread again. The Kurakin smiled and Pitt went cold at the sight of the filed teeth.

  The scene shifted and Pitt saw what was about to happen for the first time. He realized what the chill along his spine was warning him of.

  The Kurakin around the room opened their jackets and the metal of their pistols gleamed bright in their holsters. Charles’s staff were oblivious and unarmed. Charles was busy staring at the map with a stupid smile on his face.

  It couldn’t be. This wouldn’t happen. They were all part of the same Coalition.

  They were allies.

  But the Horde was different. General Duroc was different. Pitt looked at the man who’d defeated Emperor Lannes and knew exactly what was about to happen.

  Pitt stood frozen. The weight of his own pistol felt heavy on his hip.

  “You have a choice, Your Highness.” Duroc spoke slowly. He was now looking at King Charles. “My army outflanks yours along the river, we have the stronger position and the numbers.”

  “I beg pardon?” Charles’s dumb smile didn’t waver.

  “You will stand your men down and have them surrender to my forces. Or they will be slaughtered.” Duroc stood perfectly still.

  Charles’s face fell. “What?”

  Pitt saw the movement as if in slow motion. The Kurakin around the room drew their pistols in unison and leveled them at Pitt and Charles and the Wahrian staffers around the table. Pitt heard one Kurakin cock his weapon from directly behind his own head.

  “Duroc, what is this?” Charles’s face grew red. His confusion turned from anger to fear.

  “Erlon will be conquered by the Kurakin. This Continent is ours.” Duroc still hadn’t moved. “Your army can be a part of that, or it can be slaughtered here and now. That is your choice.”

  Charles didn’t have a response. Pitt watched his face turn almost purple.

  Duroc finally moved. The general drew a pistol from his side and cocked it. He held the barrel down and rested it on the table. It faced the king’s direction. “You have a choice, Your Highness. A choice for Wahring. Will her army die with her king? Or live to fight on?”

  Charles still didn’t respond. He stood rigid, but his eyes were going back and forth between the gun barrel on the table and the general holding it.

  The Kurakin leader waited only a second for the king before bringing the pistol up to point at the king’s chest. He seemed to shrug, as if he didn’t care if Charles answered one way or the other.

  “It’s up to you, Your Highness,” Duroc said.

  The full weight of the betrayal hit Pitt. His legs wanted to collapse. Fear pulsed through his entire body.

  It took all his will for Pitt to move his hand. He went for his pistol. He could shoot Duroc, he could cut off the Horde’s head. He could stop this betrayal.

  I
t was the only option he had.

  He gripped the handle of his gun and pulled it out. A rush of movement came behind him before he could complete the move.

  There was a thud and a pain in the back of Pitt’s head. Metal against his skull.

  Pitt’s world went black as he collapsed to the floor, his pistol clattering across the wood away from him.

  * * *

  Pitt felt his arms going numb already from the tightness of the rope that held them behind his back. He felt the terror of being strapped to a horse without being able to use his arms. He felt the cold wind whip by his face as the Kurakin made a frantic gallop back towards his camp.

  Pitt felt it all and understood none of it.

  Fear and disbelief outweighed everything.

  The Wahrian king was tied to another horse whose reins were held by a Kurakin soldier galloping next to him. Pitt had never seen a king look less regal.

  From what Pitt could tell, he’d awakened not long after being knocked out. He’d been carried to a horse behind the blubbering king and they’d both been thrown up into a saddle with their hands tied.

  The rest of the party the king had brought to the inn were left behind under armed guard and Duroc carried the king and Pitt off. The Horde army waited for their arrival only a few miles down the road.

  They cheered the return of their general and the great prize he carried tied to a horse.

  Pitt had never fought in a battle with Kurakin present. He’d barely ever seen anyone from the bearded race. But he now understood why they were called “The Horde” by northerners.

  Their soldiers lined the path into the tents of the camp with black mammoth fur coats and full beards hanging over their necks. Filed teeth gleamed in the sunlight as they threw jeers at the fallen Wahrian king and Brunian general.

  The taunts sounded like grunts and roars and laughter. These men were happy and expecting a show.

  But what kind of show was Duroc going to give them?

  The Kurakin leader continued his gallop even after entering the camp. The line of horses went straight to a large tent at the center and Pitt and Charles were pulled off their mounts and thrown inside after the general.

  It was Duroc’s command tent. The general went to a desk in the center of an open and clean-looking working space. A single lamp provided light.

  “The king can sit.”

  King Charles was pulled forward and pushed into a chair opposite Duroc at the desk. Pitt was held by the door. A Kurakin soldier had a tight grip on his shoulder.

  “This is an outrage.” The king finally found his voice, but the strength of his words was dampened by a crack that took his tone an octave higher.

  The soldiers in the tent chuckled and even Duroc smiled.

  “I have drafted orders for your army to stand down and surrender.” Duroc turned three different pages around to face the king’s seat while he spoke.

  “I said this is an outrage, untie me right now!” Charles’s volume increased and he struggled against the ropes that held his arms.

  Duroc nodded to a guard. “Untie him.”

  The soldier stepped forward and cut Charles’s bonds. Pitt’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Charles looked surprised his demand had worked as well. He flexed his hands and tried to stand but was roughly shoved back down by the soldier.

  “You will return me to my army at once.” The king’s voice cracked again.

  “Sign these orders and we will.” Duroc’s voice was level. He pointed to the papers in front of Charles. “Like I said back at the inn, you have a choice, Your Majesty. Save your men by signing the papers.”

  Pitt couldn’t see what the papers said. A pen was brought over and placed before the king. Charles looked at the soldiers around him and back to Duroc.

  “I’ll sign, but you must return us to my army.”

  Duroc shrugged and nodded his agreement.

  “And we’ll forget this whole indecent matter. From one leader to another.” Charles leaned forward and picked up the pen and looked at Duroc. The Kurakin general nodded again.

  Pitt couldn’t believe it. He wanted to yell out for the king to stop. But before the words could be formed, it was done.

  The king signed the first and went right on to the next two without a second thought. Charles didn’t even read what he was signing.

  It was done.

  The tent spun around Pitt’s head.

  “And now.” Duroc stood up from his chair and towered over Charles. “For the show I promised my men.”

  Duroc flicked his hand and his soldiers responded. They grabbed Charles roughly and tied his hands again. The king scream in protest but could do nothing to stop them.

  Pitt was yanked out of the tent and cheers rang out from the Kurakin camp at his appearance. The yells grew even louder when the king appeared.

  Pitt got a good look at Charles’s face now. It was still red with anger but was quickly becoming pale as fear set in for a man who was used to complete control in his life.

  Pitt was sure his own face showed the same fear.

  The soldiers hauled them through the camp. Kurakin soldiers on all sides jeered at them. One soldier threw a ball of mud and it splattered all over the king’s chest.

  The group turned a corner and Pitt got a first glance at their destination.

  A wooden gallows platform.

  Pitt had felt fear before. He’d been in enough battles to know the feeling with familiarity. But this was different.

  His current situation was hopeless. He was going to die next to a coward king.

  Pitt was stopped at the base and held in place. The Horde army pressed in around the gallows. Charles was hauled up the stairs. The king was kicking against his holders now. He protested with everything he had left and his red face turned pink from strain.

  Pitt looked around at the soldiers pressing around the platform. All bearded with dark eyes. Large soldiers with gleaming swords and axes at their belts and teeth filed to points.

  Except for one.

  One was unarmed and clean-shaven. He stood close by Pitt in the crowd and laughed with a glint in his eye. His long, smooth hair flowed back from his head and stuck out against the matted and tangled locks of the other Kurakin. A crazy smile showed off his pointed teeth.

  Duroc passed Pitt and stole his attention back to the gallows. The general followed the king’s path up the stairs at a normal pace. He reached the top and nodded to the soldiers to put the noose around the king’s neck.

  Duroc held up his hands and his army grew quiet immediately. Charles struggled against the rope at his throat.

  “We have a new war on our hands.” Duroc’s voice carried easily over the crowd. It was powerful and deep. “This man is not fit to be our ally.”

  The soldiers erupted in cheers of agreement and Pitt felt the ground underneath him shaking. Duroc let the noise die down before continuing.

  “Wahring. Brun. Erlon.” Duroc swept an arm to show the countryside surrounding the camp. “They only stand in our way. We will crush them.”

  The soldiers cheered again. Charles shook underneath the noose around his neck.

  “A new war begins today. One we will win.” Duroc pointed back to Charles and smiled. His teeth were white knives sticking out of his beard. “If you don’t believe me, watch what we do to the Wahrian king.”

  The lever was pulled. The platform trap door snapped open with a crack. Charles dropped and the rope tightened. The king’s red face turned purple. Cheers shook the ground once more.

  Pitt struggled against the ropes behind him and the soldier that held him. He didn’t know what he was struggling for.

  It was hopeless.

  It was all hopeless.

  He wanted to scream, but his throat was dry. The Wahrian dangled and jerked under the platform. Pitt felt like he himself was already still and hanging from the rope.

  Charles had slowed the Brunian and Wahrian armies down. He’d let Duroc take Plancenoit first. And now t
heir allies had turned against them and had executed the king in front of laughing Horde soldiers.

  Pitt wanted to fall to his knees but was held upright by his captors. He wanted to run away and find his countrymen and scream for them to flee and to hide.

  Charles kicked one last time and hung still. It was over. The Wahrian king was dead.

  The soldiers continued to cheer. Duroc walked off the stage and down the stairs and passed Pitt and the guards again.

  “General, what do we do with this one?” one of the soldiers asked.

  Duroc turned and looked at Pitt as if seeing him for the first time. He shrugged. “Do with him what you want.”

  A smile formed on the soldier’s face and Pitt was dragged away through the mud of the camp. His last glimpse of King Charles was his purple face growing darker as he hung over the Horde army’s celebration.

  Chapter 16

  An army’s strength is in the discipline of the brave.

  General Gerald Lannes, spoken to his officers before the Battle of Riom

  Year 1098 Post-Abandonment

  Pitt

  A cool mist hung over the Kurakin camp the next morning. The celebration had turned to focus and preparation for a march and now all was still after a night’s rest.

  Pitt was tied to a tree.

  He pulled against the ropes that held him but found no luck. He could barely move, let alone feel his arms.

  A Kurakin coughed from behind the tents in front of him. His gaolers barely stood watch over him. The rest of the camp stretched beyond. The top of the gallows on the far side poked up above the black tents and still held a single black figure.

  Flashes of King Charles’s death came to Pitt’s mind. He shuddered and wanted to vomit, but there was nothing in his stomach.

  The Horde army had celebrated after the hanging, but not for too long. Most of the camp had broken things down and marched off north. Pitt had no doubt where their destination was.

  They were going to attack Pitt’s men. His soldiers. His army.

  They were going to surprise their former allies, the same as they’d surprised King Charles. The central army of the Coalition would be shattered. The Brunians and the Wahrians and the rest of the Coalition would have the same fate.