Parno's Destiny: The Black Sheep of Soulan: Book Two (6 page)

“The timing is the key,” he seconded. “We must be on our way out before the Nor generals can retaliate. We’re taking a large part of our available forces into battle. We can’t afford to have any of them cut off and destroyed in detail.”

“The buglers will be important today,” Parno agreed. “Anything else?”

“If the men sense a rout, they’ll be hard to stop,” Karls opined again. “Discipline is the key. I think you made that pretty clear yesterday, however. You have to trust the commanders to know and do their jobs now.”

“I don’t think they’ll disappoint you, sir,” Enri offered. “All of them want this to be successful, but they are as aware as you are of the force disparity. This attack can’t be allowed to get out of control. Whatever damage we might do in an all-out attack will be countered by heavy losses of our own. Your plan is sound and your orders are clear.”

Parno nodded, saying nothing else. He wished Darvo were here with him. As soon as the thought came to him, Cho Feng joined the group at the fire wearing his armor and carrying both swords. He looked as serene and fresh as ever.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” he said calmly.

“Morning, Master Feng,” Parno and the others replied in unison. Parno looked at Springs.

“Why don’t you have a plate for him?” he asked.

“He’s already eaten,” Sprigs replied without a trace of smugness. Parno looked at Feng, who nodded.

“How did you know that?” Parno demanded.

“It’s my job to know, sir,” Sprigs answered simply. Parno shook his head at that and went back to his own unfinished breakfast. He wasn’t hungry, or at least he didn’t want to eat, but it would be a long time before he got the chance again today.

Sprigs was more than just an aide. He had been selected by Darvo, and trained by Cho, to be Parno’s bodyguard. Parno was unaware of this even now though he did know that Sprigs had received more than the usual training at the hands of Cho Feng. Sprigs made sure that Parno went nowhere without him. Even if he had to disobey orders to do so.

“Well, I guess it’s that time,” Parno sighed, setting his plate aside. He’d managed to get most of the food down. As if they had heard him speak, Sergeant Berry and his men walked into the firelight, leading their own horses as well as those of Parno and his staff.

“Now that’s good timing,” Karls said softly and Feng chuckled in the darkness.

“Let’s mount up,” Parno ordered. He still wasn’t feeling the humor, but fought the urge to snap at his friends. There was no point in it. He hoped their confidence was well placed.

Once mounted, the small detail set out for where the bulk of the attack force was already waiting. In order to get into place and still achieve surprise, the attacking divisions had been forced to go over a mile distant from the western most Nor positions before going into line. The risk of even one awake and aware sentry spotting or hearing them was too great.

As they rode, more men took up positions around them. True to his word, Karls would have the Black Sheep riding as escorts for his General. Without orders being necessary, the Prince’s Own broke into four companies. One fore, one aft, one to either flank. Parno was surrounded by his men. He shook his head at the fuss being made but said nothing. It would be pointless in any case.

The slightest slip of light was starting to show in the east when Parno made his way to the center of the line. Each division commander was there, waiting.

“Gentlemen,” Parno nodded. “Are we ready?”

“We are, milord,” all three assured him.

“Very well. Let’s be about it then.” It was a simple order. All that was required. The three men moved silently back to their own commands. Parno waited impatiently for the signals to pass. Finally, a runner approached Enri Willard.

“All in readiness, sir,” the man reported.

“Fire the signal,” Enri ordered the archer sitting next to him. The man nodded and nocked an already burning arrow. Bending his bow back, he aimed for a point far overhead and released it.

Within seconds similar arrows rose into the sky and the line of horsemen began to move forward.

To battle.

*****

“Did you see that?”

Sergeant Joseph Ritter, Norland Army, looked up from his spot on the ground at the private.

“See what, Jenks?” he demanded. Jenks was always trying to make something out of nothing, Ritter groused to himself. There was nothing going on out here. So far as Ritter was concerned, that was something to be thankful for.

“Looked like. . .well, I don’t know, really,” Jenks replied, scratching his head. “Hey, there’s another one!” he pointed suddenly. Ritter looked but saw nothing.

“You’ve been out here too long,” Ritter told him grouchily. “There’s nothing out there but fog!”

“I’m telling you I could see a light of some kind,” Jenks insisted. “Like. . .like a flaming arrow. Yeah, just like that!” Jenks seized upon the idea.

“Yeah, shot from where?” Ritter demanded, now on his feet. Their relief should be here soon anyway, and he’d be glad to get rid of Jenks.

“Somewhere over there,” Jenks pointed to the west. Ritter shook his head, sighing.

“Jenks, there ain’t nothing over there but nothing!” he almost snarled. “The southerners are that way!” he pointed south-east. “We’re outside their lines here by more than a mile, idiot.”

Before Jenks could reply, both men felt a tremble run underneath them. Both moved slightly. This was quake country and this whole area was prone to large earthquakes with little or no warning.

But this was no earthquake. The tremor kept going, rumbling louder by the second. Through the noise Ritter heard something else. The whinny of a horse.

From the west.

Ritter had just enough time to realize that Jenks wasn’t an idiot after all before a Soulan lancer ran him through. Jenks lasted another second before joining him on the ground.

The Soulan Army was coming to call.

*****

“Bugler, sound advance, canter!” Parno ordered. The young man nodded, licked his lips nervously and lifted his horn. The tones of the bugle lifted over the noise of thousands of horses, picked up by other bugles along the entire line and echoed until the entire front was prepared. Training dictated that the line would wait for a count of fifteen from the bugle call's end, and then. . . .

The line broke into a canter almost as one. The Lancers among them lowered their weapons, prepared to take down the first enemy they encountered, while swordsmen drew their own weapons and prepared for battle. The reserves began passing the light from man to man, firing their torches for the day’s work.

Behind them all Parno watched in grim silence as his plan unfolded. So far, so good. He looked to Enri and nodded.

“Bugler, Gallop!” the older Willard ordered. Again the clear notes of the horn carried into the air, to be picked up and passed along by others. Seconds later the line increased its speed once more. The transition wasn’t as smooth this time with gaps appearing in the line, but sergeants were quick to curse their men back into line.

It was a nearly solid wave of horsemen that hit the unprepared Nor right just at sun-up.

*****

General Alfred Raymond had been awake for a half hour when the sun began to make its presence known over his camp. Commanding the 22
nd
Infantry Division of the Norland First Imperial Field Army, Raymond was holding the extreme right of line for the entire army. It was a boring and thankless job and his men hadn’t so much as
seen
a Southron, let alone
engaged
one, since their arrival.

Raymond shared the opinion of many of the general officers in the Imperial army that the Soulan Army had been overrated for years and presented no serious threat to their forces. For this reason, he had not ordered his men entrenched, had erected no fortifications, and in general had ignored any kind of serious security provisions for his camp. His men were not exactly raw recruits but they were under trained and Raymond had been drilling them hard while his unit was in line unopposed by enemy troops. The Soulan line was at least three miles distant to the east and there were several other divisions between his and the enemy.

Raymond was eating his breakfast when he saw a man run past his tent, heading east. Another followed and then two more. Frowning, Raymond motioned for his aide to see what was happening. The young Captain, appointed for his family ties rather than his skills as a soldier, stepped to the open doorway of the wall tent and then outside beneath the fly over the field desks.

Raymond was looking right at him when an arrow pierced the young officer’s eye. Without a sound the younger man collapsed to the ground, dead before his body settled. Raymond froze, cup half way to his mouth for a drink of coffee. He’d never seen a man killed in combat before.

Nor would he again after today.

*****

Parno looked at the destruction around him as his group followed the first waves of Soulan cavalry through the Nor encampment. Dead Nor littered the ground all around them. Smoke from dozens of fires clouded the area around them though not to the point that visibility was a problem.

“All reports are that the Nor were caught completely by surprise, milord,” Enri Willard reported, having been taking those reports from runners. “Our front lines are into the second camp area already. Our casualties so far are very light.”

“Good,” Parno nodded, and some of the tension that kept his stomach in knots relaxed ever so slightly. “Continue to press the attack as planned.”

“We are, milord,” Willard assured him. Parno glanced at Cho Feng.

“Your thoughts?” he asked simply. The Oriental sword master looked at him.

“Your men are performing very well,”  he said. “Keep to your original plan, for it is sound. You must preserve your own force while doing as much damage as possible.”

Parno nodded in agreement. That had been his plan but it was comforting to get the same suggestion from someone more experienced.

“You may want to consider having your northern most units reduce their front and ensure they cannot be cut off from the main force,” Cho added.

“Already done, Master Feng,” Enri reported as he rode near. “The 2
nd
has one brigade front with the second holding along their left. The third is in support, able to assist either force as needed.”

“Excellent,” Parno nodded. “Maintain the pressure as long as we can up to our original line. Are the ambulances seeing to our dead and injured?” Parno had ordered a limited number of horse drawn ambulances to follow the attack, supported by a brigade of mounted infantry. Their mission was to remove as many wounded as possible from the battlefield. It was risky, but Parno was counting on the force of the attack to prevent any organized attack on the medical train, and the escort to deal with any isolated pockets of enemy by-passed by the main assault.

“They are, milord,” Enri nodded. Parno nodded, saying nothing else. There wasn't much for him to do at this point and he resisted the urge to either micromanage or ride to the front. That was not his place anymore. His subordinates knew their jobs and would do them without any elbow jogging from him. It was a difficult transition, but one he knew he must make.

Reports continued to come in from all over the front. By all accounts, the battle was going well so far.

*****

Lt. General Gerald Wilson was having his own breakfast when a pasty faced aide entered his quarters. Wilson looked up, frowning at both the interruption and the ill kept look of the runner.

“What is it?” he almost barked and the man flinched visibly.

“With respect, sir, but. . .the Soulanies are attacking our right!”

“What? Ridiculous!” Wilson stood, leaving his meal unfinished. “A raid of some sort?”

“We're receiving reports of a full scale attack, General!” the young Captain stammered. “Large numbers of Soulan horsemen are hitting the right flank. The 22
nd
Infantry has been reported as overrun and routed from their camps and General Raymond is missing! General Hartley of the 29
th
Infantry reports that he is heavily engaged and that his men are being forced back steadily by the assault. There's also heavy smoke visible to the west in the vicinity of our lines.”

For a very brief instant Wilson felt a tendril of fear running up his spine. This was the very thing he feared most though he never voiced that fear aloud. History had shown that the Soulan Army had a knack for flanking attacks and pincer warfare that Norland had never been able to withstand. He shook himself mentally.

This was what all their preparation was for, he reminded himself. Their men were trained to deal with this. He didn't know why the flank divisions were having so much difficulty, but he had cavalry of his own. Good cavalry.

“Send a runner to General Stone at once with orders for him to get his men mounted and prepared for battle. He is to report to me at once. GO!” The younger man ran from the tent as if he were pursued by a demon.

Wilson quickly donned his own sword and pulled on his boots. Already his personal servant was leading his horse forward. Wilson met the man at the entrance of the house he had made his quarters in and took the reins. His escort waited behind, already mounted. Wilson yelled for runners and dispatched several men in different directions with orders to get him information.