The Dreaddrac Onslaught (Book 4) (43 page)

Amenibus then called together his remaining officers. He sent a cohort to slip through the reeds and vegetation along the Akkin to fire flaming arrows at the boats crossing the river. The earlier group was to float down the flaming reed bundles and affix them to the river bottom. He sent an archer to fire an arrow into Feldrik with a message. It was to the commanding general signaling Amenibus was there, what his relief column forces were, and the general plan to relieve the siege. The man was warned not to let the message fall into enemy hands but to swallow the message if he feared being captured. Finally, Amenibus directed the supply train to encampment and awaited all the elements to get to their positions.

*

Dreaddrac’s king knew Prince Pindradese to be a coward. When he’d left to begin his attack on Feldrik, the king had sent a wizard with a cohort of orcs through the swamp to the reed beds on the Heggolstockin’s northern border with Dreaddrac east of Feldrik. The stealthy band came across the swamp and slid into Heggolstockin’s reed beds undetected. When the wizard noted the movements of the Heggolstockin troops gathering reeds for the fire bundles, the wizard enveloped his orcs in invisibility and had them slip through the tracks of the soldiers and kill them silently before they discovered the orcs. The ruse was successful, so the soldiers never assembled the fire bundles. Amenibus never learned the enemy had thwarted the key to his attack plan.

*

Prince Pindradese anticipated an attack on the flotilla crossing the river from Heggolstockin’s river bank. He’d sent forces early to hide in the vegetation and wait for the enemy to arrive. Seeing the reinforcement column on the heights above the Feldrik plain, Pindradese doubled his troops boarding boats, crossing the river. Meanwhile, the soldiers already landed and surrounding Feldrik posted guards to prevent the enemy from burning the craft on shore. They’d learned from Bodrin’s previous attack when on the adventure with Saxthor. Ogres ordered the troops to form their defensive lines if reinforcements arrived to relieve Feldrik. They were not to allow the troops to pass through to the fortress. So now the armies were aligning for the coming battle.

*

Amenibus grew impatient waiting for the fire bundles. He sent a scout to find out about the delay. Another scout went to search the riverbank for the archers that were supposed to be shooting flaming arrows at the now doubled flotilla crossing the river with more and more enemy troops. Neither scout came back. The young lord grew more anxious with each boat that landed on the Heggolstockin riverbank. He assumed the fire bundles were on the way but feared the growing troop numbers landing to reinforce the siege.

“We must attack now, General,” Amenibus told his senior commander. “More troops cross the Akkin as we speak. Soon we won’t be able to repel them. Look there at the lines of orcs growing hour by hour between us and Feldrik.”

“My Lord,” the senior commander said, his horse stamping about with the agitated men’s tones, “we must stop the enemy crossing the river before we attack. Without those fire bundles, the enemy replenishment numbers will only increase and tip the battle in their favor.”

“The burning reeds will come, but we must attack now.” Amenibus stood straight in his saddle, facing down the commander. The older man slumped and shook his head. “That’s an order, General.”

The commander stared his brilliant brown eyes straight into the young lord’s face but said nothing. A moment of silence and the general nodded. He turned his horse back north to his legion.

“Send messengers to the other commanders. We attack when I shoot a flaming arrow into the enemy line,” Amenibus ordered. He allowed time for the old commander to reach his troops, then nodded for the awaiting archer to fire the flaming signal. Amenibus drew his sword, brandishing it about as he looked all around him to be sure his troops were in place.

“Charge!” Amenibus ordered. With his sword waving in the air above the galloping gray mount, Amenibus led his troops down the slopes to engage the enemy.

The battle raged all afternoon. The castilyernov’s defenders could offer little support as the orcs were beyond arrow range from the fortress. Lord Amenibus had ordered the general in charge not to open the gates to the fortress and counter attack the enemy from behind. At first, the young lord’s brave charge inspired his troops. They drove the enemy back toward the river. As critical time passed, more and more enemy landed to reinforce the retreating orcs. The fire bundles never came. Enemy boats kept landing fresh troops from Prertsten. The exhausted Heggolstockin defenders began to give ground. Eventually, the enemy broke through the southern legion’s left flank, forming up behind Lord Amenibus’ troops. Amenibus fought bravely amid an ever growing number of attacking orcs and diminishing number of comrades.

*

His senior commander saw the enemy swarming around Amenibus. Breaking off his attack with the eastern force, the officer ordered his men to race south and rescue their young leader. They arrived too late. Before they got there, Lord Amenibus fell to the enemy. The commander himself broke through the enemy and saved Amenibus’s body from desecration. He then broke off the attack and withdrew back up the slope to reform his men and reevaluate the situation. That night, the general sat up with Lord Amenibus’ body, lying in state in his tent.

“Send a messenger post haste to Duke Anton. No wait, let me write the message,” the commander said to his aide. He rubbed his hand over his balding head and pulled on his most commanding mustache. After some minutes of thought, he rose and wrote out the news of Lord Amenibus’s death and details of his valor. The messenger left first to give the duke time to absorb the news before confronting the stark reality of his only son’s remains. He had the body washed and prepared and then ordered it sent back to Heggolstockin, the capital. “This will kill the duchess, I fear.”

* * *

King Saxthor paced the private reception chamber high in the Hoyahof’s keep. Bodrin had stridden in past one of General Sekkarian’s aides, standing by in case the king should summon the general. Bodrin put his helmet on a table and, being permitted to sit in the king’s presence, flopped down in a comfortable chair out of Saxthor’s pacing pattern. The aide shuffled at the sight, but straightened up again, standing by the door when the guards didn’t react.

“What must I do now?” Saxthor asked, looking up at Bodrin, who selected an apple, bit into it, and chewed without response. Annoyed, Saxthor resumed pacing the floor. Several more trips back and forth and no solutions came to him.

“What good are you, Bodrin? Tell me what to do? I’m stumped; I don’t know what steps to take next. Do I send troops north to support King Grekenbach, potentially weakening the defenses here? Do I send troops to Botahar to support and defend Dagmar in her struggle with General Tarquak? If Tarquak destroys what’s left of Sengenwhan resistance, the way will be open to invade Neuyokkasin. If I hold troops back, the northern kingdoms may fall, and thus we shall have no allies to defend Neuyokkasin. Dreaddrac may consolidate their forces and take their time attacking us. I’m at a loss as to what to do. It looks like we’ll lose one ally or the other in any case. Our prospects seem grimmer with each report.”

Bodrin took the last bite out of the apple. He tossed the core into a trash bin. Saxthor stared down at him, awaiting a reply. Still saying nothing, Bodrin wiped his fingers on a cloth napkin and looked up.

“Well, you are the king, Saxthor. The final decisions are yours to make. The whole of the kingdom, perhaps the whole of the peninsula, awaits your decisions as the last great power to confront Dreaddrac. The people trust your judgment, as do I, whatever you decide. We will follow your orders to the letter and hope you are correct.”

“Some help you are. I have a chatra that runs around in circles, nobles that run to me at the slightest difficulty, generals with military questions they should answer based on their many more years of experience. They have more experience in the field. I need someone’s advice I can rely on.”

Bodrin stood and put his hands on the king’s shoulders. The general’s aide bolted to restrain Bodrin from touching the king’s person, but Saxthor held up his hand and stopped the aide.

“He is permitted,” Saxthor said. “Remain outside the door with the guards. We have something private to discuss.” Confused, the aide left the room but waited close by within sight beyond the door.

“Saxthor,” Bodrin said. “You have never told me exactly what happened in that cave on the mountain back on Tixos, but when you came out of that cave, it was evident something had changed. You are chosen for something greater than being a bureaucrat.” He lifted Saxthor’s hand, and they both looked at the dragon ring. Then Bodrin released the king and retrieved his helmet. “Whatever you decide will be the right decision, and we will all follow your orders.” He bowed slowly, almost reverently, to Saxthor, his face solemn, and left the king’s presence.

“You’ve not been dismissed,” the aide said to Bodrin at the door as he was leaving.

“He does as he likes,” Saxthor said to the aide, and he resumed pacing. “I thought everyone knew that,” he mumbled.

Saxthor looked up toward the door. Why didn’t he update me on Botahar’s status, he wondered. While still pacing, trying to decide on what to do next, a messenger arrived from King Grekenbach. Shown into the king’s presence at once as Saxthor had instructed, the noble bowed.

“What news of Graushdem?” Saxthor asked. “How are King Grekenbach and Queen Nonee?”

“The king and queen are in excellent health, Your Majesty,” the noble said.

“How is it the king sends a senior noble of the court as messenger? There must be something significant to report.”

“Your Majesty, King Grekenbach is under great stress. As you know, Hador has been undermined and neutralized by a Dreaddrac army. That army, under the ogre general, Vylvex, has consolidated his forces on the plain below Hador.”

“Yes, I know all this, what’s the news?” Saxthor interrupted impatiently. The count bowed.

“The orc army has started to march south on Graushdemheimer. Reports from the refugees pouring into the capital say there is some new beast with the army that’s not been seen before. One report says the orcs refer to them as whingtangs.”

“Moving south on Graushdemheimer, we’d hoped Vylvex would consolidate his army and remain there until he could reopen his supply lines. Whingtangs you say?”

“Whingtangs, Your Majesty, massive beasts, plated in armor with long slashing claws and huge tusks. We don’t know what they are or what part they play in Dreaddrac’s war machine.”

Saxthor moved to a food and drink laden table, sweeping his arm over the selection, noting Bodrin’s dent in it.

“Will you take refreshments?” Saxthor said, hoping the count would indulge, giving him time to think through the significance of this news. The lord poured a goblet of drink, sipping slowly as Saxthor stroked his chin, pacing the floor again.

“And Heggolstockin, what of Heggolstockin?” Saxthor asked, turning back to the messenger. The count set the goblet down on the tray and went to Saxthor.

“Duke Anton led a force against the incursion into western Heggolstockin. King Grekenbach hopes the attack isn’t significant. It may well be to distract and divide Graushdem’s forces. We’ve not received further word from the duke.”

“Prince Pindradese wouldn’t attack Heggolstockin without direction from Dreaddrac. He’s a weakling prince. His principality is too impoverished to initiate war without the backing of Dreaddrac. That attack across the Akkin will not be a petty raid.” Saxthor started pacing again, his mind on the northern war’s significance. The count stepped back out of Saxthor’s way.

Saxthor looked again to the noble, studying the man’s face. “King Grekenbach wouldn’t have sent a noble with these reports, what else have you to impart?”

The count looked at the others at the door within hearing distance, then back at Saxthor.

“Yes, of course,” Saxthor acknowledged. “You may all retire, but remain nearby in case I call for you.” The aides left the room. The guards closed the door to the chamber, leaving Saxthor alone with the Graushdem count.

“King Grekenbach fears for the kingdom, Majesty. The attacks are too widespread to be minor. The king fears Dreaddrac is attempting to knock Graushdem out of the war before we can organize significant resistance. He’s throwing massive resources into the attack. In view of your alliance and the queen being your majesty’s sister, the king requests that you assume occupancy of Tossledorn Fortress on the southern border with Neuyokkasin. It would be a temporary measure so the garrison may be withdrawn to defend Graushdemheimer.”

“Tossledorn!”

“Yes, Majesty, temporarily, of course.”

“We could move our garrison from Talok Tower perhaps, but that would leave that strategic defense open for seizure by the enemy again should a contingent sneak through the Talok Mountains undetected. We’d have the enemy threatening our supply lines. Perhaps it’s a risk we might have to take. Let us think on this. You may retire and rest from your journey, but remain with us yet a while. We will give you an answer soon.”

The count bowed and backed to the door, opening it.

“Guard,” Saxthor said. The guard immediately entered the room and, standing to attention, tapped his spear on the stone floor. “Summon my adjutant, and send the general’s aide for Sekkarian.”

When Saxthor’s aide entered, Saxthor instructed him to take the emissary to suitable accommodations within the Hoyahof and see to his needs.