Alutar: The Great Demon (48 page)

“I am sorry,” frowned Barry, “but I couldn’t budge the ladder by myself.”

The king looked at Barry and smiled. “You never have to be sorry for doing your best,” he said in a fatherly tone. “Besides, I am sure the general wanted to get involved.”

The general’s face turned red, and he let go of the pole. General Gregor turned his attention to the battlefield, and the king scanned the wall to see how the defenders were holding up.

“Their charge is faltering,” the general announced. “If they don’t retreat soon, they will waste a lot of men.”

Moments later, distant horns announced the retreat. The Alceans soldiers continued to shoot at the retreating enemy, and King Arik frowned.

“Order a halt to the fighting,” the king instructed the general.

“We have a chance to whittle down their numbers,” retorted the general. “There is nothing wrong with killing them while they retreat.”

“I know,” replied the king, “but I want their men to make it back to camp.”

The general nodded and issued the orders to two runners. One runner left in each direction and the fighting soon halted. With the cessation of fighting came loud cheers as the Alceans celebrated their victory. King Arik smiled broadly.

“Why did you want to let their men go?” asked General Gregor.

“Only about a fifth of their men actually got into the fighting,” explained the king. “The other four fifths might be able to ignore the defeat, but not when the remnants of the attackers are within their camp talking about how deadly it was out on the battlefield.”

“Aye,” smiled the general, “and deadly it was. I am impressed with the fighting prowess of our lads. They performed well today.”

“Indeed they did,” the king smiled at Barry. “The enemy suffered a great defeat today. The question is, when will they attack again?”

The general shrugged. “It is early in the day yet,” he mused, “but I would not bet on another attack this day. The Federation soldiers were too slow in their charge, and that cost them dearly. The enemy generals must be aware that they have pushed their men too far and too fast. They might be able to forego siege engines or sleep, but they cannot forego both as they tried to do today.”

“The special archers attacking their archers was also a smart move,” commented the king. “That allowed most of our defenders to concentrate on the climbers. That was a wise order.”

“It certainly was,” agreed the general, “but I cannot take credit for it. I gave no such order. Perhaps Colonel Borowski did.”

“The special archers thought of it themselves,” said Barry. “They were disappointed that there would be no siege engines to target, so they all decided to aim at the farther targets and leave the closer stuff for the rest of us.”

“Well, it worked out rather well,” replied King Arik. “I shall have to congratulate them.”

* * * *

“That was the weakest charge I have ever seen,” ranted General Askor. “Less than twenty percent of the first wave even reached the wall.”

“And only a fraction of them reached the top of the wall,” added General Eylor. “You are demanding too much of the men, Askor. They cannot function with welts all over their bodies and no sleep.”

“You think I should set up a permanent camp here until their welts have subsided?” snarled General Askor. “We are running out of time, Eylor. We have to attack now.”

“You will serve no purpose in attacking again today,” declared General Eylor. “If the men cannot sleep at night, let them sleep during the day today. If the dragon attacks, at least we will see it coming and can defend ourselves. The men need rest.”

“I know that the Alceans have reinforcements coming,” argued General Askor. “I can feel it in my bones.”

“Maybe they do,” shrugged General Eylor, “but we are better off letting the Alceans get reinforcements than wasting our men on another charge before they are rested. We can throw our entire armies at those walls today, and we will not breech them. That is a fact, and you know it. The men are incapable of fighting.”

General Askor glared at General Eylor, but the commander of the 38
^th
Corps stood firm. General Askor eventually sighed and nodded.

“You are right, Eylor,” general Askor reluctantly agreed, “but it burns me to have made good time getting here and now have to sit and wait for the Alceans to reinforce themselves. We risk defeat by allowing them to grow stronger.”

“We may already be facing defeat,” General Eylor said softly. “Did you notice any Red Swords or Rangers upon those walls today?”

General Askor’s brow creased deeply. “No,” he answered. “Why do you ask?”

“Because if they are not on the walls,” replied General Eylor, “Where are they?”

“Alcea is a large country,” mused General Askor. “They could be hundreds of leagues away. What are you getting at?”

“According to Kyrga,” replied General Eylor, “the Alcean regulars should be easy to beat. He warned us that we should concentrate our might on the Red Swords and Rangers, yet it was the Alcean regulars who broke our charge today.”

“You just got through telling me that our charge failed because our men needed sleep,” scowled General Askor. “Now you are going to tell me that the greatness of the Alcean regulars did it? Make up your mind.”

“I think any army could have broken our charge today,” clarified General Eylor, “but the Alceans did so rather cleverly. Did you notice the losses in the second wave? Those men were supposed to keep the heads of the Alceans down, but it didn’t work that way. They have special archers who only shot at the second wave. Granted, there were not a lot of them, but the number was sufficient to complete the task. All I am trying to say is that Kyrga might have underestimated the proficiency of the Alcean regulars.”

“What does all of this have to do with the Red Swords and Rangers?” asked General Askor.

“If the regulars can stall our approach,” explained General Eylor, “and the Red Swords come up behind us, we will be in serious trouble. I think we need to talk about a possible change in strategy to accommodate such a scenario.”

“Rubbish,” scowled General Askor. “I will not build a strategy based on ghosts. If you are truly worried about such a chance happening, authorize one of your squads to patrol our rear. When they have proof of someone coming up behind us, we will talk about changing our strategy. In the meantime, I want our engineers to begin building siege engines immediately. We will camouflage and hide them during the night incase the Alceans try to attack them again.”

* * * *

Corporal Paulis shook Sergeant Carter, and the sergeant opened his eyes.

“The Alceans are letting our men return to the camp,” the corporal said excitedly. “Look. Not a single arrow is being fired.”

The sergeant sat up and stared at the battlefield. Scores of Federation soldiers were walking away from the wall. His eyebrow rose in surprise.

“Why?” he asked.

“I don’t know why, but we should take advantage of our good luck before they change their minds.”

“So we can lead another charge,” scowled the sergeant. “If there was food here, I could be tempted to just wait for the next charge.”

“Are you crazy?” retorted the corporal. “If we go back, we might be in the next charge, but if we stay here it is a certainty. I am going back to camp.”

“All right,” the sergeant conceded gruffly. “All right. We might as well walk together.”

The two soldiers rose and started walking towards the Federation camp. The corporal kept looking back over his shoulder to see if the Alceans would shoot at them, but the sergeant did not bother. He was busy surveying the dead on the battlefield and shaking his head in anguish. They were almost half way to the poles when the sergeant saw a wounded man. The archer was part of the second wave, and he had an arrow imbedded in his thigh. The sergeant knelt down and snapped the arrow shaft. The man gritted his teeth and cried from the pain, but the sergeant ignored his whimpering. He picked the archer up and draped him over his shoulder.

“Look for other wounded, Paulis,” ordered the sergeant. “The Alceans might let us return to camp, but they will not be so forgiving if we try to come back out here.”

“I think your archer died,” the corporal said.

“Nah,” replied the sergeant. “He probably just fainted. I can feel him breathing. There’s another one over there, Paulis. Carry him back to camp.”

The corporal hurried to respond, and soon there were four of them returning to camp. When they reached the perimeter, their captain was waiting for them.

“Those men aren’t in your squad,” the captain noted as his eyes flicked over the battlefield. “Where are the rest of your men?”

“Paulis and me are the only ones to survive,” replied the sergeant. “We picked up these archers on the way home. Where do you want them?”

“Just lay them down,” answered the captain. “The healers have carts running along the front. They will pick them up soon.”

The sergeant and the corporal lowered their burdens to the ground. Sergeant Carter rose and looked the captain in the eye.

“My men weren’t fit to fight today,” he scowled. “Their lives were wasted out there. Only three of them even made it onto the ladder before it was pushed away from the wall. What am I to do for a squad now?”

The captain sighed and nodded. He knew that the general had sent men into the fight that were not battle ready, but his job was to follow orders, not second guess them.

“I think you have seen your share of fighting,” the captain replied with a sympathetic tone. “General Eylor needs a squad to ride rear patrol. I will assign you to that task. Gather your squad from the remnants of today’s battle.”

The sergeant nodded and started to leave, but the captain was not done yet.

“Try to pick those who suffered the most today despite giving their best out there,” the captain said softly. “And I don’t mean the wounded,” he clarified. “Choose men whose squads were almost totally destroyed. It is not much of a reward, but it is the best I can offer.”

“Thanks, Captain,” replied the sergeant.

* * * *

Prince Harold entered the suite at the Bluff House Inn in Farmin. He nodded to Garth who had opened the door for him, but he hesitated when he saw the rest of the people in the room. There were five men and a woman in the room who he had never seen before. Garth sensed his hesitation and led him across the room.

“This is Kalina, my wife,” introduced Garth. “These five men are Alcean Rangers.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Kalina,” Prince Harold said in a friendly tone before turning to face the five Rangers. “Why are there Alcean Rangers in Farmin?”

“They are here because I asked them to come,” answered Garth. “I would like to leave them as your personal bodyguards, if you can figure out a way to do that without anyone knowing that they are Alcean.”

“I have access to the entire 11
^th
Corps,” frowned the prince. “I am sure that I can choose guards from there should I need any.”

“You do need protection,” countered Garth. “Trust me on this. Your father’s life is already threatened. It would not take much for someone in the Federation to decide that you are also a threat. And if that happens, depending on Federation soldiers for your protection might just be the wrong approach. Your stepbrothers died at the hand of a Federation soldier, and so did Queen Samir.”

Prince Harold frowned at the truth in Garth’s words. He glanced once more at the Alcean Rangers.

“These men are highly trained,” Garth declared, “and they will protect you with their lives. I cannot force you to use them, but I will leave them in Farmin in any event. I must have your word that you will not reveal them as Alceans.”

“You are leaving Farmin?” asked the prince.

“I said that I would see you safely to Farmin,” Garth nodded. “That task is now complete. You are now welcome in the Royal Palace, and you are the Crown Prince of Ertak. All in all, I think everything went well. Besides, I have to get Prince Samuel back home before someone decides to steal his throne.”

“I understand,” Prince Harold said with disappointment. “I do not know if I will avail myself of your Rangers, but I will vow to keep their nationality secret. You didn’t really answer why they are here in Farmin.”

Garth sighed and smiled. He was beginning to like the prince’s pluck. “Some of the thieves of Farmin wish to reform once Ertak is a free country again. The Rangers are training them in the ways of warriors. Should you have time for lessons, I would advise you to take advantage of their training. They are among the best fighters in the world.”

Prince Harold nodded knowingly. “So,” he said with a thin smile, “should I tend to go the way of my father and the other rulers of the Federation, there will be an underground army here in Farmin to overthrow me.”

“Whether you become the kind of king that serves your people, or just serves yourself,” warned Garth, “is entirely in your hands. The Rangers are training some of your people to become useful members of society again. If that thought troubles you, then I have greatly misjudged you.”

“You have not misjudged me, Garth,” smiled the prince. “If anything, you have reinforced my belief that Ertak can become a great nation like Alcea. I know that Prince Samuel has a similar belief regarding Spino. Perhaps together we can cure this small part of the world of the ignorance and hatred that has ruled for far too long.”

“I wish you well in that endeavor, my friend,” smiled Garth. “Kalina and I will leave you with Bart and his Rangers. We have to pick up Samuel and head out.”

“So you are leaving now?” asked the prince. “Will you come back someday?”

“I will,” promised Garth. “It may even be sooner than you think, but there are other pressing needs on my schedule right now. Try to stay on your father’s good side, even as you start to mold your own vision of Ertak.”

Garth and Kalina left the suite and headed for the Seaside Inn. When they arrived, they found four Knights of Alcea packed and ready to go.

“I guess this is where we say goodbye,” Natia said as they entered the room.

“You and Tedi are off to Giza?” asked Garth.