The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion (49 page)

The man with the beaded hair standing on the wagon had long ago been identified as their commander.  Jo-Dal watched now as he argued with several of his deputies.  The mood in the pirate camp was growing foul.  Many among the town guard appeared disheartened at this latest loss on the battlefield.  Jo-Dal had seen this before.  While triumph can be intoxicating, loss could be soul-sucking.  He watched the manner in which the rank and file behaved.  They were sullen, questioning the orders of their supervisors.  The four Olvioni archers that had manned the roof for most of the day told him that they had watched as some of the enemy melted away from the barricades and up into the hills to the west.  Jo-Dal concluded that these men were abandoning the fight.

The Aspellian Sword of the King knew that things were most likely at a tipping point.  If he was reading the battlefield correctly some things could be expected to happen in short order.  The enemy was at a point where they would either surrender or mount a full attack.  Both possibilities presented their own set of problems.  If they surrendered they would soon see how badly they outnumbered their captors.  That knowledge, after they had rested and regained their courage, would probably lead to more bloodshed.

If the pirates decided to risk everything on a full scale attack the losses on both sides would be devastating.  Of the two options Jo-Dal preferred the former.

The Commander of the Olvioni forces looked to the harbor.  The entire fleet was now safely within it, but the sea wall and piers were patrolled by a thousand enemy fighters preventing them from making landfall.  The expected two-prong attack that Fauwler, and the Olvionis had planned was being defeated.  Jo-Dal knew that he did not have the numbers he needed to assault the pirate barricades.  He was still considering his options when a large hand gripped his shoulder.  He turned to see Tag-Gar standing there.

“How goes the battle?” asked the big man.

Jo-Dal smiled.  “Better than I expected in some ways, worse in others.  I fear we are in for a real bloodletting if we cannot open up the piers and sea wall for Fauwler’s fleet to come ashore and reinforce us.”

Taggart looked over the roof wall to take in the entire scene laid out before him. The piers were arranged like twelve fingers on a distorted hand.  Access to all of them was gained through a wide street made of packed dirt.  There were approximately one hundred of the pirates guarding the entrance to that street.  Beyond them the remaining nine hundred enemy were distributed evenly on all of the piers.  Any ship trying to offload their people would immediately be swarmed and overtaken.

“The piers are well protected.”

“Too much so.  I can’t afford the warriors that would be needed to clear them.”  The commander opened his scope again and scanned the area.  His brow furrowed. “Wait.”  He pointed.  “Look at the three piers to the west.”

Taggart did as he was instructed.  The three piers were isolated from the others in that they could only be reached by transiting a wooden bridge which was located halfway down the length of the dirt street leading to the piers.  Taggart saw that the three outliers were more lightly protected than the others.  There were only about a hundred pirates there.

Jo-Dal lowered his scope.  “They are evidently convinced that the street leading to the piers is so well-protected that no one could possibly reach those three.”  He put his hand to his chin and thought.  “I could possibly commit a hundred warriors to an attempt to penetrate the entrance to the piers.  Then, if they are successful, it is conceivable that they could rush the defenders on those three outlying piers and briefly open them up for the fleet.  We would only need one ship to tie up and offload their fighters.  Each ship is supposed to be carrying a hundred crewmen.  That narrow bridge could be defended until enough of our allies are offloaded and reinforce our assault team.”

Taggart took another look at the layout of the piers.  The bridge would act as a natural barrier and, once taken, could be defended for a short time with only about twenty warriors.  That would leave eighty to engage the one hundred pirates that were already guarding the piers.  “It might work.”

Jo-Dal nodded.  “The crucial part would be to attack that wide street leading to the piers like a spear thrust.  They should not worry about taking and holding it, only breaking through it and reaching the bridge to the three western piers.  Then, if we are extraordinarily fortunate, they can hold the bridge long enough for the rest of the team to clear out the pirates on those piers.”

Taggart nodded.  “Of course, the success of your plan then relies on the captains of those ships to realize what we are trying to do and bring their ships in quickly.”  He sighed.  “It’s a lot to count on.”

Jo-Dal turned back to look at the piers one last time.  Then he observed the pirates at the barricades.  “We really have no choice.  If the pirates attack the loss of life on both sides will be horrific and we would probably lose.  That would make the loss of all of our lives meaningless.  The hundred warriors that I’m risking may just save our plan and the lives of their brothers and sisters.”  He set his jaw, his decision was made.  “It is our only play at this point.”

Taggart leaned against the low wall and folded his arms.  “Well, you likened the assault on the street to a spear thrust.  Every spear needs a point.  Let me be that point.”

The commander looked him squarely in the eye.  “I think that is an excellent idea.” Another thought hit him.  “What happened with your wife and the rest of the women?”

Taggart smiled broadly.  “They are all well and protected by four of our finest warriors.  I will give you their location before I leave.”

“That is wonderful news, Legend.  Please tell my Sub-Commanders to pass that information to the rest of the warriors.  They’ll want to hear it, it is the reason we are here.”

After the decision was made and Taggart was selected to lead it, Jo-Dal gave orders for his lieutenants to solicit volunteers for the assault on the piers.  Per a request from Taggart, twenty of them would be archers. 

In the days before the Great War, archers were not held in high esteem as warriors.  There had been a deeply held bias against them because traditionally they did not engage an enemy “shield-to-shield”.  Taggart had challenged that bias and demonstrated the true value of a warrior who could stand back from the battlefield and score multiple kills against the enemy from afar.  One of Taggart’s proudest achievements was the elevation of the status of archers in the eyes of their fellow warriors.

Now, as he stood in front of his assault force he sorely missed the comfort of his newly found team of Toria, Tay, Geraar and Lyyl.  He had grown confident having them at his back, but he was equally confident to now have them guarding the woman he loved.

Taggart carried his legendary sword and mace.  Both of the weapons were larger than any warrior on the planet of Olvion could wield.  He had obtained them from a mysterious cavern which contained the skeletal remains of the first Legend.  Being naked and defenseless he had overcome his revulsion at robbing the dead and had clothed and armed himself.  He was also now wearing the black leather vest with silver metal stars and forearm and shin guards.  As an afterthought, he included the powerful bow that old Geord had crafted for him.  He had left it unstrung and asked another warrior to wedge it down the top of his vest between that garment and his tunic underneath.  Once it was in place Taggart took several practice swings both with his mace and sword.  The bow remained stationary and it did not hamper his movements.  He thought he would likely not have any use for it but decided to leave nothing to chance. 

Taggart had formed up his task force in a particular fashion.  He had the archers lined up in two rows of ten, surrounded by swordsmen.  He didn’t know if his hastily formed tactics would make a difference, but they needed any advantage they could create.  He turned to look at his people, they all seemed ready, if a little frightened.  So was he.

With a nod to Jo-Dal on his rooftop perch, Taggart led his people through the row of structures which shielded them from being seen by the enemy.  He held up a hand to stop them.  He then drew his mace from his belt. 

Taggart had long ago discovered that he was more of a blunt instrument than a surgical blade.  While he was good with a sword, the combination of the lethal and heavy spiked head of the mace along with his strength and size was usually more effective in most combat situations.

Up on the roof, Jo-Dal signaled his archers and watched as they all drew and held their nocked arrows.  He looked over the roof edge to Taggart and nodded.

A barrage of arrows were released and arced out over the distance separating the two armies.  Though the pirates were too far away for precise aiming, their volley was just able to reach the nearest enemy barricades.  When the pirates saw the approaching rain of death they all scattered, each seeking protection.

At that exact moment Taggart took off sprinting to the western side of the waterfront, heading for the street which gave access to the piers.

There was no reaction at first, but Lampte and his men saw the group and started yelling instructions, urging his forces to cut them off.  The pirates started to form up, but were again sent scurrying for cover as a second arrow volley struck.

Taggart and his people had taken full advantage of the distraction created by the archers.  They made it almost halfway to the entrance to the piers before the pirates who were stationed there realized their intentions.  They ran forward from the farther reaches of the piers to form a skirmish line, but they only had time to gather forty or more men for the effort.  The others had been caught at the far end of the street and were taking longer to get there.  The pirates who had reached the entrance saw a huge man running at them at a remarkable speed.  He had gold-colored hair streaming out behind him, and his eyes had a strange look to them as if they were an impossible color.  The image was frightening, especially when one took in the giant spiked mace that he held over his head.  A few of them took a step or two backward, content with having their friends catch the brunt of the charge.

Taggart was twenty yards from the line of guarding pirates when he pulled up short and stepped to the side.  His actions were matched by the other warriors at his back.  All but the archers.  The bowmen (and women) fanned out quickly and formed two rows of ten, one standing, the other kneeling.

Before the pirates could adequately respond to the new threat, the standing archers fired their shafts.  Twenty yards of distance was child’s play for the well trained warriors and ten pirates were pierced by their darts.  No sooner had the first volley struck than the kneeling line shot and nine more of the enemy fell.  On the third volley the defending pirates realized that they were sitting ducks (or squatting gigs as the Olvionis called it) and began to scatter.  They left another eight men dead or screaming in pain.  The fourth flight of arrows dropped another five, their accuracy being reduced by the moving of the targets.

Now the way was open and Taggart shouted a command.  The team reformed and surged forward again.  There were a few brave individuals who tried to engage them, but these were quickly struck down.  The remaining sixty or so guards who had been assigned to the pier entrance were still heading their way, but, without the reinforcements of the other pirates out on the piers, they were now outmanned by the Olvionis.  The smart ones feigned being too slow to reach them before they got to the bridge.  The stupid ones died.

Racing over the bridge, Taggart smashed into a group of six defenders.  His size and body weight served to propel two of them backward to land on their backsides.  A swipe of the mace ruined the face of one who was still standing.  The backhand caved in the ribs of another.  Then the warriors following him swiftly finished off the others.

They reached the other side and were met by three dozen pirates.  Taggart screamed like a madman and grabbed the neck of the first man he came to.  He lifted the unfortunate soul off of his feet and brought the mace down upon his head.  A pirate next to him tried to bury a short spear into his abdomen, but the weapon was deflected by another warrior who then cleaved the man from shoulder to sternum.

As the warriors drove the defenders backward, the archers, supported by ten swordsmen, broke off to find concealing positions from which to defend the bridge.  Already they could see pirates swarming in their direction from the other piers to the east.

The knot of pirate defenders at the bridge were driven back quickly.  They had originally numbered less than forty and the warriors had greater numbers and greater skills. 

Taggart kicked out with the flat of his boot and caught a fleeing pirate in the back.  The man shot forward more quickly than he had planned and wound up plunging into the water off of the side of the bridge.  Another pirate threw a stone the size of a grapefruit and hit Taggart in the cheek.  Blood flowed and was ignored.  He was too far away to reach the man with his weapon so he drew it back and launched it.  The lethal iron and wood weapon spun twice in the air before catching the pirate in the side of the head.  The spikes attached themselves to his cranium and held fast as he dropped lifeless to the ground.

One of the last surviving pirates still near the bridge saw Taggart without a weapon and gambled on being able to kill him with a sword thrust.  Taggart’s long arms grabbed the hand that held the weapon and twisted sharply.  The pirate screamed in pain.  He was then lifted over the big man’s head and slammed down across his knee.  He was not moving when Taggart tossed him aside to retrieve his mace.