A Whisper After Midnight (29 page)

Not standard Goblin tactics. Grugnak has never been this subtle
. Piper’s guard rose immediately. A quick glance back at the battle confirmed that most of the enemy was either dead or had pulled back into the night. He turned back to the soldier with new orders. “Find the ranking officer here and order him to dig in but not to expect another assault. I want every other soldier to displace and move to alternate positions to the east and west. He is to have a reserve prepared to move to any part of the camp in moments. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir!”

“Move! We don’t have much time,” Piper snapped and the soldier raced off.

The Wolfsreik camp was attacked three additional times that night. Goblins pushed en force but never managed to break the line at any point. Piper moved from engagement to engagement, offering encouragement and jumping in the line when the opportunity presented itself. He shouldn’t have. Rolnir might demote him if he ever learned his senior commander risked his life so carelessly.

In the end the Wolfsreik held. Whatever remained of the Goblin force had fled back to whatever hole they’d skulked out of, but the damage was done. The Wolfsreik was no longer safe. Rolnir had no choice but to either break up or move en masse and he needed to have it done by nightfall. No one doubted the enemy wouldn’t be back by the time the sun set. A sense of urgency spread through the army. Soldiers began packing what few possessions they had without orders in anticipation of the move. Sergeants conducted inspections and readied their squads and platoons for the next fight while low level commanders speculated what their next move was going to be.

“It seems our position is more urgent than we believed,” Piper told Rolnir after offering a haggard salute. He was exhausted, physically and mentally.

Soot stains on his face and armor, Rolnir wasn’t about to disagree. “Badron moved faster than I expected him to. We’ve lost the advantage.”

“Not necessarily. There’s no way he can cover us if we split the army.”

Rolnir scratched the stubble on his cheek. “I’d rather not. We’ll be too exposed, vulnerable to more of these Goblin-style assaults.”

“I still think we need to draw them into the open and hammer them with a cavalry charge. There’s no way they’d be able to withstand it.”

“Piper, this is a war of attrition. We can’t be too free with our lives. The enemy has the option of being careless, suggesting reinforcements are already coming in from the east. I need to meet with King Aurec. The only way to win is through a fully coordinated campaign. Aurec is adapt at guerilla warfare. A tactic we sorely lack.”

Piper took the compliment with a measure of anger. His vanguard made first contact with Aurec’s forces and suffered severe casualties. It was a stark lesson in warfare and he took it personally. Despite Rolnir’s insistence otherwise, Piper felt shamed by failure.

“I’m sure there’s a better way,” Piper replied, but without heart.

Rolnir held up his hand. “I know how you feel but we’re being pushed against the wall. We need Aurec’s soldiers and his style of fighting if we’re going to have enough soldiers left to retake Delranan.”

“Perhaps I should sit this meeting out,” Piper suggested.

“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be,” Rolnir reinforced with a much sterner voice. “I need you sharp. Badron’s removed our debate by seizing initiative. Let’s take the war back to him and end this now.”

Piper gradually relented and nodded. “Fine, but don’t expect me to be overjoyed by it. I’ll extend my hand to Aurec because you command it. Now, General, what are your orders?”

Kings and Generals

The coronation celebration was weeks old and largely forgotten. Men and women quickly stopped their revelry and returned to the hard prospect of fighting a guerilla war. King Aurec paced Grunmarrow like a trapped mountain lion. He wanted to fight. To attack and end the Delrananian rule of Rogscroft. The idea of taking the war back across the mountains never entered his mind. So many lives had been lost in the few short months of the campaign here he’d never be able to raise enough support to invade their neighbors across the Murdes Mountains. Not that he minded. The combination of his father’s death and the destruction of his cities left him with a hollow feeling. He slowly came to realize just how tired he was. Wars were meant for others. Some greater, some lesser.

Grunmarrow was alive again. Scouts had returned with news of the recent Goblin attack on the Wolfsreik’s main camp. Badron’s kingdom was in turmoil. His alliance was shattered. Men and Goblins turned on each other. The people of Rogscroft rejoiced at the unexpected news. They saw it as the beginning of the end. Aurec didn’t have the heart to dissuade their notions. He knew it for what it really was: a prelude to something far worse.

Aurec’s council urged immediate movements while the enemy was in disarray. While there was some merit to that line of thinking, he couldn’t commit the bulk of his forces without more concrete information. There was more at stake than simply taking advantage of a rare glimpse of sunlight.

Thus far Vajna’s combined operations with the Wolfsreik and Pell Darga in the northern foothills of the Murdes Mountains proved mutually beneficial but wouldn’t last forever. At the end of the day the Wolfsreik was still the enemy and needed to be removed from Rogscroft. The situation became more convoluted daily, enough that Aurec suffered from severe headaches at night. Worse, he missed Maleela more as the days sped by.

Reluctantly, he turned from the sanctity of his tent and headed towards the council tent. Meeting with his senior commanders was quite possibly the last thing he wanted or needed right now. Drawing a deep breath, Aurec returned the guard’s salute and entered. Those assembled rose in respect to their king and leader. Aurec waved them down and took his seat at the head of the table.

Pitchers of water and wine sat between platters of cheese, day-old bread, and a meat he couldn’t identify. One wall of the tent had been transformed into map boards, with icons for every unit in the field. Fires burned at both ends of the tent, not enough to completely warm them but enough to kill the slight chill clinging to each Man. Aurec idly wondered where his people managed to find a crimson tent but knew better than to ask. Sometimes the answer wasn’t what you needed to hear.

“Who’s going to begin?”

Venten cleared his throat and rose. “Sire, as I’m sure you are aware, we’ve received reports of the Goblin assault south of Rogscroft proper.”

“I believe I’ve heard a passing word or two. What do we do about it?”

“General Rolnir has disbanded the bulk of his army and sent them into smaller task forces to confuse the Goblins. While I can’t confirm it, I strongly suspect Badron has declared open war against the Wolfsreik.”

“I disagree, sire,” Paneolus countered. “The Wolfsreik has been the symbol of Delrananian power for centuries. It is ridiculous to believe he’d turn against them now in favor of the Goblins.”

“These are trying times, Counselor,” Aurec said respectfully. “We already have some of Badron’s soldiers fighting alongside us in the north. It isn’t implausible to think Badron’s gone to extreme measures to exact his revenge for disobedience.”

“But against the entire army? He’d lose ten thousand soldiers.”

Sergeant Thorsson added, “Highly trained and well disciplined. The Wolfsreik lives and breathes for war. They executed their campaign to conquer our lands ruthlessly but with honor. My opinion, sire, is that the Wolfsreik realized Badron was off his rocker and decided it went against their moral code. I agree with Venten.”

Paneolus’s cheeks reddened. Instead of barking a retort he merely reached for a chunk of bread. He was a lifelong politician and knew when the odds weren’t in his favor. Best to let the discussion play out rather than risk evoking the new king’s ire. There’d be a time soon enough when he could meet with Aurec one on one. Perhaps then Paneolus might be able to persuade the boy king to reconsider.

“This could just be a ruse. Men and Goblins don’t mix. Badron could be using this diversion to cull his opponents,” Aurec suggested. “We can’t discount anything at this point.”

Paneolus concealed his grin.

“But Vajna’s operations…” Venten began.

“Are useful, but not necessarily in our best interests. Badron is more cunning than any of you seem willing to give him credit for. Tell me, what do you think, Mahn? You’ve been strangely silent this morning.”

The older scout rubbed his chin while trying to figure out the proper way to say what he felt. He was a soldier, not a statesman. His life was an endless series of journeys deep into the wild and potentially hazardous situations. Only he never expected to find himself embroiled in the dangerous world of politics. When he spoke it was uncertain.

“Sire, I only know what I saw. We fought the Wolfsreik for months. There is no love lost between our two armies. Everything changed when the Goblins arrived. I believe that General Rolnir may have indeed gone against Badron’s wishes. He is an honorable man. We should listen to what he has to say.”

Aurec broke into a grin. “Good. He’s on his way here with a small delegation.”

“What?”

“Sire! You’ll put us all in jeopardy,” Paneolus spat, bits of bread and meat flying from his mouth.

“We’re already in jeopardy, my friend. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re at war,” Aurec said in a measured voice. “Our enemies continue to gain strength while we wither away here. We are weak, gentlemen.”

“That will change once winter ends,” Venten said. “We’ll be able to go on the offensive and take advantage of the discourse between the Wolfsreik and Goblins. Badron can be beaten, sire. We must bide our time though.”

“Time is a luxury we don’t have, which is why I invited Rolnir here. It is my belief that everything has changed. Yes, we have the ability to win but only through joining forces with the Wolfsreik. The worst that can happen is we rid Rogscroft of the Goblin threat.”

Aurec rose and went to the maps. “We have less than two thousand swords here at Grunmarrow. Another three thousand at Stormeir. Even with both forces combined we’re undermanned by more than ten thousand. There are small units spread across Rogscroft, from the Murder Mountains to the northern coast, but we have no effective way to coordinate efforts. The Pell Darga guard all of the mountain passes but will be hard pressed to prevent convoys and wagon trains from going back and forth once the snows melt. Our efforts to defeat the enemy thus far have worked but only on a small scale.”

He paused to look each in the eye. “We currently hold less than a quarter of our own territory and are being pushed further away despite our best efforts. We are losing this war. Show me another way to reverse our fortunes and I’m all ears but until then we have no choice but to meet with Rolnir and try to salvage something of our kingdom.”

“We simply cannot enter into an agreement with a foreign army without contingencies,” Paneolus argued. “We’d be exposed, vulnerable to whatever they might set their minds to once the main problem is dealt with. You all know I am no soldier, but I know how rulers think and behave. This Rolnir is no different from any other politician.”

“I don’t see how,” Venten said.

“He’s looking after his own neck. A dead man can’t do much,” the former minister of state replied flatly.

“Regardless,” Aurec interrupted. “I expect him within the hour. Have a tent prepared and food ready to be brought. I’m sure they will be hungry after riding through most of the night. Also detail some hands to clean out a stable for their mounts. I don’t want them getting mixed in with ours.” The very real threat of poison entered his mind. Above all else, Rolnir was a professional soldier who had been a fervent enemy until a few weeks ago. Every caution needed to be taken until Aurec was sure of the Wolfsreik’s sincerity.

*****

“Sire, thank you for accepting my request to meet,” Rolnir said with a proper bow.

Aurec bid him rise. “General Rolnir, it is an honor to meet you at last. We have been enemies for far too long.”

“Regretfully, but this was never our war of choice,” Rolnir replied. The subtle edge of tartness laced his tone, enough to draw glares from several of Aurec’s council.

“Perhaps that is a discussion best left untouched for now,” Aurec replied. “I trust your trip here was unremarkable?”

“For the most part, though we were forced to take a few detours thanks to Goblin patrols. The vermin are everywhere these days.”

“So I’ve come to understand. May I present to you my council? Paneolus, former minister of state. A harsh Man out of necessity. He’s the only professional politician among us. This is Venten. A one-time general turned tutor now my closest friend and mentor. Mahn used to be chief of scouts and now serves as liaison to the Pell Darga. Lastly, Sergeant Thorsson. He took a nasty wound defending the gates of Rogscroft and is my personal standard bearer. Regretfully Cuul Ol, the chief of the Pell Darga clans, could not be with us today.”

Rolnir bowed and saluted each accordingly before turning to his abbreviated staff. “This is Commander Piper Joach. He is my right hand and executive officer. I trust him implicitly. Colonel Ulaf, master of engineers, and Colonel Mentyl, my chief surgeon. A Man who has been unusually busy as of late. Colonel Herger, my infantry commander, is away to the north with your General Vajna. My understanding is our combined campaign is progressing nicely, though I would like it a little faster.”