The Dreaddrac Onslaught (Book 4) (47 page)

“Good start,” Bodrin’s aide said. “You hurt?”

“Yes and no. That was close, but not a man lost,” Bodrin added.

The aide slapped Bodrin on the back. Bodrin moved back to sit down in the boat, wiped the blood from his slight leg cut, and watched as the barn burst into a fireball, then collapsed in smoky flames. The whole mass began settling as coals before an enemy column could race to put out the fire. The billowing black and white smoke swirls blew over the orcs attacking the city, causing chaos among their numbers.

* * *

“The supplies on fire?” asked Tarquak’s goblin general in charge of the planned attack during the daylight hours when Tarquak was ‘unavailable’ in his box. The goblin wheeled around in his saddle as the flames coming from the barn caught an ogre’s attention. He pointed it out to the commander. “Those fools, they’ve let the enemy burn our supplies.”

“Them guards is on the way back, marching in formation as if nothing’s happening,” another aide said. “Look there along the road from the farm.”

“Take two cohorts and slaughter every one of them,” the goblin muttered, his gaze fixed on the marching guards with narrowed, glazed eyes. “Bring back the carcasses. They’re to be roasted for the camp’s meat tonight. Tarquak’s gonna be furious.”

“Look there, the legions is breaking formation,” an aide said. “They done caught sight of the burning barn.”

“Get those troops back in formation, you fools!” the goblin said. “We’ve a battle to get underway. No more delays.”

“But, General, without them supplies we can’t…” an ogre commander said but was stopped short when the goblin’s sword flew out and lopped off the ogre’s head. It flew over two others and rolled to a stop by a rock. The body slumped and slid off its saber-wolf, landing with a thud amid the dead silence.

The beast growled, kicked back, and turned to feast on the corpse. The first bone’s crunch broke the trance. The other commanders slammed their heels into their mounts. They raced down the slope to the legions and out of the general’s reach. Only the commander’s two remaining aides stayed behind. They backed just out of reach of the arcing sword.

“We’ll begin the battle now,” the goblin general said, snarling as he looked at each aide. “When those idiots get the troops back in formation, raise the signal flags to begin.”

The goblin then rode along behind the troops as if daring a single orc to look back or move out of place. Order reluctantly returned to the troops. The general called for the battering ram to move up behind the first legion standing before the gate to Botahar.

“General,” called an aide, “there on the river.” The ogre pointed just upriver from Botahar. The goblin looked to see the boats approaching Botahar’s wharf.

“That’ll be the raiding party that fired the supplies,” the goblin said, thinking out loud. “When we take the city, we’ll torture the inhabitants until we learn the identity of those men. We’ll turn any left alive over to the soldiers for revenge.” The general looked over his legions, reassured they were back in formation.

“The troops are ready, General,” an aide said.

“I can see that,” the goblin snapped. “Raise the flags to signal the attack.”

The signal flags flew up, and the orcs began their assault on Botahar. The general watched from higher up on the slopes. He saw the defenders light fires in strategically placed pots along the walls. As the orcs got within range, flaming arrows shot out from the battlements and landed just behind the first legion, lighting a trench of flames, separating the first legion from those behind it. The first legion’s orcs saw the flaming arrows and looked back to see the wall of flames behind them. Most continued to rush forward, but Tarquak could see between the flames and black smoke that many of the orcs panicked and turned to retreat. Those that rushed forward met with a shower of arrows decimating their numbers.

Some of the orcs in the second legion had rushed ahead into the hidden ditch and ran back, enveloped in flames. The site unnerved those behind them. Flames flared up in front of others, who bolted to avoid the fire. Chaos erupted among the troops. With the forces divided and the first legion cut off, the Botahar defenders doubled their efforts. Seeing they were without support or backup, the orcs were reluctant to attempt going over the walls on their ladders. They began to stumble into each other in their indecision. The defenders dispatched the few that did raise their ladders, attempting to go over the walls. Most of the first legion disappeared.

“Sound retreat,” the goblin general ordered through grinding teeth. “Hang those orcs in the first legion that bolted, if any made it back through the fire. Leave them hanging in the second legion’s camp. The flames are dying down now in that trench. Make sure none of the first legion’s cowardly troops survives. Not a single orc that comes back is to be spared. Tarquak will be furious when he rises and finds we’ve lost a legion. I’ll have to be cleverer tomorrow. It seems this new queen or her generals are better prepared than we anticipated.”

It was late afternoon by that time, and the dappled sun cast shadows over the retreating orcs as they arrived back at their camps, dragging their shields and swords. The goblin general watched them as, returning, they noted the orc carcasses roasting on the spits in each legion’s center. A cook turning the spit at each carcass announced to those arriving they were going to be eating the guards that lost the supplies.

The goblin looked up and grinned at the dozen orc heads dangling from poles around his tent on the slopes over the legions. “They won’t be retreating tomorrow.”

When General Tarquak rose and discovered the day’s disasters, the goblin general’s head joined those of the orcs around his tent. The goblin’s carcass was roasted as well.

* * *

Bodrin’s men disembarked on the wharf at Botahar, where Queen Dagmar greeted them with open arms. She shook the hand of each raider as a warrior queen.

“Fantastic success!” Dagmar said. “Looks like you’ve burned their whole supply depot. I hope your losses were minimal.”

“We lost only one, Your Majesty, to an arrow as we came down river,” Bodrin replied. His men, their heads hanging, ambled past, heading into the city toward the walls, carrying their dead comrade.

“I’m sorry for your loss. Excellent campaign, better than we could have hoped for. It will save so many other lives. But come, the attack on the city is about to begin, Bodrin.”

*

From the governor’s palace, Dagmar could see the city, its defensive walls, and the orc legion moving forward on the city. Her generals wouldn’t allow her on the outer battlements. It was too dangerous. Bodrin joined his men on the walls with bows and arrows ready to fire the trench drenched in oil and covered in straw. When the orcs moved forward, Dagmar leered over the balcony, straining to see what was happening. She couldn’t see anything below the ramparts from her vantage point. Her nerves tensed as she strained to see. She felt her heart beating faster as the last of the first legion’s orcs crossed over the trench. She held her breath. Then flaming arrows lit along the wall, and a long arc shot across the sky, landing in the trench. The whole length burst into flames. She could just see the panic among the orcs at the back of the legion as they scrambled to get away from the flames billowing up behind them. She could see the men on the battlements shooting showers of arrows down on the attackers. One or two ladder tops slapped on the walls only to be thrown back. Finally, the shooting slowed. She saw only a few orcs retreating over the dying trench flames to their comrades, waiting for them on the other side with swords drawn. She watched in horror as the orcs lopped off the heads of the first legion survivors retreating from the attack. Then the whole of Tarquak’s army marched back up the slopes.

“Today is ours,” she said to an aide. “Tomorrow is another matter.”

* * *

Tarquak stamped around in his tent amid the aides and commanders that stood well out of his way. Another goblin general was promoted, or rather commanded, to lead the attack the next day. The goblin stood at attention with the others standing back. Tarquak noted none dared to put his hand on his sword, suggesting a threat. He kicked a field table across the tent; the papers and maps flew in a whirl.

“There are only two legions left. Tomorrow’s attack must not fail if every orc and ogre dies in it,” Tarquak said. “Now tell me every detail of the battle plan. I’m sure you have another plan. You’re in charge tomorrow; what do you have in mind?”

The goblin shuffled forward, looking left and right at the others, then stumbled but caught himself before falling.

Tarquak chuckled.

“We’ll attack the main gate again tomorrow,” the goblin said. He stood erect, stiff as a board. He hesitated, but Tarquak said nothing, so the goblin stepped one foot closer and continued. “I’ll move the battering ram up. The trench fire burned out today, so there won’t be a repeat of that. We’ll overwhelm them.”

“Shows courage, or stupidity, not sure which. Remember you only have two legions left.”

“Yes, General. If we are unable to take the walls, we’ll send a force down the Nhy and take the harbor. The city will be harder to defend from the river.”

“Where will you get boats for this attack?”

“I sent scouts at dusk to search up river for boats. They found half a dozen that could carry enough men to fire the city warehouses and leave the defenders without provisions, too.”

“Good idea, I knew I picked you to lead the attack for some reason.” Tarquak poured the goblin something to drink, then something for his orc shell. “Take these dogs to your tent and finalize the details. Report back here when you have the final plan, long before dawn when I must retire.”

*

The goblin concluded his attack plan and got Tarquak’s approval. He would throw everyone at the walls at once except for the raiders sent during the night to the boats up river. The raiders would embark just after the attack commenced on the city, while the defenders’ full attention was on the walls. The harbor would most likely to be left unguarded at that point. If the raiders could fire the warehouses, it would create panic in the city, even among the men on the wall, and force the Botaharians to divide their forces to secure both fronts.

Tarquak pulled down the lid to his coffin just before dawn, settling into the dusty darkness, confident this plan should work. It has to work, he thought. We’ve not enough soldiers to take the city if it fails. Failure will bring the king down on me, his rage unrestrained.

* * *

“And you left boats upriver?” Queen Dagmar asked Bodrin, handing him a goblet to toast the day’s success. “Clever idea.” She motioned for Bodrin to sit with her. They settled into chairs at the map table. Though the queen wore armor during the battle times, she was dressed in a long flowing gown with full elfin sleeves and wore a matching long house coat delicately embroidered with silver thread that glistened in the moonlight coming from the balcony. It set off her long radiant black hair swept up into a cone and held in place by silver netting. A single golden elfin brooch on her coat and the golden girdle that closed the coat about her waist beamed in the flickering light from the fireplace. Her emerald green eyes flashed at the excitement of the attack plan.

“Tarquak’s usual tactical plan is to throw everything at the frontal assault. However, if any of his commanders examined the supply ruins today and traced our retreat to the river, he should have found the boats. Even though the orcs are mindless, the goblins are clever, I’m told. The idea is simple so they should ‘hatch’ the idea of a river attack on the harbor, dividing our forces. It will take pressure off the front wall in any event. If we’re ready for them, it won’t take many of our troops away from the front wall to destroy the raiders clustered in the boats. The boats left were decaying. We can destroy those and drown the orcs before they reach the harbor. Orcs don’t swim well at all, especially not in their armor.” He chuckled.

“And the boats weren’t placed too obviously?”

“Scattered, and two were placed far enough away as not to appear left by us if the discoverer doesn’t look too carefully.”

The queen’s senior general, also at the table, cleared his throat, asking for permission to speak.

“What troubles you, General?” Dagmar asked.

“What must we do about the ramming tower? We’ve backfilled the road into the city with rubble so they won’t be able to break down the gate, but they could come over the tower and attack the gate.”

“Yes, that’s a puzzle.” Dagmar motioned for her attendant to refill the goblets, then dismissed the servant.

“What would you suggest, General?” Dagmar noted the general fidgeting when Bodrin was explaining his plan for the river attack. He’s jealous of Bodrin’s attention, probably thinks it’s not good that a Neuyokkasinian should lead so much of the defensive actions, she thought.

“I spoke with the wizard this afternoon, Majesty. We think it best to fire the ramming tower as soon as it’s in range, before orcs climb it and attack at the wall’s crest.”

“Yes, but it’s covered in shields to repel arrows,” Dagmar said.

The general’s eyes twinkled above a confident grin. He sat up, puffing out his chest. “I think the wizard and I have a solution for that.”

Dagmar looked at the general, who glanced at Bodrin like a gambler with a winning hand. The glances went around the table, but the general didn’t offer an explanation. After some silence, Dagmar gathered the solution was a surprise.