Crying Havoc fk-4 Page 27

“Here we go again, Specter,” said the King, patting the horse’s brawny neck.

  “You men, gather what you can and head for the river,” he told the servants. “Take what we need, nothing else.”

  “Yes, sire,” they replied.

  King Felix rode to the crest of the hill, where the scouts were positioned. The burning trebuchets were lighting up the field behind them and making it even more difficult to see across the dark expanse toward the invading army.

  “Any sign of the enemy?” King Felix called.

  “No, sire,” said one of the scouts.

  The King rode his massive horse along the line and ordered his scouts to keep their shields raised. He expected a volley of arrows at any moment and he strained his eyes in search of any sign of movement.

  A group of Felix’s commanders came galloping up the hill and reined in their horses beside the King.

  “You are too close to the front, my lord,” said one of the knights, a tall man with thick blond curls hanging from his battle helm. His name was Corlis of Osis City.

  They were all noblemen who served the King as generals and commanders. Generals were tacticians, one serving each legion of the King’s Army. Commanders usually oversaw smaller groups and actively led their troops in battle. They all wore armor of some type and all carried lances with their legion’s identifying emblem.

  “Never mind where I am, sir,” Felix said. “What is the state of our army?”

  “We have all the troops except for the scouts heading across the river,” General Sals said. He was the third son of Duke Shupor and commanded the Fox Legion.

  “Our bridges are holding, sire,” said General Yinnis. “The trebuchets are a total loss but we still have ships that can ferry you back to Orrock.”

  “I expected to be pushed back at some point,” King Felix said. “Offendorl is no fool. At least we held them up these last three days. I want the scouts ready to fall back on my command, and let’s get another century ready to cover their retreat. They can then commence a fighting retreat. I also want the bridges ready to burn. I doubt Offendorl would be so foolish as to send his troops onto our bridges, but it’s worth a try.”

  “I volunteer the Heavy Horse to cover the scouts’ retreat,” Corlis said in a superior tone.

  “No, if something happens to our bridges I want the cavalry on our side of the Tillamook,” King Felix said. “What legion are these men from?” he said, indicating the scouts.

  “They are Eagles,” said General Tolis.

  “Fine,” said King Felix, “get another century of your Eagles up here to cover their withdrawal, Tolis. General Yinnis, see to the bridges. I’ll cross over and oversee the retreat back to Orrock myself.”

  General Yinnis and General Tolis both saluted and then galloped away.

  “Sire,” said General Sals. “If the dragon attacks again, you’ll be exposed. We can’t protect you from fire.”

  “No, you can’t, but I’ll still cross over and lead our troops back. They need to see this as a strategic maneuver, not a military defeat.”

  “The Orrock Heavy Horse will protect you, my liege,” said Corlis.

  Felix bit back the angry retort that almost jumped out of his lips. The last thing he wanted was to take his anger out on a capable commander. They would need everyone at their best if they were going to face the dragon. Felix didn’t take it as a good sign that the beast had shown up and attacked his army. He needed Zollin, but what if the boy had been killed by the dragon? They were lost against Offendorl and his army without a wizard of their own. Even so, those fears couldn’t play a part in how he made decisions now, or in how he treated his men.

  “No, that isn’t necessary,” Felix said. “The Heavy Horse should pull back to Orrock with the rest of the army. The light cavalry can guard our retreat, and the Royal Guard will accompany me at all times. Gentlemen, make no mistake: we are at war. So far we’ve done little to check the enemy’s progress into our kingdom. But we will stop them at Orrock, one way or another.”

  Just then a familiar whistling sound was heard, and General Sals screamed to the troops around him.

  “Arrows!” he shouted, raising his shield to cover King Felix.

  Most of the arrows flew past them, but some found their marks. The scouts had been ready with their shields held above their heads to protect them from the falling projectiles. They dropped to a squatting position so that the shields covered most of their bodies. A few scouts were hit with arrows, but they were mostly superficial wounds in their legs or feet.

  Corlis raised his own shield in an effort to protect the King, but his horse was hit with an arrow and it reared suddenly, throwing the young commander from the saddle and charging away, neighing in pain.

  King Felix waited for the arrows to fall, which took only a moment. The projectiles sounded like demonic hailstones, but once that volley was over the King and General Sals kicked their horses into action, each riding in a different direction down the line of scouts who were spread out thirty paces apart. Both riders shouted orders for the soldiers to pull back and join their respective leader.

  The scouts didn’t need to be told twice; they sprinted down the hill in the direction of either the King or General Sals. When the telltale whistle of a second volley was heard, the men dropped to their knees and raised their shields. King Felix raised his own shield, but had to trust the chain mail to protect his thighs and legs. Several arrows hit him, two on his shield and one on his foot, punching through the stirrup and into his boot, gouging through the flesh below his ankle bone. The pain was spectacular, and King Felix cried out, but he managed to keep from falling off his horse.

  Despite the danger several of the scouts ran to their king. One was killed when an arrow tore through his neck. Several more arrows hit the King’s horse, but the heavy plate armor protected it from harm.

  “Are you hurt, sire?” shouted one of the troops.

  “Damn arrow got my boot,” Felix shouted back. “I’m fine. We have to form a shield wall. We’ll move slowly back down the hill, but we have to be able to withstand their initial attack.”

  As the scouts moved into position in front of King Felix, they began to hear the screams of the invading army. Their commanders had sent them forward, and the men were running flat out, planning to use their momentum to break down the defenders’ shield walls. Felix looked over and saw that General Sals had formed a shield wall of his own. They would move down the hill and converge at the bridges that the Boar Legion had constructed.

  Fear was rattling its icy breath on the back of King Felix’s neck, but he also felt the pride of knowing that the men around him were willing to fight. It made him proud that General Sals had acted in the same manner that the King had done, even without any orders. He knew that his officers were well trained. It was true that some were young and inexperienced, like Corlis, Commander of the Orrock Heavy Horse, but there was something to be said for a hungry fighter looking forward to his first taste of glory.

  Many of the leaders of the King’s Army were noble born and appointed as much for their family connections as for their ability in the field, but most had fought the Skellmarians who trickled out of the mountains to attack settlements in the Great Valley, or Shirtac raiders who sailed their long ships down from the northern tundra and pillaged along the western coast of Yelsia. Felix hoped that experience would give them an edge in this battle and the ones to come.

  The first invaders crested the hill and renewed their battle cry when they saw the Yelsians. King Felix knew that at any time his Royal Guard would arrive to whisk him away, but he needed to stay and support the fifty or so scouts who were slowly retreating down the hill. He drew his sword and shouted to his men.

  “Hold that wall! Here they come.”

  The first few soldiers threw themselves against the shields of the Yelsians. The scouts combined their strength and held the wall firm. The attackers were knocked back and then cut down. When the invaders rushed down in groups, t
he defense became more difficult. The scouts did their best to hold their shields together, but the weight and momentum of the invaders running into them at full speed knocked several backwards, and the wall quickly dissolved.

  The melee that ensued could have been disastrous, but King Felix charged forward on his giant horse. He struck out with his sword a few times, but the real danger was Specter’s thrashing hooves. No one could stand against the mighty horse in his plate armor. Felix directed him in a circle around his small band of scouts. Several of the soldiers had been wounded or killed, but the space created by King Felix’s charge gave them time to reassemble. They set up their shield wall again just as Felix circled behind them. There were too many invaders for the ones cresting the hill to charge through. They had to depend on their superior numbers to push down the wall of shields the Yelsians were using to defend themselves, and it took almost three minutes before the sheer number of invaders gave them the strength to push back the shield wall.

  King Felix was calling out orders from the back of his massive horse. He was calling the scouts into a steady retreat. They moved slowly down the gently sloping hill. As they withdrew, the light from the burning trebuchets increased. The invaders were just about to flank them when arrows went whistling over King Felix’s head and fell among the invaders. The volley, fired by Yelsian archers shooting from the river bank, was just enough to give the invaders pause once again, as the battle lust that had sent them charging down the hill evaporated and the terror of death settled over them.

  The Royal Guard charged up the hill and surrounded the King, but he sent them to reinforce the scouts’ shield wall. The Royal Guard were elite fighters, both with short swords and throwing knives, but they didn’t carry shields. Instead they ranged behind the scouts and used their weapons to cut down the invaders by thrusting their swords over the scouts’ shields. It was a grueling effort, and the invaders were slowly overwhelming the scouts even though their attack was unorganized.

  King Felix could hear the enemy commanders shouting orders and trying to arrange the invading troops into a shield wall of their own, but then a full century of foot soldiers from the Eagle Legion rushed forward with their spears leveled at the invaders. The long reach of the spears caused the invaders to stop their push onto the shield wall of the scouts.

  “My lord,” called General Tolis as he rode toward King Felix. “We shall hold them here; please begin your retreat.”

  The space the Eagle soldiers made was enough to allow the scouts and Royal Guard to retreat back with King Felix. He led them several hundred yards closer to the river until they could feel the heat from the burning trebuchets at their backs, then he ordered them to renew their shield wall. There were fewer than thirty scouts left, but it would be enough to cover the retreat of the Eagles.

  “General Tolis!” Felix shouted. “Begin your withdrawal.”

  The General shouted orders, and his men moved with quick efficiency. The invaders were darting forward now, trying to find a gap in the line of soldiers. Another volley of arrows arced over the line, and once again the invaders were scattered in panic. As the Eagle troops moved back, King Felix looked to the top of the hill. The soldiers there were massing for a concerted push. The King realized he needed to get his men down the hill and across the bridge as quickly as possible.

  “Move, General!” he shouted at Tolis.

  King Felix looked over to where General Sals had been and saw that the other group of scouts were now surrounded. General Sals was nowhere to be seen, but Corlis had the scouts formed up in a circle that was fighting ferociously. But they weren’t moving down the hill, and they had no avenue of escape. Felix turned toward his archers near the wooden bridges.

  “Archers!” he shouted. “To me, archers. To your King!”

  The archers jogged forward. Their commander, an older man named Verhok, came with them.

  “Verhok, can you clear a path for those soldiers to join us?” King Felix asked.

  The veteran archer nodded and called for several of his men by name. They lined up and fired their arrows in rapid succession, each one hitting its mark. King Felix made a mental note to reward each of the talented archers when time permitted.

  Felix stood in his stirrups and waved his arms as he called to Commander Corlis.

  “Lead them this way, Corlis!” he shouted. “We’ll cover you.”

  The young commander met Felix’s gaze and then began shouting at the scouts around him. They broke from their position and ran toward the King. The archers picked off several of their attackers and over half of the dwindling group survived the run, including Commander Corlis.

  “Where is General Sals?” Felix called to him.

  “He was cut down in the initial charge,” Corlis shouted back.

  Felix nodded grimly. There was no reason to continue the fight now. He needed to move his troops back quickly. The archers went first, resuming their position beside the bridge. They were followed by the scouts led by Commander Corlis. Then King Felix’s group of scouts and Royal Guard joined with the remaining soldiers from Eagle Legion and moved slowly back toward the bridge. The archers fired volley after volley, but most of the invaders had their shields up now and the rain of arrows had little effect.

  Once the soldiers reached the bridge the archers crossed over first. The battle became fierce once the invaders saw their enemy escaping. They pressed in hotly, their timidity cast aside. The Royal Guard surrounded King Felix and General Tolis, who were shouting orders. Then arrows came raining down from the invader’s archers, forcing King Felix to retreat back over the bridge. Over half of the troops on the south side of the Tillamook River died in the fighting. The other half sprinted across the bridge then turned to hold the crossing against the enemy fighters who were crowding across the wooden structure. There was a wide drawbridge close to Orrock, but it had been raised and the draw lines severed, so that the bridge couldn’t be lowered onto the stone pilings. The bridge the soldiers now defended was a temporary structure, and as soon as his troops were across, King Felix order the bridge to be fired.

  Arrows were lit with torches and then shot into the planks of the bridge. The Boar Legion had soaked the bridge in oil as they crossed, so when the flaming arrows hit, the fire spread rapidly. At least fifty enemy soldiers were wounded or killed by the fire, while King Felix completed his retreat.

  The army was half a day’s ride west of Orrock, but the army would march through the night. It was imperative that they reach the safety of Orrock’s walls before the invaders crossed the river and caught up to them.

  King Felix had left the Wolf Legion, commanded by General Griggs, to man Orrock’s defenses and to see that the city was prepared in case of a siege. He only hoped that General Griggs had everything ready for their return. Griggs was a capable leader, but more suited for administration that military strategy, which was why King Felix had left his legion in reserve.

  “What are your orders, my King?” asked General Yinnis.

  “See to our retreat back to Orrock,” Felix ordered, wiping the sweat from his brow and then taking a long drink from his canteen. We must arrive before dawn. Get these troops moving before Offendorl finds a way across the river and cuts us off.

  “But Sire, you are wounded. Surely you need medical care.”

  “It’s nothing that can’t wait. Our priority is getting these troops moving. We can rest once we get into the castle. Am I making myself clear?”

  “Yes, my lord,” said Yinnis.

  “And, General, give Commander Corlis temporary command of the Fox Legion.”

  “Is General Sals dead then, sir?”

  “I’m afraid so,” said King Felix.

  The King saw a wave of emotion pass across Yinnis’s face, but the general nodded and rode away to oversee the retreat. Many of the officers in the King’s Army were friends. Their bonds stemmed not only from fighting side by side, but also because they were all the youngest children of noble families and understo
od one another. General Yinnis had obviously been grieved by the news that General Sals had been killed, yet he did his duty. King Felix and his officers knew there would be time for grief once the invasion had been turned back.

  Felix took another drink and then turned his horse. He was surrounded by Royal Guardsmen who had found horses somewhere. The King didn’t question their methods. The Royal Guard had the right to commandeer whatever they needed to protect the King.

  “Gentlemen,” King Felix said to his men, “let’s ride.”

  They galloped away, following a path that angled away from the river but toward Orrock. The pain in Felix’s foot grew worse as they rode. In the battle, he hadn’t had time to think about the wound, but in the tedium of their ride through the night, the pain grew so bad it was all he could think about. His boot was leaking blood, but not as fast as it was filling his boot. The foot was swelling, and every jolt his horse made sent a spasm of pain up his leg. He tried propping his foot across the horse’s back but couldn’t find a position on the big animal that was comfortable. As the night wore on, hours in the saddle and lack of sleep made his whole body ache. His eyes felt gritty and his stomach soured. He longed for a bottle of wine and a soft bed, but his entire kingdom was at stake, so he forced himself to keep riding. It was the only option he had.

  Chapter 28

  Quinn didn’t complain, even though his body ached so bad he couldn’t hold down food while they were riding. Still, he rode as long as there was daylight. Zollin was moving toward Orrock, which meant he wasn’t going south with Mansel, so Quinn allowed Miriam to dictate their pace. She nursed him as often as she could. When they made camp she did everything, from rubbing down their horses to starting the fire and cooking their dinner. The first night they had stayed at a small inn, but after getting separate rooms, they both decided that they would prefer to camp so that Miriam could keep a closer eye on Quinn. They also enjoyed the privacy.

  The fluid buildup in Quinn’s lungs didn’t improve quickly. The cough that racked his body from time to time made every muscle in his stomach and back incredibly sore. Just riding a horse became difficult, but Quinn refused to stop. On the third day, Miriam talked Quinn into getting a wagon. He had no coin, but Miriam was able to barter for an old wagon. They didn’t have much in the way of supplies, so they folded their blankets across the wagon bench and rode side by side. Miriam tried to get Quinn to lie down in the back but he flatly refused.