Date: Mon, 3 Dec 2001 22:45:32 EST From: Bwstories8@aol.com Subject: Sword of Kings - chapter 17 Legal Notice: The following story contains descriptions of graphic sexual acts. The story is a work of fiction and has no basis in reality. Don't read this story if: **You're not 18 or over, **If it is illegal to read this type of material where you live, **Or if you don't want to read about gay/bi people in love or having sex. The author retains copyright to this story. Placing this story on a website or reproducing this story for distribution without the author's permission is a violation of that copyright. Legal action will be taken against violators. I wish to extend my thank you to Ed for his editorial assistance with this chapter. If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me at http://members.tripod.de/wolfslair, in the 'Other Stories' section. E-mail responses to the stories, story suggestions, or other 'constructive' comments or advice may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com. * * * * * * * * The Sword of Kings-by BW (Fantasy/Sci.Fi.). Copyright 2000 by billwstories Chapter 17 - The battle's first blood. October 2001 The two armies stood facing each other, trying to assess their opponent's true strength. They also tried to determine the opposition's strategy by the way it deployed its troops, and then they had to endure the agonizing wait to see which side would make the first move. As Beraut's keen eyes scanned the Dark Lord's forces and his superior mind absorbed all the information he gathered, he was now able to decide whether the intelligence collected from his many spies and informants had been accurate. He had based his entire battle plan upon those reports and now he had to determine if there were any apparent flaws or weaknesses in those reports that could affect their strategy, flaws that might be exploited or work to their disadvantage, due to misinformation. He scanned the entire length of the enemy ranks, seeking out incongruities in the way they were dispersed, locate any weak spots he might be able to take advantage of, or uncover any surprises it may have hidden somewhere behind the foremost ranks. As he surveyed the sizeable horde before him, the wizard was able to catalogue many fragments of information in the back of his mind, storing these morsels for later use, wanting to select the most appropriate and advantageous moment to profit from them. Beraut was satisfied that his intelligence gathering had been fairly accurate and that he would need make only slight adjustments to his plans. While the wizard and the others in charge endeavored to find flaws in the Dark Lord's deployment, the common soldiers struggled with their restless desire to end the waiting. They shifted their weight uneasily from one leg to the other, anxious for the battle to begin and this torturous lull to cease. At one time or another, each warrior would let his sweaty fighting palm drift to the hilt of his sword, testing the ease with which it could be removed from its scabbard. Nervously they would then experiment with their other weapons, verifying their locations and accessibility, then giving them a cursory inspection before they were returned to the appropriate place. They knew that their well-being and continued existence would depend on these instruments of war, so they wanted to make a final check to assure themselves that each item was where it should be and that it could be located and put into use fairly easily. The collective droning of the heavy, uneven breathing of the troopers and the mounts of the cavalry soon became an almost deafening hum, totally obscuring any other sound that came from farther away. All of these things helped to cover the area with a blanket of tension and restlessness that only the commencement of the fighting would help to relieve. Even the horses seemed to be ready to participate, as they skittishly pranced as much as they could in their confined areas, awaiting their chance to charge and anticipating the jostling of combat they instinctively knew would follow. The wizard had noted the way the enemy forces were arranged and he concluded that it left little doubt as to their plan of attack in this upcoming conflict. The entire enemy army had been assembled in two ranks, one behind the other, and they were spread out in an east-west line, which extended over the terrain like the backbone of some giant snake. The gnomes were in the first rank, while their fellow conspirators, the Merropites, were formed up behind them. Their entire army was comprised entirely of foot soldiers, the only mounted warriors to be found were the officers in charge, and it was evident that they planned on making a full frontal assault. There would be no guises or finesse in this encounter, and it was obvious that the Dark Lord was confident in the ability of his troops and that their numbers were sufficient to defeat the opposition. It appeared that Madumda and his military leaders were very confident that they would emerge victorious. 'Hmmm, my wayward brother appears to be very confident that he shall be victorious,' Beraut thought. 'Maybe a little too confident.' The wizard stroked his beard as he continued to contemplate the situation. 'I must not underestimate my brother and surmise his intent merely by the deployment of his troops, as this may be a ruse. I might be wrong, but he seems to be arrogantly flaunting his belief that he will win and not taking the precautions that I would have chosen to follow. This could be an attempt to give us a false presentation of his intentions and entice us into some tactical blunder, or to tempt us to re-deploy our troops. Is it possible that Madumda is hiding a portion of his battle forces until later, or that he has some omnipotent champion to hurl at us at an opportune moment?' He continued to mull the possibilities over and over again in his mind, trying to get into his counterpart's head. 'No,' he finally concluded, 'he is merely like the cat toying with the mouse. The cat can't foresee any possible way the mouse can harm him or escape his trap, so the cat continues to play with it until the enjoyment has passed. No, I don't believe he feels that he has to create any illusions or cloak his intent. Perhaps his boldness will come back to haunt him later, especially if I have anything to do about that.' As Beraut continued to ponder the situation, he also began to analyze his own offensive and defensive strategies, trying to see if they were still appropriate, considering what he had now seen. He noted a few modifications he thought should be made, and maybe a new wrinkle he might also be able to work in. A faint, insidious grin crept over the mage's haggard face, as he also realized that one of his little schemes that had already been set into motion would be even more effective against Madumda's troop deployment than he had first suspected. It seemed as if the Gods might be looking favorably on the allies, at least for the time being, and he prayed this good fortune would continue. The wizard's attention was suddenly jerked back to the present, when one of his officers interrupted his thoughts by bringing it to his attention that there was something was happening along the other end of the enemy's ranks. Beraut used his keen vision and scanned the opponent's battle lines, only to discover that the disturbance was due to the arrival of their leader. Madumda had obviously just arrived and was being cheered on by his underlings, as the sorcerer rode his steed back and forth in front of them, getting his troops sufficiently aroused for the upcoming battle. As the wizard continued to conduct his surveillance of what was happening across the way, he also noted one more seemingly insignificant fact that also piqued his interest. Up until now he hadn't noticed that for the first time, the Dark Lord's troops were wearing an insignia across the front of their tunics. Never before had his evil brother allowed his henchmen to wear any blazons or decorations of any sort on their dreary black uniforms, and he was 0curious as to why he had permitted this now. Maybe Madumda thought it would add an element of fear to those approaching them, giving uneasiness to those attacking and giving his forces a slight edge. What other reason could he have for placing a red target, for that is how Beraut perceived these badges, on the chests of his warriors? Beraut now studied these new insignias and discovered that there were two distinct designs being used. They obviously were created for the specific race using them, though they were similar in appearance and radiated the same aura of evilness. Each insignia contained a skull in its design, but the logo was accentuated by adding the weapon of choice for that particular group. The gnomes' blazon had the frontal view of a skull, highlighted with crisscrossed battleaxes behind it. The battleaxe was the favored weapon of these diminutive troopers, as was the case with their cousins the dwarfs, and this emblem suitably defined their character. The other insignia was worn by the Merropites, who were distant relatives of the men from Akikta, like Rhys. Their emblem displayed a three-quarters view of the skull, with a dagger plunged menacingly through it. Besides the symbols on their uniforms, each group also carried banners, skillfully designed with the same crest, which were displayed before them. The overall effect gave no doubt as to their malevolent intent and who was commanding their efforts. Having satisfied his curiosity, Beraut now let his attention turn toward the upcoming battle. After several minutes of contemplation, the wizard concluded that it would be best if his forces struck the first blow. This would immediately place his opponents on the defensive, alter whatever plan they had devised, thus taking away their impetus from the onset of the fighting. Without having to bark out an audible command, the wizard gave a prearranged signal, sending his forces at full gallop toward the enemy lines. His troopers let out screams and shouts that would have rivaled those of the restless spirits that haunted the Valley of the Dead, and had the intended effect of startling their enemies and causing confusion among their ranks. Madumda's ranks broke slightly with this sudden move and blood-curdling scream, as some of his forces began to advance while others moved slightly backward. With this temporary break in discipline, his officers fought to regain control of their soldiers. With the movement of individuals in both directions, this caused some slight gaps to appear between them. As the Dark Lord's officers worked to get their units back into formation and tried desperately to restore order to their command, the allies continued to advance. Madumda snarled when this happened, as it caused the brief meeting he was having with his officers to break up, as the various commanders moved in various directions to take charge of those under them. They continued to bark out orders, trying to bring a semblance of military decorum to the chaos that resulted from the sudden, unexpected assault, and were slowly regaining control of the situation. The allies never slowed their assault, especially since they were energized by the chaos they had caused, and soon fierce hand-to-hand combat erupted as they smashed into the opposition. The Tarolian forces claimed many lives during that brief encounter, taking advantage of the slight confusion to kill or maim as many of their opponents as possible, but then they withdrew nearly as quickly and unexpectedly, confusing their opponents again. The allies withdrew, leaving about fifty meters between the two sides again, and then fell behind the ranks carrying the huge repelling shields. They took their designated positions behind the wall that soon formed, and the Dark Lord's forces thought this was in preparation for the counter-attack they expected to follow. At this point Beraut gave another barely perceptible signal, and that launched a barrage of arrows to rain from the sky and wreaked havoc upon the other side. The dead and wounded fell where they stood, as their comrades scurried about, trying to avoid a similar fate, but the torrent of arrows never ceased, as the archers continued to fill the air with feathery shafts. The final volley of projectiles had not yet reached their mark, when the front ranks of the allied forces parted once more, allowing their mounted warriors to make the next charge. The cavalry, who had been waiting patiently in the rear, now swept across the short expanse, their pikes and lances extended out over their mounts, taking aim at whatever unfortunate devil stood before them. As the horse soldiers hurtled into the enemy ranks, their weapons skewering whatever warrior stood before them, they inflicted as much damage as they could. Whenever possible they would extract their lance or pike from their victim, but sometimes these weapons would become hopelessly embedded in the collapsing mass of flesh that now surrounded it. When this occurred, the mounted trooper would release his grip of the now useless weapon of war and then draw his sword to continue fighting. They would slash viciously at whatever foeman stood near, taking advantage of their leverage and the confusion that reigned along the enemy's front ranks. It was a brief but furious encounter, and then they made a hasty retreat, drawing some of their foes into pursuit behind them. While the cavalry had been making its sting felt, the infantry and archers had raced across the intervening ground and assembled into another prescribed formation, this one much closer to the enemy lines. After they completed this maneuver, they waited until the cavalry returned, with a small host of enemy soldiers following after them. They opened their ranks up, to allow the mounted troopers to pass by, before they prepared to clash with those behind them. As the horseman reined in their steeds and wheeled about for the next engagement, the enemy soldiers realized their blunder and sought a quick solution to their predicament. They now found themselves totally exposed and too far away from their own ranks to return quickly or easily, and there weren't enough of them to launch any kind of attack or make a suitable stand. The Tarolian infantry, armed with battle shields and their weapons of choice, began their advance. Any of the Dark Lord's forces who decided to turn and run were easily shot down by one or more of the archers, so the rest decided to stand and engage them. They fought bravely, but they were hopelessly outnumbered, and it was only a matter of minutes before they too all lay lifeless on the ground. They didn't die in vain, however, as their sacrifice gave their brethren time to regroup and prepare for the next confrontation. Now Madumda's forces took to the offensive, and they began their assault. As the dark clad warriors raced the short distance at them, the archers moved in front and began loosing their arrows at the onrushing tide. Some of those projectiles hit shields or fell harmlessly to the ground, but others found their mark and stopped or slowed an unfortunate foe. Without hesitation, they continued to let their missiles fly, until the enemy was so close that they deemed it prudent to fall behind the ranks of foot soldiers. The Dark Lord's minions kept charging and the allies braced themselves for what was to come, until the shockwave of colliding troopers could be heard and felt over the entire battlefield. This also gave the archers time to sling their bows across their back and draw their own swords and shields, to assist the others. The clash of the two armies meeting was thunderous, as the enemy rammed headlong into the front ranks of the Tarolian forces, and it sounded as though thousands of blacksmiths were working frantically on their anvils to complete an order. The sounds of swords striking shields or reverberating off other swords filled the air and drowned out the cries of the warriors who shrieked out in agony, as their bodies were pierced. From a distance, the battle seemed to be engulfed in lightning, as the sunlight danced off the metal blades, but soon the weapons were covered with blood and dirt, thus ending the illusion. Soon the reality of the struggle was evident and the carnage was beginning to mount, but the melee continued. Each side continued to chalk up more than their share of victims, yet they also tended to receive as well as they gave. The fierce battle continued to mar the countryside, staining the ground in an ocean of crimson and coating the greens, yellows, and browns of its natural vegetation. The land itself now looked as though it too had been wounded, and so it had, as feet trampled the plant-life and doused it in a new type of fertilizer, the water of life that had once sustained the individual from whom it now flowed. While the foot soldiers continued this bloody struggle, the cavalry divided into two even groups and set about to attack the enemy's flanks. This maneuver took some of the impetus away from the assault, making them take a defensive posture on either side of the central attack. This brought a temporary stalemate to the battle, as now neither side had any definite advantage. The fighting droned on toward midday, and then each side became weary and began to withdraw. The dying and mortally wounded were left where they were, as each side was too exhausted to worry about those beyond hope. Quickly the warriors began to seek out drinks, needing to replenish their depleted supply of body fluids. After they had rested for a brief time and began to recover, they sought out a quick snack, before the battle effort was renewed. As they knew it would, a new assault was made, with each side initiating a new strike. Once again the battle reached a point where neither side had the advantage, and the close infighting was intense. The battle labored on as darkness approached, and slowly they pulled apart as the fading sunlight overtook the field of combat. As the sounds of the battle lessened and the armies began to give ground, General Daveel ordered a horn to sound, letting his forces know that they should make their way back toward camp. This innocuous gesture brought an unexpected reaction from their opponents, who must have thought that the retreat meant they had gained an advantage. The enemy aggressively pursued the retreating forces, continuing to attack and staying on the offensive. What Madumda's forces didn't know was that this was a calculated preplanned ploy, getting them to follow like this, and eagerly the Dark Lord's forces had swallowed the bait. The only element that hadn't been preplanned was the exact time that they would use this maneuver, as they had to let the battle dictate that move. Now that the pllan had been set into motion, the cavalry made the next move. They were easily able to get away from those they battled, urging their steeds to bolt free of the carnage, but the ground troops were unable to make such a clean break. As the infantry slowly and painstakingly made their way back toward their designated areas, they continued to defend themselves from assault. The retreat wasn't easy, as they had to navigate obstacles and fallen bodies without being able to look behind themselves, but eventually they reached an open area. As they prepared to make another stand, the cavalry made a charge into the center of the fighting, giving their side the advantage once more and helping keep the aggressor at bay. When they had done a sufficient amount of damage to the opposition, the mounted troops withdrew once more, and fell back behind the infantry. Before the Dark Lord's forces had time to regroup and decide their next move, many of them started to fall dead or cry out in pain, as a multitude of quarrels slammed into their backsides, propelled by unseen crossbows. Even as they had scanned the area to locate this new threat to them, they could find no one there. Even though the light was waning, there was still enough illumination that they should have been able to see where these projectiles came from. They didn't have long to ponder that point, however, as they were still battling the armed men in front of them. The miniature arrows, loosed from the unseen crossbows, continued to take their toll, and Madumda's troops finally decided it was best to make a hasty retreat. As they wheeled and prepared to flee, they were surrounded by a host of dwarf troops, who had not been there previously. Captain Baith had silently given the order for his troops to come out from hiding, so they had lifted their camouflaged shields and crawled out of the trenches from which they had been firing. They had been lifting the shields ever so slightly, so they could aim and shoot, and then they would lower them again while they reloaded. This was the reason Beraut had ordered them to slip out of camp late one night, and to set up this little surprise. Now they were swinging battleaxes, maces, and swords at their enemies, who were now hopelessly surrounded. The skirmish continued until every one of the dark clad warriors was slain or subdued. Those who had surrendered or were not fatally wounded, had their hands bound behind their backs, and then that rope was lashed to the person standing beside them. They were bound in groups of threes and fours, making it difficult for them to act in concert to escape. Then they were placed between two rows of guards and led back to the encampment for interrogation. Once the triumphant group had returned to their base, the prisoners were led away to be questioned by experienced interrogators, while the dwarfs were questioned by their friends and comrades, about their own part in all this. The others wanted to know exactly how they happened to be there, who had given the orders, and how they had waited all that time alone. The stream of questions continued, so Captain Baith stepped the grilling and took command of the situation. "We would like to apprise you about our deployment and what we went through, but at present there are other tasks to be performed. We must go back to where the battle took place and recover the wounded, so they may be tended to. The dead can wait for now, but we must recover those who are still alive, before the Dark Lord's cohorts get there to finish them off." Everyone agreed with Baith's assessment, and recovery details were sent out to retrieve those still living. As the warriors wandered into that field strewn with an assortment of motionless and writhing forms, they recovered their wounded brethren, provided temporary treatment to them, and then carried them back to camp. Other squads were there solely to defend the medical teams, in case some of Madumda's minions decided to attack, but nothing of that sort occurred. They did ask what they should do with the deceased or what should be done with the enemy wounded, as there was a large collection of them scattered about. Once more, Captain Baith was the one who dealt with these issues. "The dead will have to wait," he said grimly, "for there is insufficient time to collect the amount of wood that would be required to build a crematory pyre of adequate size to dispose of all those who have been killed thus far. In addition, we don't have the people necessary to do the work, as all the troops need to rest for tomorrow's encounter. A mass grave is also out of the question, again because we don't have enough help to do that much digging. I'm afraid we'll have to wait until the battle has ended before we can dispose of them properly, but their remains will probably be feasted upon by the scavengers before we get a chance to honor them correctly. "It also does not go unnoticed that the Dark Lord's army did not attempt to return to seek out their injured companions. We had heard long ago that Madumda's philosophy was that those worth saving would be able to find their own way back to camp to be treated, and those that couldn't weren't worth the time or effort it would take to heal them. That's why there are so many still out there who are being left to die. We will, however, follow the unwritten code of compassion and decency and take those who are still alive to be tended to or we shall make them comfortable until they die. We will only do that after we have seen to the needs of our own troops, as we shall not put their welfare behind that of our enemies." The Tarolian army continued to perform their chores with untiring devotion, but their opponent's callous disregard for life did not go unobserved by every soldier, no matter how high or low his rank. It did trouble the younger, inexperienced warriors to a far greater extent, as they moved about, listening to the suffering of an abandoned warrior or when they became the target of some wounded opponent's pleas for mercy. Not only did they become affected emotionally, but some even became physically ill, considering the suffering and hopelessness those poor dying souls were enduring. They continued to do their recovery jobs until the hour grew late and their bodies were too weary to go on. At that point they were ordered to go back and rest, being told that some of the civilian personnel could continue the recovery operation, beginning at daybreak. Some of them hesitated before leaving, not willing to leave those still suffering behind, but they finally realized that there was little more they could do under the circumstances, so they did as they were ordered. As they sat down to grab a bite, to replenish their strength, some of the soldiers not under Captain Baith's command began to ask him how he had pulled off the trap earlier. They wanted to know how he decided to hide his troops as he did, how he knew the enemy would walk into the trap, and how long they had been there or would have waited to spring the trap. Finally he was forced to respond. "That tactic was devised by Beraut quite some time ago. When he met us at Thorold, he taught our troops how to camouflage our shields, but we had no idea at that time what he had in store for us. Shortly after we met up with him again, he gave me my orders of what he wanted me to do, but I'm not sure if these were his original intentions." "Not exactly," Beraut's voice boomed from behind the captain. He had been making his way over to congratulate the dwarf and had overheard the conversation. "I had planned to use you to set a trap, but I wasn't exactly sure when it would take place or how it would turn out. When I first arrived and saw where the battle would be fought, a plan suddenly came to me. I sent the dwarf troops out, under cover of darkness, to dig suitable positions for themselves and then disguise where they were hiding with their shields. They were purposefully deployed on the sides of the battleground, and they did an excellent job concealing themselves, so no one suspected they were there." "But how did you know you could draw the enemy into that trap?" one soldier wanted to know. "We didn't for sure," Beraut informed him, "but we calculated that sooner or later they would approach to a point where we could spring our little surprise. It was just fortunate for us that it was late in the day when it happened, when those we were fighting couldn't see clearly what was happening to them. Otherwise, the good captain and his men could have been at grave risk." "Well, how did they know when to put the plan into action?" another inquired. "That was entirely up to Captain Baith's discretion. I'll let him explain why he chose the time he did." Captain Baith flushed a bit before he answered, hoping the wizard would handle all of the questions, but finally he responded. "I had told all my men that no one would fire until they saw me loose the first bolt. At that point, they could choose their own targets and fire at will. I just waited until I was sure that as many troops as possible were in range and that we could take them out without much risk to our own troops who were engaged by them." "What would you have done if they hadn't blundered into that trap?" someone else asked. "Then my men and I would have stayed in place until we could have been useful or we would have waited for the cover of darkness, and then made our way back here." "You see,' Beraut added, "the retreat was a calculated move to draw some of Madumda's forces after us. Now we saw how aggressive the Dark Lord was, we felt that when the horn sounded retreat, some of his troops would follow, because they would assume that they had the advantage and gained the upper hand. Those who took the bait learned too late about their mistake in judgment, but most will never be able to learn from that mistake." Everyone knew that the wizard was referring to the fact that the majority of them had been killed. "Captain Baith had been advised to place his unit so they would be slightly off to either side of where we expected the battle to take place, so he could pin the enemy in a crossfire, without putting our own forces in jeopardy. However, the plan did not go quite as it was intended to. You see, as some of Madumda's forces got sucked into out little trap, the northern and eastern armies were to attack both flanks of the Dark Lord's battle line. At that point, Captain's Baith's concealed unit was to pick off those who had been sucked into the trap, like picking rats off in the dungeon, and then the forces that had just retreated were to turn around and attack the center of his army again." "But neither of our armies showed up," remarked one trooper. "What happened to them?" "I have no answer to the question," Beraut remarked, "but it concerns me greatly that neither contingent was able to carry out their assignment." "Do you think the armies of Treblanc already defeated them?" another soldier asked. "I have no way to answer that positively, but I do know that something was happening at Tunstan last evening. There was a considerable glow that illuminated the darkness, and it originated from that area. It was as if the entire city was burning unchecked, but I could not tell if it was the result of a battle or just plain barbarism. However, that might account for the northern army's failure to show. As for the eastern army, I have neither seen nor heard anything which would account for their tardiness." "Can we win this battle without those armies?" asked a battle-weary warrior. "I don't believe that would be possible. We might be able to hold out one more day if neither shows, and a day or two longer if one or the other makes it, but I'm not sure we can be victorious unless both groups arrive." "What is your plan for tomorrow, then?" someone else inquired. "I haven't had a chance to work that out yet," responded the beleaguered mage. "I'm not sure if I have any more tricks up my sleeve, at least anything that will have any long term consequences. We'll just have to go out there tomorrow and battle toe to toe, until one side or the other cannot continue any longer or the day ends. If things go well, those armies have just been delayed and will show up during tomorrow's engagement and they will help shift the tide of battle in our favor. But that's enough of this talk for now. We must all get some rest and renew our strength for tomorrow's battle. All officers will report to my tent an hour before sunrise and I will give you your assignments then. Until that time, I bid you all a restful slumber." Slowly, everyone made his way to locate a spot to bed down for the evening, as Beraut made his way back to his tent. Guards were posted, though no one expected any surprise assault tonight, but it is always best to prepare for the unexpected. As the camp grew quiet, except for the scattered coughs and groans of the resting troopers, the pleas of Madumda's discarded wounded could be heard, as they beseeched someone to come to their assistance. By morning, hardly any of those requests could still be heard. As the others went to bed down, Beraut returned to his tent and tried to conjure up an image of Kieren. He hoped to be able to see what kind of progress he had made. For hours the wizard struggled to produce a recognizable image of his ward, but he could only summon faint outlines in the total blackness in which he found them. These visions gave the wizard no new information about them, and he could draw no conclusions as to their progress. The only useful information he had gleaned was that they were still alive, though he couldn't tell if they were still attempting to complete their mission or if they had been captured. He didn't, however, feel any magical powers around them, so he was pretty sure that Madumda was unaware of Kieren's existence. Knowing this, the magician laid his head upon a rolled up cloak and slowly drifted off to sleep. His mind was still busy planning the next day's battle, but his body was getting the rest it now needed. The night passed by quickly and it wouldn't be long before the sun would be rising, when a guard came in to awaken Beraut. As the rest of the camp stirred back to life, the wizard was hurriedly preparing to meet with his officers. Soon the first of them began to arrive. Beraut greeted each of his officers personally, as they entered his tent, and then indicated where he wanted them to sit. When the last of them had made his way to his assigned place, the wizard began his remarks. "I will not try to deceive you," he began, "but the situation, as it stands right now, is fairly bleak. Without the support of our missing armies, I doubt if we shall be able to survive for longer than just today. We are still outnumbered without them, and unless any of you has come up with some scheme I have overlooked, by tomorrow I shall be forced to call my evil brother out for a duel of magical powers. Knowing how powerful he is, I have little confidence that I can overcome his combined strengths, but I will do what I can to aid our cause. Our only other hope lies in Kieren, and his ability to find the Sword, so we must do our best to give him time to succeed in carrying out that task. Otherwise, Madumda is sure to slaughter all who survive, as I doubt he will take any prisoners or show any mercy." At this point, the Dwarfs' King Brolin decided to speak up. "I have been in other situations that seemed hopeless at the time, but I have discovered that where there is a will, there is also a way. There are an endless number of possibilities that may yet take place, so we mustn't despair until all hope is gone. Our armies may arrive at any time or Kieren may have already recovered the Sword. He may even be on his way here, as we speak, to challenge Madumda and fulfill the prophecy. We must continue to hold out as long as we can, to give these situations time to unfold." "I have long admired your eternal optimism, my dear friend," the mage told him, "and I agree that we must do all we can to provide an opportunity for any of those possibilities to happen. However, I must also be pragmatic, and I have to acknowledge that the odds do not favor us at this time. Therefore we shall have to do some unusual things to make this happen." "What if we were to dig in and just try to defend our current position?" Commander Tristan suggested. "It is my estimation that a defensive tactic such as that would only hinder our ability to succeed. Once we were dug in, my evil brother's armies would be able to surround us and attack us from all directions. At that point, their superiority in numbers would work to their advantage. No, I believe we must remain mobile and keep on the offensive. We must be able to strike as quickly as possible, whenever we see a weakness exposed, or be able to retreat within seconds, if the situation dictates that would be our best response. We must be like wolves on a hunt, striking wherever and whenever the chance arises, but selecting our targets carefully." "I agree completely," interjected General Daveel. "Our best chance to prolong this conflict, or possibly even gain an advantage, would be to do the unexpected. We'll need to be like a mosquito under the netting, making annoying little bites that will distract the target long enough for help to arrive. We must also be able to respond to situations as they expend themselves and we cannot do that if we commit ourselves to a defensive posture." "Most definitely," retorted Andrieu of Leander. "Beraut is correct in his assessment of the situation, and we must allow our most senior battle commanders to use their instincts to take control of the various situations as they arise. It will be our ability to respond rapidly to the changing tides of battle that will determine if we are successful." Seeing his senior staff was in agreement with his strategy, the wizard now instructed them to assemble their troops to move out at daybreak. "Before we adjourn, however," the weary mage added, "I have one more request to make. I need to ask a favor of the Dwarfs' Captain of the Guard." All heads turned, almost as one, and all eyes were now focused on Captain Baith. He has been seated quietly on one side of the tent, but now he was beginning to turn red, from all the sudden attention. "My young friend here," Beraut continued, looking at the dwarf captain, "has proven to be an impassioned orator and I humbly request for him to make a brief address to the troops before we engage in battle. Perchance his words can inspire our forces sufficiently that they will endure long enough to give us the time that we so desperately seek." A murmur of agreement echoed around the room, as King Dylan and Balister Rombaire patted the young officer on the back. This was meant to offer their support and approval of his sselection, as well as to give him a little encouragement and let him know this honor was nothing he should be embarrassed about. Outwardly, the dwarf captain merely nodded his acknowledgement, as his mind raced to come up with an idea that would be appropriate and inspirational. As the meeting began to break up and each participant set about to carry out the tasks that had been assigned to him, Beraut went back to reviewing his options once more, hoping to find any little advantage he might have previously overlooked. The camp was now beginning to buzz with activity, as the Tarolian army prepared themselves for battle, and soon they were falling into formation, ready for the roll to be taken. Once all the mundane tasks had been completed, they waited in silence as Captain Baith made his way to the forefront. As he turned to address the defenders of the realm, still not having finalized what he would say, he sought inspiration from the faces of those in the foremost ranks. "The hour has nearly arrived for us to face the Dark Lord's henchmen once more, as they attempt to gain control of our beloved kingdom and put it under the rule of their evil master. You are all well aware of the toll that yesterday's engagement took on both sides, and you must realize that today's sacrifices will be just as dear. We are all well aware that many of us be killed, while others are wounded to varying degrees, but we must resign ourselves to the fact that we shall lose much more than just our lives, if we fall short in our efforts. Our homeland, our freedom, and the future we had promised our spouses, children, and other loved ones will all disappear if we do not stop Madumda here and now. "Yes, we all realize how precious life is, but life is meaningless if we are slaves, or worse, to a despot such as Madumda. You've seen his disregard for life, as he left his wounded on the battlefield to die, and you know his reputation for cruelty and treachery. Is that what you want for your families, because I want far better for mine? I don't want them to have to live in fear and toil for someone else's benefit, and it is imperative that we prevail and allow our loved ones to enjoy the safety, freedom, and benefits our wonderful land has to offer. It is vital that we control whatever doubts and fears we might harbor in our souls, and plunge wholeheartedly into our cause to purge the land of this evil. We must expunge his sadistic presence and block his efforts to dominate and exploit the people and resources that abound in our fair kingdom. We must pray to the Gods and seek their divine intervention on our behalf. If we are successful, our countrymen will forever praise the names of the brave souls who made the ultimate sacrifice to defend our heritage and to ensure their future. It is now up to us to do all we can to ensure that this happens. May the Gods bless Tarolia and may she forever be free from such evil. I salute the brave souls who now march out to defend her." At that moment, Captain Baith slammed the thumb side of his closed right fist into his chest, before extending it straight out, chest high, in salute. This caused a cheer to erupt from within the ranks and that roar continued to increase until every warrior was chanting, "Tarolia, forever free. Long live Tarolia." The dwarf captain seemed somewhat surprised by the extent of the response that was now being generated, and he was confused as to how his few words could have been the catalyst for such enthusiasm. As he pondered this further, he began to realize that he was becoming the target of their adoration and even the object of their praise. This troubled him even more, as he was never one who wished to be the focal point of attention, and he sought desperately to withdraw into the background. He visually scanned the area, looking for someplace he could seek refuge or for someone to come to his rescue, when he spied the wizard and his eyes became transfixed by Beraut's gaze. The wizard appeared quite smug, as if he knew all along what was going to happen, and he nodded to the young dwarf officer, letting him know he understood his predicament. In an effort to rescue his young friend and regain control of the troops, the magician lifted his arms skyward, and slightly in front of his body, his palms extending outward. It took several minutes before everyone noticed and responded to his signal, but finally order was restored and everyone fell back into his place in the formation. The stage was now set for the new battle to begin. One of the senior officers barked a command and everyone set off in motion, just like some well-oiled machine. As they marched off to a fairly energetic cadence, the officers and those in the foremost ranks could see the outline of the approaching enemy army, which was also moving in their direction. As both groups moved forward, closing the gap between them, each side anticipated the conflict that would soon engulf them. Both sides came to a halt, once they were about thirty meters apart, and each group looked for its leaders to direct them as to what to do next. The Tarolian army watched as Beraut lifted his right arm above his head, sweeping it from side-to-side across the sky, signaling his troops to fall into battle formation. This was the same formation they had begun with the previous day, and the soldiers scurried into their positions, knowing that battle would soon begin. Before everyone had reached their assigned locations, the Dark Lord's army suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream and began a full charge at them, closing the gap within a very short time. It was obvious that they wished to dictate what happened, and when, today. As Madumda's generals took the offensive and mounted the first assault, the allied forces scrambled to prepare. Some of the archers were able to get off a few scattered shots at the onrushing forces, but there was much confusion along the Tarolian lines, as they had not had time to fully deploy into their assigned positions. This allowed the charging enemy army to form a semicircle around them, pinching them in on three sides, and gain the early advantage. Now even the archers drew their swords, knowing that hand-to-hand combat was what was dictated at this time. As they threw their lot in with the infantry, the battle began in earnest. Commander Tristan, who was in charge of the cavalry, was able to get his troops organized, as the foot soldiers held off the initial assault. He made a quick and violent charge at the enemy's eastern flank, using their pikes to attack the backside of the Dark Lord's ranks, as they battled the infantrymen before them. This not only accounted for a great number of enemy dead and wounded, but it demoralized that portion of Madumda's troops. Trying to escape the carnage of the dual assault, the Dark Lord's units began to withdraw, causing a great deal of confusion among their own ranks. When Commander Tristan realized their own infantry had began to gain the upper hand and drive the black-clad warriors back, he withdrew his mounted warriors and gave them new orders. The horse soldiers followed their leader, as he swept behind their own ranks while the foot soldiers held off the aggressors, and they soon mounted a similar charge against the other flank. At this point they once had once again pinned their opponents between their two forces, making an immediate impact of the momentum of battle, and the western flank of the enemy forces began to retreat under the force of this new assault and the immense carnage it wrought. Now the allies had gained the advantage on both sides, but the middle of the Tarolian lines were beginning to buckle under their aggressive attack. The soldiers fighting at the center of the battle continued to battle their opponents, but they were being slowly overpowered and driven back. Many of their comrades fell under the assault, the lucky ones being killed quickly, while the wounded were trampled by the onrushing horde. The officers in that area tried to regain control by sending a few extra warriors to assist at that location, but there weren't sufficient numbers to stem the tide of battle. Just when it appeared that the center ranks would be completely rendered and the Tarolian army split into two smaller groups, something else began to happen. At first the change was nearly imperceptible, except to those in the area affected, but something else was happening, something that was causing Madumda's forces to slow their assault. As Beraut and his senior officers tried to ascertain the reason for this shift in momentum, the wizard's keen vision allowed him to understand what was taking place. Now he realized that his prayers had been answered, as the Northern Army had arrived and was now busily attacking the western flank and part of the center of the Dark Lord's army. Beraut was unsure as to when they had arrived or how long they had been engaged in this battle, but their timing could not have been more fortuitous, and the tide of battle slowly turned back in favor of the allied forces. Eagerly the newcomers thrust, parried, and hacked at the enemy, showing the same enthusiasm the others had shown the previous day, and they slowly gained advantage and eliminated more and more of the opposition. Seeing part of his army trapped between a rock and a hard place, Madumda gave orders to retreat, so he could reorganize his tattered command before they were completely decimated. Beraut had other plans, however. Now that the momentum had shifted in his favor once more, he was determined to take full advantage of the situation and not let this opportunity go for naught. * * * * * * * * If you have enjoyed reading this story, you will find other stories by me at http://members.tripod.de/wolfslair, in the 'Other Stories' section. E-mails may be sent to: bwstories8@aol.com.