Michael Manning - The Line of Illeniel

Penny and I spent the night curled up companionably. By companionably I mean she used me for a pillow while I got the dubious comfort of a rolled up cloth sack to cushion my head. We had found it in a corner and it smelled of dust and oats. While we rested I stretched my mind out to its fullest, but I learned little else about the enemy.

The night was black and draped the dead men along the valley road in a cloak of darkness. Most were dead but scattered among the corpses were a few survivors, men broken and maimed, unable to move. Even those, few as they were, would have died soon, but for the scavengers that came to claim them. Creatures that walked on two legs like men, but were empty inside.

The shiggreth searched easily among the dead, the spark of life in those that still lived drew them like moths to a flame. Their numbers swelled as the night drew on, for though most of the soldiers were dead hundreds still clung to life. They were in no position to protect themselves from the things that came to feed upon them in the night.

Morning sunlight filtered through cracks in the wooden walls when we awoke. I sat up with a start, dislodging Penelope and causing her head to hit the floor with an audible thump.

“Ow!” she said, sitting up herself. “What time is it?”

“It’s late,” I answered. “Judging by the sunlight coming in I’d say it might be after nine.”

“Are they still there?” she asked.

“Yes and no,” I replied. “There’s a small group, maybe twenty men, camped outside. I don’t sense any others. It should be safe to go outside; maybe we can see more from the wall.”

“I can’t believe we slept so long,” she said as we quietly climbed the stairs leading up to the top of the curtain wall around Lancaster Castle.

“I haven’t slept well in several days, although it’s ironic we would catch up on our sleep while hiding from an army,” I replied. “Oh look!” I added. We had reached the top and were carefully peeking between the merlons. In the distance we could see the slower parts of the remaining invaders, traveling back toward Cameron Castle.

“They’re not all gone,” Penny reminded me. “I see those twenty you mentioned. They must want to make sure we don’t sneak back in.”

I nodded in agreement. “Most likely they have orders to report as soon as they see anyone returning, they may worry we have another surprise of some sort in store for them.”

“The women and children can’t come back then,” said Penny.

“Not yet, if we kill those men it may alert the enemy. I don’t know if they have some sort of scheduled message arrangement but I would expect them to. Let’s go back to Washbrook. We’ll need to prepare.”

Soon enough we were there, in the midst of chaos. Washbrook and Cameron Castle were crowded, and people filled the castle yard in every direction the eye could see. I couldn’t imagine what their night must have been like; many of them had probably slept on the ground. We made our way carefully through the crowd, hoping to find news within the castle itself. Genevieve found us first.

“Mordecai!” she shouted to get my attention through the crowded press. People automatically made room for her as she approached me. “This won’t do. There are too many here. Last night was a horror.”

“I’m sorry your grace,” I replied as politely as I could. “I hope we can send everyone back soon, but you’ll have to bear with it for a bit longer. How is James doing?”

Her husband had developed a slight limp after the arrow wound he received in the capital. Apparently even Marc’s goddess didn’t always heal things perfectly. Genevieve frowned at me. “He’s fine, as you should know. He went out with Cyhan on that last patrol,” she told me.

Actually I was surprised. I had been so busy with other matters I hadn’t noticed his presence. Nor did I realize he was taking turns on the patrols. Knowing the man I should have guessed though. James was never one to sit idle. “The enemy is returning here. When they arrive and start their siege I will have these people returned to Lancaster. I want you to take James with you when you go back,” I informed her.

“That stubborn man won’t leave a battle,” she laughed. “There’s no way you’ll get him to return.”

“There is a small guard left, watching Lancaster. Someone will have to remove them before the people can safely return. I’ll make sure to send him for the job,” I replied smiling.

“Just make sure it’s soon nephew. These people can’t live like this for long before they start to sicken,” she told me.

I thought for a moment. “Tonight I hope. I don’t want to send anyone to Lancaster until I’m sure that Vendraccus has committed himself against us here.”

By late afternoon the last of our patrols were forced to retreat to Cameron Castle. The enemy had reached us and begun digging in for what might be a long siege. I considered sending men out to harass them as they prepared their camps but Cyhan convinced me it was an ill-advised plan. They had at least five thousand able men and a large portion of them were holding ready to repel us should we attempt to sally.

Their numbers were enough for concern, since they outnumbered us almost ten to one, but what truly had me worried were the siege engines. I could see a variety of devices at the rear of their lines; machines I had seen in books but never imagined would someday be arrayed against me. There were small onagers and ballista, mounted on wheels and drawn by teams of horses. The onagers were simple affairs, with a throwing arm and a small bucket that could be loaded with various types of ammunition, such as rocks or firebrands. The ballistae were essentially giant crossbows and appeared to be loaded with large spear type bolts.

More frightening was the taller construction near the back. Unless I missed my guess it would be a large trebuchet when completed. The trebuchet had a much longer throwing arm with a sling like cup at one end to hold a projectile. The short end near the axle would have a heavy counterweight when it was finished. It was too large to be moved easily so they had brought the parts and were assembling it as we watched. Given its large size it would probably be able to throw rocks weighing several hundred pounds over a distance of hundreds of yards. The walls would never be able to withstand the assault once they had their range.

Dorian and Marc stood with me on the wall watching their progress. “I’m starting to feel under-dressed for this party,” Marc commented.

Dorian laughed, “It’s looking more and more like we are going to be on the receiving end of a lot of nasty siege weaponry. Can’t you do something about those things Mort?”

“Not while they’re that far out. How far do you think they can shoot?” I asked.

Dorian thought for a moment. “The ballista and the trebuchet will be able to fire from five hundred yards or so, perhaps further if they don’t mind missing more often. The onagers will need to get within three hundred yards at least.”

I didn’t like his assessment. Since Penny and I had formed the bond my best range for destructive magic was close to five hundred yards. The onagers probably wouldn’t be a problem for me but I doubted I would be able to do anything to disable the trebuchet at that distance. I would have to adjust my plans. “How long before they attack?” I asked.

Dorian’s answer was immediate, “Tomorrow.”

“You’re sure?”

“They won’t advance until their position has firmed up and the siege weapons are ready. They also have to worry that the king may be sending a relief force so they won’t waste time. If I was their commander I would start as soon as possible, and that would be tomorrow at dawn.” There was little doubt in my friend’s voice.