The Long War 01 - The Black Guard (70 page)

‘That’s an obscure strategy,’ Wulfrick mused cryptically.

‘What is?’ asked Halla.

‘Well, if you could shepherd a bunch of trolls south, we could unleash them at the Ro.’ The laughter caused by this comment was loud and echoing, sending a good-humoured ripple across the camp. ‘I bet they’d enjoy eating steel plate armour.’

‘Wouldn’t the scrawny southern bastards get stuck in their teeth?’ Falling Cloud joked. ‘A troll with indigestion… not a pretty sight, I’d bet.’

The laughter continued well into twilight and Halla found herself enjoying the company of these men. They’d all lost their family and friends to the traitorous lord of Jarvik or to the Krakens, but despite their circumstances the men of Fjorlan were upbeat and glad simply to be alive. Wulfrick was just about recognizable once again as the boisterous axe-master he’d been before, and Halla thought him more focused and driven than he had been a week ago. The loss of his thain was still a topic of conversation, but he’d ceased to be offended when Halla told him to shut up, and now she regarded him as a valuable ally rather than a brooding deadweight. If they were to return home and bring Rulag Ursa to justice, the group would need their most fearsome warrior – and no one denied that Wulfrick had a totemic quality with his axe in hand.

She had also learned from Oleff the reason why Wulfrick had no family name – an anomaly among the Fjorlanders, who were traditionally very concerned with their family heritage. Halla was proud to be a Summer Wolf, just as Rexel was proud to be a Falling Cloud. Wulfrick, however, was only ever called by his first name and Halla had been told not to ask the reason for this. The story, apparently, was that Wulfrick the Enraged, son of Lars the Enraged, had been destined for greatness until his father had led a failed coup against Ragnar Teardrop and had been executed. Wulfrick had been spared, but he had had to pledge his life to serve the family of Teardrop. He’d given up his father’s name as a way of wiping away the dishonour. In Halla’s estimation, this also explained his fanaticism about serving Algenon and his children, and the extent of his indignation at Rulag’s treachery.

She looked across the fire at the dark, bearded face of the axe-master and found herself valuing his presence. At the back of her mind was a half-whispered comment she’d heard just after they had left the beach. A young man from Hammerfall had said to a companion, ‘We’ll be okay, Wulfrick is still with us.’ Halla knew that this sentiment was shared by others and she knew that her group would be much less intimidating without the huge axe-man.

‘It’ll be warmer tomorrow,’ Falling Cloud said absently after the laughter had died down and night had begun to fall. ‘Hopefully, Wraith Company can lay on a hearty meal for us. I think my belly may stop talking to me if I don’t give it some meat soon.’

Halla smiled and realized that she too was starving. ‘What do we have left?’

‘Not much,’ he replied. ‘A few sacks of nettles and mushrooms, nothing too nutritious. We’re okay for rainwater, but men need food as well as drink… women too. You all right?’

She was a little surprised at the show of concern and realized her sex had not been an issue since the shipwreck. She’d just been one of the men – in fact, she’d been in charge of the men, and if any doubted her abilities, they’d kept it quiet.

‘I’m as fine as you… but thank you for the concern,’ she said, scratching behind her eyepatch. Halla had found her missing eye grow more and more itchy over the past few days and she wondered if it was a nervous tic bought on by the unexpected command.

Just as they were beginning to settle down against the rocks, a distant sound was heard across the camp. It was far away, but it was like the noise of an impact, perhaps a landslide or stone striking stone.

Faces looked up from low-burning campfires and Halla perceived questioning looks on the faces of her men. No one said anything at first and they all listened as another sound was heard in the distance. A whistle followed by a dull impact. It wasn’t a loud noise, but it carried across the still night air of the Grass Sea.

‘Where’s Oleff?’ Halla asked Falling Cloud.

‘He took a handful of men to higher ground, scouting for tomorrow.’ He pointed to a jutting rocky promontory, just visible in the distance. ‘He left a few hours ago. High places are rare around here and I think he wanted to make sure there weren’t any surprises.’

Halla considered and quickly decided to go and investigate. ‘Falling Cloud, stay here. Wulfrick, come with me. Let’s go and find out what we can see.’

Neither of the men argued and Wulfrick swiftly picked up his axe and accompanied her through the rocky pinnacles. They passed small campfires and groups of Ranen shaken from their dozing by the same distant sound.

‘Easy, lads,’ Wulfrick said quietly, as they passed a group preparing to put on their armour. ‘No alarms just yet.’

Halla received respectful nods of acknowledgement as they made their way through the camp and out on to the plain beyond. The promontory was still a distance away and Halla broke into a gentle run to cover the ground quickly.

Darkness had now descended and the Grass Sea was mist-shrouded and sinister-looking, dewy and wet underfoot, with little in the way of landmarks save for the jutting rocks ahead of them.

‘Falling Cloud thinks we’ll sight Ro Hail tomorrow,’ Halla said to Wulfrick as they jogged across the plain. ‘I’ve never been there.’

‘I went once long ago. It was little more than a ruin, from what I remember. The men of Wraith lived in tunnels beneath the city and didn’t bother about repairing the place,’ Wulfrick responded, as he hefted his axe across his shoulders to run with greater ease. ‘They’ll be surprised to see us, though.’

‘As long as they’re not too surprised to offer us food.’ Halla knew the men were counting on Wraith Company to supply them with provisions and rest, and she prayed their hope was not misplaced.

As they neared the rocks, Halla could see a small figure climbing down and moving towards them. He was making little effort to be stealthy and was running with a degree of urgency. She turned to Wulfrick and saw his eyes narrow with interest as the figure approached.

‘Lady Summer Wolf,’ the Ranen man said, clearly a little agitated. ‘Oleff sent me to get you.’

‘Well, you’ve got me. What’s the noise?’ she asked.

‘You’d better come and see. Follow me.’ He quickly spun round and ran back to the rocks.

‘Should we be concerned?’ Wulfrick asked as they sped up.

‘Just follow me,’ the man repeated.

At the foot of the promontory, Halla looked up and saw jagged rocks running in a line across her field of vision. There were small, irregular trees sprouting along the top, providing cover for Oleff’s scouts, and numerous little crannies that made climbing relatively simple.

She got a firm handhold and pulled herself up. It was a short climb and by the time they’d reached the top she could tell why Oleff had chosen this for a scouting point. It was the highest ground anywhere within sight, and she could see the vast plains of the realm of Wraith stretching out on all sides.

Crouching down, she moved slowly through the trees, aware of the huge figure of Wulfrick behind her. He was finding it more difficult to haul his massive body through the trees and she could hear whispered swear words as he caught himself on some thorns.

‘Halla, is that you?’ asked a voice from a little way through the trees.

‘Oleff…’ she replied by way of greeting, as she joined the chain-master behind a rocky protrusion facing south-east.

Wulfrick came to crouch next to her and they both looked with astonishment at the source of the noise that had aroused them.

Across the Grass Sea, a few hundred paces distant, was a mass of campfires. Tents and fortifications for several thousand men had been set up on the plains and Halla gasped as she saw the fluttering banner of the Red knights of Ro flying overhead. There were other banners she didn’t recognize, and siege equipment was visible at the front of the camp. Holding her breath, Halla surveyed the scene before her. The low walled shape of a city was just visible in the distance and the encircling army had begun to hurl huge rocks against the walls, which made a whistling sound as they sped through the air and a dull thud as they struck stone.

‘Rowanoco save us,’ whispered Wulfrick. ‘That’s Ro Hail.’

The city of Wraith Company was under siege by an army of knights of the Red, its walls battered by huge boulders and its defenders nowhere to be seen.

The camp was vast but was now largely deserted as the majority of the troops had been committed to encircling the town. Halla had never seen so many knights in one place, and as she looked over the wide circle set back from Ro Hail, she turned to Oleff and asked in a whisper, ‘How many are there?’

‘Five thousand, by my reckoning. Mostly knights, but there are Purple clerics and a detachment of king’s guard as well,’ he answered, without taking his eyes from the siege.

‘King’s guard?’ questioned Wulfrick. ‘What are they doing here?’

Oleff pointed to the other banners flying over the camp. ‘You see the white bird on that flag? That’s the banner of King Sebastian Tiris.’

Halla directed her one eye back towards the camp and could see only a very few armoured men around several large pavilion tents. Wulfrick was directing his gaze at the king’s heraldry and a look of anger had come over his face.

‘The king of Tor Funweir has marched into the Grass Sea?’ he asked through gritted teeth. ‘Such a thing has not happened for two hundred years.’

All Fjorlanders shared a common knowledge of the ages their southern brethren had spent under the yoke of Ro occupation and all were deeply offended by the notion that it might happen again. Wulfrick was clenching his fists and Halla even saw him reach for the comforting grip of his axe. The huge axe-master of Fredericksand inched forward and craned his neck to see better.

‘The Wraith men are trapped… these Ro bastards will starve them out, bombard them till they can’t hold the walls and then slowly sweep it clear.’ He was clearly itching to get involved. ‘Ro battle tactics rely on numbers, and cowardice will see you through… Wraith Company will fall without having had a chance to fight.’

Oleff and Wulfrick embarked on a lengthy tirade against the dishonourable tactics of the Ro, making each other more and more angry at their own helplessness.

Halla tuned out their whispers as an idea began to form. She turned away from the town and tried to focus on the camp below them. Few fires were visible, except around the pavilions, and she guessed that the knights surrounding Ro Hail would camp in their current positions, maintaining the siege for as long as necessary. An occasional suit of golden armour was visible, glinting in the moonlight through the tents, as she tried to assess the numbers remaining in the camp. Judging by the few fires and the ceremonial look of the gold-armoured guardsmen, Halla thought that only the king’s personal guard was left – no more than three hundred men, maybe fewer. Of most interest, however, were the additional ballistae and catapults that stood unused at the edges of the camp. They had no crews but at least one looked as if it were loaded and ready to fire. It looked as if the artillery being used against the town comprised mostly short-range engines designed to breach defences, while the larger contraptions left at the camp were taller and could hurl rocks much further.

‘I have an idea,’ she said quietly, causing the two men to stop talking and turn to her. ‘Wulfrick, return to the pinnacles and muster the men. Arms and light armour only, we need to be stealthy.’

He looked confused. ‘Halla, I’m all for facing overwhelming odds, but attacking those knights is suicide.’

‘I don’t think we should attack those knights,’ she responded, pointing at the city. ‘I think we should attack
those
knights.’ She then pointed with a grin at the king’s camp. ‘The king won’t actually be involved in the siege, no?’

Oleff shook his head. ‘I imagine he’ll be sipping wine in front of his tent and being told how clever he is by the Purple clerics.’

‘And we could end this siege swiftly if we were to capture him, yes?’ she asked with a tone of authority in her voice.

The two men realized what she planned and Wulfrick bit his lip to stop himself erupting into a vicious laugh.

‘Aleph Summer Wolf is alive and well and talking to us through his daughter,’ he said with a broad smile.

‘No, he’s dead and the voice you hear is Halla Summer Wolf, axe-maiden of Rowanoco and lady of Tiergarten,’ she responded with pride.

Wulfrick smiled. ‘Yes, my lady.’

Oleff peered across the dark plain towards the camp, assessing their strength. ‘If we move around these rocks and come at them directly east, we’ll be masked by darkness, mist and those boulders. If we keep quiet, they won’t know what’s hit them.’ He turned to Halla. ‘I’m impressed, my lady. The camp’s just far enough from the siege that it’s doubtful the body of knights will notice us killing their men.’

‘Wait until you hear the plan for those catapults the knights have so carelessly left unmanned.’ Halla had counted ten catapults and five ballistae, enough to cause real damage to the besieging knights. ‘Oleff, you’ll take twenty men to the artillery and, once we have the king, you’ll announce our presence to the army. Thin their ranks as much as you can before falling back to our position.’

This elicited a menacing chuckle from all three of them, and Halla was gratified that they didn’t question her orders or try to usurp the command now that battle was planned.

‘And if the king isn’t cooperative, I’ll start cutting off fingers till he is,’ said Wulfrick, clutching his axe menacingly.

Halla directed a hard look at Wulfrick. ‘I gave you orders, axe-master… what are you still doing here?’ The hard look turned into a smile as Wulfrick banged his fist on his chest in salute and backed away. ‘Bring them to the base of the rocks… remember, no heavy armour, we need to be quiet until the last possible moment.’

Halla kept a watchful eye on the scene before her, trying not to think about all the things that could go wrong with her plan. If capturing the king allowed the people of Wraith Company to escape east to the other Free Companies, she’d still have the issue of where to take her own men. Halla had no doubt that the king of Tor Funweir would place his own survival before that of his knights, but she suspected they’d have to keep him hostage for long enough to secure the escape of all the Ranen. Ultimately, the Fjorlanders needed to head north to the Deep Cross and to be pursued by five thousand Ro would not make the journey a pleasant one. The alternative was to give the monarch to Wraith Company as they moved east, practically ensuring that the Ro would follow in that direction. The simple conclusion was that, wherever the hostage was taken, the army of Red knights would surely follow.