The High King: A Tale of Alus (18 page)

Merrick smiled wryly, "As I said, you worry too much, but you are also right about one thing. Once I've defeated Cadmene, I will be pressing onto the next conquest. Sileoth and then Maris will fall to me. One day soon enough, all of the North Continent will be mine."

Despite Lord Merrick's assumptions about the battle, Krulir's worries soon manifested in Cadmene.
The very next battle King Terris' knights lined up their mounts and charged as if the previous battle had never occurred. They bore down on the gargoyle contingent once again, but this time as they closed the distance between the two forces, the horses would not panic. Their riders had been ordered to place muzzles holding sweet smelling spices and herbs over their nostrils and doing so prevented the animals from scenting the smells of the gargoyles. Not noticing the off worldly scent, the horses treated them as they would any force of man.
The gargoyles had been prepared for such a possibility though and their shields took the brunt of the leveled lances. They took heavy casualties even so as they tried to hold their ground. The battle lasted more than an hour this day and when it was over and the two sides left to nurse their wounds, nearly half the gargoyles had been wounded or slain. A large portion of the knights lay dead or dying around them, definite proof of the alien creatures' incredible power in battle. Mounts and men alike had fallen by the hundreds before the great forces of infantry had even collided. Both countries had met in battle to either side of the fray respecting the more powerful warriors of their armies.
When the end of the hour drew near, it was plain to see that Marshalla was gaining the upper hand. The knights had done most of the damage to the gargoyles in their initial charge. When it returned to close fighting between those forces and the foot soldiers straggling into their battle, even with lesser numbers the gargoyles' proved the strength of their arms could defeat any number of men. As more and more of the elite knights fell and infantry of both nations tore at each other
ferociously, the pipes of Cadmene were forced to call a sad retreat. The troops broke from each other gratefully as many sank to their knees in exhaustion.
Atop a hill surveying the battlefield, one of Merrick's generals asked of his lord, "Shall we give chase, my lord?"
The ambitious leader took a moment before shaking his head, "No, they are retreating towards the castle at Knaria. It matters little if more fall in
skirmishing numbers on the way, when the castle and its king are my true goal."
With such a decision made, the generals set about getting their armies back to camp where attention could be given to the wounded and the men could eat or sleep. Some soldiers seemed to find a way to do both as they sank forward over half emptied plates. The men of Marshalla were tired to the core as they knew that their enemy must be as well.
Only about an hour after breaking from battle, Merrick found himself having to face Kar'esh, the leader of his gargoyles. The king was given almost no warning since the gargoyle had all but ignored the honor guard of humans flanking the opening of the field tent. Merrick noticed a difference in the creature immediately. Normally seeming full of energy and possessed of great power, the gargoyle now appeared as haggard and weary as any of the human soldiers preparing to sleep in the camp after such a prolonged battle.
The stony gravel of the winged creature's voice seemed to rasp even more harshly as Kar'esh stated, "We will need to be reinforced before the next battle if you expect my mar'goyn'lya to act as the core of strength for this army, Merrick. Many were injured or even killed by these horsemen sent against us. We may have slain many of them, but they still have another legion to use against us. My warriors will surely fall if we face such odds as we are and neither of us would like such a thing to happen."
"True enough," Merrick replied as if he had not heard the thinly veiled threat of the creature's words. He eyed Kar'esh calculatingly. Caution was needed, so he quested for the leader's thoughts, "What would you suggest for reinforcements, Kar'esh?"
The gargoyle seemed impassive though Merrick could feel the creature's eyes focus that much harder with its wariness. His voice deepened as he responded, "It would take sixty more mar'goyn'lya to equal the strength that we have lost this day. Another fifty would swing the balance of power fully to our favor and thus reduce our losses due to our greater strength."
"Over one hundred of your kind?" Merrick barely held in his gasp at such an incredible number. "I hardly think that my sorcerers will have the strength needed to bring so many in such a short time, Kar'esh. Perhaps you can think of an easier alternative in mind? I could always call for more of my men to join the war here." He peered over braced fingers trying to appear nonchalant in his comfortable field chair. Though he watched for any trace of reaction to his statement, the gargoyle failed to betray his thoughts.
A moment later, the gargoyle ventured to say, "There is perhaps one more possibility. We both know that your soldiers would not fare well against these horsemen and that means that we'll need raw power. Perhaps I can shorten the length of time needed to use the portals, if they can make it larger. They'll need to find an area greater than the little dungeon that they have been using to bring over my people. Is such a thing possible, Lord Merrick?" The creature's tone remained even showing no concern as to the answer of his thoughts, but Merrick sensed that Kar'esh truly worried that his soldiers would suffer if the answer was no.
The High King couldn't stop himself from smiling coldly, "Probably so, though I would need to check, of course, and also know the reason why. Continue with your thoughts."
Kar'esh continued unperturbed, "We have another race on our world that we have allied ourselves with in our need. They are great, scaled beasts with fair intelligence and remarkable fighting instincts, though their greatest assets are their size and strength. The che'ther, as we call them, grow to be nearly five times the size of a full grown mar'goyn'lya warrior and have near that kind of strength to match. Before our races finally came into an alliance, which was many millennia ago, our two races fought bitterly for survival as each tried to kill the other. We had the air as our ally while their great strength mastered the earth. It wasn't until we finally learned each others' language before our ancestors could bridge the gap.
"If you could bring over half a dozen of the che'ther, the enemy may simply flee before us. Their presence alone may drive away their puny warriors. Then there would be time to bring more of my people for the next war."
Lord Merrick nodded appreciatively though he didn't allow the last words to leave before catching the gargoyle's intentions. He answered carefully then, "Interesting, yes, but how do I know that they'll cooperate with my army here? Their presence may unnerve my men as well, if they betray us. After all, our pact was not made with them."
"They will not betray you, Merrick. They know of this world and would fight well just for a place where food was more abundant. You could trust them to fulfill any contract that you made. They are intelligent and an honorable race."
The lord sat awhile as the enormous presence stood as still as the stone he sometimes appeared to be hewn from. Considering the possibilities of a race that had been powerful enough to drive the gargoyles into the sky, he also allowed himself to notice the way that the gargoyle leader had begun to use his name so familiarly. The High King demanded respect and even the gargoyle would need to obey such a need. Pushing the thought away for a later time of thought, Merrick came to a conclusion which he stated aloud, "If you have no other options, then I shall send word to my sorcerers to consider which idea would be the most possible. You are dismissed, Kar'esh," the king said with a wave of his hand as if the creature were a simple servant. "Go eat something and see to the health of your troops. I need them all healthy as much as you do."
The gargoyle hesitated upon being dismissed so easily giving Merrick the satisfaction of putting the beast back in his place. He also noticed an expression that the man took for rebelliousness in the alien's eyes before the giant turned on his heels and left the lord to his tent. Nodding slightly again at the space where the gargoyle had been, a small smile crossed his face. Though he had power over Kar'esh, he was beginning to believe that one day the leader was going to prove too cumbersome to use. Plans had been conceived of already for such an occasion. After perusing them a moment, Merrick signaled for a messenger. He would go through with Kar'esh's ideas, but only if they suited Merrick's needs.

Rounding the corner at a full run, Gerid crashed into a new batch of defenders nearly bowling them over in the process. More than a score of soldiers surrounded him instantly and well before his band of men, who were still setting fires nearby, had a chance to catch back up with him. The cries of `it's him!' began passing through the guardsmen even as Gerid dropped his torch in favor of a second sword to confront them. They still had the advantage of numbers and the lieutenant had no wall to guard his back with men all around him. His swords flashed dully with the glow of the fires spreading through the city behind him as he decided to meet their weapons with wild abandon.

The soldier knew that they had him and that death had finally caught up to him this moment.
Five of the men were falling lifeless before they scarcely realized that the monster was among them. With the surprise of action, Gerid wondered if he could escape death after all.
The guardsmen finally chose to rally and attack as one. They had the superior numbers and he was only one man. From all directions, the frightened soldiers stabbed with their swords trying to skewer him. He attempted to fend them off, but not even his
swordsmanship could hope to fend off so many attackers at once. A single sword blade came through and buried itself into his heart. Before stumbling to fall to his knees, the killer was joining him in death, but strangely, when the giant should have felt his life ebbing away, only the great pain was felt. Gerid did not die as the men all looked upon his kneeling form.
Grabbing hold of the sword's grip, the giant man pulled the blade from his chest with a sickening slurp and a small spurt of blood. With the metal pulled free, Gerid was able to draw a wet, ragged breath. Like a ghost, the man stood back upright though his eyes were still filled with pain. The soldier before him, who could see into the bloody wound, passed out from his defiance of death. "You'll have to do better than that," Gerid said coughing up a little blood. He didn't know how long his strength would last and hoped that his men could find a way to save his life soon.
"A demon!" a man towards the back screamed in fear and ran as if the demons of lore chased him now. His sword fell forgotten from his nerveless hands.
"No!" an older man, a sergeant by his insignia, cried to his men angrily. "Surely this is a god! See how he bleeds, but yet he refuses death?" The man came forward and bowed down before Gerid who was still expecting weakness to find him. "Please tell us your name that we might worship and praise you, Great War god."
Gerid was taken aback momentarily. First of all, he wasn't dying it seemed and ever the one to take quick advantage, the man answered, "I am Gerid, though I doubt that I should be called a god. It does appear that Turas has chosen me to be his undying warrior. If you don't wish to suffer my undying wrath, you had better drop your weapons and surrender!"
"Of course, my lord," the sergeant replied faithfully, "though I would gladly use my sword to fight alongside of you, if you would permit your humble servant to do so, my lord."
Most of his men murmured agreement, even as they prepared to surrender their weapons. Gerid considered these superstitious men and their offer. Deciding to accept the proposal, he halted them with a gesture saying, "Put your weapons in their sheathes, if you wish to follow me. Whenever you see the men of Rhearden, you will leave them there. Do this and I will accept your pledges of allegiance. Now come, men, I have work to finish here." As a dozen men fell in with Gerid and even helped light several more fires as they continued their trek through the city, the lieutenant wondered what he would do with them after the battle was done.
With his squad and the new men following him, Gerid began to bring them in a gradual path back towards the southern gate when a half dozen soldiers clumsily crossed their path. Upon seeing the giant's white hair, the men threw their blades at his feet and dropped to their knees. "Spare us, sir! We are loyal citizens of Rhearden, who have been forced to fight for those who control our city."
"Finneas," he called behind him to the newly pledged sergeant, "why would these troops of Rhearden still be serving here?" Gerid looked at the men somewhat suspiciously, though they would have had to be excellent actors to appear so obeisant.
"Ah, these men are telling the truth, my lord. The commander who took this town has taken hundreds of families as workers and hostages. There are nearly a hundred soldiers who have been forced to fight in our ranks or risk having their families slain."
Growing angry at such an idea, Gerid had to bring himself back to the matters at hand. "Pick up your swords, gentlemen," he ordered. "If you wish to leave this city alive that you might try and save your families, you'll need to use them."
"Yes, sir," their leader said in shock, "but I am surprised that you believe us so readily. We served the enemy. Aren't you worried that we won't honor our part of this bargain?"
"The great Gerid has no need to fear one such as you," Finneas snorted in disdain. "He is immortal, a child of the gods. No man can kill him. I've seen as much with my own eyes."
"Not now, Finneas," Gerid admonished feeling embarrassed by such a tale. "I assume that you men would rather fight than die here?"
"Our deaths would mean nothing to our enslavers, sir. We can only hope to save our families by living long enough to free them as you’ve said," their spokesman answered as the other men nodded.
"They'll never notice a few missing men, " Gerid nodded. "Besides I doubt that any of these Enswerians will live to have the chance to tell. Follow us then. We'll soon be free of this city or own it. Before we go though, do you know where the other soldiers of Brahe are being kept and if they feel as you do?"
"They're not far from here and I believe that they will fight for you."
"All right, show me the way," Gerid ordered and let the Brahe soldier lead his command away from their southern destination. He could hardly hold back his glee at the thought of using even more of Enswere's resources against them. It was yet another way to inflict losses on the enemy.
It took only a few minutes to find the long, low building made of brick that housed the Brahene men. As they arrived at the place, Gerid stopped and thought he could already hear the sounds of distant battle. The faint cries of men and the high pitched clanging of metal was coming from all around them and looking to the lightening skies above, he knew that dawn had started the war outside the walls. Rhearden was on the attack and Gerid just hoped that his men were able to complete their missions. "Laiad, Braighen, follow me inside. The rest of you secure the perimeter." Turning to the man of Brahe, he gestured to the door, "Lead on, Mateir."
Upon entering the barracks, they found two score of those that they had come for with a dozen soldiers from Enswere. Mateir tried to stop Gerid from entering, but it was too late. The soldiers spotted his large bulk in the frame of the door and shouted, "It's him!" and attacked with whatever weapon came to hand. The city guardsmen stayed their hands just watching for the outcome as Gerid, flanked by the three men, tore apart the soldiers before them. Three of those men panicked as they witnessed their comrades cut to pieces and rushed out a side door, but Gerid ignored them. He knew that his men wouldn't allow their escape.
Turning to the stunned men of Brahe, who appeared unsure of whether to cheer or fight, Gerid proclaimed, "If you men want to fight for your freedom, follow me!"
It was with nearly eighty men that Gerid now ran towards the south gate. They were a full company by Rhearden standards and a force to be reckoned with, especially with Gerid leading them, if he continued to survive his wounds. His men crossed paths with several large units of the enemy who, caught by surprise as they were, were quickly shattered by the passionately swung blades of Gerid and his men. No skirmish seemed to last more than a few minutes and he knew that soon they would have to run into a substantial force of Enswerians preparing to defend the outer walls of the city. They were nearing the last few bends of the street leading outside and Gerid kept watch for it.
The unique set up of the streets of Brahe was also a hindrance to his men as they ran outward from the center. His ears could hear the sounds of battle in strange echoes from all around making it seem that the war was quite close, but still the bends kept the sight from them. He realized that the design would help the defenders immensely, in that they could set ambushes of hundreds of men with the enemy none the wiser. It was a good way to defend the city if there was time to prepare, but it could work the other way as well. When the enemy was within already, they could sneak up from behind.
His command used that advantage in their favor as they set upon more than a hundred men that had tucked themselves in a bend just outside the battle near the gate. With a startling battle cry "For Rhearden!", Gerid and his men charged straight into them. The enemy was so surprised that his men left not a one standing after only seconds.
With the ambushers dead, Gerid halted his men that they might all regain their breath. He set guards before and after so that they would not fall to the same tactic that had taken his enemies. As the half dozen moved off to their positions, Gerid called over the Enswerian sergeant, Finneas. "Do you know of other traps like this one set in the city?" he asked thinking ahead of the answer.
"Yes, my lord, each gate has at least one hidden beyond it on the main thoroughfare leading into the city. There are most likely other smaller ones that will happen spontaneously since dozens of men were sent into the city to chase after you and your men. After they stop the fires, I'm sure that they'll move towards the outer walls to defend the city."
"Can you lead me to the others in the quickest way?"
"I know where they are approximately, of course, but it is hard to be sure if their commanders will have moved them again by the time we arrive. I'm also not sure of what streets will wind up dead ends, if we rush across the side streets." He looked apologetically at Gerid and summed up the reply with, "I haven't lived in this city that long."
Gerid nodded and called over his shoulder, "Mateir! Do you know the city streets well enough to lead us across to the next gate and its ambush parties? I would want the quickest route, of course."
"I know my city well enough, yes sir. Which one will you need to go to then?"
After checking to see that the southern gate was still open and his men secure in their guard tower, Gerid led his men on a swift chase through the city. Having seen the chaos that awaited them near the gates, the men were more than willing to follow him through mostly deserted streets to the far off eastern gate. He had mistakenly worried that being trapped inside the city would dampen their spirits, but Gerid had also allowed them all to see the war raging in the yards near the open gate. None of the men seemed affected, in fact, the morale seemed even higher than before since they all knew how important their fights would be. With his original followers and the passionate Finneas to help bolster their confidences, the company moved enthusiastically after the next ambush.
Over the next hour, they hit three small bands of the enemy and crushed the main ambush behind the east gate. Gerid allowed the men to rest once again. It had been a long, running march and several minutes of intense fighting. He looked at the men surrounding him. Though his troops were conditioned to hit and run fighting as were most of Rhearden's mercenary forces from this summer’s fighting, the men of Brahe and Enswere were beginning to show definite signs of fatigue. They found a deserted inn nearby with a cooler of food set in the kitchen floor and a pantry stuffed with even more stores. Starving from their exertion, the men ate quickly and well.
After nearly an hour of rest, they could hear the fighting moving much closer. The increasing loudness alone told them how close the battle must be due to the annoying echoes of the streets. Gerid looked to their faces. Looks of worry and determination could be found moving through all of them. He moved to stand before them confidently and stated, "We are the best fed and most rested troops in this city at the moment, gentlemen. Do you expect your liberators to fight all day and give their lives to just fall to another ambush? There are still two large divisions hidden beyond the other gates. Will you follow me now so that we can win this war that much sooner"
All of the men stood as one to draw their swords and strap on their shields. Finneas spoke for them all as he said, "You should know that you have only to ask, m' lord. Besides, with you spearheading our attacks, we do little more than clean up what you leave behind. Lead on, m' lord," the man concluded with a gesture towards the doorway.
"Lead on, m'lord!" the men cheered gleefully around him.
Not one to waste time, Gerid and his men moved out once again into the side streets. The next gate in the circle held the north tower where Sergeant Ulius and his platoon should be if their mission had gone well. Sounds of battle were indeed getting closer to the edges of the town. On two occasions, they found two of the smaller ambush groups locked in battle with Rhearden’s soldiers. Gerid and his men swept in long enough to reinforce their comrades and dispatch the Enswerians before pushing on again. Even so, he could tell that they were running just ahead of the main battles now.
Gerid had pushed them hard and gained several more Rhearden soldiers along the way. It was just enough to spring their attack on the main force of Enswere where they lay in wait. The enemy force was quite large here and luckily was taken totally by surprise. Prepared for the nearing battle from their front where the noise of war was quite loud, Gerid and his troops had torn through nearly half their number before a new clashing of arms could be heard by the front line of Enswerians. Even as his men were finishing off the enemy soldiers, a rushing wave of men flooded the street with both struggling armies.
"Finneas," Gerid called and motioned for the rest of the men to join them also, "keep your men near my squad. If a Rhearden man sees you, he'll only think the worst. Paleas, join up with our new allies as peacefully as possible," he ordered his sergeant as the melee threatened to engulf his command.
"Try and stay together, men! We are the rock and the rest will be the hard place for the enemy," Finneas added to the men around him.
The war quickly raged all around them. After the initial surprise of having found their ambush slain, the enemy soldiers gritted their teeth and fought for their lives. Battling in and out of buildings, finding alleys and side streets to form up a defense, the Enswerians fought hard against the unforgiving blades of Rhearden. They soon knew that they could hardly hope to win against such odds and the matter became one of survival. They were simply outmatched. With Gerid and his men holding ground stubbornly on one side and their pursuers crushing blades cutting at their rear and flanks, the surviving soldiers soon found themselves in positions of surrender.