The High King: A Tale of Alus (56 page)

Merrick and his generals sat their horses on a hill to the north taking in the sight. “They must be getting low on supplies or perhaps they have merely grown sick of running,” the High King stated in near triumph. “That appears to be nearly everything they have left am I not correct, generals?”

“All but those turn coat knights, sire,” General Bragus stated surprisingly quickly. The generals had all been on egg shells since the disappearance of Kar’esh’s forces. This apparent last stand had lightened Merrick’s mood enough that they once more felt reasonably secure in giving their opinions, though should they lose now, none would live with failure. “They are staged uphill giving them a slight advantage and they may have stashed the knights in the hills for a surprise charge. We can counter them easily with keeping the long spear corps on either flank if we wish to charge them, your highness.”

“We could send smaller divisions into the hills to flush them out or even catch them by surprise. Perhaps we’ll catch them by surprise or there may be none at all, then it will be our forces that can use the hills to destroy their flanks,” General Mairgar added contemplating the possibility of two thousand knights hidden in the forests.

General Komus nodded adding, “We have them out numbered more than two to one. There are five golems at their center so their wizards must have survived enough to assist with those. We can send troops with rope and snare their legs ending their threats quick enough. There is the possibility of them running away once more, of course. If we follow Mairgar’s tactics and flank our enemy while flushing out any ambushes, then we may finally catch them in our own trap.”

The High King looked contemplative a long moment. “So we can expect a trap or possible feint. Let’s send enough men through both sets of hills that nothing they can hide can hope to defeat them. Have the most portable catapults brought down to knock those statues to pieces.

“I will end this today. The flanking armies will be given time to get around the enemy while we assemble the main army opposing them. If we can distract them with our main forces, we might get our own trap to spring,” Merrick finished looking determined.

Mairgar and Bragus moved to the chosen divisions to begin the first moves even as Komus waited with the high king.

The bronze rose flew from the banners of the mass assembled across the valley from the allied armies. Horses drew eight sizable catapults of a wheeled design meant to be portable enough to take into the field. Towering pieces, the catapults had wagons of large stone ready to assault the monoliths facing them from the enemy force. Drums and horns began to play from the back of the Marshallan lines and soon the mass began to move to the beats. Clad in brown and bearing the bronze or yellow rose on their chests, it was like the earth itself rolled towards the allies.

Acting as if the hills were not alive with their fellow soldiers, the Marshallan army pressed forward with their eyes on the enemy at the far end. The allies in response bristled into life. The assembly of drummers and flutes in Maris and Sileoth’s lines set the cadence to move forward as well.

Merrick smiled. Even with sending nearly ten thousand troops in the two armies to the hills, his army still appeared to nearly double the pathetic forces arrayed against him. He would win or they would run again, but he hoped his armies had moved far enough to make their way into a pincer that would not let go until nothing remained of his enemies.

Looking to the sun, it was nearing midday. The two armies closed leaving merely a quarter mile between them and paused. In the wait, the first of the catapults launched the first stones to end the war.

General Bragus led his five thousand men from the safety of the rear. Using his spyglass along with his captains and lieutenants, he noticed a gleam from armor not quite dulled enough to be missed for those looking. A grim smile crossed his face. Giving orders quietly, the division changed course and spread itself out to widen their lines. Another glint from a little ways from the first let him know that he was judging correctly.

Wanting to shout, the men held their voices until they were nearly upon their quarry. Men could be seen on horseback. The knights had hidden in wait as they thought. The horsemen would be doomed in this brush.

The signal was given and the men rushed towards the visible knights and those hidden. Horsemen could be seen to react and turn. This was no new ruse to the general. He had them now despite their attempt to retreat and if there were more in the southern hills he knew Mairgar would do his best to catch them as well.

Shouts rang out. Metal clanged and then the screams of dying men. The knights still sat their horses. Bragus suddenly felt worry. How could they sit their steeds so calmly when five thousand men were attacking them?

The brush around him suddenly came alive. Soldiers in partially concealed red armor were suddenly in their midst killing his men. Drawing their own weapons, the general and his guards found themselves in a fight to the death as more and more red soldiers seemed to drop among them.

From straight ahead of the general, a vision of a white haired giant reared up. He wore no helmet. The monster needed none as his battleaxe cut a swath of destruction through the brown armored soldiers around him. Like an executioner’s axe, the giant tore through the screaming men heedless of the blood and flesh spraying before him.

Whitening with fear, Bragus ran. None of his soldiers or guards tried to stop him. Their general was lost in the chaos of a routed army. Blindly, the remainder of the northern hill division ran to try and save their lives.

Glinting from the hilltops, a light played in measured marks. Terris spotted first the light from the north confirming their ambush succeeded, and then the south began to send its similar message.

The drums played. The flutes trilled valiantly and Terris nodded to General Falack to proceed.
From behind the relative safety of the front lines, nearly three thousand archers raised their long bows and let fly. So strong were the bows, that despite their distance from the enemy, the Maris bowmen sent their cloud of arrows across the space and the soldiers of Marshalla were forced to raise shields against the volley of deadly shafts.
Another rock sped across the way to batter a golem. The giant piece of animated stone swatted the boulder as it neared, but the creature still paid a price. Soldiers too near the impact received shards of stone shrapnel gleaned from boulder and statue both.
New signals started the army into a march of readied warriors. Shields up and swords in hand, the first wave of allied soldiers chased down the slight hill. The Marshallans recovered from the first volley of arrows and surged forward to meet their enemies.
A second swarm darkened the skies forcing the men to raise their shields even as they tried to run forward. More men were injured by the arrows. Many soldiers fell never to arise again.
Marshallan archers retaliated as their enemies entered their bows’ range taking down many more from the front line of their attackers.
Even as the two sides met with a crash, the hills to the south and north began to show movement. Soldiers in red poured down from both sides. Even as Merrick and Komus saw the new army running down the hills, it took a moment to realize what was happening. These were not the brown of the ten thousand. A new force had joined without their knowledge. Who they were mattered little. All the High King needed to know was that these were not his men and that meant a new enemy had arrived from nowhere to join his enemies.
“Archers attack the hills!” ordered the harried High King. “Komus, our ambushers have failed.”
The general looked pale. The enemy had baited them in and surprised them with numbers and troops they had not known about. Ten thousand men had gone up. Had they all fallen? Nearly a fifth of their army just gone and this new set of soldiers looked to be near a size of the allies forces as well.
“Knights!” voices cried out spotting the horsemen first on the one hill then on the other.
“There are more of them,” Merrick snarled. “How did they get more reinforcements? Those blasted Cadmene traitors!”
“Spearmen to the flanks!” the general ordered his men to signal the outer specialists into action.
The armies crashed together.
The knights saw the threat and continued to circle as the red armies caught up to the horsemen. The arrows hadn’t made much of a dent in their number by the time they met the Marshallan flanks. They tore into the regular soldiers that turned to meet them, but they spread quickly to attack the long spears. The specialists were forced to drop their awkward weapons or find their spears parried and shoved out of the way as the red army slashed through their defenses.
Arrows flew over head from all sides taking their toll on the interior numbers of the brown armor. The bronze roses turned red as more bled. The red army from the north was most vicious. Spearheaded by the white haired giant, they tore deep into the flank. The first of the catapults went inactive before catching fire, the flames serving to split the soldiers around them.
Gnashing his teeth in frustration, the High King glared at Komus. “Do something!” he snarled.
“These red soldiers are destroying our men. They’re better fighters than our own soldiers, at least the ones with the giant from the north are. I can call on the reserves to try and reinforce the north.”
“Do it already!” Merrick ordered in frustration. They still had the numbers. A golem was down to equal his burning catapult, he noticed.
The first of the Cadmene knights struck from the south. The spears all but neutralized, the lances sporting the blue and white streamers drove into the rear flank. The reserves were caught in the middle. Chaos erupted. The reinforcements were broken into less cohesive groups suddenly fighting red armored soldiers and the blue and white of the Cadmene knights.
The second catapult caught fire.
Two of the golems surged past the lines of the allies and struck the southern mass of the brown army. The catapults couldn’t load fast enough. Each of the golems disabled one of the portable rock throwers.
“Where are those blasted ropes?” Merrick cried out furious at Komus.
The general pointed. “They’ve begun to snare that one. The men need to work together to make them work.”
Three men holding a line were whipped into the air. Landing in the mass of the Marshallan army, they were quickly lost to sight. The ropes were being used too slowly on creatures many times stronger than men.
Another catapult was destroyed by a golem even as the northern red army set fire to their third. The brown of Marshalla tried to fill in behind the small band led by the white haired demon. Even surrounded, the forty or so soldiers continued to move through their enemies at the speed of the giant’s axe. No man could stand before the executioner’s blade for long. They were mere wheat to his scythe.
Arrows began to fall in from behind the High King’s army. Five hundred Blackguard archers used their black long bows and arrows while motley looking three thousand men armed with crossbows and cutlasses guarded them or fired into the rear most soldiers. The trap was fully sealed. Beset on all sides, Merrick watched as his men tried to defend from all directions and from within as the murderous giant and the golems continued to wade through their numbers.
The front lines continued to take injuries from allied longbow men. The flanks fought tooth and nail against red armored soldiers and Cadmene knights. More arrows and cross bolts continued to hurt their rear.
“Komus!” Merrick cried out wild eyed. Their numbers were failing. The trap was too well set.
Even as the general turned unsure eyes on his High King, a black arrow found its mark. Blood splattered onto Merrick from the wound through Komus’ neck. Gurgling in surprise, the man began choking on his own blood as his hands reached for the protruding shaft. Eyes rolling back in his head in seconds, the man fell from his horse.
Five golems roamed through the brown army crushing men beneath their stone feet or batting them with fists of multiple tons. The white haired demon and his men had no more catapults to worry over and began cutting their way straight through the heart of the army heading towards Merrick and his captains. No more generals to order or receive answers from now. The High King looked all around him for an answer.
Shouts and screams came from all around him as his answer, however. Blood sprayed the earth and onto other men. Bones were crushed. Arrows and blades kept adding to the death toll and the High King found he had nowhere to go. Surrounded and with his mighty army dying all around him, Merrick heard screaming in his ears. The voice was his own.

Terris watched as the battle slowly turned into a rout before him. His plans had worked perfectly. The hidden knights had drawn Merrick’s forces into the trap. Nearly four thousand knights had been protected by twelve thousand of Rhearden’s forces. An ambush of grand proportions since Terris had taken in the Marshallan generals’ knowledge of his renegade knights. That they had committed a fifth of their forces, he would learn later and be impressed by their attempt at outflanking his forces. It was an idea that he might have come up with if he had their superior numbers.

The use of long spears to either flank had been a ploy when Merrick had defeated Cadmene years earlier. Though the gargoyles had ensured their defeat, the long spears had taken their toll in those battles as well. Their reach negated even the long lances his knights carried and, if aimed lower, many a horse would die well before their knights could prevent it. But his men had been looking for them. Once more they relied on their new allies. The red armies were able to easily neutralize the spears and then his brave knights were able to have their way with them.

Iylin and his Black Guard, along with the pirate army, gave the final worry to the brown tide.
Smiling grimly, Terris actually was amazed at how well the armies had all worked together. Sileoth, Maris, Rhearden, pirates of Quardi and his own knights of Cadmene; so many nations and all with one goal, to defeat Merrick and end his evil.
Even from where he sat his mount with the generals, Terris could see where pockets of men had begun throwing down their weapons beseeching mercy. Many of these men had followed Merrick with little choice. Few had the cohesion and ability to flee as had his knights when he had called on them. Now they could see defeat was happening all around them and many took the opportunity to finally rest their swords.
When the first men began to surrender near the front lines, it seemed like a switch was thrown. Man by man quickly became units of platoon size, and then entire companies seemed to be dropping their weapons in surrender. Dozens changed to hundreds. There were those who refused and some even slew their own men to force them to fight on. Some of those were slain by their own men who refused to be bullied any further.
It was while this was happening that Merrick tried to rally his men behind him, but not to fight onward. Leading probably no more than a hundred men, the High King retreated towards the gap to the north of the pirates. His hundred became a thousand as the fight left the Marshallans. Some knew Merrick was fleeing, some only knew that others were going and they wished to save their necks as well.
Arrows flew towards the fleeing High King taking many of his men. The northern reserve of his knights launched towards the men catching them in the middle of their ragged line. Lances skewered many more men. Horses trampled others. Swords and maces were drawn to continue the death count until the remaining men lay down their weapons with many huddling on the ground hoping to simply avoid being killed by an arrow and sword.
The only ones to escape were the hundred men escorting Merrick with their horses. The men
disappeared into the forests leaving their comrades to fall or surrender.
In the aftermath, the allies worked to sort out what to do with their defeated enemies. Of the fifty thousand men, nearly half were still present and unarmed. Men came forward listing which country they came from before Merrick had drafted them. Cadmene and Sileoth took their own as captives and refugees both. Most of those men had been conscripted to fight and the loss meant they wished only to go back to their homes in their own countries.
The rest of the soldiers consisted of men of the shattered country of Caldor, a couple thousand from Staron, sent by their king and, of course, Marshalla. These had to be detained until Merrick could be captured. To that end, knights and horse men of Rhearden were sent to track him down. Terris thought he knew where Merrick would run, but the fallen High King would soon learn that he had nowhere to flee and no one to call on for support.