Abigail swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth and stabbed the point on the map where the first battle of Fellenden would be fought.
“There,” she said. “We’ll move to Bredon with haste, kill Zuhl’s scouts from the air, and attack with the full force of our infantry and archers. The cavalry will flank to the west and run north to cut off any escape. We won’t stop at Bredon any longer than we have to. The objective is to destroy this legion quickly and continue toward the shipyard.”
“If I may,” General Markos said.
“Of course, General,” Abigail replied.
“Perhaps we should systematically destroy the raiding legions before we move against the shipyard,” General Markos said. “That way, we won’t end up fighting on two fronts when the raiding legions learn of our presence and regroup to counterattack.”
“I considered that, General,” Abigail said, “but our first priority must be the shipyard, and we have to take it before winter sets in. I’m afraid that several engagements will cost us the time and manpower we’ll need to defeat Zuhl’s defenses at his main encampment.”
“Your strategy is risky,” General Markos said.
“I know, but it’s a necessary risk,” Abigail said. “I’m hoping we can destroy the enemy at the shipyard and take their defensive position for our own. From there, we can work the shipyard through the winter and hopefully have a few vessels of our own to lend to the battle come spring.”
“Perhaps we could divide our forces,” Conner said. “The people are suffering terribly. We could use the cavalry to go after the raiding legions while the infantry and archers move against the shipyard.”
“No,” Abigail said. “We’re going to keep our forces together as much as possible. Conner, I want to help the people of Fellenden, but not at the risk of failing to secure the shipyard. If Zuhl can hold it long enough to get his ships in the water, then no one will be safe. He’ll do to Ithilian and Ruatha what he did to Fellenden City.”
“I agree with Lady Abigail,” General Kern said. “But perhaps we could send some smaller teams to infiltrate the raiding legions, collect information about their leadership and objectives, and possibly find a way to disrupt their activities.”
“Volunteers only,” Abigail said. “If we can learn about them or hurt them without a direct fight, then I’m all for it, but I won’t send men on such a risky mission unless they ask to go.”
“I’ll put out the word,” General Kern said.
“Good,” Abigail said. “Anything else?”
“I suggest we attempt to make contact with those hiding in the Iron Oak Forest,” Magda said. “Our scouts report a sizable number with some military organization. Perhaps, with some help, they could add to our force strength.”
“I agree, but let’s wait until after we engage the enemy at Bredon,” Abigail said. “We’ll have more to bargain with if we can demonstrate that we’re on their side.”
***
Several days later, Abigail sat atop her horse on a hillock overlooking a broad plain that stretched for miles in every direction. Her army was well behind her and moving slowly but inexorably toward Bredon.
On the horizon, she could see a pall of smoke hanging over the city from dozens of fires burning within its walls. Bredon had fallen to Zuhl’s soldiers, who were no doubt busy looting and pillaging the homes and shops of the inhabitants.
Abigail felt a sense of urgency building within her. She knew she couldn’t save all of the cities of Fellenden, but she could at least salvage what was left of Bredon—if she could get there in time. It would be at least another day before the main body of her army reached the outskirts of the city.
Her plan to use the Sky Knights to eliminate Zuhl’s scouts had worked better than expected, presumably because the barbarians were too preoccupied with pillaging Bredon to notice the absence of scouting reports.
The cavalry had separated from the infantry and archers days ago and were skirting the city to the west, cutting off any hope of escape. Abigail wanted to utterly destroy these invaders, but more practically, she didn’t want reports of her army’s advance to reach the enemy forces at the shipyards.
This first battle would be a test, of sorts. The soldiers in her army had fought against the infantry of the Reishi Army Regency and the soldiers of Headwater, but they had never faced Zuhl’s forces. She didn’t know what to expect and was glad to have such a lopsided engagement be their first against this new enemy. From their treatment of Fellenden City, she was convinced that they were cruel and barbaric but their capability on the battlefield was unknown. This fight would help her formulate a strategy for attacking the legions guarding the shipyard.
“Doesn’t look like they’ve noticed us yet,” Anatoly said.
“No, but it’s only a matter of time before they do. I just wish I knew how they would react.”
“You and everyone who’s ever commanded an army marching toward battle,” Anatoly said with a grin.
Abigail smiled as she nodded. “I know, I know, all I can do is formulate a sound strategy and then execute my plan.”
“At least you were listening during your lessons, even if they were meant for your brothers,” Anatoly said.
Abigail was quiet for a long moment. “I miss him, Anatoly. Sometimes I wonder how events would have played out if Darius had been marked instead of Alexander.”
“I loved Darius like my own son,” Anatoly said, “but honestly, I’m not sure if he would have fared as well as Alexander has.”
Abigail nodded. “I wonder how Alexander’s doing. I keep hoping he’ll visit my dreams and at least say hello.”
“I’m sure he’s all right,” Anatoly said. “Jack, too,” he added with a sidelong glance.
Abigail tried to suppress a smile as she turned her horse toward her army.
She ordered General Markos to pick up the pace and march until sundown. They made a dark camp and ate a cold dinner to prevent the enemy from seeing them in the night. Abigail found it hard to believe that Zuhl’s soldiers hadn’t noticed her army yet, but she was willing to take any stroke of luck that broke her way.
They marched on at dawn, moving as quickly as she could motivate such a large group of people to move. As they neared the outskirts of the city about midday, a warning bell tolled. The invaders began to pour out of the city and started forming a battle line, but seeing the size of the enemy they faced, they quickly changed their strategy, reforming into company-sized units of a hundred men or so and moving away from the city in all directions.
Abigail cursed under her breath. At first she suspected cowardice, but the discipline of the soldiers was too great. They didn’t just scatter and they didn’t all head off toward the main encampment near the shipyards. Instead, they seemed to be forming into units large enough to be more than a match for most towns or villages, yet small enough to move quickly.
“So much for that plan,” Abigail said.
“No plan ever survives contact with the enemy,” Anatoly reminded her.
“So you’ve said,” Abigail muttered. “Mistress Corina, send word to General Kern and the cavalry to separate into hunting parties of five hundred men each and range out around Bredon, killing as many of the enemy as they can find. Dispatch a wing of Sky Knights to assist them. General Markos, continue around the city. We march for the shipyard with haste. Captain Wyatt, assemble your men. You’ll accompany me into the city.”
By the time they reached the broken city gates, the enemy had all but abandoned the place, leaving the survivors in a state of stunned and almost disbelieving relief.
The gates were torn from the gatehouse and one tower had been smashed, leaving rubble strewn across the street. Several dozen men in armor, all wearing the crest of Bredon, were scattered across the roadway just beyond the gate, their broken bodies left to rot where they’d fallen. They were the lucky ones.
Abigail surveyed the scene and nearly vomited. An elderly man, scrawny with unruly hair, was nailed to the wall of a nearby shop. He may have been the owner or just an unlucky passerby but now he had a dozen six-inch nails driven through each outstretched arm and into the wall of the building. His feet were several inches off the ground. Streaks of blood dripped down the wall beneath each nail. His head hung forward, limp and lifeless.
Bodies were haphazardly scattered about. Some were women who’d been raped and left for dead. Others were children, casually murdered and discarded.
A frantic young man came running up to them. Wyatt’s Rangers stopped him before he got close to Abigail.
“Have you seen her?” he asked urgently. “Have you seen my Emma? They took her from our house.”
His face was coated with grime and his clothes were dirty and torn. A lurid bruise lit up his cheek and his right eye was swollen shut. He didn’t seem to notice or care.
“Dear Maker, I have to find her,” he said, before hurrying off on his search.
Abigail swallowed the bile rising in her throat.
Now that the invaders had fled, the people of Bredon were returning to the streets. Some were stunned by the sudden absence of their tormenters. Others were desperately looking for lost loved ones. A few just sat on the edge of the road and cried, perhaps for what they’d lost or perhaps because they’d been spared.
“I’ve seen enough,” Abigail said, wheeling her horse and heading for the gate.
Chapter 27
She marched her army relentlessly, pushing them to the limits of their endurance. Time was the greatest enemy now. She needed to engage the legions guarding the shipyard before the raiding legions could regroup with them.
The cavalry reported some success against the legion that had disbanded from Bredon but they also reported that the enemy was fearless and fearsome. They were big men, most over six feet tall and few under two hundred pounds. Some stood nearly seven feet tall, and three hundred pounds was not uncommon within their ranks. They fought with a variety of weapons and wielded them all with a kind of skill and familiarity that only comes from experience. They were ruthless and brutal. Their commanders were cunning and treacherous, several times luring cavalry hunting parties into close quarters and turning the tables on them.
Zuhl’s horde had few horses and the ones they did have were big and slow, but powerful. A few of his soldiers carried javelins but none carried bows; they seemed to view such weapons as beneath them, preferring to wield swords, battle-axes, spears, and heavy maces in face-to-face combat.
That was one weakness that the Rangers knew how to exploit. After a week of hunting the enemy, it became apparent that Abigail’s heavy cavalry were less effective and more vulnerable. They relied on size and mass to attack effectively, but these soldiers happily stood their ground against a cavalry charge, more often than not unhorsing those on the leading edge of the attack.
The Rangers, on the other hand, discovered early on that they could use the speed and mobility of their light horses coupled with the deadly accuracy of their composite bows to pick the enemy soldiers off one at a time.
Abigail ordered her single legion of heavy cavalry to regroup with the rest of the army and left the two legions of Rangers to hunt Zuhl’s raiders. The Rangers were adept at the tactic and started to take a real toll on the legion that had sacked Bredon.
Unfortunately, they were not the only ones exacting a toll. A company of barbarians sneaked into a Ranger encampment one night and attacked. The battle went poorly for the surprised Rangers. They fought fiercely and many managed to mount up and escape to a distance where they could make use of their bows, but nearly two hundred were lost before the battle ended.
As the days stretched into weeks, the tension within the ranks built as stories of the barbarians’ brute strength, size, and ruthlessness began to circulate. The Sky Knights reported that the raiding legions were abandoning the cities and moving to regroup behind Abigail’s army. She’d known that this was a possibility all along, even hoped for it. Drawing the enemy into an engagement with her army was the best chance she had for sparing the people of Fellenden the horrors that had befallen the people of Bredon and Fellenden City.
Once she was certain she would reach the shipyard several weeks before the raiding legions could regroup and attack her army’s flank, she decided it was time to go in search of allies.
Anatoly held his tongue, but he obviously didn’t relish the idea of a ride on Kallistos. Abigail just grinned as he grumbled while strapping himself into her saddle. Conner strapped in behind Knight Raja, and the two wyverns lifted off. Abigail had become used to flying and even found it exhilarating, but Anatoly had never been in the air before and his nervousness showed in his death grip on the saddle.
The air was crisp and the sky was clear as they flew toward the Iron Oak Forest and the camp of refugees hiding under its canopy. It took several hours to reach the forest and then another hour to locate the camp. Tens of thousands of people were busy building fortifications and homes under the sheltering branches of the giant trees. Abigail made a low pass and dropped her message. She’d written a letter, sealed it in wax with the butt of the Thinblade, and put it in a small pouch with a stone.
As they flew over, alarms began to sound within the camp and warning fires were lit, signaling other parts of the sprawling camp that danger was near. Abigail gained altitude, wheeling toward the bare hillock she’d chosen for their meeting place. The scouts had provided her with a detailed description of the area, including several spots that were open enough to land a wyvern.