Silvanna watched her great-grandson Rufus leave the over elaborate command tent. It felt good to upturn someone’s expectations like that. Rufus’s face had been a study when he realized she had made him her personal ambassador to the court of Amberdrake, emperor and consort of the Amber Moon.
‘Yes indeed,’ she thought, ‘I really look forward to seeing how he fares. His weird friends and companions will make an excellent staff for my ambassador. Who also is the ambassador of the Khanate. The chaos lovers will love the chance of gaining us and Aldrya’s elves as allies. I’ll have to remember not to tell Aldrya.’
She remained impassive as Formax the Thunderer entered her tent. “I have a tricky task for you old friend. I need you to go to the citadel of the Rock Folk. See if you can get King Sul the Hewer to agree to assign us a couple of his siege specialists. I’ll be willing to accept an oath of fealty from, say, Soren the Reckless. As long as Soren has a few followers of his own. He’ll need at least two to make it legal.”
Formax rubbed his chin in thought. “Mmm, and what can I offer the king?”
“I suspect getting Soren out of his realm will be the main inducement. But take along four small ingots of iron. Offer one to Soren’s parents as a goodwill gesture and use the others as you see fit.”
“That might work. Do you want any gear from them?”
“That would be nice, but unnecessary.”
“Any other instructions?”
“No. Formax, you’re the one who knows the Rock Folk, use your knowledge to get us what you can. I want Soren for his abilities. I won’t need him for Refuge, but if we have to take Riverbend we will need his expertise with explosions.”
Formax snickered, “Yeah, the tale of him testing those grenadoes he invented in the tunnels was hilarious.”
* * *
Shortly after dawn, Silvanna led the three hosts she had encamped near Fort Bones past the entrance of the valley of the Moon Maid. The inhabitants of the new town had turned out to watch, Vaspedian and his small staff were present. The man looked unhappy and disapproving. They all knew she was headed for Refuge. Silvanna felt glee at the thought of the messengers that had been sent to Refuge from the unappealing gaggle of bandits and rogues that passed for adventurers.
The army followed the south bank of the Blue River. It didn’t take long for the army to move out of sight of the degenerates. Silvanna laughed out loud and was joined in her mirth by Heraclios and her close staff.
“Poor fools. You’ve set them up wonderfully grandma. They honestly think we are going to demonstrate against the walls like usual. They don’t suspect your agreements with the Warder of the Northern Marches and Queen Aldrya,” chuckled Heraclios.
“True, but we have to give most of the credit to Berlinus the Axe.”
Heraclios looked thoughtful as he tried to work out what his grandmother meant. “Why?” he asked at last.
Silvanna shook her head sorrowfully, “Heraclios – Heraclios. Think! Who but the Khan of the Footsloggers had the knowledge needed to both find the desperate dirtmen of the other Clans and the clever ones from my lands and his legion. They were why the swine who infest the new town were led to believe what they do.”
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“Oh!” exclaimed Heraclios. “And when we get the proof of their treachery...”
Silvanna just grinned.
* * *
When the army passed the newly empty valley of the Whitewater Silvanna broke into song. ‘Everything is falling into place. The elves were right, that river that is spilling out of the Rose Dungeon IS the Whitewater. Nice of them to divert that river, there will be fewer sweeps needed in future.’
Silvanna studied the Blue and was pleased at what she was seeing. The Blue was no longer formidable, and Refuge had always relied on the Blue to guard its north. The small loop that partially enclosed the town would be vulnerable. She sent a galloper to the Khan of the second host and shortly after watched with approval as a third of her army forded the blue and cantered off to the join the rest of her forces for the attack on Refuge’s north shore.
After the now forested hills to the south were left behind giving way to simple forests Silvanna drew her host to a halt. After a short wait elven warbands began straggling from the forest, they appeared in their bands surrounded as ever by crowds of runners. Much to Silvanna’s displeasure there was very little order or discipline to be seen. Mixed amongst the multitude there came the mounted nobles in their living armour.
Finally the Marcher Lady Rivanna emerged with her retinue. A litter slung between two mules was with them; it bore a large rose bush. Numerous pixies buzzed around it and the priestess that accompanied it.
“Hail lady Ironhoof. How is the Blue?”
“Low as we guessed Lady Rivanna. Will you accompany me across? We should be in place for the assault by mid-afternoon. Are you sure you don’t want to wait for the morrow?”
“I’d love too, but I don’t trust the slavers to not get word of our plans. They have bought some of our folk. Hopefully we will soon know who.” Rivanna the March Warden concluded with a chilling smile.
Silvanna had a final word with her son Storm Lord Faldane Ironhoof, general of her third horde. She left him over half of her own horde and watched as he advanced towards the walls of Refuge. Hopefully he’d maintain their attention when coupled with the other elven war host who were going to demonstrate from the forest. Only a fool discounted the elves mastery of magics.
Then she turned and led her hearthguard and core units after Rivanna’s elves. They forded the anaemic Blue and moved to join the rest of the true attack.
* * *
The combined host moved quietly under cover of the elves illusions until they reached the banks of the Blue. Silvanna looked across the muddy riverbed at the fortress town of Refuge. The timber stockade that lined the riverbank was broken in the middle by the piers and docks of the riverport. It would be a formidable obstacle for her centaurs but there were hardly any guards.
The elves took the right and her footsloggers the left. It was time, Silvanna levelled her lance and released three of her bound air spirits, they formed themselves into twisters and shot towards the palisade to her front. The mini tornadoes sucked up river water as they crossed the Blue and then tore through the fortifications and went on to wreak havoc amongst the houses of the town as they fed on the lives of their victims.
With a roar the footsloggers raced across the shallow river and poured into the town. They had been promised the sack and they were eager to enrich themselves. On the other flank the elven host streamed into the town through the holes opened in the palisades by their wood mages and the dryad they had fetched. They were wild for revenge and eager to release their brothers that had been enslaved by the slavers that made Refuge their home.
For their part the townsfolk fought desperately when they realised they couldn’t expect quarter. But assaulted from all sides and desperate to save their families that were suddenly in the front lines thanks to the attack across the river they were doomed.
By nightfall Refuge was burning, the walls were being destroyed and the elves were preparing to claim the land up to the Blue for their forest.
In a hastily raised tent Silvanna and her officers were perusing several letters and making plans for another purge.