After Dathyr’s fall and the initial resistance led by the Krey, Judas ordered all troops to fall back. He and the battlemages hastily rebuilt the wall from the inside while the Krey continued to fight on the outside. Meristal answered Judas’s request and committed over one hundred battlemages ranging from all three castes: Aegis, Barrage, and Pharmacon. When they arrived, the mages collectively rebuilt the wall, ripping up stone beneath the roads or from underneath the pile of corpses.
With all their forces pulled back, they settled in for the siege, conducting war counts, what the army referred to as the ABC’s of War: Arrows, Bread, Corpses, Disabled, and the Enemy. Between Judas and the battlemages, they placed several additional enhancements on the walls, including wards against dragons. The work devoured the remainder of the day. Xilor seemed to spend his time wisely, waiting for the remainder of his hordes to clear the Corridor.
That night, Judas arranged the posts on the wall, while orchestrating construction on more weapons and armor to replace the lost or destroyed. Even with the mages to help, it would be days before the first shoddy piece was available. Smithery took time, more time than they had. A sword could take months to forge, and armor even longer. The Aegis and Pharmacon imbued the smith’s tools and metal with slight enhancements, enough to augment, but not enough to deplete the mages. Masters of weapons and blades poured laboriously over scorching coals, forging swords, axes, daggers and war hammers. As a new weapon was forged and tested for quality, the product was delegated to a mage for enchanting, then to an apprentice of the smith for honing and sharpening. The blades were ugly, hastily scrapped together. Judas knew most of the enchanted magic was feeble at best, but if it helped them survive another day, it was worth the effort.
Once production commenced, Judas gathered what unskilled women and children he could find and organized them into a mess hall crew. Bread was the easiest for them to make in large quantities in a short amount of time. He also instructed them to boil rice, steam vegetables, mash potatoes and boil grain for porridge. Two of the younger women, who weren’t as adept at making meals, tended the cleaning.
A hungry and defenseless army would lose quickly. Placing a few belated enchantments on the defenses, he gathered the women and children into a central area in the town. “These defenses will not hold for long,” he consoled as he gazed at their frightened faces. “Thank you for the assistance in preparing food for the fighting forces, but now we must go and prepare another place for them. We will go north to Dlad City and help the garrisoned soldiers with the fortifications.” Judas gathered the strongest of all the battlemages, those who could teleport since there were no portal masters at the Cape, and the slow exodus of women and children began.
“Give me ten,” he called to the crowd. They surged forward to grasp at him and he, too, helped teleport them to safety once the pushing and shoving had subsided. After many assurances that he would be back for more, and that all would leave safely, he and his first ten vanished.
It was late into the night before he finished shuttling the women and children to Dlad City and organized with the officer in charge. Once everything was in place, he went back to Cape Gythmel. As much as he regretted not visiting sooner, he attended the wounded, relieved to find the Pharmacon caste diligently working. He organized the wounded into groups with the help of the Pharmacon battlemages and teleported the injured to safety. Dawn was a few hours off still.
Judas finally retired to his tent, finding the kaptyn awaiting.
“Kaptyn.”
“Warlock,” the other nodded crisply. “I am here for the debriefing.”
Judas held his arm out towards his tent, and the other followed him inside. The kaptyn wasted no time.
“There are parts that I do not know, such as the details of the rebuilt wall. That is for people who are masters of magic. The women and children that you augmented my mess hall personnel with are greatly appreciated. They managed to cook enough food that we’ll be feasting on leftovers on the morrow and perhaps the day after. All told, I lost three hundred and twenty-seven men, those who fell and never rose again. The wounded, less so, a mere one hundred and fifty-three. Additional losses include eight modified trebuchets, two unmodified trebuchets, one armory full of arrows, bows, swords and uncounted armor. We estimate losses at roughly ten to twelve percent. However, your help with the smiths negated the effects.” He paused. “Other losses include three stables with grain and feed for the horses, sheep, pigs and goats, due to dragon-breath or carcasses crushing them. We lost half as many animals as we did men.”
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“What of the Krey?” Judas inquired as the kaptyn finished.
“From the reports I gathered, they lost two members, their superior and another. The red-haired girl assumed command. Earlier, she dispatched a letter, no doubt to her superior, explaining the losses and requesting for more personnel. If I may be so frank, warlock, while it is never in doubt that they held off Xilor’s minions and gave us a chance to regroup, I question whether it is wise having them among us. I like them well enough, and they are nice, if not crass and humorous, but what if now that war is declared, the Heir should send more squads? I must think first for the safety of my men.”
Judas nodded his understanding. “If the Heir should dispatch more squads, it will be because Ralloc has ordered him to do so. In that event, we’ll be extra careful to give no provocation. I commend you for thinking of your men, a duty befitting your rank. Most noblemen are bored and jaded. I am sure the Krey will keep their own in line, and we will do likewise. The first skirmish is over, but the long battle has just begun. Seek your bed, Kaptyn Dillon. The morrow isn’t very far away.”
The kaptyn left and Judas heeded his own advice and slept the few hours away till dawn. He arose and washed his face with the cold water in his basin. Patting it dry, Judas exited his tent, greeted by bright morning light.
Soldiers shot about to their duties, the bustling making their armor ring. Judas blinked a dozen times until his eyes adjusted to the harsh glow. Grunts and shouts carried from further distances. The churned mud reeked of animal urine, the air stank with blood and body odor. Judas pulled a small mirror from his robes.
“Meristal,” he said as her face materialized.
“Judas. Where are you? I have reports placing you in Dlad City. Are you okay?” Worry filled her voice.
“Cape Gythmel still,” he replied solemnly. “Xilor nearly routed us. I sent a few men along with the women and children to Dlad City. We have fortified our position here, but it is not meant to last.”
“So, where do you want reinforcements directed?” she asked.
It was a good question. He needed some here, but even more in Dlad City. “Send all the wizards you can to Dlad City, see if you can direct a battalion of men here and the rest to Dlad City. Be sure to talk to the jyneruls and let them give you advice.”
“Won’t you need more battlemages there to help you?”
“No. I only have to contend with Xilor. I can hold off his xicx; with the hundred you sent me, minus the few I had remain in Dlad City, we should be fine, for now. No sense in wasting time and men when we don’t need them here. Do you think you can pull it off?” he asked.
A devious smile crossed her face. “I think I can work something out, yeah.”
“Good. Thank you,” he said as he ended the transmission. “Don’t let me down,” he breathed to himself. As Judas tucked the mirror away, the kaptyn found him. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Any word?”
“Yes. We will receive an additional battalion of soldiers shortly. After that, I plan to make do and hold Xilor as long as possible. We need to collect our dead, but with Xilor’s army breathing down our necks …” he trailed off. Another thought crossed his mind. “What rank commands a battalion?”
“Kaptyn, warlock. Once you receive Meyjour, you are removed to a higher position,” the kaptyn explained. His brow frowned. “Why?”
“I like you, Kaptyn. You’ve done a fine job in the absence of a superior officer, and I don’t want someone else coming here and stirring trouble. It is usually customary for a member of the Grand Royal Army to issue in-the-field promotions, but since I am acting under orders from the consul, I hereby elevate you to the rank of kernoyl. That should keep people from blustering our smooth operation, eh?”
Dillon stood dumbfounded for a moment, and a smile blossomed on his face. Judas had just knocked off over an Age of service to ascend to the rank. “Thank you, Warlock Lakayre.”
“Now,” Judas said, “let’s send a mage off to Ralloc to get you proper insignia befitting your new rank. And then, let’s get some breakfast.”