“Now, here.” Wyndy indicated the three positions on the hillside. “Move them to their positions. As per your maps. Everyone together.”

Dawn was the thinnest sliver of color woven across the eastern sky as Wyndy spoke quietly to the now-famous engineering team of Broadback, Nish, Redbane and Clufs, their students, and the soldiers of the Pelsan artillery.

Their trebuchets had originally been a research project at UNL's College of Engineering. A whole team of students spent three years developing it. Redbane and Clufs got the acclaim, and most of the students got degrees.15

The three trebuchets were pulled over the top of the hill, out of the forest, and into their place in the clearing on the hillside. It took a score of orcs and buggebears, assisted by the giant wolves Luna, Fluffy, and Socks.

Further down the hill, Wyndy could see the orc and goblin infantry getting into position. The first row were setting spears against a cavalry charge, while behind them the archers strung their bows. She could just make out the leading units of Pelsa’s cavalry, the wolves trotting quietly into a pass between hills to the east, in preparation for a change on the right flank of the enemy.

The goblin and dwarf chief engineers left their trebuchets and ran to the outcrop where Wyndy was standing.

“How far are we from their catapults?” asked Clufs.

Wyndy looked with her sorcerous vision through the magic Watch Points that the mole-folk had set up in the enemy camp. She consulted the map, and pointed to the location of their targets.

“It looks to be exactly four hundred and twenty yards to Target One,” she said. “Four eighteen to Target Two, and fifteen yards west. Target Three is twelve yards directly behind Target One.”

“Perfect. Shall we load the ammunition?” asked Redbane.

“Yes, it is time and we are in place. Load the ammunition,” ordered Wyndy.

The G-Bombs were carried into place by a team of three trolls. Trolls could naturally heal quickly, and the G-Bombs hadn't passed all the safety tests. Or any safety tests. Broadback and Nish checked the weapons and their fuses.

Redbane finished some calculations he was doing in the margins of his map and spoke quietly to the operators. “Right, red team, turn the front eight degrees to the right, remove ten pounds from the counter-weight. Blue team, seven degrees to the right, add twenty pounds. Green team, ten degrees left, no change to the counter-weight.”

Three orcs along the line gave the thumbs-up sign.

“We are ready on your command, Your Highness,” said Clufs. “Do we start the battle?”

Wyndy concentrated and motioned at the loaded G-bombs, as most of the crew moved away from the trebuchets. Small sparks of red light traveled from Wyndy’s hands, igniting the fuses.

“I, Crown Princess Wyndyn of the Kingdom of Pelsa, do hereby command you to launch the weapons at the Vatharian army, Engineer.”

The three trebuchets launched the G-bombs.

Wyndy watched the three projectiles heading for the enemy camp, a trail of fire behind them.

“They will learn that they can’t just walk into Pelsa.”

- - - -

Former Counselor Kyant had begun his service to Vathary in the army, and had moved from the army to being the King’s counselor for pleasing the king. Now, having displeased the king, he found himself in the army again.

“Colonel Kyant, Colonel! Wake up sir! The orcs have been spotted. They are advancing, and are just four hundred yards away sir.”

Kyant sprang up from the bed he’d made under the wagon.

It was complete pandemonium in the Vatharian camp

The army leadership had not expected an attack here. They’d thought that Jend’s forces would make their stand further in, either in the city or at the river crossing another day’s travel north.

Of course, they’d sent out scouts anyway, but the scouts had reported nothing. For that matter, Kyant couldn’t see any of the scouts anywhere. It was difficult to understand, as the scouts had necklaces that should have notified the army’s wizards if the scouts were killed or captured, but no signal had been sent.

Kyant saw that the catapults and ballistas were still unmanned.

“They will be in catapult range soon. We need to get the catapults ready. Where is Sir Gwenod?”

“Gwenod has disappeared, sir. We can't find Sir Landon either.”

That left Kyant as the ranking officer in the area. Except for the king, of course. But the king was nowhere to be seen.

Kyant spotted the catapult crews emerging from their tents.

“Sergeant Garday, Plimt, get your men to the catapults. Now! Right now! The orcs should be in range in minutes,” yelled Kyant, as he pointed to the array of Vatharian catapults positioned along the hillside.

They heard the whistling sound of a projectile passing close overhead, and then the two closest catapults exploded. Three seconds later, another catapult twelve yards behind them was hit and exploded, fire and shrapnel flying twenty yards from the site of impact. Burning liquid flowed from the site, setting fire to the grass and supplies downhill from the catapult.

The third projectile hit an officer's tent, obliterating the target and everything for twenty yards around it. The king's tent was near. It caught on fire.

Kyant tried to direct the soldiers to form up ranks, the bowmen behind the cavalry. Sir Bowen was on his horse along with his commanders, screaming instructions to their men. The infantry were getting into position.

Two of the Vatharian catapults had been crewed, and launched their first salvo at the enemy. The stones fell eighty yards short of where Kyant could see the orcs forming a front line.

The enemy launched another three projectiles, with the same accuracy they'd displayed before. One of the Vatharian catapults that had just been manned was incinerated. Another hit the cavalry and the last projectile hit the forming ranks of the bowmen.

The initial stages of a battle are about distance. A bowman is generally effective at up to about 200 yards, with exceptional archers wielding compound bows able to hit at target at 250 yards. A sorcerer generally can only blow up a target at less than 50 yards, perhaps double that if the sorcerer were extremely powerful. The best catapult that Vathary had could hit a target at 325 yards, if manned by a good crew and given time to aim.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Kyant had just seen his side get hit with heavy explosives that had been shot from over 400 yards away.

Kyant knew that the Vatharians either needed to retreat now or launch a charge to close the distance to the enemy. Every minute delay gave the Pelsan forces more time to pick apart the Vatharian forces.

To his left, Kyant saw King Neydon run out of his burning tent. He'd dressed hastily, and was just in a linen shirt and linen pants, with his sword and scabbard buckled around his waist. His purple cloak was the only indicator of his status.

Bowen galloped to his king, and arrived at the same time Kyant did.

“Sire, we must either charge with every man who can, or retreat,” yelled Kyant.

“Attack now? Sure. Yes, we should do that. Where is Gwenod?” said King Neydon.

“Gwenod has disappeared,” said Bowen from his horse. “The buggebears may have snuck in and gotten him. Very sneaky, those buggebears.”

“Then you do it,” yelled the king. “You lead the cavalry charge. The infantry and archers follow. Get the dragons out. Get the archers within range to take out their catapult!”

To punctuate his statement, two more projectiles hit the Vatharian lines. At least one of the Vatharian war wizards was now in action, as the wizard shielded a squad from the impact of a third projectile, just fifty yards from where the king stood. Fire lit up the sky, but the shield held.

Kyant was able to get a better view of the enemy army, their front line arrayed at the beginning of the hillside across the valley.

“Sire,” he said urgently. “It looks like Jend’s force is much bigger than we expected. At least the size of ours. We should retreat and regroup.”

“Always so difficult and pessimistic, Kyant.” The king didn’t turn but kept addressing Bowen. “Now, strike now. Perhaps, they may have more monsters than we thought, but they will flee the sight of a Vatharian lance. Go!”

“For the glory of Vathary!” Bowen yelled as he galloped down the hill, rallying his force around him.

“Can the navy support the charge or get within range with their ballistas?” asked King Neydon to Kyant.

The two men looked to their left to the sea. In the morning light they could just make out the nine ships of the Vatharian Royal Navy sailing to engage the lone, small ship from Pelsa. The situation looked promising until they noticed that the Vatharian ship closest to the Pelsan ship was listing to its side, as the Royal Navy sailors abandoned the vessel.

After a moment, the king and Colonel Kyant could see the next ship in the formation shake and tilt to its side, as if it had been hit hard by something under its water-line.

“Oh, that was Martain’s ship,” noted the king, who had assigned Earl Martain to the navy as they’d thought it would be safer.

Nine seconds later, large tentacles wrapped around the Vatharian flagship, in the middle of the formation. Loud snapping of timbers could be heard even up to Kyant’s position, and the ship was torn in two. The sailors jumped from the ship and tried to swim to shore, but found themselves caught in nets and dragged north, toward the enemy ship. Kyant could just make out the fin of a killer whale, with a humanoid form on the whale, carrying a trident.

“I don’t think the navy is going to help,” said Kyant.

Kyant and the king missed the strike on the next ship, as they were distracted by loud music coming from their right.

“It’s the scouts,” said Kyant. “But why are they dancing?”

“They are with Hargest,” said the king. “Dravon told me he was dead!”

A group of orc musicians, led by the missing Vatharian scouts playing tambourines, and seemingly protected by Sir Hargest, walked out of the forest and entered the camp where the units of the army’s right flank had their tents. In their midst was a beautiful elven woman singing a song that was somehow so loud that Kyant could hear it from their position, over a hundred yards away. It was in Modern Elvish, and as far as Kyant could make out the words, she was singing something about why she couldn’t get just one kiss. It was a catchy tune.

When Kyant started humming along, he realized that the musicians may not just be standard traveling musicians who liked to randomly perform on battlefields.

He grabbed Sergeant Plimt. “Sergeant, that must be a witch. Get the men away from those musicians!”

As the sergeant ran to try to pull the men back from the musicians, Kyant could hear the elven woman say “Thank you, thank you. It’s great to be here. For our next song, we are going to perform some Hompa Chompa! It’s a great orcish tradition, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy it!”

Kyant never saw Sergeant Plimt again.16

“Where is Dravon?” asked the king. “And where are the dragons he rented?”

The second of the king’s questions was answered a moment later, as the five green dragons who had promised to help the Vatharian cause appeared over the crest of the hill. They flew low, in a V-formation, toward the base of the hill where Bowen was preparing his charge.

- - - -

Sergeant Cloyd and his men from the Keley City Guard grabbed their crossbows as they rushed into place behind the cavalry. He was even less excited about this incursion into the orc’s land than he’d been the last time, and had gone to great lengths to provide extra hugs for his daughter and to even make peace with his wife when he’d left his home in Keley three days prior.

Now he found himself again following Sir Bowen as they prepared to charge enemy lines.

“Kemble, Goff, I’m not sure we are going to make it out of this. So I wanted you to know that it was an honor to serve with you.”

“You too sarge,” said Kemble. The boy was shaking as he clutched his crossbow.

“Ready men! Listen for my command,” yelled Bowen as he galloped to the front of the forming lines. “Our Sky Lord wills it!”17

The orcs, goblins, and buggebears at the Pelsan front line held their position, their spears set. Behind them thousands of orc archers notched arrows on their bows.

The flight of Vatharian green dragons passed overhead, and Cloyd saw eight enemy dragons, red and bronze, rise from behind the Pelsan lines.

Bombs began dropping from the enemy dragons as they passed over the Vatharian lines. Each dragon had two or three humanoid figures strapped to their backs, dropping bombs the size of grapefruit on the Vatharian soldiers below.

A score of the Vatharian archers shot at the lead red dragon, but most of the arrows were blocked by a magic shield. It seemed that some of the Pelsan dragons carried a wizard in addition to bomb-dropping goblins. A few arrows penetrated the magical protection, but their velocity was reduced, and they impacted harmlessly off dragon’s scales.

The two largest green dragons dived at one of the smaller red dragons, then pulled back as they were hit by multiple bombs, even before they were in claw range. They attempted to use their acid-breath on the red dragon, but the distance and speeds were too great, and it dodged easily out of the way.

The Vatharian dragons grouped tightly, seeking a good defensive posture and the ability to at least keep the Pelsa dragons and their bombs away from the charging Vatharian forces. The Pelsan dragons flew higher, positioning for a diving attack, but then the largest red dragon, followed a minute later by the smallest of the dragons, flew back, away from the Vatharian forces and toward the back of the Pelsan lines.

The remaining six Pelsan dragons formed a tight formation and circled, looking for an opening to strike the greens.

Sir Bowen and the knights galloped through the lines, yelling for the infantry to get into formation. Cloyd and his men reached their place, and watched as Sir Bowen took a position at the head of the main calvary column. He raised his sword and pointed toward the enemy lines to signal readiness.

A great bolt of lightning hit behind the enemy lines. The day was cloudy, but it wasn’t raining and no other lightning had been seen anywhere in the area.

“You see men! The Sky Lord favors us! He has struck the orcs!” yelled Bowen.

A cheer went out from the men. Cloyd felt at least a little confidence returning. His squad gripped their crossbows.

Cloyd looked to the sky. The Vatharian dragons still deterred the Pelsan dragons from an attack. The two groups circled above their respective armies. Cloyd hoped this would mean no bombs dropping during their charge.

“Charge,” yelled Sir Bowen, lowering his sword and spurring his horse forward. The Vatharian calvary charged with him, some of the younger knights spurring their horses ahead of their leader, hoping to be the first to the enemy. The infantry was not as enthusiastic, but ran along at their own pace behind their knights.

Orcish arrows began to rain down on the advancing Vatharian cavalry as the charge neared the Pelsan front line. Cloyd and his men reached crossbow range of the enemy targets. They stopped and fired at the orcs.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

15 After the battle, two of the students left the university and set up their own trebuchet manufacturing company, which still exists today.

16 Translator’s note: I met Plimt during my stay in Pelsa. He is now a tour guide at The Bronze Citadel and has three charming half-orc children and one grandchild.

17 The Sky Father did not, if fact, will it.