The town was surprisingly quiet since John reopened the mines. There were a few more attacks by the Harc’otti, but they were weak attempts at best. Each attack consisted of a few arrows fired from the treeline. The only casualty was a cart full of hay that couldn’t be doused before the flaming arrows turned it into a bonfire.

John stood next to the burned-out remains, scanning the treeline. He heard footsteps but didn’t turn to see who was approaching in case there were still warriors waiting to take a shot from the trees.

Blackwood sidled up next to him, looking at the pile of ash. “They’re probing the town.”

“Seems to be the case. But why? They must know they have the numbers.” Pappy had stopped by the day before to tell John of the attack his kin had thwarted at the mine. The old patriarch had also filled him in on the estimated number of Harc’otti roaming the woods. It was a sobering thought to learn nearly a thousand warriors were poised and ready to strike when they found an opening.

“Maybe they are afraid of the rotary,” Wyatt suggested.

“Hmm. Maybe. Or perhaps they are waiting for Jacob’s group to reinforce them.”

Blackwood grunted. “Let's hope they take their sweet time. Seline and her uncle are hard at work trying to get those artillery guns built. Even a single one of those will help even the playing field.”

John would like to believe that, but even a few extra guns wouldn’t do much. These probing strikes and random attacks from the Harc’otti were easy to repulse. What really worried him was a coordinated strike. Ember Creek simply didn’t have enough trained people to fight off a well-orchestrated attack.

And if Jacob’s group provided weapons and armor, any advantage the town managed to put together would quickly evaporate.

John finally turned away from the forest and looked at the Sheriff. The man looked tired. It wasn’t surprising. Nobody was getting much sleep with these raids. “We should think about walling off the town. Or at least limiting the ways in.”

“Let's discuss this where I don’t have to worry about a random arrow finding me.” He didn’t think there was any worry of that, but he could understand the man’s sentiment. John nodded and the pair walked back into town.

“Your plan has merit,” Blackwood finally spoke.

“But?” John asked, hearing the hesitation in the man’s voice.

“But it’s a big project. At most, we might get a palisade built. Plenty of trees, so that’s not a concern. And as long as we stick to the pine, the green wood and sap will slow or prevent fires from breaking out. It would also help push the treeline back, making it harder for the Harc’otti to attack the town. The issue is workers. With the mines reopened, we can’t rely on the Terminus employees to assist. That means we need to take time away from the rest of the locals to make this happen.”

“You think they’ll refuse?” John asked as they continued down the street.

“No. I think they would jump at the chance to do something to protect their town. But we need to watch over them while they cut down trees for the wall. And my temporarily deputized Peacekeepers are already stretched thin.”

It was true. Ember Creek didn’t lack people who wanted to defend it, it did however lack able-bodied warriors. Most of the people that moved out here were simple folk. Farmers or others just looking for a new start or who didn’t care for big city life. They may have been hardened by the brutal reality of living in this wilderness far removed from the comforts of modern life, but they weren’t trained soldiers. If they had guns to give every man and woman, then he would say Ember Creek had a better than even shot of holding the town against a full assault that included Jacob and his group. But they barely had enough weapons to arm the temporary deputies, let alone anyone else. Some people were sure to have their own weapons, but he knew that number was far fewer than he would have liked.

“I can watch over one group,” John offered.

“Oh, I don’t doubt you could. But you’re only one man. One scarily competent man, but still, one man. I don’t think we’re going to have the people to make a wall or palisade a reality. At least not for the foreseeable future. I think our best bet is to make some wooden barricades. That would at least slow any of the Harc’otti on horseback down. Then maybe dig trenches in some areas that don’t see much travel. If we focus on the west half of town, I think we could increase our defenses within a month.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“That’s gonna leave us vulnerable in the east.”

The Sheriff nodded. “We can’t assume that just because the Harc’otti haven’t crossed the creek to attack us from that side they won’t at some point. But the forests are thinner on the east side. If we post watchers, I think we can prevent them from cutting us off. If our defenses fail on the west side, we can move everyone across the bridges and use those as a fallback point.”

“Seems you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

“Hard not to,” the old soldier responded. “With your experience, I’m surprised you haven’t.”

“I was never much of a strategist,” John admitted. “I was better with small squad tactics. I can usually read the flow of battle once it kicks off, but until then, I have a hard time putting myself in a normal person’s shoes. I could tell you what I would do if I had an entire company of Irtishian Irregulars. But that doesn’t do us much good in our situation.”

The sheriff let out a chuckle. “No, I spose it doesn’t. …You don’t happen to have a company of these irregulars in your back pocket, do ya?”

John smiled and shook his head. “No, and be glad I don’t. They would not be as friendly as me, that I can assure you.”

“Yeah, but you’re an asshole,” the Sheriff stated.

“Exactly,” John laughed in response.

With the help of the Sheriff, John posted a request on the wanted board. The next morning, he found a dozen men and even a few women waiting for him. All looked eager, all had axes.

He walked up to the group, and any discussion stopped. John had expected to see sneers leveled at him, or at least annoyed glares considering who he worked for. That wasn’t the case. The people nodded respectfully at him. It seemed his reputation in town was starting to turn around for the better.

John wasn’t sure how he felt about that if he was honest. He cleared his throat. “You all read the notice?” Heads nodded and murmurs of agreement came from the group.

“Good. It’s not safe beyond the town, so stick close to me, and yell if you see something. We need to cut down and haul as many trees as we can back to the city. But let's not lose anyone.”

The group followed John to the side of the city where the previous day’s attack had occurred. The Sheriff was already there with his people combing the nearby woods. They wouldn’t stick around long, but it would ensure the work could begin without worrying about hidden threats.

Blackwood had also provided two teams of oxen for hauling lumber back to the town. The teams could only drag two to four logs at a time, but that was more than enough for the amount of workers he had.

John nodded to the Sheriff as they reached the woodline while the volunteers quickly set about selecting trees and chopping away. “How’s the forest?”

“You were right. There was a small group of Harc’otti hiding in the trees. They made a makeshift cover from leaves and twigs. Probably came in under the cover of dark to do it. As soon as they spotted my men doing a coordinated sweep, they abandoned their cover and fled deeper into the forest. My people took a few shots at them, but none of them hit. Forest should be clear for now, but keep an eye out.”

The more John engaged with these Harc’otti, the more he recognized the small squad tactics they were employing. It was eerily reminiscent of his time back in the Irtishian Army after the capital had fallen. Back then the Irregulars had been ordered into small groups to harass the enemy in any way they could. It was hoped that they could slow the advance of the other kingdoms long enough to reform the Army for an attack.

That of course never happened. The Irregulars were hunted down and exterminated, all but a select few, and the remaining Irtishian Army was crushed by the combined might of nine other nations. So why did these attacks seem to have so much in common with back then?

John had to push those thoughts to the back of his mind, it was time to stay focused. “Thanks for checking, I can take it from here.”

The Sheriff nodded before placing two fingers in his mouth and whistling loudly. “Wrap it up!”

He had to give the old soldier credit, he had turned the random assortment of workers into a competent force in no time. The group moved as one back toward the town, but they never turned their back on the forest, and each man scanned the trees as they moved.

Seline should be out here experiencing this as well, but she was needed more as an assistant to her temperamental uncle. They should be getting close to finishing one of the artillery pieces. He would have to check in with them soon.

The train would also be arriving in the next day or so, assuming it hadn’t been delayed or attacked again. So that was another thing he was going to have to look into.

It seemed like as soon as he fixed or finished one task, two more popped up.

The last of the Sheriff’s men exited the woods, and John could see the relief on their faces. It was the perfect time to strike. Which is why he had been watching and waiting. Sure enough, he saw a small pile of leaves move in the distance. Before the Harc’otti warrior could even stand to draw his bow, John had already shot him.

All work stopped, and the deputized men all spun toward the forest, their weapons up.

“How did you know?” Blackwood asked quietly.

“I didn’t. I just had a hunch. It should be clear now.”

“Thanks… That could have been bad.” The man gave him a stiff nod before turning to his men. “Double time it back to town! It seems like we have some more training to do.”

A few of the more vocal men grumbled, earning a dark chuckle from the Sheriff. “Is that additional laps I hear you asking for?”

The group went quiet at that question, all hurrying toward the city limits. The sheriff kept pace, with the younger men, and John snorted in amusement, his gaze flicking back toward the forest. His hunch had been accurate only because it was something the Irregulars would have done. Have a group flee while leaving one in hiding. Then as soon as the enemy grew complacent, pop out of hiding, shoot someone important, then vanish before the enemy could form a response.

Someone was using the old Irtishian Irregular tactics and implementing them poorly, and he didn’t like it one bit.