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The Chronicles of Orn, Book II: BESET
Chapter 13: On to Bruderman

Chapter 13: On to Bruderman

Orn rode the king’s black destrier near the centre of the column of troops. They had pushed hard over the past five days, and were set to arrive the following morning. In fact, Orn had been all but running them ragged that morning. Raising his hand, Orn signalled a halt.

“Ah, Your Highness, why are we stopping? We need to move on, so that we are within striking distance on the morrow,” exhorted Captain Triger Valbrun.

“Please stop calling me that, captain. Orn is fine.”

“No, actually. It is not fine. You are a prince of the realm, and the men need to know that, so I will address you thus.”

Orn sighed, and shrugged it off. “We are stopping, because we’re making camp. I want the men fed, and going through night routine so they can bed down and rest. We shall break camp at sunset and move the rest of the way tonight.”

“Tonight, Highness?”

“Yes. Have the men move well off the road so they are hidden from anyone travelling along it. Cold rations, no tents, no fires, and I want total noise discipline.”

“If I may know what you have in mind, Highness perhaps-“

“I want the city surrounded by sunrise. As soon as the city awakens and throws open the gates, we will send in some men with the merchant carts we’ve seized, to take control of the gatehouses. Good men we can trust to expend every effort to capture, not kill. I want minimal casualties on both sides.”

Triger blinked as he thought through Orn’s strategy. He realised it was a decent plan. “And then the army enters the city?”

“Yes. I have an idea that will maintain an element of surprise, and keep us hidden until the last moment, provided the men can maintain discipline. I want it known, unwarranted violence of any kind against the people of Bruderman will suffer severe punishment.”

“Perhaps when we are clear of the road, you should impart your mind unto the men.”

“Very well. Let’s get off this road. Brief some runners on what we just spoke of, and send them out to relieve our scouts, then set up camp.”

Once all was in place, Orn saw the large log, and stood upon it. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, focusing on the voice. He increased the feeling of his words, while keeping the volume down. He then proceeded.

“Men, I am Orn. Vylder Avdlak is my father, and the shield maiden, Venna, is my mother. She is also the king’s daughter.”

He scanned the faces of the men as he allowed that to sink in. He saw surprise in their faces as they looked around, amazed at how clearly they could hear the quietly spoken young man before them.

Orn continued, “Now that you know me, listen. The time is almost here. We have journeyed far, to bring Bruderman back into the fold. Like a wayward child, it has strayed from the wishes of her father. When your child strays, do you burn them? Kill them? No. You chide them, then guide them back onto the right path. To do more would make the child hate you.”

Orn reached out with his mind and raised several lumps of snow from beyond where the men were gathered. He compacted and fused them into solid ice spears, and had them hovering above him.

“Now, men, I am hoping I can trust you to exercise restraint. But those who disobey and violate the rights of the citizens of Brudermen, I will deal with personally, as is my right!”

As Orn spoke the last sentence, he’d unstrapped his shield from his back. He called forth Skofnung into his hand, and using an upward blast of air, lifted himself several feet above the men. He focused on the air around Skofnung, creating sufficient friction for a flaming, blue nimbus to surround the blade. Then he pointed his sword at the feet of the men in front and launched the floating ice spears into the ground before them.

The men leapt back, exclaiming in surprise. Orn gently floated back down to the log, strapped his shield onto his back, and returned his sword into his arm.

Hopping down from the log, Orn placed a hand on the wild-eyed Triger’s shoulder and led him apart from the men.

Triger stammered as he beheld this ordinary seeming young man, “Y-y-you have th-three elements.”

“Please, try not to think about it. I just wanted to be sure the men would behave themselves when we enter the city, that’s all.”

The captain continued to eye him warily.

Orn sighed and said, “Please, don’t be like that. I’m still me. Although, in fairness, I probably should have warned you about that. Anyway, how is this army divided into units?”

“Er, sorry?”

“How is the army broken down into smaller parts? Are there specialists? How do we coordinate them so we can have several things happening at the same time?”

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“We have scouts, and we have archers, but we normally just form up, and charge. Or we make battering rams, form up, and charge.”

“Wow. Good thing we are excellent on the sea,” Orn muttered to himself. He looked at Triger and said, “I spent some time with the military leader of the Nevan Empire. His army is formalised, and broken up into components that can be manoeuvred, and combined into whatever is best suited to a particular task. Strength, individual prowess, and weight of numbers are fine, but better tactics can overcome all of that.”

“The Nevans are no match for us,” Triger asserted stubbornly.

“Individually, and on a small scale, you would be right. But in an all out land war? With Censor Marius Vinnicus leading them? Don’t be so sure. I was with him when he used his environment and less than two hundred men to utterly crush an army of six hundred in half an hour. He is a master tactician,” said Orn.

“What do you propose?” asked Triger.

“How well do you know the men? How many archers? How many total? I believe we lost some on the night I joined you.”

“As it stands, we have twelve hundred men with us. All can use a bow, but we only have enough bows and ammunition to supply three hundred.”

“And horses? How many in total?”

“Including our own? Fifty-three. We also received warning that there would be Kula berserks at the palace. So we brought with us twenty polearms.”

“Kula berserks?” Orn asked, before answering his own question. “Ah, the children Bijáš spoke of.”

Orn squinted and looked up as he ran the information through his mind. He then asked Triger, “Can I have a table, some parchment, and a piece of charcoal?”

“I will see to it, Your Highness.” Triger gave a slight bow and moved toward a group of men bedding down.

Triger had his doubts about being led by a man so young as to be almost a child. But he had since conceded there was much more to Orn, than he would have ever guessed. He ordered one of the soldiers to retrieve the items from the transport carts at the centre of camp, and then returned to Orn.

Orn raised his eyebrows, to which Triger responded with a small nod. Shortly, the warrior returned to them with the items Orn requested, and set them up.

“Will that be all, sirs?” The soldier asked.

Orn said, “Could you fetch me a map of the city from the king’s equipment cart?”

“Of course, sir.”

“What have you got in mind, Highness?” Triger asked.

“Strategy, captain. Strategy!” Orn then began marking out columns on the page, writing figures, and then scowling as he scribbled some out and rewrote them until he was satisfied. As he was making his final adjustments, the warrior returned with the map.

“Anything else, sir?” the soldier asked Triger, who looked at Orn. After several seconds, he cleared his throat.

“What? Oh, right, sorry. Thank you…” Orn looked at the man expectantly.

The soldier returned Orn’s look blankly, and then jolted as realisation struck. “Ah, Daine. Daine Arlinson, sir.”

“Get some rest, thank you, Daine,” Orn responded as his gaze returned to his figures on the parchment.

The man dipped his head and then backed away. He dipped his head once more and then hurried away.

Triger watched the man leave, and then returned his attention to Orn. “So what is this all about, Highness? What exactly are you planning?”

Orn didn’t answer him straight away. Instead, he unfurled the map on the table and studied the layout of the city, occasionally looking at his figures, and back to the map as his lips moved soundlessly.

Then Orn exclaimed, “Got it!”

“Got what, Highness?” Triger asked, his brows furrowing plaintively, and a slight exasperation evident in his voice.

“Oh, yes. Right. What I need is your six finest archers, nineteen of your best horsemen, six of your men who exhibit strong leadership, and a group of, let’s say, fifty of the largest warriors. Do you think you can manage that?”

“Right away, your highness.”

Orn watched the captain move toward the men, setting up their bedding and finishing their meals. The morning was no longer viable, as he hadn’t factored the river into his original plan.

The city of Bruderman had an east gate and a west gate, with the Saugar River running through the centre of the town north to south. The palace was situated on the near bank. This delay didn’t trouble Orn much. He could have everything in place for the afternoon, and take the city then.

Once Triger returned with all the men requested, Orn set about briefing them of their roles for the taking of the city the next day. He divided the fifty strongmen and archers into the two mixed teams for seizing both gatehouses, and he assigned the six leaders to whichever groups they were to command, including a leader for each gate team. Once he finished the mission briefing, Orn bedded down for the night.

At sunset, Orn felt a hand on his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he looked around and saw that the men were up, having meals, and dismantling the makeshift camp. Once all was packed and they were ready, Orn moved them out for the overnight march to the city, reaching the outskirts as the first rays of the morning sun breached the horizon.

It was morning when the column pulled up within striking distance of the city. Orn set about deploying the men and delegating tasks. Once the men were busying themselves with the preparations, Orn created a fog bank that surrounded the city, obscuring the clearing between the forest and the city walls.

As midday approached, all was in place. Orn looked across the misty clearing toward the west gate of Bruderman, the city named for the country in which it was the capital. The warriors on the eastern side of the Saugar River had spent the morning building rafts to ferry them across.

Through the fog that Orn had created from the river surface, he could see the top of the city walls, and the towers of the gatehouse. He had spent the morning setting the units across the river to the east, and ensuring they knew their roles, leaving Captain Triger Valbrun in charge once he was satisfied.

Orn had returned to the western side about an hour prior. He focused his mind, and called forth a southerly breeze that began clearing the mist away. This was the prearranged signal for the first phase to begin.

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