The castle housing High King Brian Boru, his son and grandson, Máel Sechnail, Mael Ruanaidh Ua hEidhin, and Tadhg Ua Cellaigh, and the guild representatives was well-fortified. In the large village of Kilmainham, it was also out of place. There were weak points. There were too many soldiers and too much tension. Any moment could be an attack on them, their king, and their plans to rule the kingdom.
Thus, the soldiers bristled when Kazi and Samantha arrived. The front gate was littered with guards and twenty feet was the closest the pair could get. Guards in chainmail, padded leather, and pinecone helmets.
“Stop! In the name of the king!”
Samantha’s little smile turned to faux surprise. “Oh! Apologies, but we are here to deliver a message to the High King.”
Four guards came together, exchanging suspicious looks. One of them asked, “What kind of message?”
Samantha and Kazi also shared looks, pretending to be puzzled. “Logistics,” Kazi answered. From the back of his hand he revealed a scroll. “The number of soldiers for each commander, the number of soldiers from another world, number of horses available, etc.”
“You’re late,” the guard stated. “Moreover, I assumed it would be our men handling the logistics.”
Samantha went a bit over the top, eyes widening and said, “Ah, they didn’t tell you? Our sincere apologies. If you only need the paper, we don’t mind. Kazi, please hand it over to these wise gentlemen.”
“Of course.” Kazi offered the paper over with an inviting smile.
Another quick glance between the guards, who came to a conclusion. “No, it’s alright. Go in.”
Easy-peasy lemon squeezy. The guards gave way, the gate opened, and they were inside the bailey, grass surrounding them with several pathways leading to certain areas. The castle wasn’t a gargantuan like some were. To the left was the structure containing the hall Kazi had spawned at, the throne room. There were four towers and one of them held the war room. They didn’t know which was which, so Samantha improvised.
“Good sir!”
“Huh—”
Samantha ran up to a nearby guard and put her hands into a prayer. “We have instructed to give the king his prayers! Yet…we cannot find him!” She wiped at her forehead, shaking her head. “Oh, the horror! Without the Lord, we cannot win!”
“The horror!” Kazi chimed in. “Where do we go, O Son of God?”
“Err, that way?”
The north-east tower. This was too easy.
“Thank you!” Samantha took the guard’s hands in her own and gave it a kiss. “The Lord will not forget this! For the King! For Ireland!”
They waddled off after that, leaving a confused guard behind. There were another set of guards protecting the north-east tower, but with a quick show of the letter and the same Oscar-level acting they gave the guards at the front gate, they were allowed in.
“Jeez. There are a lot of stairs,” Samantha commented. Indeed, the stairs went in a swirl and took a good minute to climb. The wooden door was in view. Voices could be heard. The king was there as were the guild representatives.
“Should we knock or go in a blaze of glory?” Kazi asked Samantha.
“Knocking is the more polite option,” she replied.
‘Meaning, go in dramatically.’
He pushed open the door. All eyes landed on them, the intruders. There was confusion, then a question from the High King.
“You are…?”
“Logistics,” Kazi replied.
“I don’t recall our logistics messenger being accompanied by a woman,” High King Brian Boru pointed out.
“She’s a friend and I’m new.” Kazi tossed the paper over to Marchad, the High King’s son. Why him?
In the room were the king’s top commanders—or rather, allies. The fifteen year old Toirdelbach, Máel Sechnail the king of Mide, Mael Ruanaidh Ua hEidhin the King of Ui Fiachrach Aidhne, Tadhg Ua Cellaigh the King of Uí Maine, and finally, the de facto leader of the army due to the High King’s advanced age and the heir, Marchad. Marchad was the man with the authority here. He was the one they needed to convince, next to the High King himself. Everyone else would follow.
Marchad checked the logistics. Everything was sound. Kazi had stolen it, after all. Since birth, he had been an excellent pickpocket. Chalk it up to natural talent or his impoverished upbringing.
“Five thousand soldiers and two thousand five hundred men from another world,” Marchad declared. “Sufficient numbers if we assume each of the Templars are worth three men.”
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“Not just the Templars,” Griffith interjected. “The Red Dragons too.”
“We are worth ten men,” Ksenia added.
“Says the guild with a measly twenty people,” Griffith snapped back.
Maccabees, Justice Sect, Orthodox Sect, Templars, Red Dragons, Sapphire Order, Holy Dynasty, Yajna, and Thunderstrike Brotherhood. So many of them all in one room. An argument was brewing. Great.
“I am sure you have all come with a wonderful plan,” Samantha said, smiling at each of them. “So what is the plan?”
“We’re the logistics and the soldiers are…tense, to say the least. It would be smart for us to prepare early,” Kazi clarified.
Marchad approached the table and gestured at the map laid out on the table.
“We have four main forces. The Connacht, the Dal Cais, the Munster, and, of course, the Otherworlders. Our enemy is the same: there are the Mann Vikings, the Dublin Vikings, the Orkney Vikings, and their own Otherworlders. The Orkney and Mann will be coming by ship and are led by Sigurd of Orkney and Brodir respectively.”
Marchad pointed at the water area in the east. There was a red line that went west to land, through Dublin Bay and the heart of the battle: Clontarf. Everything would converge at Clontarf which was above the bridge leading to the capital city of the enemy.
The map was exactly as Kazi memorized it. His plan was also the same.
“The Templars and Holy Dynasty will lead the first rush of attacks. They will go from here, Kilmainham, up to Finegall and plunder. Following that…” His finger went from Finegall, then all the way to right directly at Howth. “...and Howth. It has been explained to us that these two parties are capable of summoning horses at will, thus granting them great efficiency in speed. Upon victory, they will use their signal to advance.”
“We have flares,” Cillian explained.
“Speed. That is our greatest advantage. The Templars and Holy Knights will plan a rush attack that will let them take over the city before the Viking backup arrives,” Marchad said. “Everyone else will be close behind, waiting for the forces of Orkney and Mann.”
“There are only fifty Templars and forty knights of the Holy Dynasty,” Kazi pointed out. “Do you plan to have two people per horse?”
“Exactly.” Cillian, representative of the Templar Order, was rather calm. “Ninety horses will carry a hundred and eighty players. Ordinarily, it would be a four hour walk from Kilmainham to Finegall, and an additional four hours from Finegall to Howth. With horses, however, the whole journey would be two hours at best. Including rest and plundering, less than eight hours total.”
“The time it would take for travel time will instead be squeezed into an assault.” Morchad went on. “Although this does depend on the abilities of the Templars and Holy Knights. If they are not worth what they claim to be…”
“It will be a wasted slaughter,” Toirdelbach finished. “So you better be worth it.”
A sound strategy on paper.
“And what about Sigtrygg?” Kazi asked.
“What about him?” Toirdelbach asked.
“High-King,” Kazi said, addressing the High King specifically. “Your daughter, Sláine, is married to Sigtrygg. I doubt he will leave her side. What will you want us to do with her?”
The eyes of the regional kings went wide, asking themselves, “How does an Otherworlder know about that?”
“...warrior of another world, you overstep your boundaries.” The High King’s threat fell empty. “However…bring her alive. Safe.”
Kazi could only surmise that was the Hidden Objective given the king’s expression.
“I am too old. If you must kill her…”
“We must simply pray it will not come to that,” Marchad said, though in Kazi’s eyes, his words were insincere. His sister’s existence could potentially interfere with his plans of taking over. Of course he didn’t really care.
Just like Kazi predicted.
‘I should consider myself lucky that everyone is so easy to read.’
“An idea then,” Kazi said. “We should have another group join the Templars and Holy Knights. A hundred or so mages will suffice. When they reach Howth, rather than go straight for the capital, this group will sail out.”
“What for?” Marchad asked. “The Vikings will, at best, delay the group. A waste of horses and mages.”
Kazi pointed at Howth. An eastern coast sectioned off and with a single path leading to it. A hook of land that was next to the sea and with plenty of space.
“You’re right, Your Highness. In a direct battle, a hundred men will be useless against a thousand. Thus, I suggest an unconventional strategy. I suggest a pincer attack,” Kazi said. “We know the Vikings will reach land. There’s no stopping that.”
There were a bunch of marks on the map. Potential ways to stop the thousands of men from reaching land and joining the battle. A dozen x-marks and scratches of formations and strategies. Indeed, no strategy had been agreed upon. So far, before he and Samantha intruded, there was a plan to have the Templars and Holy Dynasty Knights sink them from long-range after they plundered the capital.
“It’s useless to sink them in the sea. They will have Otherworlders too. It’s unfortunate, but the Templars and Holy Knights simply don’t have the means to combat them from long-distance. It might not have been detailed in the report but among the fifty Templars and forty Holy Knights I saw only ten mages,” Kazi explained. “So have them reach land. The moment they do, there will be a group of mages ambushing them from behind. And that’s not all…”
Kazi pointed back to their current location: Kilmainham, then went east to Dublin City, the capital. “Have you noticed something about this place?”
No answers.
Kazi’s finger went down south. “There’s supposed to be a river here. River Comac, to be exact, that connects Clondalkin and Dublin City. If our mages go to this river by foot and then travel up, they will arrive at Dublin City at the same time as the Templars and Holy Knights. The wall at the south will not only be unprotected, but the River Comac which connects the whole sewer will be vulnerable.”
“Ah.” High King Brian was intrigued. “I see. Yes, that makes sense. But, my friend, how do you know this river exists?”
“Magic,” Samantha said in his stead. “Trust me, great king. Our magic lets us see faraway distances with ease.”
“As well as simple logic. They are not using the sea for their sewer system. It has to be closer,” Kazi said. “You probably saw River Comac when you were coming here to Kilmainham. It's not on your maps but that water does lead to Dublin City.”
“Hmm! I see, I see.” High King Brian stroked the streaks of brown on his otherwise white beard. “Marchad, this strategy seems sound, no?”
Marchad crossed his arms, glancing from the map and Kazi. “Indeed. Impressive.”
“Even if you don’t think the river exists,” Kazi added, “It won’t take the mages long to break through the walls when there’s an attack at the front. Mages excell at long distance and collateral damage. If we assume we have eighty mages remaining, I suspect it would take them ten minutes to do it.”
“Hmm!”
High King Brian was very much convinced. Whatever other strategies the others had suggested in the past, they were swiftly overshadowed.
Why wouldn’t the king prefer Kazi over everyone else? His voice was soothing and he exuded cool, optimistic confidence. Never arrogant but always upbeat. Open to criticism and constantly offering solutions to potential issues.
“What was your name, good sir?” the High King asked.
“Kazi Hossain.”
“What do you think about leading our army in my son’s stead?”