A dirt path communicated between the castle and the harbor fortifications, lined with small guard posts in case of a precipitate retreat. It came right up to the castle doors, behind which were several deep holes drilled with stakes, to support the door against a battering ram. On the other end, it reached the ramparts along the shores of Thunder Bay, built to keep the hostile fleets from disembarking. The whole of the bay was heavily wooded. No landing could be attempted anywhere but a hundred yard stretch on the southern side. It was there that Alfonzo had built a series of fortifications: first, a six foot ditch covered with wooden planks and then three feet of dirt, leaving a hollow tunnel with holes for archers to attack from with impunity; then a tall rampart, its foundation of logs and its top of earth. Several tunnels connected the corridor before the ramparts with the defenders behind them, and those within the first could easily retire when their position was no longer tenable. These connecting tunnels, however, were held open by only a few logs. Thus, with little labor and in no time, a defender could pull these logs from their place and the connecting tunnel would fall in upon itself, sealing the entrance.
The only other human scar on the area was an extension of the Treeway: a series of military platforms built in the upper canopy. They formed a ring around the entire plain, but were most heavily congregated to the north – by Thunder Bay – and to the east – by the route to Eden. Each was garrisoned with a dozen archers and enough supplies to last them months. When the enemy soldiers passed underneath, a thunderstorm of arrows would greet them. They would be unable to return the attack. Still, a dozen men can do little to bodies of five thousand. The rangers assigned to these platforms were only partly in place, with the remaining rangers placed under Blaine and Osbert, to harass the advancing legions as they came through the heart of the forest.
These plans were all shown on the map. When those present had finished looking over them, the conversation resumed. Milada spoke first:
MILADA: You have done well in my sickness, Alfonzo. But what did I expect? I have known you for many years and you have never been weak or unprepared.
LORENZO: No, but he is a warrior, by Isaiah! But as a man of God, I am pained by the loss of his house.
ALFONZO: You have a room for the altar and for worship, but more we cannot spare.
LORENZO: Of course, of course! But I loathe the beating of the church into a castle and the plow into a sword; yet if we can beat the enemy into the ground, I will still rejoice.
ADMIRAL: Loathe, indeed, Oren; but God has no place in councils of war. I see you made no plans to defend the bay by ship, Alfonzo, and I assume you leave that to me.
ALFONZO: I do.
ADMIRAL: Very well, I will begin at once. Milada, I trust you did not lose sight of the chain we took from Gylain after the coup?
MILADA: Not at alclass="underline" it sits in the basement armory as we speak.
ADMIRAL: It is not wise to put such a massive chain in a basement armory, for it will be difficult to remove. It was built to protect the harbor in Eden, but it will do just as well in Thunder Bay. After that, we will sink whatever debris we can, to foul their larger ships. Then we can only hold the line or be damned.
ALFONZO: Any word from abroad?
ADMIRAL: None.
They were interrupted by a sharp knock on the outside door, which was opened without a wait. A man walked in, just from the forest: he smelled of trees and air. He wore leather armor, somewhat dirty, and his beard was thick, dark, and in every way the beard of a forest man.
MAN: A message for Alfonzo, from Osbert and Blaine.
ALFONZO: Go on.
MAN: We have met the enemy, sir. I was dispatched right away, to raise the alarm.
ALFONZO: Very good; and their number?
MAN: Five thousand, at least: the same force that left Eden two days ago. Blaine hopes to cripple them before they gain the open plain.
ALFONZO: He is ambitious, if trusty. Still, if he does not cripple them, they will do the same to us. It is time, friends: to war!
With that, he left the room to attend the preparations, as did the others.
Chapter 83
It was late afternoon, though the sun had already set in the deep Atiltian forest. The distance became invisible, the veranda blocked by rising trees. Still, the forest rangers could see what others could not.
“It begins,” Osbert said to Blaine Griffith, who stood beside him.
The former, with his low tide lips and sandy hair, wore only a plain leather jerkin. A bow rested in his hand and a large quiver on his back, while his leaf-shaped bronze sword was left in his belt. Blaine was attired in the same manner, though adorned with his animal eyes. In civilization, he was a meek and indirect man; in the wilderness a beast, a fierce hunter, a man of arms.
“So I have heard,” Griffith said. “The men say they are five thousand strong and our lives are forfeit in the attempt.”
“The men say many things,” Osbert hesitated, “Though in this they may be right. Come, old friend, let us grasp hands for the last,” and the two embraced firmly. “Once we reveal ourselves we will not rest until the battle is won, for us or for them.”
“So it will be: you take the left and I will have the right. There are arrows hidden along the way; perhaps we will meet when we rearm ourselves.” Griffith paused. “We will fish when we are through: you, me and Barnes. The men say the trout are best this time of year.”
Osbert looked away and the moist air condensed around his eyes. “Yes, we will have our trout.”
They crouched low to the ground as they spoke, a hundred yards from a large body of marching soldiers. While they stood directly before the soldiers’ path, there were two bodies of rangers – each a hundred strong – hiding to the left and right. The two friends returned to their men and took their positions in the fore. None of them wore armor or shields or helmets, only a bow and a bronze sword and a quiver of arrows on their backs. In the forest, nothing more was needed.
Osbert knelt behind an exposed root as he reached his men, taking his bow and fitting an arrow to its string. The others did the same.
“Let us not shoot too powerfully,” he whispered, “For beyond the soldiers crouch our comrades. If Gylain’s soldiers charge, fall back without hesitation and reform in the distance. We are not here to meet them in battle, but to weaken them for our comrades.”
In front of the soldiers rode an officer on horseback, a magnificent plume of feathers making his helmet conspicuous. Osbert pulled his arrow back until its string was steel, then waited: he could not shoot until they advanced to a certain spot, when both sides would attack simultaneously. The officer came forward slowly, drawing ever nearer to the fateful spot. Then, the same instant the horse’s hoof hit the spot, Osbert released his arrow. Its tail swirled silently as it sliced the air, then came a hollow clang, then the officer fell lifeless to the ground with an arrow camped in either side of his helmet. Yet before he had fallen, there was another arrow on Osbert’s string, and it was sent away as the officer’s body hit. The air was devoured by a dim droning and obscured by flashes of horizontal lightning.