The battalion-captain looked down at the large-scale, detailed, and painstakingly accurate map of Fort Ghartoun on the flat rock before him, its corners weighted down by handy stones.
The fort lay in the White Snake Valley, the depression running roughly northeast to southwest along the serpentine course of the White Snake River. The portal to New Uromath cut diagonally across the valley on a northwest to southeast line little more than a mile south of the fort. Like the much larger Tyrahl River, the White Snake flowed into the portal and disappeared, but Fort Ghartoun was three miles from the stream’s nearest approach. Although the terrain east of the fort offered valleys, ridgelines, and seasonal watercourses for cover, it was nowhere near as heavily forested as the steeper, more rugged slopes between the fort and Snow Sapphire Lake, eight or nine miles to the west of it. Approaching it from the east-and especially from the northeast-without being detected had been a ticklish proposition, and chan Yahndar had been glad he was using horses and not Bisons for the final approach. Hiding those vehicles would have been a much more ticklish proposition, and even on horseback he’d been unable to get his men as close to the fort as he would have preferred. Still, they’d gotten one hells of a lot closer than they ought to have gotten against an alert opponent…even one who didn’t have dragons and eagle-lions
Now, as he gazed down at his map, a meditative index finger tapped the crayon mark which indicated Grithair chan Mahsdyr’s Gold Company. Given how successfully-even brilliantly-chan Mahsdyr had led the advance all the way across four universes, there’d been no question who’d earned the opportunity to lead the assault on Ghartoun, and Gold Company lay roughly three and a half miles southeast of the fort, between the White Snake and a ridgeline hiding it from the flat terrain around the fort. Ulysar chan Lyrkad’s Silver Company was deployed on Gold Company’s right flank, a mile and a half farther back-the terrain was more open and less forgiving northeast of the fort, and he hadn’t been able to get as close-while Company-Captain Lerkhali chan Dasam’s Bronze Company was deployed another three miles north-northeast of Silver Company, more to prevent anyone from scampering off in that direction than to participate in the attack itself. Company-Captain Vynchair chan Zelmahdyn’s Copper Company formed 2nd Battalion’s reserve, although a reserve was probably about as necessary as teats on a boar hog, given the Distance Viewers estimates of the fort garrison’s strength. The Arcanans had no more than three companies-indeed, little more than two full strength companies-in the fort, and it was obvious they had no idea what was coming.
He snorted at the thought, and his finger moved back to the position of Company-Captain Temyk chan Esmahr’s 103rd Battery, Imperial Ternathian Horse Artillery, located on a bend of the White Snake six miles east of the fort. The mortars of Company-Captain Namair chan Jersyk’s weapons company had been moved up to support chan Mahsdyr and chan Lyrkad, but chan Esmahr’s horse artillery had its part to play, as well, although it had proved impractical to get his six Ternathian 37s into position for direct fire on Fort Ghartoun. Fortunately, chan Esmahr had been reinforced. In addition to the pair of 4.3” howitzers of his own Steel Section, the Steel Section of the 116th Horse Artillery had been attached to his command. That gave him four of the weapons, and they had the range to reach Fort Ghartoun easily from their present position. Which meant eighteen mortars and four howitzers were poised to open fire on the fort the instant he gave the command. He was sure chan Jersyk and chan Esmahr would have preferred to register their weapons ahead of time, but one couldn’t have everything, and chan Yahndar had complete faith in their gunners.
And the poor bastards’ve humped their guns and mortars over sixteen thousand miles to get here. It’d be a shame if they didn’t get to fire a shot.
That was good for an actual chuckle, not just a snort, and he looked back up at chan Lyscarn.
“Well, if everybody’s ready, I suppose we should see about passing that order, Tahnthair,” he said.
* * *
Temyk chan Esmahr twitched as Battalion-Captain chan Yahndar’s Flicker dropped the message canister neatly into the basket by his elbow. He snatched up the small steel tube, twisted it open, and glanced at its contents. Then he looked up at Platoon-Captain Horahstyr chan Wayshyr.
“Open fire!” he snapped.
* * *
“Open fire!” Company-Captain Namair chan Jersyk barked, looking up from the message slip in his hand.
* * *
Verchyk Gorsatan had exactly zero warning.
One instant he was dashing his signature across the latest report from Fort Ghartoun’s cooks; the next instant four howitzer shells and eighteen mortar bombs came slicing out of a cloudless morning sky. It was true that chan Esmahr and chan Jersyk had been denied any ranging shots, but they and their men were very good at their jobs and there’d been plenty of time to position their weapons with finicky precision. Two of the 3” mortar bombs fell outside the fort’s palisade. They were the only shots that did.
None of Gorsatan’s men had any more warning than their CO. Half were still in the mess hall, and aside from the dozen or so sentries on the walls and in the fort’s watchtower-none of whom had seen a single thing-not one of them was even armed. The cascade of high explosive and steel thundering down upon them was as terrible-and as totally unexpected-as any attack the AEF had launched on its way up-chain to Fort Salby, and the gunners and mortar crews had all the ammunition they could want.
The explosions and deadly splinters of steel turned the fort’s interior into a holocaust. Commander of One Hundred Gorsatan’s chair crashed over backward as he leapt to his feet, his eyes wide. It was impossible. It couldn’t be happening! Not here-not so many thousands of miles behind the front line! But it was happening, and warrior or not, it was his job to do something about it.
His mouth tightened and he crossed his office in two strides, yanked the office door open, and started through it.
The thirty-two-pound 4.3” shell sliced through the cedar shingles above him at a velocity of approximately eight hundred and ninety feet per second.
* * *
“Now!”
The bugles began to sound-high, fierce, and strong-and 1st Platoon, Gold Company, 2nd Battalion, 12th Dragoon Regiment, came over the ridgeline in a line of mounted men. The company’s other platoons followed them, dust rising from the hooves of the horses which had carried them so far. The Imperial Ternathian Army’s cavalry were dragoons. Oh, there were still officially lancer “Arpathian” lancer regiments in the ITA, but they were indistinguishable from dragoons these days, except for the uniforms. No Ternathian mounted formation had delivered an actual cavalry charge in seventy years, but there was a time and a place for everything.
Gold Company had five miles to cover, and it was in a hurry.
* * *
“Mother Jambakol!”
Sword Falstan Makraik clutched at the observation tower’s railing as the interior of Fort Ghartoun erupted like twice a dozen volcanoes. Blast fronts and shrieking splinters ripped through the observation tower’s floor, and he heard screams behind him. The fire seemed to be coming from the east, and he raced around to that side of the platform, ignoring the white-hot steel death hissing past him, trying desperately to locate its source.
Nothing. He could see nothing, and he swore again, even more foully than before. The godsdamned Sharonians and their godsdamned artillery! No Arcanan heavy weapon could fire over obstacles that way, but the Sharonians could! Only how could they be here?!