Against the Tide

Chapter Thirty-four

“UP THE GEESE!” the archers shouted as the first flight of arrows sleeted into the orc formation.

Edmund was watching the progress of the battle from a platform at the rear of the legion lines. As expected, the New Destiny forces reacted poorly to the sudden appearance of the archers.

The legionnaires had been holding the line for nearly an hour, but they were taking relatively few losses while piling up a ton of bodies in front of them. The legionnaires were arranged in a checkerboard formation, rather than shield to shield, the first rank taking the brunt of the fighting, the second rank taking the few who made it past and the third only handling “leakers.” As he watched, the lines shifted and reformed, bringing forward the second rank to take up the battle while the front rank retired, in stages, to be the third. This was one of the secrets that made the legion so effective, the ability to continuously replace their front-ranked fighters with fresh troops and wear the front rank of their enemy down.

Legions in history had never been supported by a longbow corps, but the combination was a natural. One of the two weaknesses of the Roman army had been its reliance on auxiliaries for projectile weapons and the relative weakness of those. Mostly they had used Balearic slingers. A sling was a deadly weapon against unarmored troops but it was relatively short-ranged and of limited utility against any force in armor.

Longbows, on the other hand, were accurate to three hundred meters and could pierce almost any armor at two. With the legions pinning the New Destiny force in place, the archers were having a good killing. As he watched, wave after wave of cloth-yard shafts fell among the orcs, slaughtering them in droves. One of the big “ogres” they had been warned about made its way through the press but before it could even reach the legion lines it began sprouting feathers. Only the feathers were visible, and not many of those, as the arrows punched deep into its flesh. It fell well short of the legionnaire lines, crushing two orcs under it.

It probably wouldn’t have mattered, anyway, because a platoon of pike bearers had rushed to the spot opposite its path, prepared to make their way to the second rank and either fend it off or kill it.

Everything was going precisely to plan except one.

“Where in the hell are the dragons?” Edmund growled, pulling out a pocket-watch. The newfangled/oldfangled things were hideously expensive, but more than worth it when timing was crucial. He looked at the time and put the watch away.

“Late?” General Lepheimer asked.

“Ten minutes,” Edmund replied, sourly. He saw a trickle of orcs falling away on the left flank. Now would be the time to order a charge. But… it wasn’t time yet! Or, rather, it was but he wasn’t ready!

“Damnit, Herzer,” he muttered. “Where are you?”

There was a light wind from the north and Azure suddenly sat up, sniffing the air, his mouth open in a grimace to catch the slightest of scents. After a moment he dropped back to his belly and began slithering forward, purring faintly. He had the scent of the Great One of his human’s household. And where the Great One went, enemies fell before him.

It was payback time.

General Magalong shook his head as he lowered the binoculars. He could see the orcs starting to stream back and the archers on the hillside. But look to the east as he might, he could see no sign of dragons.

“Where are they?” he asked Ensign Van Krief angrily.

“They’ll be here, sir,” Van Krief said. “Now’s the time.”

“There was supposed to be a signal!” Magalong replied. “The dragons were supposed to signal!”

“We don’t have time, sir,” the ensign said. “They’re breaking now. We have to move now to be in position.”

Magalong looked one more time to the east, shielding his eyes and squinting against the sun, then sneezed thunderously. Then he turned to one of his aides and shrugged.

“Open the gates.”

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Colonel Heiskanen said. “You’re a counterintelligence agent. And all those bodies are…?”

“Colonel, I just do what I’m ordered,” Cruz replied. His arms were tied behind him and Heiskanen dangled the key in his own hand. “I was ordered to protect the councilwoman, if possible, and terminate Undersecretary Chambers with extreme prejudice. Since he killed the councilwoman, and the general, I’d say I had reason. Don’t you?”

“So what’s the deal with the big posts?” Heiskanen asked, pointing to the empty portals.

“I have no idea,” Cruz said, looking over at the assembled Blood Lord battalion sadly. “I’d say, though, that you’re about to go somewhere.”

“The last time you were here, officially, we were trying to decide whether to court-martial your ass,” Heiskanen replied, angrily. “And now you tell me you’re a counterintelligence agent? A counterintelligence assassin?”

“Colonel, with all due respect, that’s something for my superiors and your superiors to work out,” Cruz said. “Your job, right now, is to communicate with somebody who knows what the councilwoman’s orders were. Because I don’t. And, sir, I’d do it damned fast if I were you.”

“Listen up, legion!” Magalong shouted from the back of his horse. The legion had exited the walls thrown up around the center of Balmoran and now was deployed in open order on the fields in front. “On my orders you will double-time to the enemy encampment! First Cohort Bravo will refuse the left flank. Third Cohort Charlie will refuse the right. Everyone else will assault through the south gate! It’s supposed to be open! If it’s not we’re going to take it anyway!”

He spun the horse in place and waved forward.

“Quick time… March!”

The legion stepped forward at the repeated commands and Magalong nodded at the bugler. “Sound for double-time.”

As the bugle rang over the formation the legionnaires raised their pilums and began to trot.

“BLOOD AND STEEL!”

“FINALLY!” Edmund shouted, looking up to the east. “Go, go, GO! Signaler, break right!”

“God damn, we’re late,” Herzer shouted.

“Not my fault!” Joanna yelled back. “On my mark… BREAK!”

“Ah, perfect,” Conner said as the orcs began running for the camp. The legion was following at a slower pace, not keeping in contact or breaking to pursue, which was unfortunate but wouldn’t really matter. By the time the second force was through the gates they’d be out of position to be supported by the archers. He looked behind him and smiled as the tide of orcs started spilling out of the portals. They had been drilled carefully. Walk to the portals and then run down the corridors to the north gate. He felt the gate under him creak and smiled as the first of them started spilling onto the field. The retreating orcs had also been drilled. If they came for the main gate they’d be slaughtered like pigs. Go for the sides. And they were, splitting into two streams, the one to the east gate larger by far since it was closer. The main force approaching the legion was masked by the ones in retreat. They might be noticed by the archers, but it was unlikely that even Edmund Talbot…

“Dragons!” one of the sentries yelled, pointing to the east.

“Ah,” Conner said, looking over at Rachel. “And now your vaunted dragons turn up. A day late and more than a credit short.” He turned to look out over the retreating host and grinned. “And they’ll come in and drop their load of fire over the poor retreating orcs, then fly back to their ships. By the time they are turned around, the legion and your elite bow corps will be slaughtered and we’ll have our anti-dragon defenses up and waiting.”

“General,” a messenger panted, coming up the stairs out of breath. “Balmoran…”

“What?” General Kossin said. “What about Balmoran?”

“They’ve sortied, sir,” the messenger said as the orcs pounded by below.

“A forlorn hope?” the general asked. “A cohort?”

“All of them, sir,” the messenger said, desperately. “It’s the whole legion!”

“I don’t have the forces left to repel that,” the general said, angrily. “Unless… move the reserve company to the south gate,” he continued to one of his aides then turned to the others that were hovering around. “Move all forces to the south gate. Hold them off. We’ll deal with them when the rest are through the gates…”

“Spoiler attack,” Conner said, lightly. “You’ve more than enough forces to hold them off.” He glanced up at the dragons and frowned. “They should be turning…”

Rachel finally quit looking out over the field and looked up at the dragons, squinting against the sun. He was right, they should be turning to attack the original force. Unless… they were going to attack the portal force. She was no tactician; she left that up to her father. But she knew something Conner didn’t and it was a balm to her bruised soul.

“Things not going exactly as you planned, Conner?” she asked, sweetly.

“They rarely do,” Conner said, still watching the approaching dragons. “That is the reason for leaders… They’re not attacking the orcs,” he said as the dragons split into four echelons and entered a dive. “They’re attacking us!”

“The legion’s moving,” General Kossin said, angrily. He glanced up at the dragons, determined that none were headed for their position and then ignored them.

“They’re supposed to!” Conner shouted as the first echelon dropped a sheet of napalm over the east gate. The gates were covered with leather against just such an attack as were the towers to either side, but he could see burning orcs abandoning their positions.

“No, they’re moving left,” the general ground out. “Towards the archer hill.”

“What?” Conner said. “What? Impossible!”

“No plan survives contact with the enemy, Conner,” Rachel said, sweetly. “That’s why they call them the enemy.”

“No!” the New Destiny agent said as he saw what the attacking great dragon was carrying. “Noooo!”

“Right about there, I think,” Joanna bellowed, dropping the two open portals in the camp’s main boulevard and flaring out to land. She kept her wings and tail extended as she landed and spun in place, clearing out a quarter acre of land in the process. There were some defenders in the area; they stood as much chance against her as the tents that were smashed to the ground.

Herzer flared out his wyvern just north of the portals and then slid off the side, slapping it on the haunch with his sword even as he blocked an attack with his shield.

“Get out of here you silly thing,” he shouted, gutting the attacking orc and kicking him away. The wyvern got the message, took three awkward hops and was airborne.

Herzer saw Bast interpose herself between a squad of orcs and the wooden portals and he ran to do the same to the north. As expected the tide of orcs that were coming out of the New Destiny portals had been carefully drilled. They were to the north of the UFS portals, and running away. None of them so much as glanced behind and the few officers that tried to stem the tide and get them turned around were bowled over. The only orcs they had to contend with were the remaining defenders in the camp. Those that weren’t either headed for the south gate or immolated in one of the attacks.

Megan had already slid off the greater dragon and was running for them. He checked to make sure nobody was targeting her and then went to work.

Even “relatively few” defenders were far more than the UFS had for this strike. Orcs were coming at them from every side and he closed with the portals to keep them off the, relatively, fragile beams and especially away from Megan.

Bast was doing the same on the other side but the majority of the work was being handled by Joanna. Her tail flashed back and forth, hard and fast like a giant crocodile, and any orc unlucky enough to be caught by it was tossed through the air like a grain of rice. Her wings batted as well and the concussion from them was enough to stun any of the orcs.

One of the big ogres came charging from the south and she hopped over some stunned orcs to engage it. The ogre, for a change, was carrying a huge club. She dodged a clumsy swing and bit the ogre on the head, crushing the massive skull in her teeth.

“Pthack!” she spit. “Damn they taste bad!”

Megan ran through the chaos, jumping over guide-ropes from flattened tents and dodging bits of debris until she reached the open frames of the portals. Then she placed one hand on either frame.

“Mother!” she called. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Miss Travante,” a voice said out of the air.

“There are two portals prepared at Raven’s Mill,” Megan panted. “There should be some Blood Lords waiting. Do you know which ones I’m talking about?”

“Yes, Miss Travante,” the voice said.

“Establish link here,” Megan said. “Code Beta Fourteen. Power Authorization One-Nine-Four-Five.”

The portals blinked to life and Megan jumped between them, out of the way of the tide of elite Blood Lords that would be pouring out any second… any… second…

She waved her hands as if to shoo them through. Waved them again.

“HERZER!”

Herzer spun in place at the scream and looked to see what had happened to her. But Megan was fine.

“What?” he shouted, taking a blow on his armor and dropping his shield to crush the orc’s foot. Then he slid his sword into its neck and turned back. “What?”

“NO BLOOD LORDS!” Megan shouted, dancing from foot to foot. “Where are the Blood Lords!? There was supposed to be a tide of Blood Lords!”

“Shit,” Herzer said under his breath. “Joanna! Cover this side!” he yelled, spitting another orc and dashing to the gate.

He stuck his head through and shook it at the sight that greeted him. The whole battalion was standing at parade rest while the colonel was haranguing someone in a cook’s uniform. He cleared his throat.

“Colonel?” he said, urgently.

“Major Herrick?” Colonel Heiskanen said.

“Yes, sir,” Herzer replied, desperately, waving a blood-spattered sword to point behind him. “Did we forget something, sir?” he asked in a mad voice. “The battle? The orcs? A camp to capture?”

“What orcs?” Heiskanen shouted. “What camp? What the hell is going on?”

Herzer froze at that and then stepped through the gate. There was, precisely, no time to explain and the plan had gone straight to hell. Oh, well.

He looked at the assembled ranks for a brief moment and then raised his sword over his head.

“BLOOD LORDS!” he shouted. “BLOOD TO OUR BLOOD, STEEL TO OUR STEEL.” He spun in place and pointed through the portals. “FOLLOW ME!”

Megan picked up a broken tent pole and fended off the orc that was menacing her, backing towards Bast. Of course, that wasn’t a great option, either. Bast was surrounded by orcs. They were dying, fast, but it didn’t mean one of them wouldn’t get in a blow on Megan.

“Oh, shit,” she said. “Am I dumb or what? Mother, Personal Protection Field, please, Authorization Beta-Charlie.”

As the PPF came live the pole was cut off short. She dropped it and stuck her thumbs in her ears, waggling her fingers at the orc.

“Nah, nah,” she taunted. “You can’t get me!”

The orc raised its sword and let out a hoarse bellow of fury, darting forward just in time to be bowled over by an armored wave.

Herzer smashed into an orc and tossed him aside where he was trampled by the flood of Blood Lords coming through the east gate.

“Portals,” Herzer shouted, turning to face the groups that were running through and gesturing over his back. “Knock ’em down! Knock ’em down! Knock ’em down! Portals, portals, portals! Knock ’em down! Knock ’em down! Knock ’em down!”

Blood Lords were highly drilled but they were also taught to think. Where the tide of orcs was appearing was apparent and the groups spread out, heading for the portals. Others, though, thought of other things and turned aside, spreading a perimeter around their own portals to defend them.

Joanna, seeing that the plan was finally working, headed for the furthest portal to the east. It was just north of the east gate and after she’d flicked it, and its fellow, over with her tail, she headed for that. More Blood Lords moved to follow her.

“Major Herrick,” Colonel Heiskanen said as he made his way through the pandemonium around the gate. “What is going on?”

“Sir, there is no time for explanation,” Herzer said, grabbing a passing officer. “Lieutenant Julicher, grab your platoon and as many others as you can. Head for the south gate,” Herzer said, pointing. “Get it open. Second Legion is coming through at a double-time.”

“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said, and immediately began bellowing for his triari sergeant.

“Joanna!” Herzer bellowed.

“Yo!” Joanna yelled, swinging her tail around and knocking a couple of orcs over.

“Get to Megan and Bast!” Herzer shouted. “Let the troops get the gates. Make sure Megan is okay!”

“Got it!”

“Lieutenant Sosinsky,” Herzer said, grabbing one of the officers just emerging from the west portal. “West gate. Take your platoon, as much of it as you can find. Take it and hold it until relieved.”

“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said, dashing in that direction.

“Take your platoon, I said!” Herzer shouted. “Sergeant Turzak! Get the platoon and try to keep that young idiot alive!”

“Yes, sir!”

“That’s a fisk load of orcs!” Colonel Heiskanen said. “Captain Wallo!”

“Leave ’em alone, sir!” Herzer shouted. “Let them run out the gate! Get the portals knocked over! Then close the gates when they’re out!”

“That’s what this is about!” Heiskanen said, looking around. “Then they’ll beÑ”

“Out there and we’ll be in here with Second Legion, sir,” Herzer said. “No sweat.”

“No sweat, you said!” Gunny Rutherford yelled.

“Oh, shut up!” Edmund yelled back, braining an orc with his hammer.

They were on the front lines of the legion, helping to hold back the first spray of orcs from the main force while half the First Legion did a world record job of constructing a parapet behind them. As promised the lines had been marked out and everything to hand but the timing had turned out to be… a little tricky.

“I should be going swimming about now!” Gunny Rutherford yelled, slamming his shield into an orc and then gutting it from the side. “Making my sacrifice to the Bull God! Maybe having a haircut or picking out which mermaid wench to try to have half-breed babies with!”

“You know you love this shit, you old coot!” Edmund shouted, blocking a blow with his shield and then slamming the hammer into the orc’s unprotected knee. They always forgot to guard the legs.

“We’re about done here, sir!” General Lepheimer yelled from the parapet.

“Well then get the damned archers to give us some fisking space!” Edmund shouted just as he heard a grunt from Gunny.

He leapt to the side and brained the orc that had his sword raised for a killing blow over the fallen noncom. Gunny was still breathing but he had a gash the size of a forearm in his side, the heavy blow from the orc having smashed the loricated plate in. Ribs were visible. Gunny Rutherford wasn’t the only legionnaire down and the shield wall was well and truly broken, just scattered legionnaires left in front of the parapet trying to stem what seemed like all the orcs in the world.

Edmund let out a curse and activated his armor. He’d been saving the charge for desperate times and these seemed desperate enough. It began to glow blue and he felt the fatigue wash away as nannites scoured his body of toxins, enhancing his strength and speed. Not as good as the old days, when he’d first met the gunny and they’d been young idiots trying to bring some order to the shambles that was Anarchia. But good enough.

The general waved the archers forward to the parapet and looked over, searching for the UFS commander. It took him a moment to find him in the pile of bodies. Edmund was a blur. He appeared to have Gunny Rutherford over his back and was wading through the orcs as if they weren’t there, headed for the right-hand bastion.

“Ropes!” the general yelled, pointing to the remaining legionnaires. Some of them had gotten some movement room, if only because Edmund had killed everything in front of them. “Archers!”

The portals were metal set in concrete blocks. They were well stabilized but six or eight Blood Lords could generally push one down.

Lieutenant Sivula stepped back and brushed his hands together, just as there was a thump from underneath the fallen portal.

“That’s gotta hurt,” he said, wincing. For the orcs that had been running through the portals, it had to be like running face first into a brick wall. However, the blocks left a certain amount of space underneath and he could see hands starting to scrabble around the edges. “Ah, weel, now, that’s not on,” he muttered drawing his sword and stabbing under the gate. He was rewarded with a howl and smiled. “Sorry!”