Touch of Fate

Chapter 232: On the Verge of Calamity

Chapter 232: On the Verge of Calamity

"Sir! The Ashborn are moving to attack the enemy!" Fredrick yelled as he pulled open the tent flap.

Morris snapped awake, already rolling out of his cot before the adjutant's words had penetrated the fog of his sleep-addled brain. It didn't take him long to respond in a suitable manner. "Shit. How many? How long ago did they leave?"

"We think they took the majority of their warriors, somewhere in the region of 4000 orcs. The lead elements departed roughly twenty minutes ago, with the remainder following shortly thereafter." The old soldier replied.

Morris paused in the process of pulling on his boots to look up. "Why wasn't I informed earlier?"

"Sir, they claimed to be conducting reconnaissance in force under your orders. The officer on duty was given written documents to that effect that included your signature. It was only after they'd left the compound and started marching towards the Tenundian camp that we realized the deception."

Gritting his teeth, Morris stood, grabbing his campaign cloak and throwing it over his shoulders.

[They must have forged my signature. Gah! I should have implemented stricter security measures for written orders.] He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

[There will be time for kicking myself later. Now, I need to focus on how to mitigate the damage this will cause.]

He essentially had two options. One, he could abandon the Ashborn, allowing them to win or lose on their own. This was the route he was inclined to follow, since they'd disobeyed his direct orders. Not that he could really blame them for that, since they were only allies, and therefore weren't really beholden to him or his authority. Only his father's reputation had kept them in line up to this point, but the Count had been gone long enough for even that to fade.

Quite frankly, he was surprised that the warlike Ashborn had stayed their hands as long as they did. He'd been fully expecting them to simply walk out of camp one day, saying that they'd had enough. Which, now that he thought about it, was a far more believable scenario than this misdirection with orders. It was frankly uncharacteristic of Talgratha and her people.

[Is something else involved? Or someone?] It was worth looking into once the current crisis had passed.

His other option was to move to support the Ashborn's attack. Strategically, this was probably the best option. The coalition army was superior in terms of both numbers and equipment, and would likely make short work of the Tenundian rearguard and their orcish allies. However, this would not only defy his father's commands, but put the already delicate balance of power among the members of the coalition at risk. In the worst case scenario, it could lead to the dissolution of the army in its entirety.

Ordinarily, this kind of decision would require careful deliberation, but he didn't have the time. Acting on instinct, he decided to proceed with the second option, which he hoped had the best chance of maintaining the cohesiveness of the coalition army.

Following through on the Ashborn's attack would require his personal supervision. He would need to be on site to coordinate the haphazard addition of his troops, when they were available.

Morris forcibly calmed himself, and began giving commands. "Go find General Holmes and have him get the cavalry ready to move. I want them to move up behind the Ashborn, and prepare to act when I give the signal to do so. Also, I want him to assign a team of twenty skilled combatants to be ready to follow me when I depart. When you are done with that, get the command section to issue a stand-to warning. We need everyone up and ready to fight as soon as possible."

The adjutant saluted, and started sprinting towards the south side of the compound, where the horse were being kept.

Morris scoured the nearby tents. He needed to get ready himself, but that would require assistance. Luckily, he spotted one of the Graveston footmen nearby, and Morris was able to direct him to prepare his horse and armor. The man went to grab a few of his colleagues and swore that he would complete his task in short order.

Commands given and preparations made, he stalked over to the mostly deserted command tent and took a moment to look over the current scouting reports on the enemy's location and formation. By all appearances, they were still holding to their defensive earthworks on the top of a nearby hill, but suspected that would change once the battle started in earnest.

His strategists had long ago noticed the weakness in the Tenundian defensive perimeter, a narrow, but gentle slope on the northern side of the hill, which would be ideal for potential attackers. Not only was it the most easily accessible section of the defenses, but its unusual shape limited the defender's field of fire, greatly reducing the damage one could expect to receive during an assault. It was such an obvious vulnerability, that any commander with a modicum of military experience would have gone to great lengths to reinforce it, yet the Tenundians hadn't done so. Which was precisely why Morris had his tacticians plan to attack from other directions, should it have become necessary.

Unfortunately, since he'd never intended to actually launch an assault on the encampment, he hadn't bothered to share his opinions of the approach to his commanders. So, he was concerned that Talgratha and her errant tribe might head for the weak point without considering what sorts of traps might be laid there.

[Surely she's smarter than that.] He tried to convince himself, knowing that it was probably futile to hope. The half-orc was intelligent by the standards of her people, but she suffered from the same directness and single-mindedness. This made her an extremely effective leader when there was a clear goal in sight, but it could cause her to ignore or try to fight through obstacles that she'd be better off avoiding.

He could all too easily see her finding the easy approach suspicious, but deciding to attack up it anyway, trusting on the ferocity of her charge to push her way though any difficulty.

While looking over the map, he considered his options. [If I can get them to divert to the other side of this ridge line, then I can bring up the rest of the army to pressure the main front here. They'd be a bit exposed, and will probably have a hard time overcoming the defensive line, but its better than the alternative.]

He was still musing on tactics, when a pair of Graveston footmen arrived bearing his armor, a suit of field plate. With practiced ease they assisted him with the laborious process of putting it on, and in a few short minutes, he stepped out of the command tent, dressed for battle.

His horse was tied at the hitching post nearby, and surrounded by the contingent of cavalry he'd requested. Apparently General Holmes had appreciated the urgency of the situation, and had his men moving with their trademark swiftness.

The team was led by a captain wearing the uniform of the Eastern Army. She saluted Morris as he approach to began the laborious process of getting onto his horse in full armor. "My lord, we're here as requested. General Holmes wanted me to tell you that he'd have 2000 horsemen in place within thirty minutes."

Morris was impressed. The Eastern Army's cavalry division had a reputation for effectiveness on the battlefield, and he was beginning to see why. Getting that many soldiers up and moving was a monumental task in and of itself. Having them formed up nearly a half-kilometer away within thirty minutes was nearly miraculous.

"Good." He replied once he was situated. "In case you haven't been told, we'll be supporting the Ashborn in their attack. However, I need to confer with their leader as soon as possible. Please escort me to them."

"Yes, my lord." She answered with another salute, before flashing a quick hand sign that had the rest of the team moving towards the camp's exit. They were quickly ushered through once the guards caught sight of Morris. Once on the plain, they fanned out and formed a loose, moving perimeter around him.

[Now, lets see. Where did they get off to...]

While scanning the horizon, he caught a glimpse of movement to the southwest, in a span of tall grass that stretched across much of the intervening land between the two encampments. In the early morning light, he could just make out the wide break in the otherwise gently waving grass which marked the road leading west. As he watched, several humanoid shapes slid through the area, heading in the direction of the Tenundian encampment. Unless he missed his guess, it looked like they were heading toward the weak point in the defensive network.

"Over there." He said while pointing. The captain nodded, and then flashed a few hand signals to the rest of the cavalry squad, causing them to change course with ease.

[Now if I can just get to Talgratha before-]

Several bright red lights appeared in the air over the encampment, illuminating the grasslands. For a moment, he feared that his team had been spotted, but the sounds of combat from the southwest dispelled that notion. He realized he must have spotted the Ashborn's rear elements.

"Shit!" He cursed, before turning towards the captain. "Get me over there. I need to see what's going."

"Are you sure, my lord?"

"Unfortunately, yes. If I'm going to salvage anything of this situation, I need to be in the thick of it." He answered as they broke into a gallop, making conversation largely impossible.

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"Send the Tuskbreakers around to the west. Tell them to get past that trench, even if it means filling it with their bodies!" Talgratha commanded imperiously. The effect was ruined, however, when she was forced to duck a low flying arrow. She growled at her aides, "Where are the archers? What are they doing?"

"Most of them are still struggling through the mud pit. They were nearly five minutes behind us when the attack started." The orc responsible for coordinating troop movments responded defensively.

"Well, tell them to hurry up! We'll need the covering fire if we want any hope of storming this place." She blustered, trying to sound confident. However, she couldn't help the unease which had settled into the pit of her stomach.

The plan had been to launch a surprise assault just before dawn, taking the defenders by surprise. That required the Ashborn to remain unseen until the very last moments, and then storm the earthworks quickly to avoid getting bogged down and destroyed piecemeal by the enemy's archers. For those reasons, she chose to attack the northern slope, despite the fact that it was likely heavily defended. She'd hoped that a combination of surprise, and the intensity of the Ashborn's attack would be sufficient to break through the defenses before too much damage could be done.

Things had gone well initially. Their vanguard, composed of veteran skirmishers from the eastern fringes of the Ash Mountains, had succeeded in closing to a scant ten meters in front of the earthworks without being noticed. She'd just given the order for them to begin the assault, when the terrain simply shifted.

A deep, chasm-like opening in the ground appeared directly in front of the enemy defenses, while at the same time, the grassy soil underneath them turned into a quagmire of sticky mud. Before she had any chance to issue another set of orders, several flares had risen from the enemy encampment, and with them came a rain of arrows.

[They were ready for us!] Talgratha had thought to herself, before ordering the Ashborn's few mages to do what they could to solidify the ground again. She knew they would have difficulty overcoming the spells of the Tenundian mages, but didn't see any other option. They needed to push through the torn ground in order to come to grips with the enemy.

Part of her thought it would be wiser to retreat and cut her losses, but her pride wouldn't allow it. She'd been harassing the Graveston heir for days about launching just this sort of assault, fully believing that it would be an easy victory, even without the rest of the coalition army, but he'd turned her down time and time again.

She'd thought the man a coward, unwilling to step out from the shadow of his father, and unworthy to lead the army in his absence. When it became clear that he had no intention of doing anything more than digging in and waiting for the situation to change, she'd decided to take matters into her own hands.

To fall back now would be tantamount to admitting that he was right and she was mistaken, and she would be damned before she let that happen.

"Chief! We got cavalry coming up on our right!" One of her aides called.

"Kerthok!" She cursed while turning to follow the orc's pointing finger. There, she saw a handful of armored figures moving through the grass in their direction.

[Looks like a detachment. Could they be scouts for a larger force? Wait...who's...]

Talgratha growled as she recognized one of the leading figures. "That's the Graveston whelp. Let them through."