‘Will we win, Grand Master?’ Goodfellow asked nervously and,with that,the old man actually smiled.
‘Of course, young Master Goodfellow,’ he assured. ‘But,unfortunately, this is the kind of battle that could drag on for some time if they stand their ground. It makes little sense for us to waste our resources trying to drive them away, so we have nothing to lose by waiting it out. We are near to fresh provisions, while they have vast supply chains to maintain. Feeding their army will cost them dearly and I doubt they will be able to sustain their men here for too long. When that army begins getting hungry, dissent will begin running through its ranks. When we are reinforced with General Warren’s remaining forces, our position will be even more secure. Once they break their position and start their retreat,we can harry them all the way back to Garteny. Shame on them for not obtaining better intelligence! If they had known how defenceless the town was up until now, I am sure they would have hurried their plans and everything would have worked out differently. I understand it was your illusions that may have kept them at bay-luckily for us all.’
‘But why even bring the army to battle?’ Eric asked. ‘With you and the other Lions here surely we have won already?’
‘I wish it were so, Master Pot, but we can only do so much. The wild men of the north are easily routed once their might has been challenged, but the core of the Garten army is more disciplined and will fight on valiantly. They are experienced in fightingagainstmagicians and will,nodoubt,have brought many of their own. No, the Lions are certainly a boon for this battle, but the armies will decide its outcome. We will bide our time before we assist. If we wear ourselves out at the start, we could not counter their magic, should any be brought into play. Nevertheless, if our estimates of their numbers are correct, we will have the decisive victory, even without General Warren’s aid. Remember, too, that the war will go on long after this battle. We must keep our losses to a bare minimum so we can continue on to the Marrow River, where we hope to push the Gartens back even further. This seems to be rather a turning point in the war…at last.’
‘What can we do, Grand Master?’ Samuel asked, hoping to prove useful.
‘Sit tight, next to me. The Council’s command is to keep you from harm’s way and that order still stands. Just keep your eyes and your ears open. If I tell any of you to do something, you had better do it quickly and without question. You may not be boys any longer, but I can still clip your ears hard enough to teach you a lesson, should the need arise.’
A steady drumbeat sounded from the north, echoing along the valley and,in the distance,another great wall of invaders loomed. Old Grand Master Anthem looked towards them from beneath his forlorn brows and he considered the sight with a heavy heart.
‘How can it be that it has come to this again,’ the old magician said softly, ‘that I must once again face my own countrymen? Garten against Garten. I had promised old Grand Master Vim so much more than this. How our plans have fallen into disarray!’
‘Not by choice, Janus,’ Grand Master Gallivan consoled him. ‘None of us would be here, given the choice. This time, it was Otgart’s decision to bring the war to us. We did all we could to prevent this.’
Anthem sighed. ‘I’m sure he thinks he is doing the right thing. After all this time, given a chance to defeat the Empire, I can understand his decision to take the bull by the horns. If only his patience had lasted just a few yearslonger. We only needed a little more time to tame the ruinous Empire. Perhaps our promises did little to make good for the past sins of the Emperor?’
‘We can only do what we can,’ Gallivan responded.
It took a painfully long time for the next wave ofNorth-men to approach, for they marched abreast and without hurry, chanting and singing to the rhythm of their drums, until they stopped short some thousand paces away. Just as Anthem has said, these men had little in common with the wild brutes that had been sent in first. They stood proudly, donned in mail and leather armour and holding their swords and shields at the ready, awaiting their commands with patience. They looked almost a match for the Turian men.
‘Why have they stopped?’ Goodfellow asked in a whisper.
‘They are waitingbeyondour missile range,’ Anthem explained. ‘They will ready bowmen of their own, but we have the high-ground advantage and thus further range.’
‘Who will act first?’ Samuel asked, but Anthem did not answer. His mouth was hanging open in expectation and he was gazing along the rise to where his fellow Lions stood waiting, sentinels of the battle.
General Canard’s flagman shook a blue banner high and from behind came an incredible clatter as every Turian bowman unleashed his weapon in unison. The air hummed vibrantly, ominously darkened by the cloud of arrows that soared up and overhead. The arrows arched through the air, sailing high before raining down upon the battleground with a calamitous series of thuds and clacks,but little else. The Gartens had measured their ground well and most of the arrows fell short, sticking into the mud harmlessly or punching into the bodies that already lay there, turning them into feathered porcupines. Only a few arrows managed to make the extra distance and they clanged without effect upon the raised Garten shields. Once the air was clear, theNorth-men lowered their shields again and began clattering their swords upon them in celebration. The sound of their beating and whooping echoed between the hills.
‘They seek to lure us down,’ Anthem said, ‘but time is on our side. Let’s give them a few hours to settle down and then we will see about sending you three home.’
Anthem had barely finished speaking when a great commotion began amongst the Garten army. Horns sounded at their rear and the host jostled nervously whilst many heads looked around in confusion. Then, all at once, as if reluctantly accepting the command, the whole valley began to seethe forward towards the waiting Turians. Against all belief, the Gartens charged as one.
‘By the gods! What’s this?’ Anthem hissed.
General Canard began urgently shouting commands and his captains rushed away as his banner-men and trumpeters contended to keep up with his orders. A second volley of arrows was unleashed and it felledGartens by the hundred. Regardless, the men continued their charge and the Turians waiting along the risemadetheir spears and swordsbattle readyto meet them.
‘This is madness!’ Anthem swore. ‘What can they hope to achieve? This is not warfare; it is suicide. Who is commanding those troops?’
Archers continued to shower theNorth-men with arrows, but the foremost waves of men were already halfway across the gap, screaming defiantly with one deafening voice as they came. Imperial soldiers jostled into place, firming up the lines to meet the oncoming assault.
Goodfellow shuffled nervously. ‘What are they doing, Grand Master? Is this usual?’
‘Not at all. This foolishness cannot hope to break through and it will cost them dearly. I can only think they have some alternative strategy if they can afford to waste good men like this. It will rattle their morale to know they are being sent to slaughter and the battle will go downhill for them after this. What can they be thinking?’
The Garten army met the bottom of the rise and continued up it without a pause. They charged up the slope with a tumultuous war cry and threw themselves into the waiting barrier of swords and spears and shields with an earth-shattering clamour. All along the battlefront,men hacked and slashed at each other madly,and blood rained forth and sprayed high, spilling down the hill in scarlet rivers.
‘The Garten signals are very strange,’ Gallivan noted. ‘Their horns call for urgent attack and nothing else-attack, attack, attack. It’s puzzling, to say the least. This is not a tactic-it is suicide. They are desperate, but I cannot see the cause.’
A bearded scout came running towards General Canard and Anthem led them over to hear the news. The scout was breathless as he ran to the bulky general’s side. ‘An army approaches from the south!’