Knights of Aralia Book II: Evil Rising

Chapter XII: Strategy

Many miles away to the west where the high summer sun shone brightly across the Great Plains, an Aylarine commander named Durth leaned over the corpse of his latest victim. This one had been a simple farmer. Unlike the better-off horse breeders, there wasn’t much worth looting from his type, though this one did have on a ring that looked like it had some value. Losing patience with it after a minute of struggle, he finally pulled out his wicked knife and hacked the finger off. The blood slick made it much easier to discard the unwanted digit. He wiped the excess off on his armoured loin cloth, then examined his prize more closely. The ring was small and silver, embedded with a single miniscule ruby. It would never fit on his massive hands, of course, but it was a thing of beauty just the same. Satisfied, he pocketed the farmer’s sole treasure and stood up.

Durth was especially large, even for an Ayla, and thus especially intimidating. His presence alone was daunting to friend and foe alike—not that he had many friends. His preference for solitude and formidable intelligence made him a little estranged from other Aylar, and made him perfect officer material in the eyes of his superiors. It had not taken him long to distinguish himself from the rest in the training pits back in Aylland during his youth. Lord Algoron himself had issued the order to make him a captain when he came of age. Then, when Lord Caritus had formed his alliance with the Dark One, Algoron had decided to send a force to assist his ally’s smaller army in his conquest of the West. Among that force of Aylar was Captain Durth, now a colonel in charge of the largest raiding party this side of the Bluefall Mountains.

Around him, other Aylar pillaged through the burning wreckage of the village that had become the latest victim of the Army of Southern Cairaga. All the villagers too slow to flee had met fates similar to the dead farmer’s. As commander of this force, he was not as excited about the looting as were the troops under him, but he did help himself to an occasional trinket that struck his fancy, and no one contested him if he wanted it.

Colonel Durth took a quick survey of his surroundings. There were the usual tussles over objects of especial value, but one in particular caught his attention. A woman was screaming out simultaneous curses and pleas for mercy from an Ayla and a Cairagan who were fighting over who would claim her. Durth sighed, pulled his single-edged iron cutlass out of the ground where he’d planted it point first, and strode over to the scene. The tussle immediately stopped as he inquired in his gruff, imminently threatening voice, “What’s goin’ on here?”

“I saw this woman first, Colonel,” replied the Cairagan. “Therefore she’s mine, by right of conquest.”

“An’ I says she’s mine, sir,” responded the Ayla. “He’s already got plenty o’ loot.”

Durth looked from one to the other and gave a wave for them to let go of the woman. Ere she could properly react, he had swung his sword once, nearly slicing her in half.

“There,” said Durth, resting the reddened blade on his shoulder as the blood pooled on the ground beside his feet. He grinned dangerously at them both. “Now you can split the prize.”

He turned and strode off, leaving the dumbfounded soldiers to back away in disgust from the gutted corpse. As far as Durth was concerned, their job here was done and it was time to get out. The smoke rising high into the air from the burned-out settlement could be seen for miles in this open country. It was only a matter of time before some Ralgarian cavalry patrol spotted it and brought a company of riders down to bear on them. They were not strong enough to deal with that, so he raised his sword high and called to his troops to “Move out!”

No one challenged his order. To do so was instant death. Some were slightly annoyed that they had not settled their disputes, but they moved swiftly and efficiently without further complaint. Within minutes they were once again gathered and off at a brisk pace back toward their main camp to the east. The men hopped on their horses and rode ahead. Aylar did not generally ride horses, and nor did they need to. For although they were built much like Humans in size and shape, they were far stronger. What they frequently lacked in intellect and independent initiative they made up for in sheer endurance. This was partly owing to the strenuous physical training back in Aylland, and partly from their breeding.

No one knew exactly what Aylar were. Some said they were results of experimental crossbreeding between Humans and Draga, but the lack of tails seemed to suggest some other origin. Whatever the case, two things were certain about them: They had a tendency for needless violence, and with the exception of a rare few, they were more followers than leaders.

The Aylar in this and other raiding parties wore only the lightest armour if any at all to maintain speed and stay cool beneath the hot summer sun. Most, including Durth, wore only their armoured loin cloths. Officers had their rank marks branded clearly onto their left breast and the right side of the neck, so identifying their leaders was no problem in or out of uniform.

Fortunately, the camp was only a couple miles away, so the trek was not that difficult. It was late afternoon when they arrived back from their foray, quite weary and footsore, but well pleased and laden with trinkets. Durth immediately went to fetch some water to fill his canteen. For all their strength, Aylar were not immune to the effects of thirst, and he took his time drinking his fill. One of the lesser officers—a captain by the name of Kharokh—approached as he did.

“Good run, eh Durth?” he questioned.

“Decent,” replied the raider in his usual curt way.

“Bring anythin’ back with you?” pressed the captain eagerly.

“What if I did?” asked Durth, eying his companion warily.

“Always suspicious, ain’t you Durth?”

Durth drew the ring from his pocket. “Take it and be off.” He tossed it to the captain, who had been one of his fellows since training back in Aylland. Kharokh grabbed it eagerly and tucked it away.

“You’re a good un, Durth,” he said, patting his friend on the back. “For such a bad un, that is. General wants to see you, by the way.”

“I’ll be there,” sighed Durth.

“Sounded pretty urgent, Colonel. You might wanna’ hurry.”

“I said I’ll be there,” said Durth with a fearsome glare.

Knowing better than to press his luck with the larger Ayla, Kharokh beat a hasty retreat and said no more. Durth sighed again when the captain was gone. It had been a long day, and he was just as tired as any of his troops. It figured Gallinus would call on him now.

Durth had never liked General Gallinus. He was the pretentious sort, demanding the respect of everybody while doing very little to earn it. He was also the very envious older cousin of Lord Caritus, to whom Durth owed a deep allegiance. It was rather strange, Durth’s attachment to Caritus. Whether it was the order from his master Lord Algoron or Caritus’s natural aura of leadership, none could say, but regardless, he held the Cairagan monarch’s will second only to Algoron’s.

Having regained his breath after the long trek, and feeling somewhat refreshed, he hauled himself up and ambled slowly over to the general’s tent. No need to hurry, he figured. Doubtless Gallinus would just unload a bunch of admonitions and complaints on his head anyway. “Advice” he called it, and he gave it whether asked or not. As the guards stepped aside to admit him, Durth braced himself for another unpleasant exchange. He then passed through the door flaps.

The tent was sparsely furnished, with but a single plain table in the centre and a couple of chairs pushed off to one side. General Gallinus stood poring over an enormous parchment that draped over the sides of the table. On it was scrawled a large, detailed map of Ralgar and surrounding territories. He glanced up for a second from his studies.

“Enter, Colonel,” he said in that authoritative drawl characteristic of his family. Durth came forward.

“You sent for me, General?” Keep your responses short, he reminded himself.

“I did, actually,” replied Gallinus, looking up. “I have a few matters to discuss with you.”

“Such as?”

“Your relative lack of progress, for one.”

Here comes the advice!

“These raids of yours seem to be producing little effect on the Ralgarian ability to wage war,” said General Gallinus. “You claimed this tactic would prove invaluable to our efforts, and yet all they seem to have done is motivate the horsemen to be more aggressive at great cost to our men. What have you to say for yourself?”

“Let me off of your leash, you pompous fool!” Durth wanted to shout. But, wisely maintaining a calm exterior, he explained logically, “I am carrying out Lord Caritus’s plan, sir, but I don’t have the freedom of movement nor the troops I need to be really effective. All the major settlements are in Central Ralgar or along the coast. But between the Fellhorn Gorge and that fortress watching every move we make, I can’t get at ‘em.”

“So then, what do you suggest?” continued Gallinus in an aggravating, almost patronizing tone.

“I suggest you take out that garrison and capture a crossing or two over the Fellhorn before the enemy destroys them all. If not, then give me the men and I’ll take the fortress and the crossings myself.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Gallinus quickly, knowing that Durth’s solution would be costly direct assaults when he needed his troops for bigger battles. He added, “Hestborg will be dealt with by General Garretov in two days’ time. We will then move to secure the crossing points over the Fellhorn. In the meantime, you have my full permission to do as you see fit in the eastern and southern regions. As for your other request, I cannot grant that. I have few enough men, Cairagan or Aylarine, to spare as it is.” He paused to swat at a fly that was buzzing about. “Drat these creatures! Why is it they seem to follow your kind everywhere?”

“It’s attracted to that stupid scent you wear, you moron!” Durth desired strongly to say. But again, he held his piece.

“You and your raiders will carry on tomorrow at first light. And this time, do try to strike something of greater strategic importance. A few soil-scratching farmers are of neither military nor economic significance. Remember, your standing within this army depends on your success rate, Colonel. There are a number of officers eying your position as it is.”

“Yes, sir!” said Durth, absolutely seething inside. Any other Ayla would have spat something rude back by now. But not Durth.

“That is all,” said Gallinus coldly, wearily shifting his attention back to the chart like a child who is bored with one toy and drops it for another.

Brief and one-sided as always. Without a word more, Colonel Durth stormed out of the tent to ready his troops for another day’s march across the hot, dry plains. No upstart Human brat was going to get his job if he had anything to say about it.

The next morning, General Gallinus and his main subordinates were assembled outside his tent to discuss their strategy for the continued campaign in Ralgar. This was something they had not done since the invasion’s beginning. Up to this point, they had been making decisions based off their own good judgment, and though this worked at times, it did not have a strongly co-ordinated aim in mind. Now that Lord Caritus had solidified his plan and sent it to them, things were going to change. As they leaned forward to hear their general speak, everyone had confidence that the master strategist of the Cairaga would give them a way to speed through Ralgar and take its capital within a week.

“As you can see,” Gallinus explained, “it is the opinion of Lord Caritus that we should make a focused northward thrust to capture the coast of Ralgar, then follow the mountains down to the capital, and from there press on south into Gathor. In the meantime, he claims, those in the centre are to merely hold the line and leave the southern end of the country untouched until the main force can come to assist us in a massive enveloping action.”

“A fine idea,” said one of the lesser commanders.

“He is truly a master,” commented another.

“Yes,” said Gallinus with a forced smile. “My dear cousin is indeed clever. However, I find certain aspects of his strategy a bit unsuitable given our current situation.” He paused dramatically as the commanders waited for his next words. “You see, while it is true that many of the larger settlements lie along the coast, it is also true that, in coming down on the capital, we would have the enemy both in front and behind. This is something we cannot tolerate.”

A round of low murmurs passed between some of the lower-ranking officers.

“However, I have a solution to this dilemma,” added Gallinus conveniently, holding the attention of his officers rapt. “Our force is more than sufficient to take on the entire army of Ralgar with troops to spare. Therefore, I suggest a broad front in which we split our forces. It is my belief that we should send a good four-fifths or so of our troops to attack the capital and the coast at once, while the remaining soldiers fight the proposed holding action in the south. We are twelve thousand strong, so that would be about ten thousand up here and two in the south. Once we have conquered the northern half of Ralgar, we shall easily sweep down into Gathor as a united force, ripping a great hole in the outermost fringes of the old Western Empire. From there, we can slip over the Bluefalls, reunite with our brave comrades on the other side, and conquer the lands beyond. And we can do it ere the year is out.”

A wave of excited mumbling broke out around the table at Gallinus’s proposed course of action. Gallinus had always despised his cousin. In return, Caritus had always despised him back. The two had been eternally at odds, and built up a rivalry that had lasted down to the present day. The death of his father before Caritus’s had clearly made him bitter, and the crowning of his cousin as King had made him even more so. He had sided with Lord Caritus against various rebels and their anti-monarchical ideals in the years before only because he saw his success as a way to eventually claim the throne for himself—and he saw no hope for that with the opposition in charge. All the Cairagan leaders knew that one day the two would have to settle the issue for good, and Gallinus gladly took the opportunity of correcting his cousin’s plan as a good first step.

The officers as a whole were generally reluctant to question Caritus’s orders. However, they knew that it was also unwise to contradict the commander present, especially if they were to achieve favourable positions in future. As Lord Caritus was hundreds of miles away, he was not the one to please, and so the Cairagan officers lauded Gallinus’s words in excess.

“Ingenious, sir, truly ingenious,” said one seeking favour.

“Wise alterations, considering our position,” commented one of the older, subtler generals.

“I am glad to see you agree,” said Gallinus modestly. “After all, a commander cannot do his duty without his loyal subordinates. Therefore I ask, have you any additional suggestions? I am open to any improvements that can be made to what is otherwise the barest minimum of a plan.”

“I have some,” Durth spoke up for the first time. He had intentionally delayed the departure of his raiding party so he could be present at this meeting.

“Yes, Colonel Durth?” Gallinus turned to him, sorry he had asked.

Durth came forward. He was not himself a strategist, but he could see very well the reasoning of the others, and he knew when his true master was being undermined.

“It seems to me that our Lord Caritus has reasons for his strategy,” he stated. “The horsemen are fewer in number, but they hold a strong advantage on these open plains. We don’t have enough horsemen of our own to fight them, and if we split our forces too much, it will only make it easier for them to destroy us piece by piece. I say we capture their fortress first and garrison it against them. It will make the central holding action easier, and give us a place where we can stockpile and distribute supplies more easily during our push south later.”

Gallinus sighed. He knew Durth was right in this, and that the fortress of Hestborg would make a good stronghold for their own position. However, as Durth had thought of it instead of him—and more importantly because it was part of Caritus’s original plan—the idea had to be shut down quickly and decisively.

“Lord Caritus is a fine strategic thinker, I grant you. And as such I’m sure he fully understands that the best plans are those which can be adjusted to suit the purposes of the commanders present. He has done so himself many times to great success in the past. Therefore, as the orders he has given us are but vague outlines, it is up to us, the commanders present, to fill in the gaps and make modifications where necessary.”

“And since when did you become a master of strategy, Colonel Durth?” questioned Colonel Vladimir Garretov, son of General Ivan Garretov, who was no great admirer of Lord Caritus or his Aylarine allies. “As I recall, your kind are creatures of action more than thought.”

Durth snarled at this jibe, just as Gallinus smiled. He could see the younger Garretov’s angle, and he appreciated the loyalty. He could sense the lad’s father was with him too, and so he asked him, “What do you believe, General Garretov?”

“It is a very clever idea, sir,” replied Garretov, the most senior officer present. “However, if we are to maintain a mobile offensive, we cannot become bogged down by any fixed positions.”

“Very keen of you, General,” said Gallinus. “And just as you say, we are on the offensive. We cannot waste time and troops to man and supply a fortress that has no bearing on our plans whatsoever. Still, I think we all agree that it is a problem that must be dealt with. Therefore, General Garretov, I am charging you with the task of storming the fortress of Hestborg and routing its garrison. Afterward, take your men and burn it to the ground so it cannot be manned against us in future.” He turned to the fuming Durth and continued. “Colonel, as this matter is of such importance to you, you and your raiders may accompany him before resuming your actions in the south.

“I leave it to you, General Garretov, to decide how best to take that fortress. However, I would like Colonel Garretov to take his portion of the army and move to a position north of it, thereby forcing any survivors to retreat westward. We shall then pursue them in concert and secure our crossings over the Fellhorn.” He stood back and regarded them all. “Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” they replied at once—even the defeated Durth.

“Very well, then. We all know the plan. Now we’ve only to execute. And I want nothing but good reports from this moment on. The days of playing war games with these people are officially over.”

The officers saluted and hurried off to make their preparations. Gallinus watched them go with boundless pride in his supreme cleverness. Truly he, not his cousin, was the most brilliant general in all Cairaga!