The Road to the Future - 5. Part Five

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Chapter Thirteen: General Boars

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Field Marshal Darius had left General Boars in charge of the defense of Qul Hoth, a lakeside trading city to the east of the capital. He found himself not only surrounded by an army of Confederate troops, but also a mob of city officials. The latter were begging him to surrender, to prevent their beautiful city from being burned to ashes by the jars of dragon fire the Confederacy was threatening to rain down upon them if they did not.

 

“But we always surrender!” the mayor insisted looking with horror at the stake barricade surrounding his city.

 

“Times change and so do rulers. We cannot afford for the port to fall to the enemy. If the Confederacy gains control of the Qulos River, they will be able to use it to sail in supplies and men to Qul Tos, where the real battle is. It would also divide the kingdom in half, splitting up our garrisons,” General Boars shouted.

 

“But tradition!” the mayor and the city council members shouted as one. For centuries, control of Qul Hoth had exchanged hands between Huron, Tal Sith, and Qul Tos. Each time an invading army had approached, Qul Hoth surrendered without a fight. In return, the mayor and his council were usually left in place to run the city as if nothing had changed other than where the taxes went. Not even when the city was founded had the city had a wall, fort, towers, or even stockade.

 

This time, however, Qul Hoth was in Centurion hands… eight thousand against thirty, with a fleet of fifty armed riverboats. Boars knew he had enough men to hold the city and protect the mouth of the Qulos River, but having only twenty ships at his command did worry him. For, while on land a single Centurion warrior could easily kill or maim three or more of the enemy, there was less he could do on water.

 

“I will not surrender this city to anyone!” Boars shouted down the politicians. “There are things more important than your traditions. The whole kingdom is at stake.”

 

“Qul Tos is… we on the other hand are Hothians… men of the lake. What have we ever cared about our Tosian cousins?”

 

“What is this?” Boars asked confused.

 

The mayor sighed. If he were dealing with any other man of the east, he would not have to explain his city’s history. “We do not see ourselves as being Tosian, Sithian or Huron. We are our own people, and have survived as such by being pacifists. Look at our arched buildings, nothing like the tiled flat roofs of the Tosians. We even have our own language, more akin to Jadoorian instead of eastern Centurion. We may live in Qul Tos but the only lives we see worth defending are those of our Hothian brothers and sisters.

 

“Then protect them you will… for before I see this city fall I will have it burned to the ground. Your markets, mansions, theaters, and harbors will be turned to ash. Your people will then be scattered across Ares where your people will lose their sense of self.”

 

“You would not dare!” the mayor fumed.

 

I do dare… so if I were you I would go to those men and woman protesting outside and tell them to pick up a sword, for if this city falls, so will your people.” Boars said as he summoned two of his guards.

 

“This will not be the last we speak of this!” the mayor yelled as he was escorted out of the tavern Boars was using as his base.

 

Once the city officials were gone, a lieutenant approached the general. “Your orders?”

 

“Have the food and water supplies watched. Do not let a single Hothian serve a meal to our men. I will not risk the Hothians poisoning us like the Famulus did to Admiral Urrack.

 

“Yes general.” The officer saluted. “What of the protestors?” he asked over the faint shouting coming from the windows.

 

“Issue a curfew… between the mid suns. Anyone found on the street afterwards will be drafted to serve as a Famulus.”

 

“It will be done.”

 

“Good, now bring me my supper and a glass of wine. Dealing with fools leaves bitterness on my tongue.

 

“I will see a pair of lamb chops and spiced potatoes are brought up.” The lieutenant bowed before leaving.

 

As he waited for his meal, Boars watched as buildings were brought down with ropes and iron hooks, barricading the narrow streets, soon there would be only one path through the city to the port. General Boars was betting that the path would soon be learned by some patriotic Hothian, who in turn would let the Confederacy know. It would be that man’s fate to lead the enemy into a trap. It was the general’s fate that he would be the destroyer of Qul Hoth. But, as a Centurion, he was going to fight like one.

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Lord Brashear, a stout man in his early thirties, walked down the halls of the palace toward the bronze doors that led to the center of power in Tal Sith. Inside, the young king Samuel waited for his most loyal of tax collectors. As soon as Brashear was granted entry, he went down on his knees and crawled his way toward the middle of the circular room before bowing his head down to the green carpeted floor.

 

“Rise, Brashear,” the king, in his mid-twenties, commanded.

 

The Earl stood up on his feet, but kept his head aimed at the carpeted floor. “Your majesty, how may I be of service?”

 

“You have always have been of good service. Your tax collectors make our treasury fat with silver, gold, cattle, and wheat.”

 

“But you have need of me somewhere else?” Brashear asked, knowing that had to be the reason for this summons, as tax collection was still two seasons away.

 

“The war with Qul Tos is not proceeding as well as we wish…” King Samuel began. “Huron thinks they are the only real power in the Confederacy and the King’s representative, Sirrus, has been using our men to do his dirty work.”

 

“I do not see why Tal Sith should tolerate such a situation,” Brashear grinned, face still down.

 

“We agree… It is good to have a loyal servant that shares the king’s thoughts.”

 

“How would you like us to correct this matter?” Brashear asked.

 

“We would like you to personally take over command of our men… also try to convince the other kingdoms to follow you. You just make sure that when the city falls… that it is our men who control the royal treasury of Qul Tos.

 

“That should not be a problem, your majesty. I only ask permission to make certain arrangements with the Qopo.”

 

“The Qopo? What could you have to do with such men?”

 

“The Qopo are not all that bad.”

 

“They are slavers,” the king said with disgust.

 

“Not much difference between our serfs and their slaves,” Brashear pointed out.

 

“Except we can’t sell our serfs… We also do not kidnap people to place on market.

 

“I will try to not laugh at the fact that not a few of the Qopo would see your majesty as the type of person they prefer to sell -- educated and well trained.

 

“Better that you do not… but tell me, what do you want from them?”

 

“Something that will get the other kingdoms’ attention,” was all Brashear would say.

 

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Once he left the royal palace, Brashear made his way to the Qopo embassy. The two story building did not so much represent the government of the dark-skinned men as the traders who had dealings within Tal Sith. Entering the room, he found it warm and dry compared to the early summer air outside, the heat of several fires causing beads of sweat to form on his forehead. The Qopo hated living outside their tropical homeland. In their legends, the Qopo believed that long ago they were the only people on Areas… that all others were invaders who should be enslaved. It was one of the reasons that there was a great deal of animosity between Qopo and Rapa. The Rapans, the Qopo held, had betrayed their loyalty to the land by leaving it. As a result, Rapan ships were always prime targets of Qopo slavers.

 

Brashear, however, was not interested in slaves. The Qopo had other goods that the nobleman wanted.

 

“Lord Brashear, how may I serve the king’s tax collector?” the merchant Dodofan asked.

 

“I have need of something special… something only you can give me.”

 

“I did not know that Tal Sith was short of anything.” Dodofan said, even as greed grew in his eyes.

 

“Yes, but it seems our ally, Huron, thinks they should have sole command of our expedition in Qul Tos. His majesty has sworn me to see that the Hurons are reminded that we are supposed to be allies in this venture, sharing both in the sacrifices and the rewards.

 

“And what do you have in mind?”

 

“I am thinking of something not large in numbers but formidable to get Huron’s attention.”

 

“I think I know to what your lordship is referring. I will have to warn you that bringing such cargo across the Inner Sea will be expensive.”

 

“We are willing to pay.”

 

“Good, so long as the war is over by autumn, then I do not see a problem.” Dodofan nodded.

 

“What is wrong with it lasting until winter?”

 

“That is when I return home, your lordship, and when I go home so does my cargo… that is unless you are willing to pay for my discomfort.

 

“How much more?” Brashear asked suspiciously.

 

The merchant wrote a figure on a piece of parchment.

 

Brashear waited until the scowl that had formed on his face had faded before replying. “Then we better pray that the war does end soon."

 

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Chapter Fourteen: Austrola

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Aegis had to admit that he was disappointed in the men he was given to lead. Made mostly of former Jadoorian conscripts who had not received their pensions, they were an angry lot. Everyone was a forced volunteer in this war between Manthannon and the larger but weaker Austrola.

 

For centuries a stone wall stretching north and south along the border had separated Manthannon from Austrola. It had originally been built by male slaves to end raids made by Jadoorian religious fanatics who believed the Manthannon worship of the Daughter of the Mother was heresy.

 

After a long slave revolt, supported by Jadoor and Domus, control of the wall and the lands east had fallen into the hands of the slaves. Since then, the population of Austrola had been a unique mixture of Manthannon, Jadoorian, and Domus Famulus, each living in their own separate city states spread across the republic.

 

Manthannon had longed to take her revenge on the descendants of the slaves that revolted and to add the Jadoorian and Domus blood lines to their breeding pits. They had never been able to regain control of the wall that separated the two lands, however. The discovery of an explosive powder changed all that. After their success at the Battle of Sol, the female warriors of Manthannon had blown large gaps in the wall, letting their soldiers stream in.

 

Now, with half of the large island under the control of the Matriarchs, Austrola was becoming concerned that they would be pushed into the sea as the Mathannons used their explosives to destroy their defenses. Centuries of building had been destroyed in a single month.

 

As it was, Aegis and Zophar made landfall at the far eastern port city of Lafalle, an old Jadoorian outpost that had grown into the second largest city in Austrola. There, they were met by City Proctor Ashafell.

 

“Thank you, general, for coming. The situation is dire,” the elderly man said in a near panicked voice as he shook their hands while still on the pier.

 

“What is the situation?” Aegis asked before Zophar could speak.

 

“As you well know; the wall separating our land from those damned Manthannon bitches is broken in over a dozen places. At some, we held them back; at others, we were pushed back.

 

“So do you hold any part of the wall?” Aegis asked again before Zophar could speak.

 

“Only the north and south fortresses that look out on the ocean.”

 

“Good.” Aegis nodded, his mind already calculating a plan.

 

“How many of your people have been captured?” Zophar was finally able to slip into the conversation.

 

“Fortunately, most of the western part of Austrola is only made up of small farm communities. Our long standing fear of Manthannon has always kept our larger towns and cities here in the east.”

 

“But that means the roads in the west have to be nonexistent,” Zophar guessed. “How has the Manthannon army moved so fast?”

 

“Over half of their army is cavalry. The rest, on foot, are sticking to the river valleys.”

 

“So they do not have full control of the lands they have passed.”

 

“No… I am sure there are villages in the west that do not even know they are behind the war front.”

 

“I see… That makes sense. They know that, only here on the eastern side of the island, will they face any real resistance. They are only taking over the farms and villages they need to supply their forces.”

 

Seeing that Zophar understood their situation, Ashafell let out a deep sigh of relief. “Then you have a plan to stop them?”

 

“No, but I know what you should stop doing…. Hiding behind your castles and forts. With their new weapon, you do not have the means to win a siege. Fight them in the wilderness, away from your towns, cities, and villages. It might be harder to supply your men away from the roads, but you would stand a better chance of catching them by surprise and pushing them back,” Zophar offered.

 

“Do you really think that would work?” Ashafell asked unsure.

 

“The general is right,” Aegis nodded. “Fight away from your walls. They only serve to allow the Montanans to trap your armies before destroying them. Following his advice will at least slow them down, as they will have to move more carefully to avoid ambushes. At the same time, you need to be ready to mount a counterattack. While Zophar leads the main army to slow the enemy down, I will prepare for the invasion of Manthannon.”

 

“Invade Manthannon?… are you insane?” Ashafell asked, his mouth wide open.

 

“It is the last thing they will be prepared for and might be the only way to force them into a peace settlement.”

 

“I see…” Ashafell nodded, his shoulders slumped.

 

“Now, I must go back on the ship and find enough men crazy enough to do what needs to be done,” Aegis said as he turned around and walked back down the pier.

 

“Wait a minute… you are just going to leave me here?” Zophar asked confused as he grabbed Aegis back.

 

“Love… I want to win this war. Not just to teach those slavers a lesson, but to show the world how good I really am.”

 

“Why can’t we do that together?”

 

“Because you are better at delaying tactics than I am.”

 

“While you are better at the sneak attack,” Zophar replied, not fully as a compliment.

 

“Yes… I am going to lead the counterattack. I can’t do that if I am busy helping you… you don’t need my help anyway. If everything works out, we will both come out of this as heroes.”

 

“Alright…but promise that this is not the last time I will see you,” Zophar replied, not letting go of Aegis’s arm.

 

“I will my love. If anything, we are meant to die together.”

 

“Then until we meet again,” Zophar said sadly as he watched Aegis turn back down the pier humming a Centurion battle march.

 

“We will.” Aegis waved.

 

After Zophar watched Aegis’s ship leave the port, Ashafell, gained enough courage to speak again. “Now general, how would you like our armies to proceed. Their commanders are ready to meet with you.”

 

“Lead the way,” Zophar nodded while his eyes remained on the sea. He knew what his lover was doing… trying to lead them both to greatness. The only problem was that Zophar never cared about achieving greatness. For Aegis’ sake, however, he would do his best to fulfill that destiny.

 

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Chapter Fifteen: Raids of Rage

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Philip left the bed he shared with Jason and walked into the courtyard of the Keep. There, waiting for him were two hundred of his finest Spawn, their red eyes glowing in the moonless night.

 

“Are you sure you wish to do this without asking Jason first?” Darius asked from his position in front of the other Spawn.

 

“We both know what his answer would be. This needs to be done for the good of everyone,” Philip insisted.

 

“As you say.” Darius bowed. “The men are ready.”

 

“Then let it begin,” Philip ordered.

 

As one, the Demon Spawn scaled down the cliff like ants until they reached the bottom. They then rushed through the palace, down the Silver Way, scaled the city walls, and entered the Confederate camp. Moving silently, Philip led his Demon Spawn to the south end of the camp where the siege equipment was being built.

 

With the rope and grappling hooks they carried, it only took three of Philip’s men to knock down each of the dozen or so siege towers, the wooden timbers breaking on hitting the ground. With axes, the Spawn cut at the ropes and chains of the catapults and spear throwers.

 

This, though, was not as enjoyable as what Philip and his children were planning on doing next. Soon Eastern soldiers began swarming toward the rear of their camp to fight whatever was attacking them. That was when the real fun began. Philip and his children made a bloodbath of the defending Confederate troops, fighting with sword, tooth, and nail, as they tore them apart.

 

Once Philip felt he had done enough to ensure nightmares for every single Confederate soldier, he pulled his men back to the Keep.

 

“It should take them a while to recover from that!” Darius laughed once they were back in the courtyard, his body covered with blood.

 

“It should.” Philip ginned as well, drops of blood slipping off his fangs.

 

Looking at each other, Philip and Darius saw that both of them were covered in blood and pieces of torn flesh. To them, these were not just marks of conquest but pride, and from the pride, came lust as the two men left together to feed another of their animal needs.

 

Looking into the courtyard, a look of horror on his face was Jason.

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General Boars was furious. The Hothians were still refusing to leave the city even as it burned to the ground. As many of the buildings had been built over the marshlands of the lake country, the burning of their foundations had turned the eastern half of Qul Hoth into a swamp. Moving into tents made out of bedding, table clothes, and a patchwork of other materials, the Hothians remained, trying their best to ignore the battle as if it was not being fought around them.

 

That did not mean that the inconvenience of losing their homes was the only thing they suffered. With the burning of the city’s foundations, much of the sewage from the cement tunnels under the city had backed up, filling the air with a putrid stench and spreading dysentery among the Hothians. Just as thousands had died from fires, arrows, and the savagery of the Confederate soldiers, disease was also taking its toll on the citizenry. Still, General Boars refused to surrender the city to the enemy.

 

“General… the enemy is attacking the northern section of the city again,” an officer reported to the general.

 

“Take our men from the city center and have them push the enemy back out,” Boars ordered.

 

An hour latter another officer came running into the General’s observation post on the roof of the tavern where he had made his base.

 

“Sir, the attack to the north was a feint… the enemy turned back but only to press deeper from the east.”

 

“How far into the city are they?” Boars demanded.

 

“About eight blocks from the city center.”

 

“Damn it… pull the men I sent north back and bring them here. Bring up half the men guarding the port to reinforce us. If we lose the city center our forces to the south and west will be cut off from each other.”

 

This time the officer did not wait to salute but ran out to give the general’s orders. Three hours later as the sun set, the results of the day’s battle started coming in. As a result of pulling his men back from the northern part of the city, the remaining Centurions had not been able to hold back the second wave when it hit. The battle for the city center had been fierce, the fighting almost reaching Boar’s command center several times, but near dusk the enemy was pushed back to the eastern side of town. Still, with the fall of the northern part of town, the road leading to Qul Tos was now in enemy hands, cutting off any hope of retreat for Boar’s forces except by boat.

 

With the Northern road now theirs, the Confederacy could use it to supply and reinforce their main army at Qul Tos. This left Boars with one less reason to keep on fighting. But, there was the Qulos River… with control of it came the fastest path to the capital. So long as his men controlled the port, the general had a reason to fight on, regardless of the suffering it was causing the local people.

 

“Pull our men out of the western part of the city. We will focus instead on holding the center and the south near the port… whatever it takes to keep the enemy from sailing up the Qulos River.” Boars said at the end of his meeting with his men.

 

“Yes sir,” all of his officers agreed.

 

Just then, a strange sound came from the north, a cross between trumpeting and a roar.

 

“What was that?” Boars demanded as the sound disappeared up the northern road towards Qul Tos.

 

“I don’t know but I am afraid our friends in the capital will soon find out.”

 

“Well, we have our hands full as it is. Let’s just be thankful that Qul Tos is easier to defend than this swamp,” Boars said to keep his men’s spirits up.

 

That comment brought out a few laughs. Soon the officers left the tavern to return to their units.

 

That night Boars watched the sky as more balls of fire were launched into the city by the enemy’s catapults. If help did not come soon, then Boars would have no other choice than try to make a run for it. The only question was where could he and his men go if the capital fell.

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