[Mkguild] Plain & Simple part 11

[Chris]

   The worst of it had finally dispersed by the time Thomas arrived but
the stench still clung faintly to the ruins, particularly in the low
places. The smell assaulted the black stallion’s sensitive nose like it
attacked everyone else’s. Under that horrible smell his nose detected
the sharp tang of burning wood and the coppery scent of blood. The smell
of blood made the Duke nervous. No prey animal liked the smell of fresh
blood and Thomas had to resist the urge to whinny and back away. Even
before the curse had changed him Thomas had never liked warfare. The
sight and smell of death had always sickened him. He shivered and choked
back the bile rising in his throat and tried to look calm and collected.
Thomas was the Duke and had to act the part at all times regardless of
his instincts and feelings.

   Thomas looked to the top of the ruined tower and noticed the flag
fluttering in the breeze. It was a black flag with a red rearing horse
on it. It was the flag of the House Hassan, Duke of Metamor, King of the
Midland, his own banner.

   “It looks good seeing that back up there,” a voice said suddenly.
Thomas snorted and his head snapped around to the source of the sound.

   He found Misha standing less then three feet from him. The fox was
leaning on his axe and he reeked of blood and gore.

   “Misha,” Thomas said regaining his composure. “Where is George?”

   The scout pointed to a portion of the ruins nearby. George was easy
to find. The bright red banner was fluttering in the breeze and was easy
to spot.

   George was ordering a group of soldiers to pile stones in a gap in
the curtain wall when the Duke walked up.

   George bowed to the duke. “Sir Thomas.”

   “How did the battle go?” the equine nobleman asked.

   “Well,” George answered.  “We’ve cleared the castle completely above
ground and my people are checking the last of the underground places
now.”

   “Wounded? Dead?” the equine countered.

   “No dead and only a few wounded,” The jackal answered.

   “Five wounded,” Misha said. The fox had again snuck up on Thomas but
this time the stallion wasn’t surprised. “They should all be back at the
Keep by now.”

   “That was far too simple and bloodless,” Thomas asked. “When will
Nasoj respond?”

   “Probably not tonight,” the jackal answered. “It’s too soon but my
people will be out and ready.”

   Misha nodded in agreement. “Tomorrow night will be more likely.
Tonight we’ll probably run into a few scouts. We’ve set out some
ambushes along the better used trails. The real fun starts tomorrow
night.”

   “How will they attack?”

   “Small stuff at the start,” the old bandit answered.

   “Individual scouts or small groups feeling us out,” Misha added.
“Then they’ll throw larger raiding groups.”

   The fox turned to George. “You think they’ll do anything bigger?
Actually try and retake the place?”

   The ex-bandit nodded. “They’ve put too much into these ruins already.
This place won’t really be safe until the walls and Keep are rebuilt.”

   “Even then they’ll keep up the scouting and raids,” the fox added.
“But that is what the scouts are for.”

   Thomas nodded his equine head. “The master mason and carpenter will
be here tomorrow. Some two hundred laborers will follow within a week.”

   “Good. Andre and his troops will escort them,” the fox said nodding.
“I know how good he is.”

   “He has his orders already,” George commented.

   “When did you give him those orders? I just ordered the workers here
this morning.” Thomas asked confused.

   “Last month,” George answered as if explaining something to a child.
“Master craftsmen and laborers are too valuable to leave them
unprotected.”

   The Duke was humbled. He had ordered the craftsmen out but he hadn’t
considered their protection on the long and dangerous road to the ruins.
“Battles are won and lost on little details like that,” Thomas thought
to himself.

   “Good,” Thomas answered showing no sign of his surprise. “Very good.”


*******************************


   To defend the newly recaptured fortress George placed layers of
troops. Around the remains of the curtain wall itself a soldier was
placed every fifteen feet for the entire circumference of the old
fortress. Where the walls were too low to be an obstacle or were
destroyed they piled rocks, tree branches or anything else they could
find to block the opening. They would have preferred to place a
barricade of stout timbers but they simply couldn’t carry the heavy
wooden walls with them. Those would arrive tomorrow with the laborers
and craftsman.

   Everywhere outside the walls caltrops were scattered by the hundreds
of thousands. A caltrop was a small length of wood with nails driven
through it so the points bristled in all directions. Anyone stepping on
them would have their foot or hoof punctured. It didn’t care if that
person was a human, a horse, an animal morph or a lutin. That mattered
little to the Keepers as long as it kept the Lutins out.

 Inside the ruins themselves he had soldiers patrolling back and forth
looking for the slightest sign of any Lutins. Two full troops of cavalry
and a company of heavy infantry rested in the center of the fortress.
Ready to move at a moments notice they would rush to any place that was
being threatened.

   Yet even with all the troops inside the fortress the first line of
defense was outside its walls. These were George’s scouts liberally
reinforced with light infantry from the third and forth regiments. In
pairs they were hunkered down and hidden as good as possible. There they
would stay all night watching and listening for the slightest sight,
sound or smell that was out of place, signaling an enemy scout trying to
sneak up on them.

   George and Misha had little time for talking with the Duke. Both
raced back and forth along the line of scouts checking each position
themselves, ordering changes or improvements. Thomas was content to
leave them to their tasks and merely watch them at work.

   The rest of that day passed quickly but the night that followed
passed slowly, very slowly.


******************


   George was waiting for them when the column reached the ruined gate
of the fortress. He had been warned by the four outriders who had
arrived ten minutes earlier. First came a score of cavalry. Then came a
score of riders, their horses trotting alongside a dozen wagons, all
piled high with supplies and passengers as they slowly trundled and
squeaked along. Finally there came another twenty five riders. 

   A rider galloped free of the column and raced ahead. Andre reined in
his mare just short of George and the horse came to a halt.

   “Any problems?” the canine asked.

   “We were hit twice,” the wolverine morph answered. “The second one
was fairly large, with over a score of people in it. We managed to cut
our way through it.”

   George shook his head. “They’re responding fast. They’re sure to hit
us tonight.”

   “You want me and my people to stay tonight? We were going back to the
Keep this afternoon. There are more wagons to bring up tomorrow.”

   The jackal shook his head. “No, we need to push this construction as
fast as possible.”

   “Anything to go back?” the wolverine morph asked.

   “Just the wounded. “We’ll clear a wagon for them and you should be
able to leave soon.”

   The jackal turned to where the wagons were being greeted by a group
of soldiers. “LYNETTE!” he shouted. “Get those wagons unloaded and the
people settled in before dark. And be sure to get the wounded loaded
FAST! We want them back to the Keep long before dark.”

   One of the soldiers in the group waved a hand in response and started
shouting orders of her own. Soon the wagons were a beehive of activity
as their contents were unloaded.

   Andre waited until George had finished giving orders. “Where’s
Misha?”

   The old bandit pointed to the tower. “Getting some sleep. He’s going
out tonight and he needs the rest.”

   “Is he all right?” Andre asked.

   George nodded. “Yes. Only a few scratches. He always comes through
fine.”

   “Just like you do.”


*****************************


   The ruined keep was alive with activity. There was so much to do and
so little time to do it in. George seemed to be everywhere shouting
orders and warnings and urging everyone to move faster.

  A group of Keepers were busy at the gatehouse sealing the opening with
massive slabs of wood. A different work party was quickly piling stones
to change a mound of rubble back into a wall. Several other parties of
people had spread out around the outside of the keep and were clearing a
kill zone, devoid of all cover. Cutting down trees and brush from around
all the walls. The brush was burned and the wood was dragged into piles.
Later they would be cut into lumber and used for buildings, walls, doors
and anything else that was needed.

   One of the work parties was sent to clear the brush from the ditch on
the side furthest from the gate. Soon they spread out and were hacking
and pulling up bushes and weeds. Everyone was too busy to notice three
figures that slowly edged away from the group and disappeared into the
woods. And any that did notice the three had orders to NOT notice them
and pretend they didn’t see anything.

   Sunset this evening was greeted with a deep unease. Everyone had
heard of the ambushes on the caravan and they all understood that it
meant trouble. Any lingering doubts were dispelled when all the laborers
were lined up and issued weapons.

   Everyone checked their weapons and armor one more time and watched
the sinking sun with fear and trepidation.


**************************


   Nightfall to most soldiers in the Midlands was a time to relax; a
time to set aside sword and spear, to bind wounds and rest weary bodies.
Battles were occasionally fought at night but those were few and far
between. They were things of legends and song and tales told by old
veterans. Daylight was the time of war and battle, when they rushed
about killing and fighting, waging war upon each other.

   But here in the valley of Metamor daylight was the time of peace and
quiet. The time to till the fields and go about the errands of life.
Nightfall was a time to bar doors and shutter windows. A time when
people unsheathed their swords and strung their bows. Night was the time
of raiders and ambushes, the time when Nasoj’s Lutins would strike.

   But this was old news to the people of the Keep and the valley it
guarded. Lutins and other things had been raiding them for generations.
They knew these enemies well and would meet them with spear, bow and
sword.

   The fortress’ walls were again guarded by the soldiers of the Duke
who were following in the footsteps of their fathers and mothers. None
needed any prodding to stay awake and vigilant.

   But as boring and yet important as their jobs were they were mild
compared to that of the people outside the walls. These people lay
quietly in some forty hiding spots. Covered with branches, leaves and
dirt they were invisible to all but the most careful search. For them
time was passed sitting in the silence and darkness of the forest at
night. It was here that those who gained the animal part of the curse
had the edge. Their sense of smell and hearing enhanced a dozen fold.
Many had also gained a far better night vision so that the forest at
night was no longer so dark or foreboding.

   So it was that Meredith and Georgette found themselves sitting in a
hunter’s blind carefully tucked into the branches and trunk of a fallen
tree. They had spent a good portion of the previous day carefully
weaving wood, earth and leaves into the branches and trunk of the tree
till they had created a little hiding place inside which they could sit
and be completely hidden.

   One problem was the hiding place itself was small. Georgette had no
problem slipping in. Her smaller, woman’s body fit inside easily enough.
But Meredith was another thing all together. His massive brown bear form
left him weighing in at over half a ton and over seven feet tall. It
took him several minutes to slowly work his way into the blind without
disturbing all their hard work. Still it had been worth all the effort
as when they were finally settled the two scouts were invisible to all
but the most careful examination.

   The night passed slowly for the two. They took turns, one sleeping
while the other stayed awake. Meredith had long ago lost track of the
time, seated with a heavy crossbow on his lap and an axe next to him. He
sat silently, not moving lest he make a noise. He opened himself up and
let his animal senses fill in the forest around him. His ursine ears
picked up the slightest noise from the woods. He could hear a pair of
forest mice foraging through the leaves and grass a few feet in front of
him. The sensitive nose the curse’s magic had given him picked up the
faint scent of a rabbit somewhere off to his left. It was probably just
foraging like the mice were.

   When the noise came it was a subtle one; a faint crinkling noise off
to his right. A single crinkle as if something had stepped on a leaf.
Meredith swiveled his ears in the direction of the sound and sniffed the
air but heard and smelt nothing unusual. So he waited and listened for
anything else. His patience was rewarded a few minutes later by another
noise, this time a faint rustling that continued for a few seconds. In
front of him he heard the mice suddenly make a loud noise as they
scrambled to the safety of their burrow. More interested in speed then
stealth. They had heard the noise too.

   A cat or a fox perhaps out hunting a meal. Or it could be deer or
some squirrels foraging. He slowly and quietly checked his crossbow to
be sure it was still cocked. Then he placed a bolt into the groove ready
to shoot.

   Meredith again resumed his waiting, listening and smelling. Another
crinkle noise, this time closer. Then a tink – very faint but clearly
audible to his animal ears. It was a sound he recognized – the sound of
wood striking metal.

   He reached down with his left hand and touched Georgette on the
shoulder. The woman woke up instantly and silently. The bear pointed off
in the direction of the noise. She nodded and reached for her spear.

   Straining his eyes through the darkness Meredith made out the vague
outline of a figure about fifty yards away. He waited and the shape
moved heading closer towards him.

   He picked up his crossbow and aimed it at the shape without ever
taking his eyes off of it. Suddenly the faint whiff of a scent came to
him. A mixture of blood, sweat, offal and a stale smell unique to
Lutins.

   The crossbow shuddered in his massive hands as he loosed the bolt. It
flew through the air and connected with the figure which dropped out of
sight instantly. Quickly and as quietly as possible Meredith recocked
the bow pulling it’s drawstring back until it hooked over the release
catch. He placed a new bolt onto the slide and brought the weapon back
up to his shoulder. The two of them sat there in the dark with weapons
ready and waited for daylight.


*****************************


   Some ten miles away to the north Misha, Finbar and Craig were lying
prone behind two large boulders. The rocks rested near a well used trail
that wound south into Metamor Valley. A quick look at the trail in
daylight revealed branches broken off, brush and weeds beaten down and
the ground smoothed in many places. All signs of the trail having been
used a lot recently. There had been a large amount of traffic on this
trail.

   The plan was simple. Whatever moved down the trail that belonged to
Nasoj would be killed. If the group was too large for the three of them
to handle they would simply wait for the next group and kill them. All
they had to do was wait.

   It was a short wait.


**************


   There were twenty Lutins in the group all moving at a slow pace down
the trail. The Keepers had been moving around the old ruins, causing
trouble and they had been sent to find out what was happening.

   The trail was long and circuitous but they had traveled over it
countless times and they had no problems with getting lost.

   The first warning they had of an attack was a shower of arrows and
javelins that cut down a dozen of them in moments. There were a few
moments of confusion before Misha closed the short distance from his
hiding place. They didn’t see the black colored axe but they certainly
did see the results. Blood and gore splattered in all directions as the
blade sliced through a lutin’s body with terrifying ease. Then the
confusion turned to panic. They scattered in all directions trying to
escape. Few succeeded.

End part 11

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