Refuge: Book 3: The Legions Page 2
And why would they fear us, thought Dieter, his eyes glancing right and left. His knees felt like they were about to fail him. He wanted to stop and run. This standing close together felt totally unnatural. He wanted to be back in his Earth uniform, rifle in hand, looking for good cover to shoot from at the things that wanted to kill him. But that was not how things were planned for this day. This day they would have to fight as the Romans fought. Fight and win, or fight and die. Those were the only options.
“Please help me, Lord,” he prayed again. “Please give me the strength to do this. Not to fail in front of my comrades. Not to fail under your eyes.”
And he felt the Lord with him at that moment. Strength flooded into his body. And courage. And the knowledge that whatever happened, the God of the Universe would be with him.
* * *
“Why do they group so, my Lord?” asked one of the adjutants, sitting his horse beside the Grand Marshall Ellessa Ellisandra. “It’s like they have no fear of what our mages will do.”
They were behind the mass of their troops. Behind the Ellalla elite in the center, so they didn’t have to smell the stench of their Grogatha subordinates. They could still hear them on both flanks, grunting like pigs as they lusted for the slaughter to come.
“The last time they fought us they had those frightening machines,” said the Grand Marshal as he stared at the large rectangles that marched his way. “The Panzers, I think they called them, and the weapons their infantry carried, were more than we could handle.”
“Do you think they don’t work anymore, my Lord?” asked the Adjutant. “That is what the mages have been saying at least. That they are not of this world, and so no longer work on this world.”
“I haven’t seen them for months,” said the Marshal, his keen eyes picking out the human faces in the rectangles that marched to the front. He scanned further back and let out a hiss of surprise. Those were Conastaya back there, ranks of them, wearing the armor they despised. A quarter of the formation was made up of humans, carrying shields much like those the human infantry carried, but even larger. “They must think they can accomplish something with these formations. I’m not sure what, but they haven’t acted stupidly in the past.”
No, he thought, not stupid at all. Confused at times. No one really knew where the new humans were from. The same world as the humans who had come through in the past? If so, then things had changed much on that world. Their war machines were beyond belief. They were not of this world, and eventually they stopped working their unworldly magic in this world. But not before they had shattered several of the Empire’s armies.
That had been last fall. The humans had found a large valley to hold up in while they prepared for a war without their machines. But they had prepared the valley well. The main entrance, through which flowed the river, was blocked by huge earthwork fortifications, fronted by a wide water filled ditch. The paths through the mountains were also guarded by fortifications, and the humans had hired mercenaries of the various races to help hold those redoubts while they trained in the ways of this world.
The humans, with few exceptions, had not left that valley over the winter and spring. They had repulsed several attacks on their fortifications, and spies and dragon overflights had hinted that they were up to something. They had been seen drilling on a large field, and this formation had something to do with that drill, he was sure. But it did not make sense to him. Warriors did not mass together like that. Warriors fought a series of individual battles, contests of honor. A large battle was just more contests. There was a practical reason for that. Magic would fry or otherwise dispense of men in such large, tightly packed formations. As would engines like rock and spear throwers. Not that they had an abundance of such engines here and now, but if the humans continued to fight like this they would in future battles. Provided enough of the humans survived for there to be other battles.
“Let the mages give them a volley or two,” ordered the Marshal.
The Adjutant waved a hand at the horn men. The men brought the horns to their lips and blew out the wanted signal.
The mages, mostly Ellalla, moved from the backs of the ranks to the front. The Ellalla soldiers moved out of their way in unhurried fashion, while the magically stunted Grogatha moved quickly, not wanting to let the mages touch them. Mages took exception to being touched, and the beastly soldiers had seen the results of that exception.
Within a minute the mostly Ellalla battle mages stood to the fore, over a hundred of them. They were of all ages, from great archmages to newly confirmed masters. All looked young, as all of the people did. But all had power. Even the most magically dense could feel the power of the men, building as they prepared to unleash it, like electricity in the air before a storm. The mages gestured and spoke and gestured some more, then pointed their focusing objects, wands, staffs and rods. As soon as they pointed them a variety of powerful energies jumped from the objects and sped toward the forward rectangles of the enemy force.
* * *
Kurt marched to the front of the centermost cohort, near to the standards that included a German flag. First Legion was his baby, at least for this proof of concept battle. As much of a command as General Taylor was likely to give him. The General had been pressured by the natives and many of the Germans to give Kurt a major command. After all, he was said to be the king prophesied to free them from the Evil that controlled the land. Kurt had not been too sure about that prophecy himself, since he didn’t want that kind of responsibility. But a dream sent by the Goddess Arathonia had grabbed his attention. Whether he liked it or not, he was the chosen. And if he didn’t take the position, there was a great chance that everything would go to hell quickly.
General Zachary Taylor didn’t see it that way. The ranking NATO commander after the transition, Taylor had found himself in charge of the United States, British and German Armed Forces who had come through the dimensional barrier. The civilians weren’t under his control, but they did not have the weapons to challenge his authority. Kurt had to admit the General had done an outstanding job, considering the circumstances. He had rallied the forces under his control and defeated an enemy who possessed, to the Earthers, inexplicable powers, including monstrous dragons that they used much like warplanes.
The General’s main fault, as far as the native peoples were concerned, was that he did not believe in the prophecy, at least not completely. He gave some credence to it, he really had no choice given the evidence before him. He was just not completely sure that Kurt was the answer to their prayers, or even what he said he was.
I guess the tale that someone is almost ninety years old, but looks like they’re barely out of their twenties, is kind of hard to accept, thought Kurt with a smile. It was even more unbelievable to the General that Kurt’s companion, Ismael Levine, was really getting on in years at over two thousand. Kurt had given the general a demonstration of his healing abilities, by cutting a deep gash in his forearm that had closed without a scar within a minute. He had shown the General, who was a telepath on this world, like most humans, that Kurt’s own telepathic abilities went far beyond the norm. All to no avail. The General saw himself as the salvation of the humans who had translated over to Refuge, as they called the world. And he wasn’t about to let anyone take that position away from him. Not yet, anyway.
Levine had finally come up with the solution, based on his many years of life. The General would only be able to maintain his position for at most twenty more years. And Kurt would still be young and strong at that time, and for millennia after.
“They’re up to something, General,” said the standard bearer, the one with the German flag, marching just behind Kurt.
The giant German nodded and turned his attention to the hundred or so Ellalla who had gone before the ranks of the enemy. By the way they were dressed he knew they were mages. From the situation they were involved in this day he knew their intent.
“Protect the flags,” he told the standard bearer
as he turned toward the bugler. “Sound magical defense.”
The man nodded and put his instrument to his mouth as Kurt turned back to the front. All of the men here in the front were people of the Earth Gods. The magic of Refuge didn’t affect them, any more than they affected Kurt. He still wanted the flagmen to the rear, and as the bugler sounded his horn the ranks opened up and gave the standard bearers a path away from the front. A path that Kurt didn’t take. The bugler was the last, and Kurt found himself alone in front of the ranks, who had raised their shields and let out a deep shout. He glanced at them with a smile on his face, then looked back at the mages just in time to see a barrage of magical power coming at the Earthers.
A fireball was heading straight for Kurt, trailing flames and sparks and making a rustling burning noise as it came. To either side struck lightning bolts, much faster than the fireball. Sparks flew and electricity crackled among the men. Some looked ready to break and run, but all stood under the sight of their fellows. The electricity disappeared and died before it could get beyond the first three ranks, The Protected. Then the fireball struck and Kurt could feel a rushing and not unpleasant warmness as it passed through him to dissipate among the protected as well. What little bit of energy made it through dispersed against the magical barrier erected by the other infantry, trained through self hypnosis to erect their own small part of the shield, along with the mages.
Kurt could see the surprise and anger in the body language of the mages, even from the distance of five hundred meters. The Ellalla started back into their gesturings and shouts. Within moments another wave of magical energies was heading toward the front ranks of the legion. With the same effect, dying out among the front rank of the protected. Kurt thought for a moment about releasing his own mages, nestled in among the rear ranks of the formations. He shook his head at the thought. Better to hold them as a surprise and a reserve.
The Ellalla mages again looked angry, an anger that was growing, and would hopefully overcome reason. Kurt smiled as the Ellalla walked quickly forward, exhibiting the power of emotion over conscious thought. They stopped a little over two hundred meters away and went through their magical performance again. Again they unleashed their energies, which struck with even more force than before. Again they dissipated as they struck the ranks of the Protected. There were some yells and a couple of screams as some of the magic bled through and struck the troopers behind those front ranks, though most was deflected. It still wasn’t what the Ellalla mages had intended, and they again went into their gestures and yells.
“They’re within range,” yelled Kurt at the top of his strong lungs. “Give them a volley.”
The rectangles of Conastaya archers, just behind the front rank of infantry, immediately moved out into a more open arrangement. At the same time the front ranks of the infantry knelt to the ground, and ranks seven through nine staggered to bring their light crossbows to bear. The longbowmen fired first, drawing back their shafts in a single motion and releasing them with a yell. Swift hands pulled arrows already held in hand onto the strings. With another call they released a second volley while the first was still rising into the air. The infantrymen pulled the triggers on their light crossbows as the second archers’ call sounded. They immediately started the process of cocking and rearming their bows as the six ranks in front of them stood up as one.
The mages saw the arrows coming. They started a new series of chants that caused a field of energy to spring into existence above them. Thousands of arrows plunged downward into the field. Hundreds flared out of existence. Hundreds more burst into flames and slid from the barrier. The rest bounced from the barrier and fell to the ground away from the mages. That was when the thousand or so crossbow bolts came in from straight ahead. Mages frantically waved their hands and knocked hundreds of them down. Hundreds more missed entirely on their own. And several hundred found targets, sprouting from chests, stomachs, arms and legs. Over fifty of the mages went down. The magical shield overhead went down with them. And the second wave of arrows came in unimpeded, to strike down another fifty mages, leaving them writhing on the ground.
The archers yelled again as they sent yet another volley into the air. The mages weren’t complete idiots. As soon as they heard that call, those who were still on their feet and could move did so. As fast as they could run toward the enemy lines. The humans and Conastaya yelled in triumph at the top of their lungs as the mages took flight. They silenced as commands rang out and they started to march toward the enemy again, their ranks neat and tidy.
Kurt looked back from the position he had moved to as the legion marched, behind the front cohort with his command group. The flags of the Army commander were swinging from the hill, sending his commands to his forces. But the telepathy that they had not possessed on Earth also came through, giving command and control similar to that they enjoyed with radio on Earth.
[Second Legion, move beside the first and form up. First Legion, stop in place and wait for Second to maneuver. Then continue forward.]
Kurt looked back to see the Second Legion maneuvering, its twelve rectangles of over a thousand infantrymen each slanting to the right, six in front, the six groups of archers in the middle, and the last six battalions of infantry following. His own cohorts started to slant to the left. He looked over the field with his sharp eyes. It reminded him of the scene from Spartacus, where the legions were deploying on the field. He hoped it was as awe inspiring a sight to the enemy. No, that wasn’t right. He hoped a dreadful frightening sight to the enemy, as it was intended to be.
* * *
“That was impressive,” said the Grand Marshal as he watched the remnants of his magic assault force return. That remnant was much less than half of what had gone beyond his lines. He had some more mages who hadn’t gone with them. He hadn’t wanted to risk all of his magic users at one time. But it was still a great loss to an enemy that showed great skill in the trap they had sprung upon the mages.
Now the enemy was starting to maneuver into another configuration with the same precision. He wasn’t sure if that made them good fighters. Somehow he thought their obvious discipline was the sign that they were an army that wouldn’t break easily. As long as they bled and died, it wouldn’t matter. He would break them.
“What should we do next, my Lord,” said the Adjutant, sitting expectantly on his mount.
“Order our own archers forward,” he replied, looking back at the younger Ellalla. “Let us see how they like the galling sting of arrows.”
* * *
Thousands of Ellalla and Grogatha filtered through the enemy lines, forming several rough clumps of a thousand or so each. Kurt could see that they were all armed with bows of various sorts. The Ellalla mostly carried longbows, though some were armed with what looked like heavy crossbows. The Grogatha carried a variety of shortbows and crossbows. They continued to filter through, and Kurt couldn’t really count their number, though it had to be more than twenty thousand. He only had six thousand archers among his twenty thousand man legion. The legion beside him, comprised mostly of Americans, had twenty thousand more, of which six thousand were archers. He had known they were operating against a more numerous opponent. It was thought that superior discipline and tactics would carry the day. Seeing the enemy much closer and getting a better grasp of his numbers, he now was not so sure.
[Form defense against archers,] came the telepathic command from Taylor, which Kurt relayed to his commanders and down the line. Within moments the lines stopped and began to form the ordered formation. The men in the front knelt and brought their shields to the ground, while the men in the next rank angled theirs over, and the next rank on back held theirs overhead. Beneath the covering the ranks not detailed to hold shields readied their light crossbows. Kurt knelt by the back of the line and under the shields while sending out a telepathic order to his archers.
[Give them a volley, then get under cover,] he sent, then looked back as the nearest cohort of bowmen sent a swarm of
arrows into the sky. The human shieldmen with them hustled into place, holding up a roof of protective cover as the archers gathered together and sought the security of the rectangular tower shields.
Kurt looked back at the enemy archers. They were firing now, each individual archer to his own rhythm. The advantage of that was there would be continuous arrows in the air. The disadvantage would be that there would not be overwhelming swarms dropping at regular intervals. He watched for a moment, then looked up to see the first arrows tipping over and coming down. He crouched down and put his own large round shield over his head. The arrows came down, striking shields and earth, but no men. All were under cover, and his own auxiliary cavalry was far back, out of range of the bows. The shafts vibrated in the faces of shields or hit and bounced away, depending on where they struck. More stuck into the ground, seeming to appear by magic. Kurt smiled at that thought. He glanced up at the sky and saw the constant rain of arrows coming down.
Kurt contacted one of the cohort commanders and gained the use of the man’s eyes. He looked through a small gap in the shield wall and saw the enemy archers plying their shafts. Crossbow bolts fell among them, fired from the tortoise formations by men detailed that task, hidden behind the shields of their mates. So far they had suffered no casualties from the enemy arrow storm. He wondered how long the enemy would keep up the useless action before they resorted to something else.
[There are very few arrows coming down on the archer formation, General,] sent the commander of the missile element of the First Legion.
Kurt looked back and had to agree with the man. Only a few arrows were dropping on each of the six formations of archers. It seemed that the enemy was going to concentrate on the closest ranks and see what they could do. Which left the legionary archers clear to…
[Give them a couple of volleys,] he sent out to his missile battalion commanders, while simultaneously sending that recommendation to the Second Legion commander, Levine.