Engines & Demons - The Undestined

Chapter 9i

Master Hepskil leant forward in his chair, and began fumbling through the countless books and rolled up papers on the wide table, until he found the map he was looking for. He unrolled it, securing its corners with various books, a large rock, and his bowl of garrola fruit. The children around the table all leant forward eagerly. The map showed the lands around Klinberg, with the strongholds of the Order of the Plains clearly marked.

The afternoon was hot, and the room was as stuffy as always.

"Klinberg," said Master Hepskil, pointing at the map with his fruit knife. "Our western forces were under the control of our Grand-commander, and he had placed our eastern forces under the commander of Dolphus Chapter, stationed at Wildonstack."

Master Hepskil indicated a fort to the east, where a line of mountains ranged south, pointing like a knife into the flatlands of the plains.

"Commander Axbulla had managed to push the enemy's eastern forces back into the mountains, and was laying siege to their southern forts. Meanwhile, in the west, our armies had pushed far across the hills beyond the Rhebus, capturing the lowland city of Halsbaad, before advancing into the Monmellier mountains. There, after months of hard fighting, our Grand-commander managed to drive back the enemy forces, trapping them in the high valley of Wessvall, cut off from the safety of their strongholds."

In his usual place by the window, Grifford listened with a measured scowl on his face. He was already quite familiar with the details of the Order's last battle.

"Even the javac of their knights would have been hard pressed to climb the icy walls of that valley. They were outnumbered, and it should have been a simple task to destroy them, hunt down the remains of their forces and then turn our attention on the enemy to the east.

"But there was a weakness in our Grand-commander's plans. To the north lay the lands of the Free-clan States, cut off from the less barbarous lands of the Order by sharp ridged rocks and snowy peaks. A pass cut through those dangerous heights, and though it was widely believed that the Free-clans would never come to the aid of their brethren, our Grand-commander saw the danger. As a precaution, he had dispatched some knights and their soldiers to guard the pass, while the rest of his troops engaged the forces trapped at Wessvall.

"The battle was not a sophisticated affair. There was little room for manoeuvre and the enemy fought with desperate aggression, but by midday we had forced them back to the highest and narrowest stretch of the valley. All that was required was to break through their hastily constructed defences and the day would be ours. But, as we made our final charge, a new enemy appeared from the north. We had misjudged the disposition of the Free-clan States, and despite their renowned enmity towards the Order of the Heights, it seemed they would rather see Monmellier in their hands than in ours. They had gathered themselves together from all of the northern lands and attacked in dreadful numbers, through the pass our troops had been sent to guard. Our defence of the pass had failed and the Free-clans had broken through."

Squire Gefry, who was once again sitting in front of Grifford, leant to Marcin, who was sitting next to him, and whispered.

"And we all know who was to blame for that failure, don't we?"

Marcin gave a smirk and glanced over his shoulder at Grifford.

Grifford's scowl deepened.

"Have you something to add, Squire Gefry?" asked Master Hepskil.

"No, Master Hepskil," said Gefry, looking up guiltily, and Marcin similarly turned to face the front.

"Good." Master Hepskil scratched at his beard. "Where was I?"