Stormlands ( Book 2 of the Torrent Skies Saga)

Chapter Nineteen: Wake of the Rain

The field smelled awful. The stench of death and smoke and blood clung to everything, and hung in the air like a miasma. The battlefield was still a mess, despite having been cleared of bodies. Arrow heads, and gore matted the ground like a macabre carpet. Places like this left a strange feeling upon everyone who crossed them, and Lugaria was not immune. He kept his expression unreadable, as he approached one of the large orcish siege machines.

Shields, and spears, and even a few swords were jammed into the machine. Wood had been splintered and metal bent, making what could have been something from a nightmare. Red dew dripped from it, and he sighed. It was an old, but indistinguishably effective weapon. The only way they were stopped once they started was jamming up the gears, hidden behind a metal plate, or killing the operators. Neither was an easy task when faced down by a ton of sharpened metal and brute force.

They might have won this battle, but there would be another. More of these, and other weapons just as brutal. Of course, more men were coming. But he wondered if they would be here in time to witness the next wave of death, because there were more orcs, too.

A sizable number had skirted through the forest and they had sent more than one raid to other camps and places even though Aughk'tor was their main goal.

They wanted to take the tunnel and raze all that lay beyond it, but they were smart enough to realize that weakening their whole enemy would help them achieve that, should they succeed. Risky, but worth every life to them if they won.

The Uhma'zarhin's were outraged. One chunk of the orcish army had tried to light Uhm'trimbyha on fire. They had failed, but the world tree now bore more than one scar.

The Uhma'zarhin's now counseled further with Graiden and Beymor, discussing how to best protect both places. They would not leave their homes undefended. Strange, he thought. How this small raiding problem had turned so violently into a continental war. Killing the chieftain should have ended whatever sparks of blood-lust the orcs had held. Instead, it had only made them more violent. Something else was at play here. Had to be. The orcs were too tactical, too well organized.

He knew now that they had already planned this war. They had wanted to spark it. He had spent his whole winter fighting to repel the raids, and never once did he see that underlying reason. He wondered how many people had died because of that. He wondered how many more would die before that mistake was corrected.

Lugaria picked up his pace, by the slightest degree. He would not be seen sprinting like a dog, but he did not want to keep Graiden waiting.

As the company was preparing to march from the gates of Aughk'tor, Lugaria came through, and headed for Graiden. He ducked through the doorway and heard Graiden's voice, and the grumbling of another.

"Four hundred dead, and more injured," Graiden said. "Our clerics are getting tired, but the worst are healing, already."

He heard a sigh from Beymor as he paused at the entryway to the room.

"Come on in," Beymor said, stepping aside. He looked exhausted, and worn. His armor bore a large dent, and several new scratches.

Lugaria nodded to him.

"How's the field?" Graiden asked.

"It'll be cleared completely by noon."

"Good," Graiden said. "I take it you found the main army?"

Lugaria nodded. "Inside the forest line. Well set up camp. They might wait us out."

Graiden grimaced. "We'll draw them out, then."

"Maneuvers are going to be tricky. The forest line is sparse enough we can hold a line, but moving around..."

"We might be able to goad them onto the field. Then push them out of the camp with skirmish fighters."

"Skirmish fighting is our best bet in the trees."

"But our ranks are our greatest advantage over them."

"Aye," Beymor said, before Lugaria could speak again. "If we have to fight them in skirmish, even fighting on even ground, I don't like those odds."

Graiden tapped his fingers on the stone tabletop. "We can wait them out. We have supplies arriving tomorrow. Once they hit us we can try and push them out past that camp, and take our ground back."

"That might shake them. If we let them believe we're afraid of skirmishes." Lugaria said.

"The uhma'zarhin's are staying?" Beymor asked.

"Of course. They're not going to leave Uhm'trimbyha defenseless, but Avris will be here tomorrow."

"Is she going to fight?" Beymor asked, with a worried and curious look on his face.

Graiden shrugged. "I don't know. She'll decide that, but even if all she offers is council it will be welcome. She knows the land better than anyone." He looked to Lugaria. "Even you."

"Good. We'll need that." Lugaria's shoulders felt tense. If Avris was arriving, that put every egg in one basket. The end of this was was going to be bloody. All or nothing, he thought. "There's another thing I've been pondering.."

Graiden waited with an expectant look on his face.

"There has to be an outside influence. Something bigger. Orcs have their aspirations, but ruling over a continent seems almost too big. They aren't dumb. They go for areas they can control. We've seen their forces, and their capabilities. And I'm betting there's something else, that's promising them they have the power to control all of Itrea."

"They wouldn't make this move unless they were sure they could handle it," Beymor agreed.

"You think they were planning war before, when the raids started?"

Lugaria nodded.

"That seems a little outside their usual... attention span," Beymor said.

"Thus the other influence."

Graiden's fingers tapped on the table once again. "Well, they'll need to reveal it eventually."

Lugaria grimaced internally. He did not enjoy the thought of not knowing what kind of surprise might show up. They had confidence that they should not and it was not borne of ego. "How're we going to prepare for it?"

"We're going to hold Aughk'tor. And the Uhma'zarhin's are going to keep them from Uhm'trimbyha. If they have no sturdy hold, they won't make it to the other side of the mountains."

"And if they take the tunnels?"

"We keep them away from the tunnels, and make sure they can't create any of their own. We hold, and push them back, until they have nowhere else to go."

The way Graiden spoke, left a chill down Lugaria's spine. If they did not hold the tunnels, all that Sahn-Raidar had built and tended would be ash.

"Can you go and scout again?"

"At the main camp?"

Graiden nodded.

Lugaria stretched his neck. "I can, but what am I looking for?"

"Whatever it is that is giving them this tactical edge, do they have a library? Someone advising them? We need to know how they have this advantage. Anything you can find to point us towards figuring this out. If they have this knowledge, then they might have more, and I don't like not knowing what they are capable of."

"I'll leave at sunset."