Chapter 232: On the Verge of Calamity (1/2)

”Sir! The Ashborn are moving to attack the enemy!” Fredrick yelled as he pulled open the tent flap.

Morris snapped awake, already rolling out of his cot before the adjutant's words had penetrated the fog of his sleep-addled brain. It didn't take him long to respond in a suitable manner. ”Shit. How many? How long ago did they leave?”

”We think they took the majority of their warriors, somewhere in the region of 4000 orcs. The lead elements departed roughly twenty minutes ago, with the remainder following shortly thereafter.” The old soldier replied.

Morris paused in the process of pulling on his boots to look up. ”Why wasn't I informed earlier?”

”Sir, they claimed to be conducting reconnaissance in force under your orders. The officer on duty was given written documents to that effect that included your signature. It was only after they'd left the compound and started marching towards the Tenundian camp that we realized the deception.”

Gritting his teeth, Morris stood, grabbing his campaign cloak and throwing it over his shoulders.

[They must have forged my signature. Gah! I should have implemented stricter security measures for written orders.] He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

[There will be time for kicking myself later. Now, I need to focus on how to mitigate the damage this will cause.]

He essentially had two options. One, he could abandon the Ashborn, allowing them to win or lose on their own. This was the route he was inclined to follow, since they'd disobeyed his direct orders. Not that he could really blame them for that, since they were only allies, and therefore weren't really beholden to him or his authority. Only his father's reputation had kept them in line up to this point, but the Count had been gone long enough for even that to fade.

Quite frankly, he was surprised that the warlike Ashborn had stayed their hands as long as they did. He'd been fully expecting them to simply walk out of camp one day, saying that they'd had enough. Which, now that he thought about it, was a far more believable scenario than this misdirection with orders. It was frankly uncharacteristic of Talgratha and her people.

[Is something else involved? Or someone?] It was worth looking into once the current crisis had passed.

His other option was to move to support the Ashborn's attack. Strategically, this was probably the best option. The coalition army was superior in terms of both numbers and equipment, and would likely make short work of the Tenundian rearguard and their orcish allies. However, this would not only defy his father's commands, but put the already delicate balance of power among the members of the coalition at risk. In the worst case scenario, it could lead to the dissolution of the army in its entirety.

Ordinarily, this kind of decision would require careful deliberation, but he didn't have the time. Acting on instinct, he decided to proceed with the second option, which he hoped had the best chance of maintaining the cohesiveness of the coalition army.

Following through on the Ashborn's attack would require his personal supervision. He would need to be on site to coordinate the haphazard addition of his troops, when they were available.

Morris forcibly calmed himself, and began giving commands. ”Go find General Holmes and have him get the cavalry ready to move. I want them to move up behind the Ashborn, and prepare to act when I give the signal to do so. Also, I want him to assign a team of twenty skilled combatants to be ready to follow me when I depart. When you are done with that, get the command section to issue a stand-to warning. We need everyone up and ready to fight as soon as possible.”

The adjutant saluted, and started sprinting towards the south side of the compound, where the horse were being kept.

Morris scoured the nearby tents. He needed to get ready himself, but that would require assistance. Luckily, he spotted one of the Graveston footmen nearby, and Morris was able to direct him to prepare his horse and armor. The man went to grab a few of his colleagues and swore that he would complete his task in short order.

Commands given and preparations made, he stalked over to the mostly deserted command tent and took a moment to look over the current scouting reports on the enemy's location and formation. By all appearances, they were still holding to their defensive earthworks on the top of a nearby hill, but suspected that would change once the battle started in earnest.

His strategists had long ago noticed the weakness in the Tenundian defensive perimeter, a narrow, but gentle slope on the northern side of the hill, which would be ideal for potential attackers. Not only was it the most easily accessible section of the defenses, but its unusual shape limited the defender's field of fire, greatly reducing the damage one could expect to receive during an assault. It was such an obvious vulnerability, that any commander with a modicum of military experience would have gone to great lengths to reinforce it, yet the Tenundians hadn't done so. Which was precisely why Morris had his tacticians plan to attack from other directions, should it have become necessary.

Unfortunately, since he'd never intended to actually launch an assault on the encampment, he hadn't bothered to share his opinions of the approach to his commanders. So, he was concerned that Talgratha and her errant tribe might head for the weak point without considering what sorts of traps might be laid there.

[Surely she's smarter than that.] He tried to convince himself, knowing that it was probably futile to hope. The half-orc was intelligent by the standards of her people, but she suffered from the same directness and single-mindedness. This made her an extremely effective leader when there was a clear goal in sight, but it could cause her to ignore or try to fight through obstacles that she'd be better off avoiding.

He could all too easily see her finding the easy approach suspicious, but deciding to attack up it anyway, trusting on the ferocity of her charge to push her way though any difficulty.

While looking over the map, he considered his options. [If I can get them to divert to the other side of this ridge line, then I can bring up the rest of the army to pressure the main front here. They'd be a bit exposed, and will probably have a hard time overcoming the defensive line, but its better than the alternative.]

He was still musing on tactics, when a pair of Graveston footmen arrived bearing his armor, a suit of field plate. With practiced ease they assisted him with the laborious process of putting it on, and in a few short minutes, he stepped out of the command tent, dressed for battle.

His horse was tied at the hitching post nearby, and surrounded by the contingent of cavalry he'd requested. Apparently General Holmes had appreciated the urgency of the situation, and had his men moving with their trademark swiftness.

The team was led by a captain wearing the uniform of the Eastern Army. She saluted Morris as he approach to began the laborious process of getting onto his horse in full armor. ”My lord, we're here as requested. General Holmes wanted me to tell you that he'd have 2000 horsemen in place within thirty minutes.”