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Ravelin
Part 4
Our defensive lines are down!
Duncan watched grimals dance between his people with impunity. The Praetorians were packed so tightly together that there was no room for them to move freely. They quickly regrouped into squads, but the tide had already turned against them.
We need our archers!
Duncan fought his way over to the ring of soldiers that protected the remnant of the archery unit. All around him were flailing bodies of grimals and humans. Right ahead of him, a private caught a leaping attacker on her shield and stabbed upward with her sword, impaling the creature. As she extracted her weapon, she was jumped from behind and knocked down. Duncan jabbed his dagger into its back and threw it off, but it had sunk its claws into her throat. With no time to think, Duncan darted away.
I have to take control!
Duncan reached the archery squad and grabbed a lieutenant. “Come on, we’re leaving!”
Duncan led them to the east side of the road.
“Into the forest!” he shouted. “Move!”
A grimal jumped from the tree above him before he could save more of his troops. It danced sideways from his sword but he grabbed his dagger and slashed open its belly. It opened its mouth in a silent scream of pain, revealing frightening incisors. It tried to maul his hand but he twisted away and lopped its head off with his sword.
“Let’s go, Praetorians,” he shouted. “This is Captain Duncan Milius! Fall back to the east perimeter! The east perimeter, into the forest! Fall back!”
Duncan looked back and saw Marshal Wallace falter. Surrounded by the bodies of grimals and humans, he fell prone to his knees. Duncan tried to fight his way over to his commander. A grimal slashed Wallace’s throat open. The standard of Valor’s Keep, the honor of which they had all sworn to protect, lay trampled on the ground.
With a hoarse cry, Duncan gave up. “Northeast, people, move it! Stay away from the road!”
He darted past them and they followed obediently. Looking back, Duncan saw a score of Praetorians running at a frenzied pace, weaving around the trees. Behind them, grimals looked like dark blurs leaping from one pine to the next in pursuit. Duncan ordered his archers to fire three rounds at the pursuers before rejoining the flight. Soon, the sounds of battle faded into the distance...
*
That battle felt like a lifetime ago. Now, he was in command, supervising the debarkation of his troops in their mission to retake Fort Ravelin and restore the Praetorship’s honor. The battle plan was his this time. Failure or success now fell on him.
Taking a deep breath, Duncan remembered how he was drawn to the grimals right before the battle, how he knew their intentions, and how he knew how to escape. Duncan was counting on this strange intuition to carry him through his return to Ravelin. He never explained this to Jarren — she wouldn’t believe him, nor would she forgive him for betting his life on such a reckless hunch.
But he knew, and his troops believed it.
Captain Blaine moved to stand beside him, her large pack slung over one shoulder. The foredeck of their ship bobbed lightly as they stood on it.
“I wish we had a topographical map,” she muttered. “Taking the high ground is fine in theory, but you need to know where the high ground is!”
Duncan smiled. “True enough. I guess we’ll just have to make one as we go.” He pointed south to the Alpas Mountains in the distance, where Ravelin was located. “Besides, we’re in the foothills now. The closer we get to those, the higher the elevation.”
Blaine nodded. “True enough.”
The pier at the start of the road to Ravelin was much smaller than Valandov’s dockyard. It was able to accommodate only two galleasses at once. The ships were forced to maneuver around one another to access the pier. The last of the galleasses — Duncan’s ship — was now in position. He looked on proudly as three of the four squads debarked and jogged to their assigned positions on the road.
“They’re ready for this,” murmured Blaine, as if reading his thoughts. “You’ve trained them well. We’ve all been briefed. We know our jobs. The troops believe in you.”
Duncan eyed her curiously, unsure how to respond.
Belief in a Teivan, he marveled.
“Assemble the senior staff,” he replied. “Let’s get this mission underway.”
Blaine saluted and headed off.
Duncan headed below. From this point on, he had to make sure that he was no longer seen from the shore. He headed aft to his quarters, which doubled as a makeshift war room. He passed through the sailors’ quarters, and the few who weren’t on duty scrambled out of their hammocks to salute him. Duncan had long ago given up on trying to explain that he wasn’t their commanding officer, but the ship’s skipper insisted that Duncan let them show their respect. Returning their salutes, the marshal left them to their rest.
Presently, Blaine arrived with the other three captains and took their places. After a week on the river, they had learned to ignore the ship’s constant bobbing.
“The debarkation went well,” stated Duncan.
“Yes, sir,” answered Blaine. “No problems to report.”
The commander nodded. “And the squads that are still on the ships...?”
Captain Muryn responded. “In their quarters on the lower decks, as ordered. Each ship has one squad remaining.”
“Excellent.” Duncan studied Muryn. A squat, broad man with brooding features, he was the officer left in charge of Valandov’s garrison when Wallace left to relieve Ravelin. Had Duncan not been promoted, Muryn would probably have been given Wallace’s command. In the short time they had served together, Duncan had been impressed by his professionalism and insight.
The marshal addressed his first officer. “Captain Blaine, you’ll move out with the troops along the road as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You were here last time, you know what to expect. You know what grimal traps can do.”
The others noticed the unspoken understanding that passed between Duncan and Blaine. Duncan thought for a moment about the non-Praetorians that Jarren saw boarding one of their ships at Valandov, the people who carried the strange implements.
“Follow your guides, listen to their advice. Let your sappers do their work and protect them at all costs. Our success — and your lives — depend on it.”
“I’ve given Captain Lewellyn direct responsibility over them,” she replied.
Duncan turned to Lewellyn. “Excellent.” He addressed Lewellyn and Blaine. “Take your time. The grimals will expect our return along the road — they’ll have reset their traps and maybe even made some new ones. Don’t take any unnecessary risks, and whatever you do, stay out of the large defensive formations that did us in last time. The keys to success against grimals are maneuvers in squads and platoons.”
“We know, sir. You prepared us for this.”
Duncan smiled grimly. “I know.” He leaned in close, holding his two captains with his gaze. He spoke slowly and emphatically, and his Teivan accent became more pronounced. “I want to greet all of my troops when we meet up. Do you understand?”
Blaine and Lewellyn returned his gaze with steely determination. “You will, sir. All of us.”
The marshal nodded solemnly. “You’re dismissed. We’ll see you in a few days.”
Blaine and Lewellyn rose, saluted, and left. Duncan turned to Muryn. “Your lieutenants are ready?”
“Yes, sir. As I said, one squad remains below deck on each ship. If the grimals are watching, it will look to them as if the ships have completely emptied.”
“Good. Have the ships’ captains send word: the remaining troops are confined to quarters. The order is to rest. We have a long night ahead of us.”
Muryn stood up. “We do indeed, sir.”
Duncan rose, as well. “I’ll inform the captains to anchor the galleasses in the middle of the river.”
Muryn nodded. “Good idea.” The captain saluted, and Duncan returned it. “See you at midnight, sir.”
Stay tuned for the next chapter…
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