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Ravelin
Part 6
The rest of the day passed with no sign of grimal activity. Towards evening, the scout groups announced the discovery of another tripwire.
“We should spring it like we did the last one,” suggested Blaine.
Lewellyn nodded. “I agree.”
Blaine addressed their lieutenants. “When that’s done, scout ahead about fifty meters. You should find another trap.”
Lewellyn looked at her quizzically. “How do you know that?”
Blaine sighed. “If it was here before, it’s probably still here now.” She looked carefully at their surroundings. “This is it. This is where we were ambushed the first time. Two pit traps — the one we just found, and the next one — took out two of our defensive lines. The grimms swept in during the confusion and overwhelmed us.”
Lewellyn looked about anxiously. By now, they didn’t need the marshal’s Teivan senses to tell them that they were being watched.
Sharing his thoughts, Blaine continued. “We’ll lose the daylight soon. We should spring these traps quickly, lay down our bridges and make camp. I don’t want to be caught between two gaping pits when the attack comes. Not again.”
Lewellyn nodded his agreement and issued the orders. Within minutes, the chops of axes on wood echoed around them. They were soon drowned out by a pair of low rumbles. Before long, the first tree trunks were being laid across the pits. By the time twilight took hold, both pit traps were behind them and they were making camp.
The two captains sat together in the center of the formation with their aides. As she munched absently on her dry rations, Blaine looked around proudly. Torches were pitched into the ground around the camp’s perimeter, but there were no fires within the camp itself — mobility was key to defending against grimms, and campfires got in the way. Each platoon was responsible for keeping its section of the perimeter lit, and although the extra light would provide only scant seconds of warning, that was all the Praetorians needed to be on their feet with weapons in hand. They had spent months training for this mission. They were ready.
The troops clustered together in squads munching on dry rations. Between the perimeter torches and the noise from dozens of quiet conversations, Blaine had no doubt that the grimms had to be aware of their location. But would it be enough?
“Do you think they’ll come tonight?”
Blaine considered this question. She regarded the corporal who asked it. The young man was two years into his field service. Like her, he was a survivor of Marshal Wallace’s battalion, and, like her, he chose to forego extended leave to return to Ravelin. He knew as well as she did that the grimms would come when they felt the humans were most vulnerable — when their guard was down.
It was well into the early hours of the next morning when the answer came. The pitch that the Federates used to fuel their torches burned for almost the full night. The perimeter flames began to sputter just as the faint predawn light touched the sky.
“For the valor of the Keep!”
The Praetorian battle cry echoed throughout the camp, accompanied by the blare of horns. Blaine had thrown off her bedroll and was ready for battle before she even realized what was happening. Without a word, she and Lewellyn divided the defense between them. He took command of the western front while she darted to the east.
Masses of dark blurs flew from the trees on either side of the road to attack the waking camp. The outmost defensive lines were quickly overwhelmed, but the Praetorians were better prepared than they were under Marshal Wallace. Having learned from their previous experience, they had spent the last few weeks drilling for every possible situation — including this one.
“Keep to your squads!” shouted Blaine. “Cover each other! Archers, look to the treetops! Pikes, to the tree-line!”
Her commands were hardly needed. The platoon and squad commanders had tight control over their troops. The grimals were attacking in two waves. The first was a frontal assault on the ground, but other groups were leaping over the pikes to land catlike behind the front line. A second line of infantry armed with short swords engaged these grimals before they could finish the pikes from the back. Within minutes the archery unit was fully formed and organized, and they started picking off grimals as they leaped from the tree cover.
The grimals’ feline agility was difficult to counter, and the razor claws on their hands and feet slashed and cut as if from nowhere. But what the Praetorians lacked in speed they made up for in discipline. Under Wallace’s command, the battle was quickly reduced to a bloody melee, but now the humans kept to their defensive patterns. Blaine watched as her troops resisted the urge to follow the grimals into individual combat. The grimals danced and tumbled around her troops as they did before, but instead of allowing themselves to be pulled free of their formations, the Praetorians stood firm, forcing the grimals to come to them. The squads on the ends slowly pinched inward, giving the Praetorian lines an almost semicircular shape. It would quickly become impossible for the grimals to deftly dance free of one human without moving into the range of someone else.
Blaine noted with pride that her troops were forcing the grimals back, but sneaking a look behind her, she saw that Lewellyn’s force was having significant trouble. There seemed to be twice as many attackers on his side than hers.
Darting forward with her reserve force, she shouted at the squad commanders in front of her.
“Reinforce the western line!”
They obeyed without hesitation, and three dozen Praetorians wheeled around and sprinted for Lewellyn’s position.
Blaine scarcely had time to consider the significance of her move. The grimals were fighting more ferociously on the western side of the road than on the eastern side, where she was. Yet Marshal Milius was somewhere deep in the forest on her side.
Had he made a mistake?
A short horn blast sounded clearly behind her. She turned back and saw that Lewellyn was still hard-pressed in spite of the reinforcements she had sent. She ordered the squads on the ends that were pinching in to press forward so she could tighten her lines. She then sent another squad west.
Or maybe they are drawing us away from something, she mused.
There was no time to consider this further as she raised her shield to defend a grimal attack. Its claws skittered away and she stabbed forward, catching its side as it leaped away. As it fell, it twisted around in a way no human could and slashed with its foot, slicing into Blaine’s shield arm with a claw. It followed through and rolled toward the center of battle, eying her venomously. Roaring in pain and anger, Blaine resisted the urge to follow it, knowing that if it didn’t succumb its wound it would fall prey to one of her flanking squads.
She shouted a command, and the squads in the middle of her formation pressed their advantage. The semicircle had now tightened to the point where she could see the entire battle in her periphery. The grimals were confined to the center, with the Praetorian formation having effectively eliminated the advantage of the enemy’s agility.
As before, the grimals were almost completely silent. Even their cries of pain were oddly muted, making it simple for the humans to hear what was going on around them. Blaine didn’t have to look behind her to know what was happening. Thinning her own line a bit, she sent Lewellyn more reinforcements.
Then everything stopped.
As one, the grimals pulled back. They crouched to the ground and cocked their heads as though listening for something, though Blaine could hear nothing. Then, with an eeriness that would haunt Blaine long after the battle’s end, the grimals’ eyes narrowed, they hissed forcefully, and darted into the forest. Some of the troops around her cheered, though most were dumbfounded.
More shouts behind them caused her to turn around. The grimals who were keeping Lewellyn’s force at bay were fleeing into the forest and scrambling to the treetops. Leaping from top to top, the grimals cleared the Praetorians’ wide formation and sprinted across the road. Taking advantage of the flight, the archery unit fired indiscriminately, taking down grimals as they passed. In a moment, it was over.
Lewellyn, panting and bleeding, ran up to Blaine.
“Captain Blaine, is it done?”
Blaine thought for a quick moment. The grimals had heard something. Something that called to them.
The marshal!
Hurrying forward, Blaine started shouting commands.
“Attack formations! Squad by squad! Pikes in front, swords behind! Archers to me! Pursue the enemy!”
Lewellyn touched her shoulder. “Into the forest?”
She nodded. “Into the forest. Leave a detachment of medics to deal with the wounded. We’ll bury our dead afterwards.”
Blaine held Lewellyn’s gaze. “This is it.”
The Praetorians reformed into attack lines. At a nod from her commander, one of Blaine’s aides put a horn to her lips and returned the blast. With a series of hoarse cries, they stormed the forest. Within minutes, they heard the blast of a horn from somewhere ahead of them.
Stay tuned for the next chapter…
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