Chapter Twenty Eight

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Arges and Steropes stared at one another, unsure of how to proceed. The real plan was to suggest Prince Aric remain secured in the base camp until he could be escorted safely back to headquarters. By Vicedonian law though, Aric could overrule any decisions made by his generals given his royal pedigree. How were they supposed to protect their prince, while simultaneously command troops and battle the enemy themselves? The only other option was to grant Prince Aric his wish. Let him ride into battle, leading the charge of his army, eager to vanquish his enemies. It seemed like a preposterous notion at first, but as they stood there contemplating their response to Aric’s question, the idea manifested itself into the perfect solution. If Aric were to be harmed, his injury would galvanize the soldiers. Whether they were fond of him or not, he was still their prince, and they were sworn to defend him, particularly against the Renzai. Also, any soldier who killed the prince’s attacker would be elevated to hero status. The two generals nodded in silent agreement before revealing their strategy to Aric.

“My prince, we wanted to wait a few days before initiating our next offensive. General Arges’ soldiers are exhausted from their long march, and we still have preparations to make.”

“I do not care for such trivial details. When do we attack?” Aric asked, bluntly.

“In three days, my lord. We will attack at first light,” responded Steropes, forcing his words with a tint of kindness to not offend his prince.

“Too long and at the wrong time. We will strike tomorrow… under the cover of night. The enemy won’t expect it, and the darkness should work to our advantage.”

Arges glared at Aric. After all he had done to protect him from the Dark Forest, he still had the audacity to believe he was in charge. Arges bit his lip, holding back his true feelings and offered instead, “It wouldn’t be prudent to throw the men straight into battle. I know them well, and they are not ready to fight. They need their rest and time to prepare, in order to be at their optimal condition.”

“Prince Aric, you have not even heard the rest of the strategy. Won’t you hear us out before you make any final decisions?” Steropes had to restrain himself from striking the petulant child sitting before him. 

Aric slouched deeper into his chair. “Fine, what’s the plan?”

Steropes maneuvered some of the pieces on the map. “There are three bridges that span the length of the lake running east to west. They are all spaced evenly out amongst the lake. Within the first few days of the battle, all three bridges were destroyed by heavy artillery. We, on the western side of the lake control the larger territory. The enemy, on the eastern side of the lake control less territory, but maintain the higher ground. We suffered heavy casualties at the onset of the battle. Even though we outnumbered them, we weren’t able to take control of their position. Boulders and flaming arrows rain down upon us every time we advance. Marching our men through the southern pass pushes them through a funnel, making them easy targets for the enemy.”

“What about the water? Is there no way to move men across the lake?” asked Aric.

“We sent out decoys on a wooden raft to see what would happen. As soon as they get within range of their archers, they’re dead. Besides, even if they managed to make it across the lake in one piece, they would have to then climb up the side of the cliff. It’s a dead end. It’s too risky.”

“And there’s no other way to infiltrate the enemy’s base?” Aric studied the map, focusing on the northern half. Steropes followed his eyes and interjected before Aric had any more bright ideas.

“The northern part of the lake is where the Phalanx Mountains are… where the Midas Caves are hidden. It is the reason we are here. If we were to win, the treasures found in those caves could help us build an army the world has never seen. But those caves are notoriously confusing. If we were to send a contingent through them, there is almost no chance that they would make it out the other side in time to flank the enemy. It’s just too risky. That’s why we are left with only the southern pass. The enemy knows it too, and that’s why we have been at an impasse for so long.”

Arges examined the drawing of the three bridges on the map. “Where did you say the bridges were broken?”

“Right about this point. The enemy blew these sections to bits with their catapults.”

“What kind of catapults do they use? Have you been able to see them?

“Yeah, they use traditional mangonel catapults.”

“And what kind of long range artillery do we have?

“Ballistae. What are you getting at, Arges?”

“If we were to situate our ballistae at these sections of the broken bridges.” Arges pointed to the western side of each damaged bridge. “We would be able to bombard their base camp while our infantry pushed through the southern pass below. If we could send them into disarray, it would give our soldiers a better chance of making it up the hill.”

“Good plan, except for the fact that it won’t work. Our ballistae have about the same range as their mangonels. We’ve already tried it, but both sides end up placing their heavy artillery just outside of each other’s range.”

“There is a way, Steropes. You can modify the ballistae to improve their range at the expense of accuracy. My soldiers have done it before. We’ll place the ballistae just out of reach of their catapults. Once the enemy begins their attack, it’ll give away their general positions. All we have to do is aim in that direction. The surrounding damage from each ballista will be enough to preoccupy them while our soldiers advance.” 

“Sounds like a plan, if you can make these modifications, Arges,” Steropes rolled up the map and set it aside.

“And where am I to be during this attack?” asked Aric as he rose from his chair.

“Why, you are going to be at the vanguard of the attack, my lord. No better motivation for the soldiers than to see their prince leading the charge. You will do honor to your father the king, leading us into battle as he has done countless times before.” Arges watched for the prince’s reaction as his words began to settle in.

Aric’s hands began to tremble, he himself at first believing the cause to be fear. Did the Black of the Dark Forest linger within his soul? He searched his emotions and soon realized that that wasn’t the case at all. A smile appeared across his face. He wasn’t shaking from fear; rather, he was having trouble containing his excitement. He had been granted his wish. His dream realized, finally leading his men into an epic battle for the ages. It sounded so valiant in his mind. He could already picture himself, standing triumphant at the conclusion of this battle. General Yagar cowering, or perhaps even dead at his feet, the Vicedonian army cheering his name loudly, raising up their prince… their most beloved prince. Aric made his way towards the exit, paused at the curtains without turning around, and spoke.

“We attack in two days.”

With that he disappeared from the generals’ sight.

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