Chapter 37: Northern Bastion, Day (1) (Patreon)

By the time the sight of the grey fortress appeared in view, I was almost thankful we'd made it to the northern front. As far as I knew, there was only a small chance of a stray arrow killing me, whereas there was a 100% guaranteed chance of this carriage's rockiness being the death of me.

The carriage driver had released a flap at the front tarp, allowing a windowed view at the walls of the Northern Bastion as it took up the skyline. Despite it being a minor fortress so far as its contributions to the war was concerned, it was nothing short of magnificent when seen from afar.

Its many layers of battlements continuously rose to out-do each other, while its keep towered high in the sky, its tip piercing the grey clouds. It was a sight to inspire both us and the soldiers, of whom few now remained in the convoy.

The majority of the carriages had broken off to other towns and fortresses. To battlefields and to death. There had been little in the way of emotion from me when I'd seen the soldiers departing for certain war, knowing that they were professionals doing their duties. But seeing the security offered by the vast Northern Bastion, as well as the lack of stench and corpses to welcome us, made me long to offer this same shelter to the young soldiers who'd departed for more treacherous roads.

“Big walls,” said Magnus, nodding approvingly.

Both Iris and I waited for further comment. She willingly ceded the floor to me when it was clear none was forthcoming.

It wasn't because she was being polite. She simply preferred not having a reason to be annoyed, which speaking to Magnus regularly did to her.

“Big walls indeed,” I replied, unsure of what to add to the tactical assessment. “Fan, I take it?”

“Too right I am. Big shit works. Can just sit back and let the catapults do all the work. Idiots complain about tax money, but when you have walls high enough that ladders can't climb it, you can pay less soldiers to man it.”

I found myself being startled by Magnus's simple but logical statement. Two things which didn't often come from his mouth.

Beside me, I heard Iris heave out a sigh.

Despite actively avoiding getting arguments with Magnus, sometimes, she couldn't help herself.

“It's not that simple,” she said. “A fortress will become exponentially more costly the larger it is. The price does not rise in even increments. The break even point for expenses falls far below--”

“Big walls,” interrupted Magnus, “last a long fucking time. You know what small walls do? They collapse, crumble and get destroyed. What's the break even point for a broken wall?”

Iris made a face that said if she was interrupted again, she'd commit murder on the spot.

Unfortunately, the man being threatened was far too busy admiring the big walls ahead of him to mind the latest death threat being shown his direction.

“Again, it is not that simple. The expenses required to maintain a fortress of this size is astronomical. While it is true that an expensive, standing fortification is far more preferable to a cheap, destroyed one, the sheer costs involved means it is more logical from an economic and defensive standpoint if funds were instead used to create multiple--”

“Big walls,” said Magnus again. “Have one big set of walls and you don't need another. The enemy can't ignore something this size, or they risk getting fucked from behind.”

I saw Iris's fists crunch.

I took a step back, and did precisely nothing to aid Magnus.

“That is an outrageous simplification of the role of strategic fortifications. The presence of a single large scale fortress does not preclude the enemy from waltzing past. If it is a matter of preventing the garrison from sallying out, then there are a multitude of methods to prevent an assault from behind, especially if said fortress is completely--”

“Big walls,” said Magnus, a chuckle leaking into his voice, “mean big range. An army would have to put all its soldiers to a siege just to keep a smaller force from heading out.”

As I saw Iris approach Magnus with her fist glowing with holy retribution, either her hand or the back of Magnus's head was saved by the sound of horns being blown ahead.

Three horn blasts, to be exact.

Immediately, all of us snapped to attention, our hands to our weapons.

Those were horn blasts from the outriders. However, the number of times they sounded their horns instantly sent the convoy into a shuddering halt.

Three horn blasts signalled the presence of enemies.

The sound of soldiers disembarking from carriages filled the air. Iron boots hitting the hard tundra and the frozen ground mixed with the shouting of officers to line up in formation around the convoy.

There was a steely, professional quality to the sudden chaos, probably due to the fact that even though three horns were blasted, it was unlikely we were actually under direct attack. We were far too close to the fortress, and our convoy was too well-armed to be assaulted by any group large enough to slip past its defenders.

I looked between Iris and Magnus, then I looked at the window to the fortress.

Although we had barely gotten any closer to our destination over the last few seconds, it almost seemed to me as though the grey clouds partially covering the keep were becoming denser.

“I'll see what's going on,” I said.

My companions nodded to me as I went to the back of the carriage. Fully opening the tarp in case we needed to jump out at once, I leaned out and waved towards the nearest soldier.

It took several waves before one stopped for me.

“What's going on? I heard three horn blasts. Were enemies sighted?”

I received an uncertain shrug.

“No idea. Outriders are speaking to the officers now.”

The soldier dashed off to join his comrades in formation.

Still apprehensive, but mostly puzzled, I turned back towards my companions. However, their eyes were not on me. They were focused on the window to the fortress.

“Oh no,” said Iris, her voice hushed. “That's ...”

I went over and joined them in looking through the window.

It was only after several moments that I realised what I'd assumed to be grey clouds were, in fact, steadily descending.

Even as I watched, I saw as more of the keep was engulfed in that grey substance.

And then, to my horror, some of the battlements too.

There was nothing natural about that plume of grey. Neither smoke nor cloud, it was clearly the product of magic. And it was steadily engulfing more of the fortress.

“Three horn blasts,” I said, my voice strained. “An enemy attack.”

Iris nodded.

“But not against us.”

The Northern Bastion was under attack.

~ ~ ~

Our convoy was ushered through the rear gates at speed.

Whatever was happening to the fortress, it was plain that the soldiers did not know either. Even so, they saw the sight of our carriages and their expressions heartened.

They grew even brighter upon seeing Magnus sitting on the back of the carriage, his radiant spear in his arms glowing like a torch.

It would seem that, despite expectations, we would have a chance to fulfil our full duties as heroes after all.

Unfortunately, that opportunity came under the context of an assumed enemy attack.

The convoy stopped in the middle of a large parade square. There were few troops to welcome us here, either because the garrison were now making for the walls or there just weren't many of them. The moment we came to a halt, a trio of officers came striding towards us.

Specifically, towards Magnus.

“Your timing couldn't be better,” said the lead officer. “Thank the Goddess you arrived when you did. That grey smog has only been building for less than an hour and it's already engulfed the battlements. Our visibility is now whoever we can piss on.”

I leaned over Magnus before he could claim to have any authority over this convoy. I quickly pointed to the ones in charge instead, who were hurrying over as though their lives depended on it.

For all I knew, it probably did.

“What's the situation?” asked the convoy leader. “Our outriders reported seeing the battle flags raised on the walls. Have enemies been sighted?”

“We do not know,” replied the officer. “A smog has engulfed us. The garrison mages confirm that it's magic in nature. They are attempting to dispel it, but are having no success. They believe it is an obscuring veil.”

The convoy leader's face paled.

“An obscuring veil? But that's a … a siege tactic.”

A moment of silence resounded throughout the parade square. The soldiers in the convoy had assumed that a large band of enemies had been spotted, and that at most, they would need to prepare to sortie.

A siege, however …

“It may not be a siege,” said the officer. “The swamplands and the frozen highlands prevent any army of sufficient size from passing through the mountain pass. Our current assessment is that this is a tactic for preventing us from spotting enemies from passing by.”

Immediately, the faces on the nearby soldiers brightened. That made sense. A magical veil could certainly be employed to prevent us from scouting all enemies from the high vantage view.

I didn't share in the optimism.

A magical veil of this size and strength could only have been cast by a mage of highly prodigious skill. That alone made this enemy incredibly deadly. Moreover, if the goal was only to prevent scouting out bands of enemies to engage them, that would fail against the outriders on the ground.

As it stood, the veil only seemed to settle on the walls. It would not stop a sally from the garrison.

Meaning the obscurement was not only to stop the enemy being sighted, but specifically, to prevent them from being harmed by archers. And that meant they intended to get very close.

Suddenly, the sound of a new horn could be heard from atop the walls.

This time, it didn't merely stop at three blasts. It went up to four.

All at once, the soldiers went to a scramble. Those still on the carriages leaped out, while the officers cursed loudly. Two of them started running back towards where they'd come from. The convoy leader began shouting for his soldiers to line up for orders.

Magnus held onto his spear tightly, sensing the trouble before it showed its head. He didn't need horn blasts to know that enemies were nearby. The scent of something odious was thick in the air, and that was without the grey smog.

A battle was coming.

“Yo, that was four horn blasts. I thought it only went up to three.”

I pushed past him and leaped off the carriage. Immediately, I was joined by Iris. We began checking our belt of potions before we'd fully landed.

“It does,” I answered. “Officially, anyway.”

Magnus frowned. He clutched his spear, but was not prone to panic or even hurry. For good and bad, when he did things, it was at his own pace.

“Three is for enemies. What's four, then?”

I nodded at Iris, confirming to her that she had everything ready. Then, I turned to Magnus.

“Lots of enemies.”

~ ~ ~

The stairwells to the outer battlements were a labyrinth to navigate, even as we were helped by the garrison soldiers running for the walls. I couldn't help but impressed not only by their well-drilled response to the horn blasts, but that they were willing to run headlong into the mysterious smog that was engulfing their place of posting.

Although I kept it to myself, I couldn't help but wonder at the wisdom of dashing into magical fog. It was cast by the enemy on purpose. And while our eyes would not be able to spot anything through it, I was willing to bet that the enemy would have no such issue guessing where we were. The walkways atop the battlements offered far less choice of movement than the frozen plains beyond.

Our party hurried past the soldiers, our strides suddenly seemingly to be hastened by an unknown force. I let out a grim smile, knowing that if the Goddess's attention was on us at this moment, then that could only spell misery. There were many heroes in the north. Being the ones blessed to head somewhere faster was not a lucky omen to have.

At last, we made it up to the main battlements where the smog was thickest. True to the officer's words, visibility was severely limited here. While a soldier would be able to duel a single opponent, there was no seeing a flanking manoeuvre or a raised bow. If it came to a melee, then it would be a bloodbath, no matter the number of the opposition.

It was only when I saw the edge of the walls that I realised the true danger of the veil, though.

Catching myself at the last moment, I nearly crashed into a ballistae as I attempted to make out a horizon that was nothing less than a grey pit, twisting in on itself like billowing smoke. I shuddered at the thought that even now, crossbolts and arrows might be aimed towards us and we would not know.

Eventually, we came across a large gathering of officers in fervent discussion with one another. Among them was one who was clearly the commander of the garrison. He wore a long cloak and wielded a sceptre, its slightly glowing frame ensuring that when the arrows came, he would be second to be targetted.

The first would be Magnus, with his radiant spear.

I approached the commander, but made sure to keep a reasonable distance. There was nothing I could do about Magnus, though. At least he had enough light that he could probably see the arrows coming.

“Ordained heroes,” I explained as the first of the panicked faces turned towards us. “We've been assigned to the Northern Bastion.”

“Ordained heroes?” said the commander. “Truly? Then it's true. Reinforcements have arrived. Goddess be blessed.”

Somewhere behind me, Magnus snorted.

I merely nodded, although I wasn't sure if the movement was caught in the thickening shroud. It was only getting heavier.

“We're here to help. What's happening? Where is the enemy?”

The faces on the men became grim.

“The enemy are there,” pointed one of the officers, into the darkness.

“Where? How many? How were they seen? I heard four blasts.”

As though the evil deities opposed to the Goddess were waiting for this moment, I heard more horn blasts.

They sounded without end. No longer stopping at four blasts, they continued until the air was filled with them.

For a moment, I attempted to pinpoint from which direction the sentries were sounding the blasts.

Only when I turned my ear towards the darkness did I realise that the horns were not coming from us.

They were from the enemy.