The Complete Duology by M. H. Woodscourt

Author:M. H. Woodscourt [Woodscourt, M. H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: M. H. Woodscourt

Chapter 3

General Haratin had nothing kind to say about Gwyn’s strategy, but though Lawen had his doubts, he backed Gwyn up with vehemence at the war council. Protests notwithstanding, Gwyn had final say.

To distract the Crow King’s forces stationed outside the walls of Bayton, Gwyn ordered General Haratin to take a force of 500 men and position them within the forest boundaries near the highway leading to the port city. The general must barrage the enemy with arrows each day at eventide for three days, changing up their location now and then to keep the enemy guessing and exasperated.

Now, on the third night, a force of 300 men waited for true night to begin their assent up Dorshen Heights, bearing picks, shovels, and weaponry. Gwyn stood at their head, watching the few wisps of cloud clustered around the full moon, useless and faint. Should any crows or other spies of the king be watchful tonight, Gwyn’s plan would fail.

The situation within the walls of the city grew more desperate every day. Gwyn must aid them now, or it would be too late. Tonight, Nox was due to return. If he never came, this was the only option left. Gwyn must make his move, or crawl back home, defeated and condemned to the Crow King’s justice.

Afallon above, please lend us Thy victorious sword. Shroud us from the enemy.

He uttered the prayer again and again.

But the moon remained bright, the clouds sparse, the wind a mere whisper. Gwyn heard every shift and murmur of conversation like a shout in his ear.

Lawen stood to his right, Aluem to his left. Both companions stayed silent and grim. What the unicorn thought of Gwyn’s plan, he didn’t divulge.

The contingent waited as long as Gwyn dared to let it. But conditions never altered, and he sighed. “Move out.”

Lawen issued the birdcall signal and 300 soldiers climbed the slope leading to the heights along a narrow pathway.

Gwyn rode Aluem along the path, scrutinizing the way. He blinked. The scouts he’d sent ahead had vanished in a growing haze. A fog crept in, thick and frigid. The moon blazed far above, but Gwyn couldn’t see around him more than a foot or two. A smile broke across his lips and he urged Aluem on a little faster.

Two hours trickled away before Gwyn crested Dorshen Heights. Thick fog hung in the air as he peered down into the shadowed city of Bayton. Not a single candle lit the streets; a pall seemed to hover over it, despite the full moon.

“Behold Bayton,” Gwyn whispered, “the city whose soul has been decimated by an ancient tyrant.”

The first twenty men of the contingent heaped up earth along the heights under the cover of the fog, while a second group set up a series of miniature catapults Gwyn had commissioned from a sympathetic blacksmith. Crafted for fast disassembly to make transportation from location to location easier, Gwyn had been itching to try them out for weeks now. He only risked bringing three catapults up the cliffs tonight, but three would be more than enough to insight nervousness in the enemy.

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