As the first ranks of men of Logres slowly marched out of the trees, the goblins began to move. There was a good mile between the front lines, giving them plenty of time to react.

  The spearmen brought their squares closer together, creating a solid wall of shields ready to protect their allies. The end result resembled an extended rectangle. The formation was dense and studded with pointy lances. The perfect defense against cavalry.

  The slingers meanwhile spread out over the available space. Each picked up a rock into an empty hand and prepared to unleash a barrage of projectiles on the advancing humans. It seemed like the goblins were going to accept this fight. No reinforcements arrived to back them up. At least not yet.

  Varre’s forces split up into two groups. The first continued directly North, heading straight for the enemy positions on the other side of the valley. Their path would take them just past the ruins of Northport.

  The goblins had decided to leave some empty space between their positions and the stream itself. They either weren’t afraid of knights getting through the gap, or left it for their own allies to make use of.

  Whether it was an opportunity or a trap, the humans decided to ignore it for now. They focused on the enemy troops directly. Rather than get bogged down on the village’s ruined streets and skirt around the piles of burnt down logs, the soldiers maneuvered on the empty ground.

  The second assault group broke off from the first and turned towards the Northeast. They crossed the stream through the freshly constructed fortified bridges and began moving towards the other group of goblins.

  The two platoons would now be unable to coordinate their actions. If one required aid, the only reliable way to reach them would be to turn all the way back and cross right next to friendly positions. The only other path was the narrow platform in Northport itself.

  In an emergency, it could be used to send individual messengers or save the lives of a few lucky souls, but that was all it could accomplish. Horses moving across would need to go single file. Even then rushing through would be dangerous. If an armored knight fell into the stream, he could drown or get washed away.

  For better or worse, the two sections would need to act completely independently. Any reinforcements would need to be sent by Varre directly.

  To accommodate that, the king sent five thousand infantry behind the vanguard. They’d stay a good distance behind their peers, ready to support their allies or accept the brunt of an enemy charge. The newly constructed bridges had limited capacity too, so the soldiers had to start moving now if they wanted any chance of joining the battle.

  The ranged vanguard moved slowly and carefully, waiting for any sign of trouble from the goblins. Nothing came. No sudden charges, or reinforcements arrived. Everyone watched with bated breath as the two sides got ever closer.

  Then the humans finally got within range of the enemy. The slingers, benefiting from their additional reach thanks to the height, began to wind up their weapons. After a few quick swings around their heads, a barrage of rocks began to rain down on the approaching men.

  This was the first real test for the brand new shield mages and they performed admirably. Varre squinted his eyes, trying to follow the projectiles as they flew through the air. Even from the great distance, he could see the rocks visibly slow down.

  They were already flying at the very limit of their range, so the force of each attack was low. Some stones harmlessly bounced off the invisible energies floating in the air and dropped to the ground, as if impacting a solid wall. Others, perhaps smashing against the defenses of weaker students, pushed a little further and ended up falling slightly short of their mark. A few particularly lucky ones got through even that, but the rocks had lost enough speed to avoid causing lethal damage.

  Once they recognized the flaws in their current protections, the commoners quickly adjusted. They redirected their shields, supporting their weaker comrades as needed. A few of the more paranoid guild mages joined their peers and contributed their own expertise to this endeavor.

  The goblin’s first salvo was unsuccessful. But it told the humans that they were approaching effective range of their own.

  The archers continued marching for a few dozen more feet, joined by the shield casting commoners. They could probably reach the spearmen from their current placement, but that was never their real target. To make up for the difference in height, they needed to get slightly closer to begin firing on the unarmored slingers.

  The mages however could get to work already. Archmage Kadmos fired off a sizzling red flare into the skies and his entire guild, on both sides of the stream, unleashed a massive barrage of spells straight at the enemy.

  The spearmen raised their shields, but wood could not stand against magical explosions. Mystical energies rippled through their ranks, throwing warriors left and right and ragdolls.

  Kadmos had no intention to conserve his aura. At least not during this initial opening. He hoped that an unflinching, overwhelming assault would damage the enemy’s morale, while inspiring his own side to fight harder. It appeared to have worked.

  The bulk of the infantry, who continued to slowly march a good distance behind their compatriots, cheered as loudly as their throats would allow. The sound could be heard for miles around, as the men celebrated this initial exchange. So far, Varre’s side was coming out ahead.

  The goblins however would not repeat the massacre of the forest crossing. They weren’t completely defenseless. They brought their own ranged troops and would eventually break through the magical defenses. It would take time and plenty of lives, but it could have worked.

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  As it turned out, they were uninterested in needlessly wasting their numbers this time.

  The slingers retreated first. As soon as the archers stopped their advance and got in position to unleash their own volley, the goblins turned and hurried back. Three thousand projectiles tried to follow, but as they were already working at the very edge of their effective range, the results were minimal.

  Most ended up hitting shields. The spearmen had suffered more casualties from the explosions, but they reacted just as quickly. In perfect unison, the goblins turned around and jogged up the soft incline. Just as the arrows took their flight, unseen observers hidden somewhere in the forest blew into signal horns. Ten thousand creatures quickly reversed and took cover behind the massive boards.

  A few unlucky souls perished, but the vast majority came out unscathed. Before the humans could realize what was going on, the spearmen stood back up and continued the retreat in good order.

  Kadmos, frustrated by this cowardly maneuver, unleashed a second barrage of spells. Explosions ripped through the back rows of the goblin formation. They didn’t even try to defend this time, but as the distance between the groups grew, the attacks would only get less efficient.

  “What the hell do we do?” Gregory cursed, as he stared at the scene in frustration, “do we charge them? We’re faster. We can reach them!”

  “No,” Varre shook his head, “they’re trying to get us to chase them. This is a trap.”

  “We don’t know what they’ve prepared for us,” Jan agreed, “if we let the archers, knights, and the mages get all separated, we’ll be vulnerable to counterattacks.”

  “We must remain calm,” the king decided, “we’ll advance slowly. If they want to give us this open field that badly, we’ll take it.”

  Fortunately the archmage had the tactical acumen to stop and wait for further orders before doing anything rash. Soon, he noticed the signal coming from the royal entourage.

  A group of heralds played a short tune on their trumpets, while one of the flag carriers raised up his banner. A blue circle on a white field proudly waved in the wind. The order for a leisurely advance.

  Kadmos, or more likely one of the knights assigned to his group, correctly deciphered the message. They were to pursue the goblins, but not blindly charge into them at all costs. Varre would have to carefully control the movements of the forward troops, as he tried to predict whatever the goblins had prepared next.

  By the time the humans got to moving, the spearmen were fully out of effective attack range. They slowed down their jog and continued to walk up the soft incline at a comfortable pace. The slingers marched further ahead, carefully keeping a safe distance away from their foes.

  The mages were now past the ruins of Northport and squarely on the other side of the valley. The infantry followed behind, ready to react in case anything happened. No matter what, the fragile wizards and archers had a safe place to hide just within reach.

  “We need to be careful,” Jan grimaced as he stared at the scene, “our lines are stretching.”

  Most of the Logres’ troops were still waiting. They rested in the forest on their side of the valley. There was no point in deploying everyone forward before the real enemy force had revealed itself. For now, both armies tried to obscure their real numbers and maneuver with smaller groups. Only three thousand levies and two thousand halberdiers had revealed themselves, as they trailed behind the mages and archers.

  “Our men couldn’t scout the forest on their side,” Gregory pointed out, “the goblins will try and attack us through there as we get stretched out. I just know it.”

  “Then what do you suggest?” Varre asked, “do we send another group of infantry to follow the first one?”

  The king didn’t like this plan, even if he proposed it. Launching separate waves of men at the enemy was a tactic done by zombies, or mindless enemies in tower defense games of his old world, not a smart way to achieve victory. Yet if this is what it took to support the forward units…

  Fortunately Jan had similar reservations. “No. Stretch the next units into columns. If wolf riders charge at us from the woods, our own levies can hold them back.”

  As the reinforcements followed the vanguard, the formation of the army began to morph. It now resembled a reverse U-shape, with the halberdiers as the horizontal ridge. The longer vertical sides of the figure marched a good distance away from the woods on both the East and West sides of the valley.

  As long as the troops remained on the open fields, they had good visibility and held the advantage. In a straight up brawl, Varre’s side should come out ahead. As long as his soldiers left enough empty space between their lines and the dense forest, they’d have the time to react and repel any assault.

  And so, the U-shape continued to move forward, drawing and extruding the sides of the letter onto the farmlands, as they marched after the retreating goblins.

  “What do we do once they reach the tree line?” Varre squinted his eyes, trying to seek through the dense foliage, “do we follow them there?”

  Jan nervously twirled his mustache. “We still have no idea what they’ve planned. Why did they set up here, only to give up the field without a fight? We’ll need to be careful.”

  “Maybe we could move up,” Gregory suggested, “once we control the entire valley, we could move all of our men into the center. Then send out scouts through the flanks to make sure the forest is clear.”

  “And the wolf riders?” the king reminded him.

  “That was before the battle,” the count chuckled, “we were trying to avoid combat. Now, there’s nothing stopping us from taking a thousand riders and punching through.”

  But before they could make good on this plan, the goblins decided to spring their own trap. As the commanders began to make the preparations for the next stage of their advance, a scout brought in a troubling report.

  “Your majesty,” he yelled out as his horse pulled into a stop, “the enemy! They’re advancing from the Northwest!”

  “Finally,” Gregory rubbed his hands, “how many? When will they get here?”

  “I-I’m not sure sir,” the scout admitted, “they’re about four miles West from here.”

  “What?” the count asked, dumbfounded, “four miles? Are you sure?”

  Jan however was already unfurling a map of the duchy. This area was lost before it could be properly investigated, so the sketch was outdated. Still, he carefully listened to the horseman’s report and tried to mark out the spots where the enemy was seen.

  “They’re spread out,” the duke grumbled, “but if this is the direction they’re heading, I’d say they’re trying to cut us off. Maybe circle back and hit us from behind.”

  “So that’s their plan,” Varre quietly hummed to himself, “draw us into the valley, keep us focused on the battle here, and then attack from another direction once we’re committed and spread out. When will they get here?”

  Gregory carefully examined the map for himself. “Four miles… plus the time our men needed to get back here… around an hour. Maybe two. Depending on how far they want to get behind us.”

  The king nodded. “And how many are coming?”

  Jan frowned and turned to the scout. “Did you get a good look at them?”

  “I’m sorry sir,” the nervous man admitted, “there were hundreds at least, but it’s hard to count them through the trees. The wolf riders chased us off before we could get too close. Then I rushed here as fast as I could.”

  “I thought as much,” the duke replied, “if we’re lucky, it could be a few separate hordes of a few hundred or couple thousand each. But based on the width of this advance, it could be as many as forty thousand.”

  “That’s double what they’ve assembled here,” Varre frowned, “we can’t let them get here. We have to send someone out to intercept them.”