There was no time to delay. If the scout’s frantic report was accurate, yet another goblin army was on its way. It was heading through the forest, aiming right at the heart of the valley from the West. Right at the thin, stretched out line of levies.

  “They’ll crumple like a bedsheet,” Jan remarked with a crazed grin.

  “We still don’t know how many are coming,” Varre argued, though deep inside he understood the risk just as well as the senior general.

  “It’s time, your majesty,” Gregory said as he grabbed the top of his visor, “let’s ride out against them!” he yelled before dramatically shutting it over his face and picking up a lance from his squires.

  The king grit his teeth. “What about the infantry? The reinforcements that I just sent to the front? Should I redirect them?”

  “No. Without them, the goblins will break through the North,” the duke countered, “they’re needed.”

  The count was ready to throw himself into action, but the others still wanted to deliberate. He raised his visor again, with an exasperated gesture. “They’ll be here any minute, your majesty. We must act! Quickly!”

  Varre clicked his tongue. He didn’t like throwing the last of his reserves away without seeing the full picture, but he understood the nobleman’s point. “Alright. Get them ready. But wait for my signal!”

  Gregory could accept that. He nodded and rode away, yelling out orders to the knights slowly gearing up for combat.

  “What about the mages? And archers?” the king asked, waving in the direction of the units.

  The ranged troops stood a short distance behind the infantry engaged in combat and continued to fire at the slingers. The effect was minimal. The goblins had spread out to make hitting them harder and powerful spells less efficient. But there were no better targets for these soldiers either.

  In the thick of battle, preserving ammo or aura didn’t matter, at least not to the front line troops. The levies expected support. If they had turned around and noticed thousands of allies merely standing around, their morale would plummet. The peasants would feel like sacrificial lambs, giving up their lives to protect their betters. Which was true in a sense, but the men shouldn’t think about it midbattle.

  “Go for it,” Jan agreed, “might as well have them shoot at something useful for a change.”

  “And the other side of the stream?” Varre glanced in that direction, “do we sent them too?”

  The duke took a moment to consider the idea. “Nah. They won’t make it in time anyway. And if they leave, the East will be defenseless, if the goblins try the same thing again.”

  The king frowned. “You think they’re about to charge from there too?”

  Jan shrugged. “They pulled that off once already. Why not twice?”

  Varre nodded and called a couple of his men closer and explained the plan. The heralds immediately moved to deliver the command across the field. At first the trumpeters released a few short signals, to let the field officers know that urgent new orders were on the way. Once they were sure they had everyone’s attention they played a second tune, letting them know this was meant for the archers only.

  Then the flag carriers lifted up banners from the ground. Rather than rotating them to both sides of the stream, the men made sure to only point them directly North. The implication being that the eastern side could ignore this command.

  First, they displayed green over white, signifying west. Then a red triangle on a white field, meaning ‘attack.’ In theory a nonsensical order, that could be interpreted in many ways, but there were only so many flags and sound signals that the average officers could be expected to remember in the thick of battle. Sometimes they had to be creative.

  The archers could have been expected to draw melee weapons and engage in combat on the western side of the clash, supporting the levies until the reinforcements got there. They could have been expected to move through their allied ranks, go into the open field and flank the engaged goblins from the side. Or simply to focus their fire on the western side of the slinger formation.

  Just in case, a rider on horseback was dispatched on top of the long distance message. He carried a spoken, unambiguous order in case something was misunderstood.

  Since speed was of essence, even the communication mages were too slow and unreliable. With their greatly sped up training, they hadn’t learned how talk directly to each other. They’d have to first send word out to the senior experts in the capital, only for that message to be redeployed to the front lines. Kadmos hadn’t even bothered to bring any of them along, leaving each of the communicators back with the healers and the rest of the camp followers.

  Fortunately, it seemed that the word was understood correctly. The officers knew that an attack from the forest was a possibility, so they began to move in that direction, ready to lay down fire on whatever came out of the forest. The flag carriers raised up another banner, acknowledging the correct choice of the field officers.

  Even the archmage’s group joined the bowmen. Though there was no official signal meant for wizards, Kadmos correctly assumed that ‘archers’ included him too. The dispersed slingers were just as poor of a target for his subordinates, so they only left a few of the shield specialists behind before moving on. The knights traveling with them for protection followed along, ready to slow down the enemy as much as possible.

  “Ok, this is good,” Varre remarked, looking at the regiments of soldiers moving across the field, “I think the cavalry’s just about ready. Shall I send all of them out?”

  “Why rush?” Jan chuckled, “they’re on horses. They’re already fast. Wait to see what the enemy brings first.”

  “And the levies? Their lines are only two men deep,” the king argued, “the goblins will shred through them.”

  “Infantry’s too slow,” the duke protested, “our boys will make it. As for the wolf riders,” he mimicked a spear stabbing right into a target with his fingers, “they’re too soft to risk an open charge, even against levies. They’re unarmored. The peasants will hold for a little while, but that’s all our knights need to wipe them off the board. They’re not that stupid.”

  “I don’t like it, but I suppose the archers and mages will slow them down somewhat too. Plus those knights that are already there,” Varre sighed.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Jan turned to the other side of the stream and laughed. “There we go. That’s what I thought. Looks like we’re about to split our reserves in half again.”

  “What do you mean?” the king followed his gaze, before cursing loudly.

  A single scout came rushing out of the forest, just as the first had done mere minutes ago. His message was technically still unknown, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

  “At least we already know what to do,” the duke clapped the monarch on the back, “go on, send out the orders.”

  It only took a few minutes to get everyone moving. A new signal was sent out to the other group of archers, hopefully still an unknown enigma to the goblins. Just as before, the wizards on the other side joined them and the troops assembled in a better position to repel another assault.

  The cavalry split themselves in two equal parts. They moved as close as possible to the field, while still remaining obscured by the dense foliage. The enemy also had to deal with the fog of war, so it was best to keep the human reaction hidden for as long as possible.

  The knights heading East would have a slightly larger issue as they’d need to cross the bridges first, but with how wide they’ve been built, they should have enough time. They were intended to let thousands of infantry through. They could handle a few hundred horsemen.

  Before the rider coming from the East even made it with his message, another scout came riding out from the Western forest. Then another while the horseman delivered the report, as predicted. The goblin assault was getting closer and triggering further levels of patrols in the area.

  Finally, the enemy had arrived. Thousands of wolf riders moved out of the forest in a long line, closely followed by rows of spearmen. They were marching until now, conserving their speed. Once they reached the open valley and saw the humans up ahead, the riders threw themselves into combat.

  They were met by a powerful volley of magical explosions, closely followed by a rain of arrows. The animals were completely unarmored, with the goblins making do with leather clothes at best. They were torn apart, but the sheer mass of their numbers was enough to keep them going.

  Then a loud horn rang out as the human cavalry charged into combat, ready to flank the foolhardy attackers. Only three hundred knights were left by this point, followed by eight hundred light horsemen. Even when joined by the two hundred nobles already in the field, they were outnumbered. Still, they had the advantage in strength, equipment and experience.

  Another group of equal size moved out of the forest on the eastern side, heading towards the bridges. They’d be spotted, but at this point it was too late for the goblins to adjust their strategy.

  Varre turned his attention back to the west, watching as the new assault gave the wolf riders pause. They slowed down their own charge, only making themselves better targets for the archers, before scrambling to receive the cavalry.

  The two groups finally met two minutes later, with the humans cutting into the confused and disorganized goblins like a brick. Hundreds died in the initial clash. The wolves may have been large, but they were still nothing compared to a proper destrier. The horses trampled and crushed whatever managed to survive the deadly lances of the soldiers mounted atop.

  If the enemy had managed to prepare a solid line of defense, the sheer mass of their bodies could have been enough to slow down and eventually halt the cavalry’s advance. In a stationary duel, the beasts’ claws and jaws might have even been an advantage, but the ranged troops made sure this was impossible.

  Constant fire forced the goblins to spread out and anyone who grouped up only made for a better target. The whole field devolved into a chaotic mess as groups of riders now chased around each other, trying to outmaneuver their opponents. The humans were at a clear advantage though.

  The only problem were the spearmen. They continued marching forward, unopposed, decreasing the amount of space left for the mounted soldiers to prance around. Each second brought them closer. The ranged troops adjusted their aim, thinning their numbers wherever possible, but this would be the main threat once the wolves were mopped up.

  Another horn ringing out from the East signified the next stage of the goblins’ attack. The scene was much the same, only slightly delayed. First the goblin charge was intercepted by the cavalry, before devolving into a chaotic brawl. All while the spearmen acted as a timer, limiting the zone available for combat.

  The spearmen on the West were the first to finally reach the levies. Due to the constant barrage of spells, they weren’t able to charge properly and their attack lost a lost of the initial punch. Still, they had the clear advantage in numbers. The peasants were slowly retreating under the onslaught, trying to hold on for as long as possible.

  Most of the wolves were either killed or retreating North, so the cavalry focused on the new target. They focused on charging the engaged goblins, dealing heavy casualties in the initial clash. Then they quickly retreated before the enemy could retaliate, only to repeat the same process. It was dangerous, but each attempt could result in as many as five dead when done properly.

  The battle was now in full swing. It would take hard work, sacrifice, and plenty of lives, but Varre’s side could come out ahead. But something was still bothering him.

  Everything was done correctly. All of the enemy’s plans were foreseen. All of the human forces were now embroiled in combat along the entire full length of the frontline. There were no more directions for another surprise attack. Even if some more goblins came out of the forest, they could only reinforce the ongoing combat. But was this all that the enemy’s plans had accounted for?

  They had plenty of time to prepare for this battle and fight on their terms. Yet nothing here had been a surprise for Varre. Not really. Sure, they attacked from many different directions, but he had the resources to deal with it all. He just had to be careful. Even the battle of Papworth seemed more of a surprise for his men that this one.

  Ultimately, while his forces were split in many different groups, this was still a simple brawl, a test of strength to see which side came out ahead. He expected a little more out of this legendary enemy, who threatened civilizations. Would this scuffle decide the result of the entire war?

  A shout brought him out of his thoughts. “Your majesty! Movement! In Northport!”

  Varre quickly turned his gaze to look at the ruined village. He had to squint to notice what the herald had seen, but groups of goblins seemed to crawl out of the burnt down piles of logs and assembled in the streets.

  The men engaged in combat had no reason to look behind them. Even if they did, the collapsed shacks obscured much of the visuals. Only the royal entourage from their position up on the hill could see the enemy.

  “I thought you said they couldn’t teleport there!” Jan yelled, losing his composure at the sight.

  “I did! I swear! I have no idea how they got there!” Elvira plead, raising her hands in the air.

  “You rushed too much! You wizards were so eager to return to wasting aura on those damned slingers, that you missed whatever the hell those tools were looking for,” the duke gesticulated wildly, “should have checked every pile of rubble! Every single stone!”

  “Please, your majesty, you must believe me,” the Court Mage turned white as a sheet, “there was nothing there! I-it shouldn’t be possible! Isn’t possible!”

  “I believe you,” Varre grit his teeth, “they didn’t have to teleport. They dug holes. They had weeks to prepare for this. They hid underground and waited for this exact moment.”

  “I… I didn’t…” Elvira stammered, “we were only checking for magical residuals! As we’ve talked about your majesty. You know, like back in that cave!”

  “I don’t blame you,” the king sighed, “we were so preoccupied with that idea and so worried about their capabilities that’s all we were thinking about,” he shook his head in disbelief.

  By now, the goblins had assembled several thousand warriors from their tunnels beneath the rubble. No one knew how extensive the network was or whether any more surprises were hiding underground. The one thing that was clear though was their target. They were heading straight for the undefended wizards and archers, as they scrambled to receive this new threat.

  “What the hell do we do?” Jan yelled, “we have no more forces to respond with! We can tell the bowmen to retreat, but then they’ll just attack our levies and break through our lines! Damn it all!”

  “Well, we do have some forces,” Varre replied, glancing at the Royal Guard stationed around him, “I heard they’re the best in the kingdom, in fact.”

  The duke was about to go on another tirade, blaming Elvira for the oversight, but the suggestion gave him pause. He stood there slack jawed for a minute, before nodding and reaching for his helmet. “I will lead them. Your majesty, it’s been an honor.”

  “No. I know how this works by now,” the king smiled sadly, “a few must always be left behind to watch over me, and then a bodyguard here, there,” he waved his hand dismissively, “no. We need everyone we can get. Me included. Victory or death, eh friends?”