The Chronicles: Notomol Ch. 01

Dubek must have believed that he'd made his point. He grunted, and turned to go. As I watched him, I also saw something, off in the distance.

- "What is that?"

- "What is what?" said Koymil.

I pointed at the river. "Is that...?"

- "The ferry." said Notomol.

He was right. It was dark, and the light rain didn't help, but now that he'd said it, I could definitely make out the shape of the ferry boat.

- "Why on earth would they be crossing at this time of night?" said Heras Koymil. "And in the pouring rain? That makes no sense."

- "No." said Notomol. "It doesn't." He took Koymil by the arm. "Run. Run to the camp. Tell Captain Tumay that the Izumyrians are coming. They're on the ferry."

- "But... how do you know they're soldiers? It could be just merchants!"

- "How many Izumyrian merchants have come across in the past two weeks? And why would they come now? In the dark - in the pouring rain?"

- "He's right." said Dubek.

- "So run, Koymil. Back to camp. Tell Tumay."

- "Why don't you send the kid, here?" Koymil pointed at me.

- "He has a bow. You don't. Run, Koymil. Tell Tumay and the others."

- "But - hold on! Who are you, giving me orders?" Heras Koymil drew himself up to his full height, and then looked to his friend. "Who does this yokel think he is?"

Dubek snarled at him. "Shut up! Just do what he says. Run, Koymil. Run!"

Koymil hesitated, but then turned and sprinted away.

- "What now?" said Dubek. A few moments ago, he'd been trying to intimidate Notomol - and now he wanted his suggestions.

- "We have to get these women out of here." said my partner.

- "Right."

Dubek strode back into the inn.

- "Help him, Kolasovets."

I followed the big townsman back into the inn.

"Ladies!" he called out. "The Izumyrians are coming. If you don't want to be robbed, raped and possibly killed, then I suggest that you grab something valuable, and get out of here. Now! You have 'till the count of 50. Grab something and go!"             

Dubek turned to me. "There are two mules in the back shed - and a little cart. Do we have time?"

I didn't know the first thing about harnessing mules, but Dubek did. He barked orders, and I tried to help without getting in his way. The innkeeper's wife, fortunately, took us seriously; she, her daughter, and daughter-in-law collected an armful of clothing, a leather bag, and a small chest. I helped them carry it out the back door while Dubek finished harnessing the mules.

- "Go." he said. "Keep going until you're well away from here."

- "When can we come back?" asked one of the younger girls.

- "You can't. Get away from here."

The moment they were on their way, Dubek and I sprinted back to the front door of the inn, where Notomol was still watching the dock. It took a moment for my eyes to become re-accustomed to the darkness. The rain started to pick up again.

- "How many men on foot can fit aboard?" said Notomol. "And what if they were heavily armed? Twenty-five? Thirty?"

- "Sounds about right." said Dubek.

I'd seen the ferry boat before, in daylight. It could carry a full size wagon, and a team of horses, or 8 horses and their riders.

It took half an hour to cross the river. Roughly an hour, then, before the ferry returned with more Izumyrians.

- "By dawn, they could have... 200 men ashore? In a full day... 400 more?" said Notomol.

- "The Ban of Adarion would need at least three days to gather his druzhina." said Dubek. "He won't even know of this landing until tomorrow, at the earliest.

No. He couldn't possibly respond in time. I didn't understand how Notomol and Dubek could calculate these numbers so swiftly.

"They'll want to bring over their heavy horses." said Dubek. "Hundreds of them. That could take them weeks."

- "They aren't relying on this ferry alone. They have other boats. Barges, most likely. They must have been already built, on the Izumyrian side - but farther back, out of sight. Brought down to the riverbank under cover of darkness."

That was it; now I understood why we'd seen so many Izumyrian riders on the far side, over the past weeks. They were choosing the best sites to put their boats in the river.

Dubek swore. "They could have a thousand men across before the Ban of Adarion even knows about it. Their entire army'll be on our side before Duke Richwin can summon a force to oppose them."

The ferry reached the dock. Men poured ashore. I glimpsed the outline of helmets, of shields and spears. I pulled my bowstring out from under my clothes, and strung my bow.

Even as we watched, the ferry began to draw away from the dock, no doubt with fresh arms pulling on the sweeps.

- "Twenty? Thirty?" said Dubek. Then he wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve. "Well - let's deal with what we have here first. You two take a dozen, an' leave the rest to me."

He was either a complete madman, or just talking like one, to pick up our spirits.

- "There are thirty of them, Dubek." said Notomol.

- "But they can only come through the door one at a time." He hefted his axe, and grinned.

- "Until they come through the windows - and the back door."

Dubek scowled. "We could still take a few with us."

- "Or we could take a few, and then leave." said Notomol. He explained what he was thinking.

- "That might be better." agreed Dubek.

We left the inn's front door open.

Notomol was guessing that the Izumyrians were more intent on securing the ferry dock - their landing site - than they were in the inn, at this point. Still, they could see light inside the building.

The invaders kept the majority of their men by the dock, but a party left the riverbank, and began to climb the gentle slope up to the inn.

I counted eleven of them. I counted again, just to make sure. Despite Dubek's talk, I knew that the three of us couldn't do much against that many professional soldiers.

From several yards inside the door, concealed by the darkness, I chose my target... and the moment Notomol fired, I loosed an arrow. It was a good shot; I knew it the moment the shaft left my bow. The leading soldier staggered backwards, and fell heavily. The man to the right of him shrieked, and dropped to his knees. I'd struck him in the neck, or the face.

The Izumyrians called out to him. Two bent over to help him. Most were probably not aware, yet, that he'd been struck by an arrow. All this I saw as I nocked another shaft.

Notomol's second shot took one of them full in the back. My second arrow, unfortunately, struck a shield, as one of the soldiers protected his stricken comrades.

Now they understood. Three more of them raised their shields, and stepped forward, to provide cover for their friends.

- "Wait." said Notomol.

He was right. There was no use wasting arrows on a wall of shields.

The Izumyrians began to retreat, dragging their fallen companions along with them. I couldn't tell if the men we'd hit were dead, or merely wounded.

Notomol slammed the door shut, and barred it.

- "What are you doing?" said Dubek.

- "They'll be back." said Notomol.

- "'Course they will - then you could fire more arrows."

- "They'll be more cautious. Shields up. And what if they send men around back?"

- "Shit. Good point."

We made our way to the back of the inn. Dubek tipped over a pair of the oil lamps he'd left alight. Then he dropped the lit wick into the puddle of oil. The flames began to spread immediately. Dubek grinned at me.

I was about to protest, but reconsidered. If, by some miracle, we were able to repulse the invaders, the inn could be rebuilt. But it made perfect sense to distract them now, and deny them the shelter of the inn (and its supplies) in the coming days.

We left the building, and trotted up the slope. Even in the dark, we had no trouble locating the foot of the path which led to the Guardsmen's camp.

- "Now what?" demanded Dubek.

- "Watch. And wait for the others." said Notomol.

- "I hate waiting."

Some time later - it might have been only a few minutes - we could see light inside the inn. It wasn't the Izumyrians, lighting lamps; it was Dubek's fire. Shortly after that, we saw flames. Dubek bared his teeth; I wasn't sure if that was a smile, or a snarl.

Imre & Gadas found us at the foot of the path. They'd been on watch a few hundred yards upriver. Neither had seen the ferry boat land, but they'd heard shouts. As they came to investigate, they saw the first signs of a fire in the inn, and, outlined by the light, armed men - far too many to be guardsmen. They'd had the sense to come around the back of the inn. Dubek started to tell them what had happened.

Moments later, more than twenty men came clattering down the path: Guardsmen, led by Captain Tumay and our instructors.

- "What's going on?" he demanded. Then he saw us. "Notomol - speak up!"

- "Izumyrians came across on the ferry. Thirty of them. We sent Heras Koymil to warn you. Dubek and Kolasovets helped the innkeeper's women-folk to get away. We shot three with our bows. We set the inn on fire and came here."

- "You set the inn on fire?"

- "To deny it to the enemy. Dubek's idea. I agreed."

- "I don't see the ferry."

- "Gone back to the Izumyrian side."

- "So there are only a few Izumyrians here?"

- "With respect, Captain..." Notomol began to explain his calculations - about the number of soldiers they could get across, and the likelihood that were more barges, upriver.

I hoped that Tumay could see it. Attacking 30 Izumyrians here would make no difference in the grand scheme of things. In less than half an hour, another 30 were going to land.

The sensible thing to do was to retreat. We could use ponies to scout the river, and confirm that there were other barges carrying Izumyrians across the river. Tumay could preserve the Guardsmen, so that we could join the Ban of Adarion or the Duke, and fight another day.

I, for one, would appreciate the opportunity to meet the invaders on a clear day, with a dry bowstring.

Or, if Captain Tumay was especially daring, we could wait until the ferry returned. If we launched some sort of diversionary attack, at exactly the right moment, it might be possible to sneak a few men aboard the ferry, and somehow disable or even hole it. I was thinking of someone like Dubek, with an axe in his hands. Guardsmen would die - probably quite a few of us. But denying the enemy the use of the ferry could slow down the invasion.

Captain Tumay chose neither of those options. He didn't ask for our opinions, or anyone else's, for that matter.

- "Gather round!" he called. "Guardsmen - here is what we will do: we will attack, and cleanse our sacred soil of these invaders. We will catch this first group by surprise, and eliminate them."

"Then we will assume their identities, so that when the ferry returns, we can ambush the second group, and take them unawares. Once we've put them to the sword, we will seize the ferry, and destroy it."

"Your Duke will know how to reward his loyal servants. I predict that fortunes will be made this day. Names will be earned, and brilliant prizes will be won."

No, Tumay's little speech didn't fire me up. If anything, my spirits sank. He expected a bunch of 18 year-olds to wipe out 30 professional soldiers - and then to turn around and wipe out another thirty?

Had he not been watching our training? Had he forgotten that Motekin and I were hardly the stuff of heroes? Nor were Terasol Nelkan or Heras Koymil, when it came down to it. From what I'd seen, there were maybe ten Guardsmen who could be relied on in a fight.

And what was this talk of reward? Perhaps I was taking Motekin too seriously, but my own experience seemed to suggest that he was right: the Hospodars, the Bans, the Duke himself... none of them cared a rat's ass about any of us.

I probably should have slipped away in the darkness. The rain had picked up again. By the time anyone had noticed my absence, I could have been long gone.

But I didn't. It wouldn't have felt right, to abandon Notomol.

That one decision shaped my fate.

Tumay outlined his plan. It was fairly simple. Rush in, and kill them all.

I had unstrung my bow; the first string was thoroughly soaked, and completely useless. My second string, under my clothes, was already wet. It might be good for three or four shots.

Notomol tapped me on the arm. "Stick close to me, will you?"

Somehow, Motekin was already beside us.

- "It's all good." he said. "Tumay put Heras Koymil and another fellow on ponies, and sent them to warn the Duke. And two others to tell the Ban of Adarion."

- "That's good." said Notomol.

I wished that I could share his calm, and his confidence.

Tumay's plan was infantile. Three trained warriors, and thirty-six semi-trained, semi-adolescent Guardsmen, against 30 to 35 professional soldiers. There would be no surprise; We'd shot three of them, and the inn was on fire.

Then a thought struck me: these Izumyrians wouldn't just be professionals - they'd be the very best. Who else would you send to lead your invasion? These men would be the cream of their army, the elite.

Even if we overcame them, the ferry would return would return with 30 fresh men - who would see the inn on fire. And we were to take them unawares?

I waited until the last possible moment to re-string my bow.

Captain Tumay led the charge - I have to give him the credit for that. The rain was pelting down, now, and everyone was relying on the light from the burning inn.

The Izumyrians backed away, and formed a line close to the dock. I could see only twenty-five or so of them. They formed a curved line, shields up.

And then everything went to shit.

I fired an arrow, aiming for the man on the end of their line. I missed. Notomol was beside me. He seemed to have missed as well.

My second shot was much better. The man I hit was holding his shield far too low. My arrow struck him in the chest, or the neck. He twisted sideways, and I lost him from sight.

Captain Tumay led the charge, but I saw no sign that he was able to overrun the Izumyrians, or even to pierce their line.

I did see Terasol Nelkan stagger backwards, his hand practically severed at the wrist. An enemy soldier stepped forward, and hacked downwards as Nelkan fell.

I saw Imre suddenly stop, and drop his sword, to clutch at the spear embedded in his stomach. My third arrow made no impression - the bow string was already too wet.

Our assault on their line was failing. I wondered - for a moment - if I could have any impact with my long knife. Would it make the slightest difference if I could take an Izumyrian with me before I died?

That was when I heard Dubek roar, and launch himself at the very centre of the Izumyrian line. He held his axe overhead, prepared to strike, but it seemed to me that he was trying to simply bull rush the invaders into the river.

The man he was aiming at flinched, or gave ground, and Dubek drove him back. But as the Izumyrian fell, Dubek tripped over him... and plunged into the river. With the current so strong, he was almost immediately swept away.

At that moment, I saw another one of ours stumble backwards. Motekin.

An Izumyrian spear struck him in the upper thigh, or on the hip, and he fell. The heavy shield he carried landed on top of him.

I stood there, frozen.

Notomol simply reacted. Dropping his bow, he lunged forward, drawing his long knife. The Izumyrian soldier was concentrating on completing the job. He was completely unaware of Notomol, until it was too late. My partner leapt towards him, and buried his long knife just under the man's chin.

There was fighting all around them, struggling men, shield to shield, stabbing and hacking at each other. Motekin's assailant was finished. Notomol hunched down, and stepped back. He had grasped Motekin by the back of his shirt, and pulled him away.

Sometimes, in the midst of a battle, the fighters involved have a feeling - a sense, of how things are going to go. Dubek was in the river, Tumay was nowhere to be seen... I knew that we were done.

Notomol must have reached the same conclusion. He dragged Motekin out of the melee, and pulled him to safety. I collected my partner's bow, and covered their retreat - though what I would have done if an Izumyrian had attacked us, I have no idea.

The enemy didn't pursue us. It was dark, and their prime concern was to protect the landing place.

That was pretty much the end of the battle at the ferry dock, as far as we were concerned.

*****