Gregory was up in arms. “We have to turn Duke Fletcher around! They have to deal with this new attack!”

  “And what if this the distraction?” Jan glared at him, “if we pull them back, then the western attack will be free to do as they please. How will that help?”

  “No! Look at the order these assaults happened in,” the count insisted, “the first one is always the decoy, trust me. The second one is the real one.”

  “Are you seriously about the stake the lives of our entire army on a little hunch?” the duke roared, “don’t be ridiculous!”

  “Both of you, calm down!” Vare ordered, “and what if they’re both real, huh? We still don’t know how many forces they’ve manage to gather here.”

  “And what if they’re both fake?” Gregory shot back, before a stern look from the monarch silenced him.

  “We need to react somehow. To both,” the king decided, “but yes, I am aware that this could all be a massive ruse meant to draw our forces away.”

  “Then what do you suggest?” Jan asked.

  “We need to remain flexible,” Varre replied, “don’t get bogged down in fighting until we know exactly what the hell is going on here.”

  “The troops in the valley are already standing still, your majesty,” the count said, a little cowed by the earlier exchange.

  “Good. Keep them there. Get them into a defensive formation and have them hold their positions,” the king gestured out towards the hill, “same for Fletcher. Have him march against the enemy, but not engage unless he absolutely has to. If it turns out that this is a decoy, he needs to be ready to send some reinforcements back here.”

  “And why not have him send some forces back right now, your majesty?” Gregory asked, “he’s only supposed to stall the goblins.”

  “Because if it turns out that they are trying to cut off our retreat, we must hold them back,” Varre explained, “and if there really is forty thousand of them, he’ll need ever man he can get.”

  “Fine,” Jan crossed his arms, “what do we do about the new attack from the East?”

  The king brought a hand to his chin. “Do you think the same plan will work again? Dispatching Count Helmut and his eastern prong?”

  “If there really are sixty thousand of them as we are assuming, then no,” the duke replied bluntly, “ten thousand men, even if many of them are armored knights, will not win against such numbers. At least I wouldn’t stake my life on it.”

  Varre looked out onto the battlefield. Combined with his elven archers, he brought thirty five thousand to bear against the enemy. A thousand elven scouts, supported by another few hundred light cavalry patrolled the forest around the area, but they needed to stay there if he wanted to discover any more surprises. Besides, both Fletcher and Helmut needed their flow of information to make their decisions and plan their movements.

  Ten thousand had already left to deal with the Western attack. Another nine were deployed onto the valley, mostly as archers, or the infantry standing in the defensive U-shape formation to protect them. If Helmut was to take another ten to handle the new threat, it would leave less than seven thousand here as reserves, almost half of them mounted.

  “There’s not much we can spare to help him,” Varre said after doing some quick estimations in his head, “we need some reserves left here, in case another attack comes from the forest.”

  “Should we pull some of our forces back from the valley?” Greogry asked, “we could redeploy them elsewhere.”

  “No,” the king shook his head, “the goblins don’t know how many troops we’ve brought either. Let’s not tell them that we’re struggling for manpower, lest they realize their tactics are having an effect.”

  “I don’t like seeing so many of our men bogged down without even fighting, but I suppose they’re keeping us safe for now,” Jan replied, “I don’t like the idea of retreating them either.”

  “What if we reinforce Helmut with cavalry?” Varre suggested, “on paper, they should be better than infantry, so they’ll make up some of the missing numbers.”

  “Knights work best in wide open plains like this one, your majesty,” the count said, with a saddened expression, “they can’t charge as well through dense forests.”

  “No, but they can maneuver quickly and can pick off many goblins by themselves,” the duke argued, “I could see it working. But I agree that we need to keep some of the cavalry here.”

  “As far as I can tell, we have over two and a half thousand light riders and just over a thousand knights left in our reserves,” Varre said and waited for confirmation from the others. Then he continued, “we can dispatch a thousand of the light cavalry and five hundred heavies to support Helmut. Will that make up the difference?”

  “They won’t kill twenty thousand extra goblins by themselves,” Jan shook his head.

  “Maybe in the open field, but not the forest, your majesty,” Gregory agreed.

  “No, but they’ll be able to harass the enemy. Helmut will have to be smart about this. Retreat and keep the enemy discouraged. Skirmish with their people from a distance. Stall them and only accept a battle if he has to, same as Fletcher. If it turns out that he can’t stop them and they’re about to cut off our retreat, then we will send more.”

  “I suppose that’s the best we can do,” the duke said, “let us pray for his success.”

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  Count Helmut wasn’t happy about being forced to leave his monarch’s side, but he understood the assignment. In a way, protecting his liege and leading his own formation was even more glorious than charging alongside the king into battle. At least history books would record a lengthier section about him. He might even get a spot on a tapestry or two, his visage hanging in the throne room for centuries to come.

  He gathered his forces and prepared to march out. With the new reinforcements over half of them were mounted. They made for a powerful army, even if his actual numbers weren’t that much higher than Fletcher’s. The riders would bear the brunt of the fighting, trying to wear the enemy down before the final confrontation with the levies. Assuming it even happened.

  If it turned out that this was all a ruse in the end, the cavalry would be able to move quickly and rejoin the battle. Secretly, Helmut wished that this wouldn’t happen. A valiant warrior making his desperate last stand protect his monarch makes for a far better legend. Especially if he managed to defeat the goblins when outnumbered six to one.

  The only question left was whether it was advantageous to win by himself, bearing heavy casualties, or to be rescued by reinforcements. If Varre himself arrived to save the beleaguered troops, it would make for a great scene on a grand painting. But would it strip some of the noble’s glory away? He couldn’t decide.

  Struggling with his own thoughts, he waited for the troops to gather. Time was of the essence, so they marched off into the woods, disappearing behind the dense foliage. Just as Fletcher, they travelled in a wide formation with combat readiness being the priority on everyone’s minds.

  Packs of scouts and messengers continuously travelled back and forth, patrolling every inch of the woods. Helmut’s men were far from alone. Still, every step drove them further away from their allies. If something went wrong, each additional second of distance would result in more deaths. A rather sobering thought for the honor obsessed man.

  Once the troops were gone, Varre turned his gaze back to the valley. His own reserves looked pitiful in comparison to the forces already sent out, but he was hesitant to draw any men back.

  The goblins must still have had some sort of plan up their sleeves. The twenty thousand men on the opposite end of the valley were obviously a distraction, but he couldn’t quite get a handle on what they were distracting from exactly.

  If both the Eastern and Western attacks were the main goal, they wouldn’t win on their own. They could surround his forces and attack from the rear, but in practice this would be little different from a concentrated attack from the North.

  Ultimately, the real threat would still come from a single direction. What’s more, now that his scouts were well aware of the enemy movements, this was no longer a surprise. His troops would be ready for combat. If they so wished, they could move down into the valley where they’d have the advantage, and fight on the open ground.

  The only way these side actions benefited the goblins were if they managed to attack units that were bogged down with fighting. Something else needed to attack the valley for this plan to work. Twenty thousand goblins wouldn’t be enough.

  That left only two avenues. Either the unexplored forest beyond hid more soldiers that were still waiting for the right time, or the shaman really was planning to teleport straight into the ruins of Northport.

  Right now, the infantry created a U-shaped cordon guarding the center of the valley. If some goblins managed to appear in the center of it, bypassing all defenses, they’d strike right at the delicate core of the army, shredding through the archers and mages.

  Elvira was hard at work trying to resolve that mystery. While the commanders deliberated over the goblins’ plan, she raced down into the valley and joined Kadmos and his people. Her assistants quickly distributed some of the magical equipment among their peers and a small team rode out towards the ruins.

  The enemy could attack at any time, so most of the wizards stayed behind to hold the line. Only the most experienced ones, who knew how to utilize the tools effectively, joined the party. They’d do a quick, but thorough check, protected by a couple dozen knights in case the teleportation occurred while they were there.

  From his position, Varre watched as the wizards rode through the empty streets. The village was tiny, but with each house having a small vegetable garden, it was spaced out. It took some time to investigate.

  He couldn’t recognize the tools from a distance, but he could see as the sorcerers looked at the area through different devices, trying to spot any residuals of magical aura. Kadmos kept nervously glancing at the trees, unwilling to stay too long from the battlefield. At the same time, he was worried about a horde of goblins materializing in front of him at any moment. Even if it seemed theoretically impossible, the shaman’s disappearance was proof that human knowledge of magical mysteries was imperfect.

  The wizards were satisfied with their check. They didn’t want to stay in the ruins for long, so they left after a couple of minutes. They rushed back to their positions, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of goblins standing still and watching from a safe distance.

  Elvira raced back alone, leaving her two assistants to pack up the equipment. She arrived after a few more minutes, passing her tired horse off to one of the servants.

  “There’s nothing,” she announced, trying to catch her breath, “no residuals. No one had ever cast any spells in there.”

  “Never ever?” Varre raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, not in years. And since this was wilderness. In the past. Probably never,” the Court Mage replied, taking a swig from her waterskin and wiping her face with her sleeve.

  “I don’t want to be paranoid, but is there any chance such a spell was cast in the past?” the king asked, “decades, or even centuries ago? Before humans ever settled out here?”

  “Maybe,” she shrugged, “but not teleportation. The caster would need to be very familiar with the location,” noticing that he was about to suggest another option, she quickly added, “even if the shaman was ancient, the spell would need to remain active for it to work. It would give off strong aura and readings. Nothing like that was present there. It’s clean.”

  Varre accepted the explanation with a nod and turned away to check the situation on the battlefield. The goblins were still staying put.

  Elvira sighed. “You know, it’s hard to look at all that destruction. It’s the first time I’ve gotten this close to it.”

  “What about the other ruins we’ve passed through?” the king asked.

  She smiled sadly. “I always looked away. So many lives have been lost needlessly. So many innocent civilians gone.”

  “I know,” Varre replied, “that’s what we’re here to prevent. We have to stop the goblins before they cause any more damage.”

  “I’m glad I can be here to help. You know it’s funny,” she blew air out of her nose, “people assume that wizards are heartless. ‘You kill dozens with a single spell, what the hell do you care about saving lives?’ But it’s different. It’s war out there. Even the peasants who are drafted are ready to kill me. I’m fighting for my own life, just as they are. But this… it’s slaughtering innocent civilians. Children, who had nothing to do with war.”

  “We’ll save them. As many as we can,” the king said, “we know that they’re captives, so they must have reason for it. They wouldn’t do that just to kill them later.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Elvira sighed.

  Jan interrupted their exchange. “Look there, it’s starting.”

  Varre followed the commander’s pointing finger at the trees across the valley. The twenty thousand goblins tightened up their formation and started to march down the hill. They were joined by other, smaller groups appearing on their sides and heading down the slopes straight at the humans.

  “So this is their main attack?” the king wondered out loud, “let’s see just what they’ve prepared for us.”