WOT Adv 63 - Battle of Arturo's Orchard

--- The Wheel Turns ---
You look at Maeslyn and she nods her head. "We will help," you inform the mayor. He gives you a relieved look and Maeslyn smiles grimly. "Maer, this will not be an easy task. That second camp had more than a dozen soldiers in it. Do you have a plan?"

Your mind races and you explain it to Maeslyn. She nods thoughtfully. "I like it." Then she addresses the mayor, "This man, Maer, is a formidable warrior who understands the ways of warfare, if it is in your agreement, I suggest that he shall be in command of the defense of the town."

The mayor looks at Hobbs who nods. Then the mayor's head bobs up and down quickly, eager to shelf the responsibility. "Of course, of course, we will help in whatever way we can. What do you have in mind?"

You gather the makeshift militia around you and quickly explain your plan. They all nod in agreement and scurry to perform their assigned tasks.

The rest of the early morning hours are spent in preparation for the coming confrontation. The Wheel of Time pauses for no man and oft time crushes those who are unprepared. And so, whether or ready or not, the dawn, with the passage of time also comes.

---

You are quietly talking with Hobbs in the middle of the street at your position just south of the east of the inn. You survey your defenses.

Eight archers are hidden along the road. Four are actually inside the top floor of the Three Crowns Inn facing south using the upper windows in the rooms for cover. And four more are hidden on the other side of the street, west of the Wisdom's home two atop trees and the others hiding in the bushes.

Hobbs convinced you to have them use the inn instead of trees for the north side of the street, pointing out the benefits of sturdy walls for cover.

The villagers are armed with short bows and boar spears. Not much of a threat against serious soldiers, but most have stout hearts.

You notice for the first time that Hobbs holds a large crossbow is his hands, and a hafted axe hangs from his back, a bundle of crossbow quarrels are slung around his shoulders.

"Where did you get all that?" you ask.

"Your companion, Thenlir," He says, nodding to the man who is deep in conversation with Maeslyn a few paces west of you along the road.

"Does he 'know' you took them?" you ask.

"Of course. Why?" Hobbs looks somewhat hurt.

"I just didn't expect that he would." you say lamely, picturing Thenlir's angry face at being asked to part with his weaponry.

"Well, I told him those were the weapons I was trained in when I was in the Domani milita many years ago. I think he realized it would be good to have someone familiar with weaponry at his side in all of this, especially with all these green villagers. Plus, from what folks tell about him, he doesn't much use his bow."

"I can vouch for that." you say with a grin. "He favors his axe."

You hear the pounding of hoofs on the road and your heart leaps. Are they here already?

"A scout approaches!" someone calls out.

You quickly descend the stair. A young man atop a wheezing horse yanks the beast to a halt. "They are coming!" he shouts excitedly. "Along this very same road!"

"From the northwest?" you question him.

"Yes."

"How many?"

"I counted at least a dozen, maybe a couple more. But I don't think there's much more than that."

"Good work," you nod. "Now, take your position with the spearmen."

He actually salutes at you, and then gallops to where the other spearmen are waiting in the alley ways to ring the horsemen should the come near the cart.

You look around you. In the center of the road stands the wagon full of weaponry and gear. Maeslyn and Keb are up front, driving the wagon, Thenlir, stands a top the cart, holding his white flag, his axe at his side. His sword is in a scabbard and a large wooden shield rests on his back. He looks very much the capable warrior. In front of the guard are two spearmen. With you and is a villager with a shortbow out and Hobbs with his crossbow.

All around the ground you see small holes where the villagers spent precious time attempting to convert the terrain to something less favorable to a calvary charge. You also see in various places in the dim light of the early morning, along the street, dummy warriors constructed from shocks of hay and wielding scythes and rakes.

You sigh, hoping things will work out as you planned. There just wasn't enough time to get things perfect. At least with the women and children out of the way, hidden in the cellar of the inn, they shouldn't come to any immediate harm. Maeslyn was right to suggest they be moved there. Knowing they were all in one place out of the way makes things easier and allows the men to concentrate on the task at hand.

In the predawn air, the silence is broken by the sound of horses approaching. Around the bend, in the darkness and due to the distance you can't make out much more than what the scout told you. Some dozen or more shadowy shapes atop horses have reigned in to a halt, presumably surveying the village. You can see a smattering of torches also lit among them.

You motion to Thenlir, and he nods in your direction and then holds up his white flag and calls out to the soldiers in a booming voice.

"Wuan! Earwin!" Thenlir calls, hopefully getting their attention. "We desire to speak with you and your band of men!"

You can hear someone barking out orders among the Taraboner soldiers.

"Do you see this cart?" Thenlir continues, pointing to the wagon he's standing on. "It is loaded with the equipment of dead soldiers who tried to take away what is rightfully ours; your men have attacked our lands, our people, carried off our husbands and wives, and spilt many, many drops of innocent blood as you have terrorized travelers, merchants, farmers, and now, simple townsfolk."

This actually rouses an invigorating shout among the militia members.

Thenlir continues his speech, borrowing a lot of lines you suggested for him.

"You can see that we are prepared for you, and you will not destroy our village without a fight. In fact, if you do attack, I can guarantee that at least half your men will not survive; in fact, we will do our best to slaughter to you a man, should you decide to press your attack; what a sad end for such brave and loyal men whose leader secretly takes his orders from the Dark One."

An answering shout calls back. "What are you suggesting? What vile lie is this?"

"It is no lie. You do not believe that your captain is a secret servant of the Dark One? If you do not believe that your captain follows the Dark One, then ask yourselves this, 'What does the good captain do when he ventures out into the woods alone at night from time to time?' 'Is he simply relieving himself in private, when you are equipped with latrines and slit trenches and fortifications?' And what of the Trollocs who were seen near your camp last night after your commander communed with a Halfman?"

Another shout from the early morning air. "What proof do you have of these claims?"

"Sir," another voice shouts to the first. "What is going on. Why do we parley with these rabble?"

"Surely you have scouts and men who can track, don't you?" Thenlir presses. "If not, you must at least know what a Trolloc looks like? Would you be able to recognize the overgrown hoofprints of the Dark One's warriors were you to see them, especially if we were to show you where to find them?"

"Bah! The captain has no dealings with these foul creatures! We have slain them on sight. And false tracks can be easily made to dissuade others from the light of truth. His orders are clear and full of purpose." Another voice shouts back angrily. Your heart quickens. Things don't seem to be going so well now.

"And what of your captain's orders?" Thenlir shouts back, getting angry himself. "When he gave you your orders last night, did he tell you where the rest of the soldiers were going? Would you be surprised to learn that he has new orders now, that send him to do the Dark One's bidding in Tanchico? Would you be surprised that all your efforts here have been for naught but to spread civil war and antipathy between nations? I don't know what you think you were supposed to be doing, but the hand of the Dark One has been guiding your every move."

"Blasphemy!" you can hear the rage in the first voice as it shouts back. "How-- How dare you! We serve the light! Destroy them! Destroy them all! Cleanse their foul lies and rid this land of these Darkfriends!"

A terrible and fanatical shout goes up and a horn is blown signaling an end to all conversation. Then the thundering of hoofs pounds in your ears, and as the first rays of dawn lighten the morning, you can see the shapes of the armed Taraboners approaching. Armed with bow and sword, and riding atop powerful steeds, you wonder how many will survive the day.

Thenlir drops the white flag and picks up his axe. Then things begin in earnest.