Champion of the Gods
Copyright© 2025 by QM
Chapter 33
The splitting of the Orc horde meant that what little chance they had of prevailing against Xallant was non-existent. Not that those who chose to remain realised this, they were convinced the numbers they had would eventually enable them to take and destroy any but the most staunchly defended towns. So they headed deeper into Xallant, sealing their fate. Those who retreated, though mocked by those remaining as cowards, headed towards the bridge, remaining in numbers to fight off the increasing attacks by the horse archers. What they found, though, was the army of Lirrant holding the bridge and prepared to hold it against any odds. The far banks of the wide river were also fortified with earthworks defended by archers on foot.
The Orcs, despite their retreat, were not cowards, and they swiftly reasoned that the only way to escape was to ‘run the gauntlet,’ and their leading edge charged straight for the bridge, hoping that numbers would be enough to get them through. This rapidly turned into a massacre as the Lirranti were present in large numbers, and the resulting arrow storm soon had the bridge blocked with Orc and chelvak corpses. The Orcs, however, tried to cross the river en masse, using the chelvaks to swim across, though most fell and floated away downstream. Smaller bands managed to find places to cross, where the defenders could only take down some of them and escaped back onto the Orcish Plains to tell the tale of the disaster.
The day after, the Lirrant army crossed the bridge. It began its pursuit of the remaining horde. It was supplied by the various walled towns they passed, as well as receiving information from Elven defenders, who provided details on the locations of their scouts’ sightings of the Orcs. These small bands were mercilessly cut down by the Lirranti or occasionally by the patrols of the Xallant horse archers.
Nor were the leaders of the horde aware of the unfolding disaster behind them; they had finally reached a town whose walls were seemingly lower than the previous one and looked to be an easy target.
“I don’t think they realise just how long Xallant has been preparing for an invasion,” Darras observed to Captain Lerion of Jizzard as they watched the shambling approach of the horde.
“Or the arrangement with certain allies,” Lerion replied with a sharp smile. “Though it was the human introduction of horse archers that made victory possible.”
“Yes, until that, the plan was to hole up in the towns and hope the Orcs got bored before the food ran out,” Darras nodded.
“Usually worked,” Lerion agreed. “The Orcs ran out of food before the towns did.”
“Usually, yes,” Darras sighed, having learned from Erren of some of the disasters of the past and the lost kingdoms that fell to an Orc horde.
“I think they think this will be easier,” Lerion commented. “They are staying away from the walls due to my people killing anyone who does approach.”
“All to prevent them from realising that there’s an embankment in front of the wall and that the wall itself is far taller than it looks,” Darras chuckled.
“I’m told it was originally going to be a moat.”
“Really? Well, this works just as well,” Darras smiled.
“True.”
The Orcs spent the rest of the day hunting for wood to make scaling ladders, or were burning down various buildings and other infrastructure that comprised the lands farmed by Xallant. This was their standard modus operandi when raiding, as it prevented a savaged kingdom from easy pursuit. Darras already knew that Xallant would take years to rebuild its villages and farms, though Erren had assured him that she would bless their crops to assist in this effort.
“Let’s hope this is the last time,” Darras murmured.
“Aye,” Lerion agreed.
‘The Lirranti have defeated the retreating horde, ’ Erren informed Darras, who passed it on.
“Good news indeed,” Lerion nodded. “Now all we need to do is survive this.”
“There is that,” Darras chuckled.
The Orc assault began with a nighttime assault, as the Orcs had fairly decent night vision on a night when all three moons were visible. Darras assumed this was because the Orcs were unaware of the Elves and hoped to avoid the mass casualties they’d faced at the previous town.
The assault came to a grinding halt when the Orcs discovered the hidden ditch in front of the walls, and that they had to climb down into the dry moat and then up the actual town wall. The defenders were also roused by the screams of several Orcs who were pushed over into the dry moat by the press of the attack behind them. This forced a near-panicked retreat by the Orcs and no doubt some angry words were exchanged amongst the leaders at yet another failure.
“I had been told Orcs were good at siege warfare,” Darras commented to Lerion. “Only this is amateurish.”
“The tribal leaders are aware of how to do it, I’m told,” Lerion replied. “But that was in the days of not having a hostile enemy force still in the field facing them.”
“Wonder what they’ll do next, as they are running out of time,” Darras nodded.
“I doubt the forces arrayed against them would care to take them head-on,” Lerion mused. “They do, however, have them trapped in a sense, as I doubt they could advance further.”
In the Orc encampment, recriminations were rampant as the various leaders accused one another of cowardice. Nor were the words of the shamen carrying any weight, the Orcs now viewing their words as not of the god Saltak.
“We must leave now!” one of the leaders demanded. “Before they whittle away our horde!”
“Coward!” another accused. “This is a setback; we can overcome the ditch now that we know it is there.”
“And face another arrow storm?” came the rejoinder. “Scant good will it do us to take the town and not have the numbers to withdraw.”
“There are rumours the cowards who left were defeated at the river,” another Orc said.
“Well, they were cowards,” another sneered.
“True, but my scouts saw many of the riding archers, as they were pursued back to this camp,” the Orc replied. “We have been herded into a trap.”
“We are Orcs; we cannot be trapped, not by Humans!”
“Yet what have we gained?”
“Nothing,” the original speaker said into the silence. “And now the weak Humans begin their hunt of us.”
“Let them; they are as nothing to Orcs!”
“And how many of them have we killed?” an Orc asked. “Tens of them, that’s how many and few enough of them their warriors.”
“That is because the cowards hide behind stone walls,” an Orc snarled.
“Walls we cannot breach, nor can we forage safely for stored food without being attacked by these damnable archers.”
“Are you saying the visions of our Shaman were false?” one of the leaders asked ominously.
“I judge by results,” the reply was snarled back. “We are surrounded, divided and cannot take the town!”
“Coward!” the leader screamed, drawing his weapon in violation of the peace pact.
All the tensions that had been building since the first failures to conquer came boiling to the surface as blades flashed and screams and bellows of anger resounded first in the tent, then outside among the guards, and finally throughout the rest of the horde.
“It’s fallen apart,” Darras informed Lerion as they watched through their spyglasses the Orc camp descending into chaos.
“Indeed so, sir Darras,” Lerion agreed. “This was a totally mismanaged attempt at invasion as I could ever conceive.”
“I suspect their real leadership on the plains thought it a good idea to reduce the number of firebrands they had ... assuming they realised it would not work,” Darras replied.
“Possibly, though from what I know of Orcs, I doubt they thought losing to Humans a possibility,” Lerion grimly smiled as an orgy of violence exploded in the Orc encampment.
“Heh, true, for some of them at least.”
It was the following day that the town defenders spotted the banners of the Lirranti approaching the walls. Darras, Lerion and the mayor went out to meet them and find out what was happening, though Erren had kept Darras updated as the time passed.
“The camp is deserted,” the Lirranti commander confirmed after the niceties of introduction had been made. “Other than those still dying to whom all we can give is the mercy stroke.”
“Seems unlikely they all killed each other,” Lerion replied.
“We have scouts out, as do the Xallanti,” the commander nodded. “It looks like they have scattered and are attempting to make their way west.”
“Some might make it,” Darras replied thoughtfully. “But not many.”
“Not many at all,” the commander agreed. “It ends any Orc threat for a generation or so.”
“Possibly forever,” Darras nodded. “The world has a way to defeat them now, and they know it ... or soon will.”
“Wonder how they’ll cope?” the commander chuckled. “Not like they’ll go away.”
“They’ll adapt,” Darras shrugged. “Find a new way in the world, perhaps.”
“Probably, but that’s their problem,” the commander nodded. “The bodies can be burned or buried now, whatever the temples choose.”
“Our thanks, commander,” the mayor replied. “We’ll get straight on it before disease becomes an issue.”
“Aye, smart move,” the commander nodded before leaving to begin the pursuit.
It took three days to deal with the bodies; most were buried in fields for the future harvest as fertiliser. Of greater concern was the damage to the infrastructure, including the burning of mills and the destruction of irrigation works. In this, the towns had skilled craftsmen to make temporary repairs swiftly. Darras and the Elves helped with any physical labour, mostly clearing rubble as reports came back of the hunting down of the scattering Orcs. Still, after a week, Darras returned home along with the Elven armies, leaving Xallant to finish the cleanup and rebuild.
“Welcome back, my love,” Erren happily greeted her man.
“Good to be home,” Darras smiled before hugging and kissing Erren. “Didn’t do much other than observe, though.”
“You carried my word and authority to Jizzard and Rossaris,” Erren replied as they walked hand in hand to the bathing area. “Their armies allowed the forces of Xallant to take to the field.”
“True, I doubt the Orcs will ever dare attempt to invade the east again ... assuming they don’t have short memories,” Darras chuckled.
“Only the Wasnich clan is vaguely aware of the disaster, so far,” Erren replied. “Though the other border clans will soon become aware.”
“Not enough survivors returned?”
“Very few, Xallant and Lirrant, are not minded towards mercy.”
“I was impressed at how quickly temporary repairs were made,” Darras nodded.
“Xallant and the border realms learned from previous invasions, particularly that of Ismor, though that was aided and abetted by Lirrant for the most part.”
“Yes, I know the tale,” Darras sighed. “They still haven’t recovered from that.”
“The work the Dwarven Realm is carrying out has enabled them to export again,” Erren replied. “Further repairs to the irrigation works are ongoing, and in five years, Ismor will finally be back to where they were ... though far less arrogant.”
“And not as wealthy,” Darras added with a wry smile.
“True, Lirrant has most of that,” Erren agreed. “Though the agreements in place to put the Dwarven Realm as a first choice for trade will soon have Ismor on an even keel.”
“I take it Saltak is not best pleased with this mess?”