43. The Battle of Farrow Lake : Day Two
The fires caused by the phraxcannon raged along High Farrow for most of the night until, just before dawn, a heavy rain began to fall. When it cleared, a heavy mist enveloped the Eastern Woods and lay across the Farrow Lake like a tilderdown blanket.
Fennith and his webfoot companions had taken Alcestia on board the phraxmarine the night before and transported her, along with our worst casualties, to the stalactite forest in the Water Caverns. When he returned, he tried to put on a brave face, but his crest glowed a mournful blue as he reassured me that Alcestia was receiving the best care the white trogs could provide.
‘We must force ourselves to concentrate on the fight that lies ahead,’ said the Roost Marshal when I joined him in the trench just as dawn was breaking. ‘Take what is left of Alcestia’s troop and combine it with yours, Forden,’ he instructed, ‘and then set off round the lake to the north around the enemy’s flank, and hunt down those phraxcannon of theirs.’
‘They’ll be well defended,’ I cautioned.
The Roost Marshall nodded. ‘Do what you can, Forden, lad, and I’ll try to hold the line here for as long as I can. Fog or no fog, I fear they’ll launch a full-frontal assault before midday.’
Promising to do my utmost, I left the trench and gathered the prowlgrin cavalry in the woods to the north. My troop numbered twelve, Alcestia’s a mere six, and the travails of yesterday’s fight sat heavily upon us all. But we were determined not to give up. We would sell our lives dearly for the cause of Farrow Lake freedom.
‘It’s down to us, lads,’ I announced as our ragged formation took to the trees. ‘We can’t expect any help from elsewhere.’
As I spoke, the first deadly volleys from the phraxcannon started up and, to the south of us, we could hear the phraxshells landing in our positions.
By mid morning we’d scouted round the enemy’s flank and picked off a party of fourthlings carrying supplies back to their positons. It was a brief fight, my prowlgrins leaping over the treetops and firing down into the midst of the enemy, who threw down their weapons and fled to their camp.
Unfortunately, that meant that Felvis Yellowman’s forces were now alerted to our presence and, as we regrouped and pressed on, we were suddenly confronted by a hail of phraxmusket fire coming up from the forest floor.
Five of our brave troopers and their prowlgrin fell, before we were able to find safety in a tall ironwood stand deep in the Eastern Woods, behind the enemy lines. We sheltered here until mid afternoon, licking our wounds and preparing for what we knew would be our last attack. Our ammunition was all but gone, our prowlgrins exhausted, and the enemy was alerted and waiting for us. It was then that Twill, an old treegoblin from Alcestia’s troop and a veteran of the Hive Militia, had an idea.
‘Since we’re almost out of ammunition, Captain,’ he said to me, as the thirteen of us stood beside our prowlgrins on the massive branch of an ironwood pine, ‘why don’t we avail ourselves of nature’s natural destructiveness - namely the pine-cones all around us. If we take ‘em, one between two troopers, and set ‘em alight, we can bowl them down at the enemy as we charge. What d’ya say, Captain?’
I clapped the old tree goblin on the back. It was an inspired idea. The resin in the pine-cones would burn fiercely, and who knows what damage they might cause if they landed on a fully-loaded phraxcannon?
We set to work immediately, making makeshift slings to carry the massive pine-cones between pairs of prowlgrins. The troopers each broke switches from the branches and dipped them in the pine resin that oozed from the bark of the ironwood pine, making ready-made torches. Then we set off towards the thunderous sound of the phraxcannon.
An hour later, we found them in a clearing on Midridge, their muzzles pointed down at our positions in front of Farrow Lake. It only took a glance to tell me that the Roost Marshal and our militia had taken a terrible pounding. I signalled to my troopers to light their torches and then to charge the phraxcannon.
As we surged down from the treetops and bounded across the clearing, a phalanx of enemy infantry guarding the cannon turned their phraxmuskets on us and fired. In the hail of bullets, I saw four pairs of troopers go down, the pine-cones they carried thudding uselessly to the ground. That left two pairs, and me. In the hopes of distracting the enemy, I lit the torch I carried and urged Lemquinx to leap out in front, yelling at the top of my lungs as I did so.
Behind me, the two pairs of troopers lit their pine-cones and leaped high into the air. As they released their flaming missiles, the air around me buzzed with flying bullets, and I felt an excruciating pain in my side.
Moments later I was falling to earth, as a brilliant explosion enveloped the clearing. Then I hit the ground, and everything went black…