The Prophesy: Book 3 - The Hammer of Atlantis

 

The ride to the next settlement was two days away at normal pace, but everyone now knew something was up with that. Everyone was looking for signs of abnormalities, and this bothered Ian in his efforts to speed things up. Finally, totally frustrated, he resorted to putting everyone to sleep! It was a column of zombie that ran headlong along the road. The only exceptions were the royals, that kept cleaning up the road of obstacles, be it fallen trees or enemies. By the second hour of the day's run, just as the sun came out from behind the clouds, the horses slowed down, and the army emerged from its forced sleep. The only indication there was something strange was the smoking horses, and the cavalrymen immediately noticed this. Even Viola did.

"I wonder what the royals did again?" commented Viola's friend, as he petted his horse to calm him down.

"I wish I knew. Something is up. I feel like I have been sitting here for hours, yet I only remember just leaving the settlement!"

«What do you mean, we just left, dead weight? We have been alternating between canter and runs for quite a while!»

Viola's looks told his friend that he had just talked to his horse and found out something, so he did the same, and got a similar answer, albeit spiced with a collection of swear words that made the man bleach!

«A Stallion to my taste! He doesn't let the vegetable on his back intimidate him!» commented Pokawonka.

«I wonder if he knows your true intentions, dear?» replied Viola.

«I am not worried about that. I'll spell him with my perfume of love and he will have only eyes for me!»

«So will all the other Stallions of the herd!»

«They better think twice if they want to keep their plums!»

«I think I need to inform you of one thing, Pokawonka. When the males were designed, the blood supply in the blood bank was woefully inadequate: when it collects down there, not enough is left to irrigate the brain properly, so they stop thinking or at best, get confused!»

«You should know, since you are one.»

«Do you plan to keep him after mating? If so, good luck! Come the next mare in heat and your prince charming will be deserting the conjugal stall! He might not even wait for you to foal!»

«He better not, or else there will be hell to pay!"»

«I didn't know mares had pasta rollers!»

«Why bother? I got hoofs and teeth, and he stands tall, well in reach of both!»

Viola couldn't help but laugh. It was quite true the Stallion stood a good five hands above her, and his equipment was within easy reach of teeth and hoofs! Then he shuddered! Were all females that vindictive? If so, males were playing with fire.

***

Ian called a break in the progress toward their new objective at tierce. He called everyone to attention.

"We are nearing a difficult passage, which is reported as highly dangerous. I could port everyone over to the next safe section, but that would only delay the issue, because the number of dangerous sections is increasing as we progress toward the sea. At some point, the army would be split in so many components we would lose efficiency and cohesiveness. Now, so far, I had you fall asleep to ease my work with the space-time dimension. I cannot continue doing so; the terrain is now going to be too dangerous. You will need to take responsibility for your own safety while I and my brothers use our magic to protect you against an invisible and treacherous enemy: the Atom God's Breath, that has deposited his spiel on a wide swath of the terrain ahead of us. There are a few orcs ahead, and while you rest, we are disposing of them. There was a crocodile priest column moving up and we guided the orcs to them; the result was as expected. Dead crocodile priests and decimated orc column. We are now leading them on a wild goose chase, which will put them face to face with a cliff that plunges into a radioactive sinkhole. Harp has been leaving traces of a huge, if totally fictitious, Crocodile Priests and Hunters column along the path that leads to the death trap, and the Orcs are running on it like meat eating ants follow a wounded animal's scent. By the time they get close to the sinkhole, the rest of the horde will push the leaders into it, and once the horde does manage to halt its progress because someone notices something amiss, it will be too late! Samson has been using his Trident to weaken the ground around the sinkhole, and it holds up by inertia more than anything. The sudden vibration of thousands of Orcs walking on it trying to figure out what happened will trigger a landslide, precipitating them to their doom in the maw of the Atom God."

The description of what was happening ahead brought a roar of approval from the troops. The less orc there were, the better!

"Now, I want you to listen carefully! No one is to move away from the road, absolutely no one, for whatever reason. If there are orcs alongside the road, use your shields to protect you and your friends from projectiles. Use arrows to kill them, but under no circumstance are you to go hunt them! Is that clear, Canines? There will be a rearrangement of the column as we leave this area! Canines will walk under the horses, which will walk flank to flank, each carrying an elf or a legionnaire bearing a shield. There will be no running! Equines, be careful not to step on the canines. We estimate that each horse can protect with his body two canines, which is about the right number. That will leave about a thousand canines exposed, and they will be ported by centurie to each safe haven along the way. So do not be surprised to come to a concentration of our allies as you progress. As each group is recovered, it will be ported forward to the next safe place."

"How do we defend ourselves if they attack with swords or pila?" asked a legionnaire.

"You need not worry about that. Once the shields are set in place, your lord, Pharaoh Horus, will extend his own and close the box. By merely touching one of your shield, his will extend from one end of the column to the other, enclosing all in the Shield of Thor; Even breaks between shields will be filled, making this a long armoured snake! This is the Magic of the Shield of Thor! Each time an orc will touch the shield with a weapon, he will be burned to a crisp, as if he had fallen into the mouth of a volcano, the Forge of Thor!"

The units were awed by the powerful feat of magic this implied.

"Drink up! It may be cold now, but when the shields are up, the combined body heat of the Equines, Canines, and Legions will bring the temperature well above one hundred degrees. If you need to attend to bodily functions, do it now. If you need to relieve yourself during the walk, do it on your ride! Are there any more questions?"

"How long before we are released from the snake, as you called it?" a rather down to earth legionnaire enquired.

"We have covered considerable distance already. Within two hours the leading elements of the army will be in view of the next settlement. There shouldn't be any resistance, since the Dragon Prince and a few of his clutch brothers and sisters will have made sure the inhabitants huddle inside their homes. A few low flying passes probably will leave the streets more deserted then a cemetery at matins. Get ready! We depart in ten minutes! Water buckets are being materialised for your mounts, they only need drink, stay on their back unless you need to relieve yourselves."

There were few legionnaires that did so, and usually, it was a quick pee and a dump right in the middle of the road; everyone was mindful of the warning about going out in the woods, and practiced safety over modesty as if legionnaires still had any chance for privacy given their lifestyle!

***

The Dwarfs set the march's tempo with their bagpipes and drums. Strangely, Viola found himself on the outer right side of the snake, as everyone named the new marching arrangement. He had thought he would end up on the inside, but lefties are rare and all had been recruited because their right arm was the one holding their shield. He found himself with a very tall oblong shield set on a resting net tied to another shield strapped to his horse that dropped to the horse's feet lock, leaving less then three inches clearance. That arrangement helped support the shield's weight. His friend was to his left, holding another oblong shield that covered his horse and Viola overhead. Because the shield was off balance, a strut had been installed at a forty-five degree angle so part of the weight rested on the hipbone. The legionnaires in the middle had two such struts one on each side, as their shield on both sides, like a T. The column's width was four horses wide. Just as the legionnaires were beginning to get arm cramps from taking the position, Harold added his own shield, and the sudden binding of all the shields relieved the pressure, since the horses now carried the weight. The column began its walk along the road, like on a parade ground. Each horse stepped the same distance with each foot, and thus kept tight cohesion. The first real issue was the road was far from straight! The shields, not being really interlocked, moved freely, gaps widening and shrinking as the horses turned one way or another. As the feeling of being one settled in, the speed passed to canter.

Viola kept his eyes open on his right side, and he noticed an orc explode in flames as he tried to hit the horseman riding ahead of him. He noticed a hail of arrows rebounding on the shields, and heard it as well, but none managed to penetrate the defences. As he watched the side of the road, he noticed sparks. The road, for what little he could see when it turned right, shimmered as well. He wondered what that meant. At first Viola thought it was Thor's shield that was doing this, but he changed his mind when he noticed that the sparking phenomenon was far from uniform. There were areas of almost no sparkle, and then suddenly, there was a flurry of them.

Things became clear when he noticed, beside the road, the dreaded label of the Atom God. And there was an intense, almost blinding light on the side, hidden in the bushes that looked sickly and burned. He waited to confirm his deduction to see another one of these markers, and it took him less then five minutes to see another, hidden in the bush near the stream the culvert was bridging. There, the glow was less intense, but nonetheless considerable, intensifying as they passed over and diminishing but really never totally vanishing.

The conclusion was clear: the road was imprisoned within a long dome that kept radiation out while letting everything else enter. As he watched the phenomenon, beautiful even if it sang an ode to death waiting, he couldn't help but wonder how they could escape contamination by the dust raised from the cavalry's passage. Then he noticed that the cloud of dust, which should have been burning his eyes and clogging his air passages, was absent. As he realised this, a sharp right turn, revealing a series of horses ahead of him. He focussed on them and noticed they were not even reaching the dirt road, much less rising any of it off the ground. The thud of the hoofs on the varied terrain was uniform, whether it was soft or rocky. The horses were not touching the ground. Then he saw a water pool and it showed not a single ripple! That nailed it. Viola kept his observations to himself, not willing to distract anyone with them. There would be enough time after they had dealt with the next objective. What bothered Viola was the fact that the target was probably as radioactive as the area they were crossing, and most people would probably be so sick they would be closer to death then to life. He remembered the feeling of despair these people exuded as his unit had passed them on their way to be stationed at Riverside. If ever people needed a miracle to regain hope, it was these poor sods. And the situation would not improve, as they got closer to the Arc of Safety. It was a military structure linking big cities and settlements, but it was not a sign of joy or wellbeing, by a long shot.

Viola saw farmsteads, all abandoned. At first he figured the farmers had moved out some time ago, until he found one that had a smoking chimney, indicating a fire was still burning; nonetheless, no one came out to see the army pass, no children, no woman at the window eyeing them suspiciously, as he had gotten used to. The barn was wide open, but no animal could be seen either in the shadows or in the field. A wide field in the rear seemed to have been turned over, and then Viola saw a series of holes along the road. Looking closely as he passed the strange holes, he saw apples on the ground, left there as worms already ate them up. That farm had been an orchard! But there was not a single apple tree visible! Further out on the abandoned farmstead, trees had stood near the forest. His childhood memories came back: the trees near the forest were the cherry trees, because they were less resistant to the wind and needed the protection of the forest as windbreak. After a series of tightly packed conifers, another part of the forest seemed to have been turned upside down by a huge machine. The nature of the tree was clear to his expert eyes: this part had harboured maple trees, and from the fall colour of the leaves on the floor, they were maple trees. The Ark and Eden projects had been enriched by a considerable number of additional specimens concluded Viola.

As Viola was keeping his eyes ahead he suddenly realised they were actually walking amongst the leftovers of a huge battle. Orcs and Hunters lay mixed on the road, interspersed with an occasional Crocodile Priest. He noticed that the column was actually walking slightly above the corpses rather then crushing them on its rush forward. Nothing now shocked Viola, and he shrugged this off as just another example of magic in use.

***

The next settlement appeared over a rise, and Viola was relieved. He was running short on water, and was thirsty. Even the Dwarfs told everyone of their relief by playing Amazing Grace! As he came closer he saw the snake was breaking in two, a group heading to the left and the other heading to the right. As he came to the level of the Shield of Thor, he understood and followed the leading horse and turned right. He could see ahead and slightly to his left the column slowly curve, as the palisade vanished in front of the advancing lead. After ten minutes he saw the left side of the snake converge with the right wing. As the two lead met, the horses halted and a magical dome covered the settlement, effectively isolating it from the outside world.

"Disengage arm from shield!" thundered the Sergeant at arms, whose voice resonated across the settlement like the thunder of the last judgement.

Viola and those that had created the protective circle understood the command was for them. They obeyed, and noticed the shields stayed up, creating a new type of fortification.

"Dismount!"

Every horsemen dismounted, even those that had not taken part in creating the settlement's shield.

"Clean your mounts! Leave the saddles in place!"

Buckets of water appeared and the cavalrymen obediently brushed and washed their mount from any dejection, refreshing the animals in the process. As Viola finished taking care of Pokawonka, the bucket and brush vanished, to be replaced with new buckets of fresh water.

"Water your mount!"

The legionnaires obediently brought the ever-refilling buckets to their mounts, which stayed perfectly still and drank abundantly. Just as most horses had their fill of water, buckets of wheat and oats appeared.

"Feed your mount!"

The process repeated itself, as the buckets kept filling in as the horses took the feed out of them.

"Treat time!"

Each handler got one, fresh apples, another, fresh carrots, according to the horse's preference.

"Report to the basin we created in the village square. Everyone washes! The flow of water will be continuous, and lukewarm. Soap and washcloths are available for all; do not bother with your packs. Do not bother with washing your uniform, it will be replaced."

Viola had been busy with taking care of business and it was the first real look he had given to the village he remembered. It looked even more despondent then in his memory, and he saw that not a single inhabitant was about. As he passed by a window, he saw a face look out, miserable, wide-eyed, and for all intents and purposes, hoping for death to come soon. After cleaning up and getting his fresh uniform, that materialised, fit as if made by a tailor, on, he was milling around trying to decide what to do when the next powerful command overwhelmed the noise of shuffling feet.

"Report to your unit's mess hall. Lunch is served!"

He had noticed that the mess hall tents were appearing in a specific order, and he made his way quickly to his unit, the fifth centurie of cavalry. As he passed near the pool he noticed the wolves were taking a bath, and as soon as one got out, his fur dried up and fluffed. Elves were next in line, as the pool of water was cleared of floating hair, and he saw the Fairies were getting in line behind the Elves to follow suit. The pack horses were still loaded, clearly indicating that the usual camping protocol was not in effect, which did not come as a surprise to Viola, given the changes he already had observed.

As he walked into the tent assigned to his unit, he was met by the commanding officer, a rather impressive Centurion.

"Prince Viola, you could report to the Royal Table, if you wish, and I would hold no grudge for it."

"I have been incorporated in this unit by the will of Prince Harp; I intend to honour my little brother's will, and furthermore, I am proud of being part of this unit, even if I am a soft butt! And please, do me a favour: drop the prince! I am Viola."

"You are welcomed. Please join your decade; they have a seat for you. It is the third decade, on the right of the tent."

The atmosphere in the tent was relaxed; jokes and pranks flew across the confined space, much to the amusement of Viola, which had been used to the gloom and decorum of his old army. Discussions of the day's events abounded, and many speculated on what the next day would bring. Viola broached the subject of the magic field, but no one had seen anything abnormal. As he explained what he had observed, the tent progressively fell silent. Questions popped from across the space, and he tried his best to describe his observations. No one doubted one second he was telling the truth. That a prince of the blood had powers they did not possess went without saying. After describing for the nth time what he had seen, questions faltered, and the hubbub of discussion resumed between close-knit Decades. The topic was the new bit of information the Prince had revealed. It brought home to all members of the centurie that they indeed had a member of the royal family as one of theirs, and the result was a powerful bonding of the unit that far exceeded the normal bonds of a group of men exposed collectively on a daily basis to deadly threats.

***

Viola left the hall after lunch and began walking around the village on foot. His eyes confirmed his first impression: things had worsened considerably since he had passed through the village some years ago. As he walked around, he met his new friend, and the two men talked about their respective observations. They agreed things were terrible for the villagers, worse then anything they had seen before, and Viola decided to go visit his brothers to see what their intentions were, even if he had a good idea the decision had already been taken.

"Come with me, I'm headed for the Royal quarters."

The two men quickly strode across the village and met with Greywolf and Blackie, who were also headed the same way.

"This is Lord Duke Greywolf, Commander in chief of the Canines," pointed out the legionnaire to Viola. "And beside him is Duke Blackie Dog, Commander of the Royal Dog Guards and second in command to Lord Duke Greywolf! Hey, that is Samantha, the Heir's milk nanny! I hope the youngest is not in trouble!"

"I hope I won't be barging in on a strategic meeting again, like I did last time! I felt so out of place! But how come you can differentiate wolves? For me they all look scary!"

"Fur marks for one; the sex is easily differentiated as there is a noticeable dichotomy in size between males and females, and, well, you know what dangles between our legs too!"

"Did I understand you right? Samantha was Ian's milk nanny? How is that possible?"

The legionnaire explained the circumstances that had surrounded Ian's birth, and the birth of Lord Agramon. It was only the repeated exposure to magic that brought down the wall of scepticism he would have normally created around the story. They entered the royal tent's antechamber, and waited while the three canines walked straight in without even a bark.

A few minutes later, Harp came out to greet them and invite them inside.

"Greywolf told me you were afraid of barging in on a strategic meeting, Viola; you will never barge in, and will always be welcomed. In fact, we were going to send for you. Our next objective is in hard, and we want to know its military dispositions and status."

"I told you they talked to wolves and they would know what we were discussing!" piped up the legionnaire.

"I confess I had my doubts. Harp, I came here because I want to do something for the people of this village. They are so desperate I can feel it in my bones."

"We feel it too, Viola. We will be moving everyone in ten minutes and destroy the village before taking rest from today's work. You can sleep on your two ears."

"What about radiation? This place reeks of death."

"We noticed! We have isolated everyone from contact with the soil, and there is a radiation shield covering the entire village, from top to bottom. The livestock, fruit trees and a selection of the other living organisms will be ported into the decontamination section of the hospital in Thebes, containing special machinery to finish removing any residual radiation that the porting might have forgotten to leave behind. They will be kept in suspended animation until both their physical and mental states have improved. Are your concerns addressed?"

"Yes, I am pleased to see these people will finally get a break. Can my friend come in the meeting? After all..."

"After all you two have been in together? Sure, Viola. Come in legionnaire. Feel at ease. Paschal and I will be busy, Enron and Sitar will lead the strategic discussion this afternoon. Ian is taking a nap. He handled half of the snake shield today, and is tired."

"I need to talk to you about that. When will you be back?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Paschal is going to Thebes to direct the triage and start the emergency protocols. He will be back here by vespers. I should also be free by then."

Harp opened the flap, ushered the two inside the inner room, turned and left. Viola was always surprised to notice that the tent looked much bigger from the inside then from the outside. He wondered what magic could produce this.

***

After introducing his friend to the royals, he and Viola were invited to look at the maps. One showed the next segment of the road ahead, and another a very detailed map of the next objective; the last one was a map of the area around the objective, from water depths to roads, and isolated farms. Red dots kept moving on the map, with an occasional green one; the collision between the dots produced a bright yellow dot that faded to grey after a while. The moving pattern fascinated Viola, and his curiosity caught the eye of Enron.

"I suppose you wonder what these things represent?"

"Yes, I admit I'm intrigued."

"The red dots are enemy concentrations, namely two or more of a hostile species. The green dots are our units: Dragons, Wolves, Equines, Pegasuses, Unicorns, Fairies, Dwarfs, Trolls, Centaurs, Elves and Legionnaires. The size of the dot is proportional to the number of units involved in each party. When two opposing forces, the dots merge, turn yellow for the duration of the battle, and the result is reported: a grey dot indicates where a battle took place; and the party leaving the battlefield with a clear win just moves off to another battle. You will notice the light red dots: they are the Usurper's units. They are few, and most are stationary, indicating an attempt at fortification and static defence. I just hope he keeps it that way. Your units stand no chance against the Hunters or the orcs in a battlefield, and many innocents would die needlessly if he changed his strategy."

"That is a remarkable feat of magic!"

"Well, yes, Harp's good, I must admit. We complained a few days ago about having to run through tons of reports and collate them to get a clear picture. He came back with this and I admit I am impressed by the result!"

Just then a red dot turned bright yellow as a green, much smaller dot, merged with it.

"Ah, Typhoon and his dragons engaged that concentration of orcs twenty-five miles west of here. They came to our attention as they were nearing our planned route tomorrow. There won't be many orcs returning home. Our spies estimated the horde at five hundred centuries, and it will be a nice exercise for the one hundred dragons! They were bored."

"How do you know which unit is represented by a dot?"

"Below the dot, visible through magic sight, is a symbol indicating the species; and below that, on a second level, the Unit commander. We even know who commands the orcs! Being able to fly in as a sparrow to listen off a branch has its advantages."

"How do you know the losses?"

"What losses? On our side, the moment a soldier is wounded, he gets ported to Thebes for treatment either through magic or in the stasis chambers. We haven't had a single dead since we have instituted this protocol. Each soldier has a port key. The moment it registers the stress of a serious wound, the soldier is ported back to Thebes, directly to triage. As for the hostiles, their fate depends on the direction they take to flee."

"When you are done being hypnotized by the map, guys, would you mind joining me to discuss the map of the objective?" intervened Sitar.

Just then, the big yellow dot exploded into numerous yellow and red dots.

"Ah, the main battle is over! The yellow dots moving toward us are hostiles pursued by our units; the red ones are hostiles moving away from our position and therefore left alone, for now that is! Did you see that red dot, on the edge of the battlefield, which flared yellow before turning gray? It met a small green unit, ten wolves, and the two orcs got disposed of. We had three wounded, ported to Thebes. The unit is headed south to merge with another unit that lost a few wolves. That red dot that just appeared out of nowhere indicates two orcs met and are now considered a unit. It is moving away. Ok, back to work, guys, we have a strategy meeting to get going!"

The others joined Sitar to overlook the next objective's representation.

"What do you know of this place?" began Sitar.

"It is the provincial capital, and as such, is better defended. The farmland around the town is prime farm because it is widely protected from the Breath by the mountain range you see creating an arc from north to south extending east. It is the grain bed of the area and the fruit-producing centre of the five northern provinces. The concentration of troops is considerable, if only because of its strategic importance. The road we are following will bring us to the western arch, the most heavily defended of the three doors. Orcs have raided the area, and they generally attack following the shortest route, which is from west to east, and keep banging at that door. They haven't even considered taking a walk around to see if there are any others."

"Maybe that was the case some years ago, but the populace will be faced with a changed enemy. It has learned! Anyway, is there a way to run around the city and attack it from the other side?"

Enron pointed out the numerous narrow paths that did run around, but Sitar discounted them.

"We would be in sight of the city way too much and surprise would be lost; furthermore, the narrow paths would divide our forces. We must maintain our forces united when we assail that stronghold."

"What about the units currently spread around the area?" asked Viola.

"They will be back under the shield tonight, except for those that will leave at vespers to keep an eye on the enemy movements. I don't want to wake up with a concentration of orcs at my door. At the rate the orcs are being decimated by the mobile units, they won't be a threat at sundown."

"Will our units be contaminated by radiation?"

"No, Harp was adamant that each unit was protected by an anti-radiation shield. Since the unit could not reasonably be expected to stay grouped under battle conditions, each member received a special vest that is radioactive-tight, while leaving air pass freely. He said he had the seamstresses weave the clothes with one strand of orichalque for every five of cotton, creating a powerful magic cloth. He then loaded the strands with magic, making it radioactive-resistant."

Viola looked at Sitar not really understanding the nature of magic and the role of orichalque in its storage and flow. Noting that Enron seemed to accept Sitar's explanation without even blinking, he figured he was missing some more bits of the puzzle.

"The next objective is out of reach of a single day displacement, Ian told me before taking his nap. He said to find a place for an overnight stay along the way. Viola, what would you suggest?"

"To be honest, I have no remembrance of a place that could be used to build a camp of the proper size. Markers of the Atom God, even near the objective, sprinkle the road. Clean water is at a premium."

"That isn't good, Viola, especially since I would like the men to rest before the assault."

"Why walk, sire?" said a very nervous legionnaire, unsure of himself.

"Speak! What are you thinking? We are short on ideas!"

"Why not stay a few days here, use the time to build a flotilla of rafts from the forest around here? I am sure there are enough trees to build a sizable collection of rafts."

"That is an idea. From our over flights, we noticed there are no rapids from here to the fortified city. The water is moderately hot, a lot less then the earth for that matter."

"And a judicious use of magic to cut the trees into lumber would remove most of the radiation from them as well. I remember reading that the trees show a high concentration of radiation in the first few inches, but that the core of the tree seems to have been progressively cleaned of it by time. The older, the bigger the tree, and the less the core is contaminated. It does not drop to zero, but it diminishes exponentially. We will have to literally cut the trees into beams and leave the outer material behind, keeping only the heart to build our rafts," added Enron.

"How many rafts would we need?" wondered Sitar.

"That would depend on their size and the size of the army," replied the legionnaire, gaining confidence. "From my approximate head count we have a thousand centuries, not all of which need to be carried on rafts, since they can port or fly, namely the Unicorns, Dragons, Mages, and Pegasuses. It removes four centuries or more from the trouble."

"The exact number of centuries is one thousand two hundred and seventy-four," Sitar informed the mathematical genius. The fairies are not counted, since they ride on Pegasuses."

"Ok, Canines can pack more of their numbers on a raft, while horses and Centaurs pack less then Elves, legionnaires and dwarfs. Trolls pack somewhat between horses and legionnaires in numbers. We will also need people to men the oars and guide the rafts, so whatever we do, each raft will contain a substantial number of legionnaires, elves or dwarfs. I wouldn't put Centaurs at the oar benches, for obvious reasons, but they could be used to handle the rudders. As for the Fairies, they can fly on the dragons or Pegasuses, acting as air cover, as you mentioned."

Viola looked at his friend with wide eyes. The quick wit and analysis of the intendance required of moving the army from a land-locked to a raft flotilla mode of travel had been short and to the point.

"Estimate the number of rafts, legionnaire?" asked Sitar, as if nothing special had occurred.

"I estimate we will build rafts about fifty feet long by twenty-five feet wide, so we can manoeuvre them relatively easily. That will allow us to place, in the centre of each raft, three lines of horses²⁰²⁰ ("A horse is four feet eight point five inches wide, which means three horses are fourteen feet one point five inches wide.") on about forty feet, with five feet safety margin at both end, and oar benches on the side for two oarsmen per oar, spaced every two feet. The number of rudders will be set at four, spaced evenly at the rear of the raft. That will put eighty oarsmen per raft. We need a drummer and a captain for each raft. The drummer is to beat the tempo for the oarsmen, and somebody got to take decisions on a ship. We have a hundred Centaurs, we can move twenty-five of these rafts with their help."

"Sorry to contradict you, young man, we have a lot more centaurs. I suspect you haven't seen the rest of the army yet. There are three thousand three hundred of them."

"Ok, that means we could move eight hundred and twenty-five rafts. A horse measures eight feet from snout to tail on average, which will let us put five horses in line, fifteen horses per big raft, for a total of thirty-thee thousand pounds of load for horses, and if we add the Centaurs, that will add nine thousand and six hundred pounds, we reach forty-two thousand six hundred pounds; the rowers, at eighty per raft, will add twenty-four thousand pounds, and then there is the drummer and the commanding officer. This gives a load of seventy two thousand three hundred pounds, of slightly over thirty-six tons per raft. In order for the raft to float we must effectively displace that amount of water and then some, otherwise we will have wet feet."

"OK. I sense there is more?"

"Yes, prince Sitar. Let me get back to the numbers. I'll give you a rough estimate of the number of rafts of the same size we will need." The young man took a scroll and began doing complicated calculations, estimating the size of each species and its need for space. He had the canines figured out rapidly, as he explained he expected them to stay laying down on beside each other, which left enough space for over ninety of them per raft; the Legionnaires, Dwarfs and Elves were put in the same category, and, because of the need to use benches, their numbers were reduced to eight per row, excluding the oarsmen, and twenty rows each, for a total of one hundred and sixty per raft. Then came the estimated number of rafts to carry the military inventory, from tents to food, as each soldier was expected to bring his weapons on his respective raft.

"Ok, to move everyone, we need eight hundred and eleven rafts. To be honest, I would prefer if we build extra rafts; it might be useful later, should one raft get damaged. The total number of rafts is five hundred and fifty-seven for the horses, including packhorses, one hundred and twenty-four for the canines, none for the legions since they will be rowing, seventy for the Dwarfs, three for the Trolls, twenty-five for the material, and nineteen for the Elves that won't be rowing, for a grand total of eight hundred and eleven rafts. The number of oarsmen is at fifty-five thousand six hundred and fifty. Officers won't be sitting on their butts giving orders for once! We will need to build three thousand two hundred and forty-four rudders, and thirty-two thousand four hundred and forty oars plus spares to load on the spare raft, if we build it."

"Get the carpenters to estimate the volume of wood required to build the rafts of the dimension you calculated and displacing forty-six tons. I understood quite clearly your concern about dry feet!"

"It's too bad Paschal or Williams are off at Thebes. If carpenters could do that estimate, it is they, Sitar."

"Who says they need to be here, Enron? Hold on, I'm checking with them and passing them the information."

"What kinds of trees are found around here? I saw spruce, but what else?"

"I saw poplar, spruce, maple, birch, oak, walnut, willow, some rather rachitic apple, and ash."

"Ok, Viola." A few minutes later, Sitar came back with another question.

"Which species is the most common?"

"Spruce and Poplar, followed by Willow."

"Ok, They agree we need to use Spruce, Poplar and Willow to build the rafts, and use the oak for oars, the rudders and the benches."

"That makes sense, the hardwood is dense and resistant but floats less well then the softwood Spruce, Poplar and Willow."

"Paschal says we need to assemble rafts displacing thirty six tons of water to break even or thirty-nine fifty-foot long beams. To add the safety margin, he recommends bringing the number to fifty beams. Each raft would weight thirty-one tons. He suggests putting them in overlaid crossbeam, whatever that means, and mortise them so they won't move. He says the water will dilate the mortise, locking them tighter than anything we could do otherwise. I told him to move his ass back here because I'm lost! Anyway, get those with logging experience to go out tomorrow to get the proper number of trees. He says to make sure they are of relatively uniform size, and to focus on the trunks, that must be as straight as possible."

"Will he be back tonight?" asked Enron.

"He better be, or I'll pop to Thebes and drag him by his ass back here!"

Viola looked at the exchange between Enron and Sitar wide-eyed, then exploded in laughter.

"What's so funny?" asked Sitar.

"I've never been at a strategic meeting from start to finish, Sitar, but if they are all handled that way, I understand why people so enjoy being in charge of an army!" His friend the legionnaire grinned.

"If you don't mind, I'll go collect those of us with logging experience and carpeting expertise. The sooner we begin organising ourselves, the faster we get out of here."

"You are right, legionnaire. Go ahead. Viola, since you know wood, go with him, and explain what we are looking for."

***

Viola exited the royal tent to a totally changed village. In fact the village was gone. The circle created by the horses was flat: nothing was left standing apart from the legions' tents. The centre had kept the newly created pool, but that was it.

"Well, Paschal and Harp worked quickly. That meeting lasted less then an hour!"

"I think this is because everyone had to be moved into decontamination chambers, specialised stasis chambers Paschal had to design and build on the fly due to the level of radiation sickness cases we have been finding," replied Harp, as he walked from around the tent. "I hear you participated actively in a strategy meeting and found an ingenious solution to our problem. Thank you very much, gentlemen, this is what we expect of all our legionnaires! Ian will be grateful, the snake gave him a headache."

"We're off to collect potential lumberjacks and carpenters. Would you care to walk around camp with us? You must need some physical exercise after disposing of the village so quickly. Anyway, we expect the arrival of three additional centuries of Centaurs shortly. You might be able to help them set up camp without creating too much disruption."

"What a nice way to put things, legionnaire. I admit they are a bit stubborn. Too bad we can't qualify this as a walk in fresh air."

The three walked from unit to unit, Viola explaining what they were looking for. By the end of the tour, they had a hundred lumberjacks, twenty-five carpenters, and five cabinetmakers. The group moved to the waterhole and as the sun was setting down, the legionnaire explained in further details what was envisioned and why and the calculations he and Paschal had done.

"How many trees are we talking about," asked Harp, voicing the question everyone dared not think about.

The legionnaire looked at Viola for some data on the trees in question.

"Mature spruce varies from ninety to one hundred and thirty-five feet tall. We will probably find a lot more of the ninety foot ones then the giant ones, their circumference at the widest of the trunk is five feet on average. We will lose the top, as it will be too thin, say about ten feet. Each trunk will measure a length of eighty feet probably less, which we will cut into twenty-five feet segments or fifty-feet segments depending on their planned use. The rest will be made into mortises to insert in the trunks." Viola took a breath, and thought things out.

"Poplar trees are around seventy feet tall, and have straight trunks clear of branches for most of their length, at least those we have around here. Their trunk circumference is similar to the spruce at maturity. The willow tree is about the same height as the poplar but with a trunk that can easily reach twice the circumference of the other two. The problem is the branches appear rather low on the trunk, and it limits its use for raft building, plus being much less common then the two previous species. I recommend we get willows only if we run out of the other two varieties."

"Ok, Viola. Let me do some maths based on some basic assumptions. First we take the lower fifty feet of spruce to build the rafts, cutting that section in half to make the crossbeam as Paschal suggested. The second assumption is we trim trees into long squared beams, measuring one foot a side from trunks measuring a minimum of 1.4142 feet in diameter, which means the tree must have a circumference of 4.44 feet, a very rough estimate, thank you. There are quite a few of those around, since this is old growth. That beam would measure a volume of fifty cubic feet. Each beam weights one thousand two hundred and forty-six pounds but displaces three thousand one hundred and fourteen pounds of water for a load capacity of one thousand eight hundred and sixty-nine pounds per beam. The numbers are rounded."

The legionnaire did some more calculations, and came up with another set of numbers. Just as he was about to flood the meeting with them, Harold, who had joined the meeting after inspecting the Equines, raised his hand.

"Just answer one question: how many rafts do we need?"

The legionnaire looked at the bottom of his scroll and came up with the number.

"Eight hundred and eleven, your Majesty."

He took a breath, and then continued. "We will need forty thousand five hundred and fifty spruces to build the rafts. For oars, rudders, and benches, I estimate we need six hundred and ninety hardwood trees. The variety is less important then getting the numbers to make the objects we need."

"Why not make the rafts by magic?" commented a lumberjack.

"You guys do not realize the effort required to make the food, keep you safe from radiation, port the wounded, cure those we do not port. Stop being lazy and get organised in teams," replied Harp sharply.

Everyone hung their head low. They had hurt Harp because they had all thought what that big mouth had voiced, without concern for the work the princes were doing for them. Viola took over the organization of the lumber production.

"The lumberjacks are charged with selecting and bringing down the trees we need. Horse teams will carry the trees to the carpenters that will do the squaring; the cabinetmakers will assemble the rafts. I expect Paschal will be back shortly to help. One question, who will lead the horse trains from the logging camps to our trimming camp?"

"They don't need anyone, Viola. They will know what to do. The loggers only need to strap the log between four horses so it doesn't drag on the ground and they will come back here with the raw log."

"Ok, next question, this for the lumberjacks. How many trees can you bring down per day?"

"We use the lumbermen's saw for that, which will make for fifty teams. We can bring down twenty spruce trees per day per team."

"That means you can cut down one thousand trees a day. It means forty-one days to get the trees we need."

"It's too long! By then the river will be iced over. Harp!"

Harp looked at Viola.

"What's the issue?"

"We need to double or triple the output of trees if we are to make it on time."

"That's easy. We get additional lumberjacks around on temporary call. How many do you need?"

"Two hundred additional lumberjacks should bring the production of trees to three thousand per day, right?"

"Yes, prince Viola."

"And that would bring the time to cut the trees down to fourteen days," added the ever so helpful legionnaire.

"We need to consider your request to tie the trees to the horses so they do not drag, prince, and to cut off the unneeded parts."

"Do not worry, I'll have the legionnaires deal with that. Bring the trees down, and they will trim and get them out of the woods."

"There is another issue, Prince Viola."

"What is it?"

"However hard we work we cannot keep up with the production of the lumberjacks. At most we can trim and square a tree per day! And we need to work together to achieve that!"

Viola looked at Harp, desperate to find a solution.

At that point, Paschal popped up beside the group, back from Thebes.

"Why the long face, Harp?"

Harp explained the problem and Paschal, putting his feet in the cold water to refresh them, took a pensive look. After a few minutes, he answered.

"Let's build a sawmill! Ok, we will need magic to make it, but once it's done, we could use manpower to run the saw that will cut the lumber into squares. I bet this would be a lot faster then using the planer. The log is held against a guide and pushed on rollers while two rotating saws cut it on the two opposing faces; it is then rotated ninety degrees passed back in the opposite direction against two more rotating blades, and bingo, you got your square beam. It will be noisy as hell, but a lot faster!"

"You mention manpower to do this?" asked one of the carpenters.

"Well, you certainly see the grills we use in the kitchen? The dogs turn the grill by running in a rotating drum. We could do the same, converting the rotary motion of the man-size drums into high-speed rotation for the blades. I'll ask dad to create carbide blades by magic, and I'll design and assemble a gear box system that will convert the rotation of the drum into high-speed rotation for the saw blades."

"How fast would that trim a tree?" wondered another carpenter, as he tried to envision what Paschal was describing.

"Oh, easily a thousand a day. Passing a tree in both directions will take at most a minute each."

"Paschal, you need to make six of these sawmills or double the production rate, otherwise the sawmill will be running a little over sixteen hours a day, a bit too much for our ears!" said the so apt at mathematics legionnaire.

"So be it, then, we multiply the number of production lines by six. I'll ask dad to create twenty-four saw blades rather then the four I had envisioned."

"What about the assembly of the rafts? We are only five!" one of cabinetmakers asked.

"Grr! Issues, issues... Do not assemble them, we got Dwarfs, Elves and Legionnaires that will be sitting on their bums; explain to them what must be done, how to do it, and then organize the work so they do it!" exploded Viola.

"Ah! The family temper!" said Paschal, as Harp rolled on the ground laughing at the cabinetmakers' faces.

"I'll be going back to Thebes to draw the plans for the sawmills, Harp. Guys, tomorrow, you go out on horseback with escorts, and mark trees to cut down. Spruce grows in rather extensive clumps of the same age as they sprout after a forest fire. Mark the outside trees only, and estimate the number of trees in the clump. It's easy, calculate an approximate area, the number of trees per area and multiply the two numbers. We don't care if the number is below or above reality, all things will even out. Try to find forty-one thousand five hundred spruce trees. Better have more then run short! You have four days! It will take me that much to do the drawings, assemble the sawmills, and for dad to make the blades. See with your respective centurions for security detail issues. Harp, I need steel carbide blades for the high-speed saws. Ask dad to make them for me. Ask him to get assistance from Thorsten. A faulty blade could be deadly!"

"All right, Paschal. I'll inform Sitar of the situation. He won't be too happy because he expected you to be here to design the rafts and guide their assembly."

"I'll be sending Williams with the plans. He can do that, while I am busy drawing a sawmill and creating the parts!"

"Yes, you are right. Williams is a good carpenter, and he knows ship designs; however, I do not know if he ever built a raft!"

"Who cares, I'll explain to him what I want and I'm sure he'll get it right. I'll see you later this week, Harp." With that last comment, Paschal popped out of view.

"I wish I could do that," commented Viola.

"What do you complain about, Viola? You see magic!"

Harp, which had been walking away, swung around!

"What? Did I hear you right? Viola sees magic?"

"Well, yes, I do, and I talked about it to Ian which seemed to consider this normal, so I didn't feel any need to talk about it further."

"The little prick! He is so used to high power magic he thinks everyone should be able to do it! I'll rub his ears when he wakes up for supper! Viola, you are truly part of us if you can see magic. I wouldn't be surprised if you could hear it or sense it as a feeling of a rushing wave."

"Is that what I feel when you guys do it? I was wondering if I wasn't getting a bug! And there is this constant buzz around us, which reaches a high pitch in some situation but is usually like a background rumble!"

"That is the sound and feel of magic, Viola. Most magical creatures can feel it; sound is less frequent, but seeing is very rare. We all can see it; Marlin, the now decrepit ex-mage, could with a lot of effort; and I can probably count on the fingers of the right hand the number of mages that could, including the now deceased Meagan."

"I'll repeat the question I asked Ian. Why can't I do magic, then?"

"Have you even tried?"

"Actually, no, come to think of it."

"You do! You talk to your horse all the time, and I'm beginning to hear you Viola. And I can see the wolves look at you with acute attention, as if they were trying to decipher what you were saying. I have to work really hard to get that from them, and it seems to be on its way to bloom like a spring flower in you," replied the legionnaire.

"You need to learn how to focus, Viola. I'll take your magical education in hand shortly. It might come in handy as we progress."

"I wonder if my other siblings have magical powers?"

"I hope so, it will improve their chances of survival and the probability we find them. Magic runs in families, and ours is particularly apt at it. I better go see dad and Thorsten. They will want to analyse the design of the blades and run materialization tests! I'll tell dad what Ian has been keeping to himself. The little bugger!"

"He was a bit busy when I told him, and it probably flew over his head, if it is such a common occurrence in the family."

***

Paschal came back from Thebes with the plans for the sawmill three days later; the assembly of the different components took an additional three days, bringing the delay in starting the production of the beams to seven days. By then Viola had organised the horse and Elves teams to bring the trees to the sawmill, while the wolves, dragons and other allies kept the area clear of orcs or any other uninvited guests. The sawmill yard had a pile of a thousand trees, neatly stacked into rows, and the leftovers from trimmings had been set aside for the construction of the interlocking wood bits that would keep the assembly stable like a puzzle. The blades were set for their first test, under the careful eyes of Thorsten, and Harold had begun manufacturing steel ropes that would complete the tightening of the rafts by wrapping each end of a raft in a noose that then would be tightened by means of a capstan. The first tests proved that Paschal's design held, and the day was spent fine-tuning it in view of a full-speed run the next day. Once things began in earnest, Paschal directed the carpenters into how to assemble the first raft, explaining to the men how to do each layer. The first raft took a full day to assemble, and the tightening of the cables with the capstans was put off to the next day, along with the mounting of the benches, left to the cabinetmakers.

"I hope things will speed up, or we will be here in three months and the river will have frozen over!" complained Harold.

"I just sent out a call for a centurie of carpenters and cabinetmakers, dad. We have not called on the kingdom's resources much so far in this campaign. It's time this changes. I also requested another hundred lumbermen, and Paschal is busy building another mill, which should double our output of beams. And remember, this is the grinding period. In a day or two things should speed up."

"I hope you are right, Harp. I'll be making eight more saw blades for Paschal's new sawmill. Thorsten! You're needed!"

Things did indeed improve rapidly as everyone learned the ropes of mass raft production. In fact, things improved so much that the production of the rafts was finished in thirty-five days, rather then the seventy planned originally. Given the delays at the beginning, all the tests and the uncertainty inherent to an untested concept, that was a remarkable feat.

As the last raft was assembled and tested by doing a quick tour on the river, the royals were satisfied their flotilla was ready for use.

"Harp, we are ready to board the flotilla. Send back the extra manpower we required. Get the wolves and other canines on theirs, along with their oarsmen and the four Centaurs," commanded Samson, in charge of that part of the trip.

The wolves walked in order to the leading rafts, to a tune of ninety canines per raft and mobilising one hundred and twenty-four of them, lay down, and the legionnaires that were to handle the oars took their seat, oars at rest on the raft's side. The next to board the raft were the four Centaurs, and the drummer, responsible for the cadence, an elf.

The next rafts to get loaded were those reserved for the legions, including the Dwarfs, Elves, and other bipeds. By principle, the loading went from light to heavy, with the last three biped rafts reserved for the Trolls. Next came the loading of the horses, which proved that the rafts had been correctly balanced since they did not either capsize or sink. The next raft was loaded by magic as the tents, mess halls, and other equipment. Yet remained to get into their rafts those horses that had been holding the shield all those days and their riders.

"Riders, mount!" thundered the Sergeant at arms.

"Engage arm!"

"Brace for shield!"

Suddenly, Viola felt the full weight of his shield as it disengaged from the defence of the now totally vacated camp.

"Merge on four!"

The first four horses, two from the left and two from the right, formed a four-horses wide column; the circle gradually aligned itself into a new arrangement, still shielding each other.

"Merge on three!"

This time, the two outside horsemen stayed aligned, one of the inner horsemen stayed back and waited for the two rear guards to advance beside him; the process was repeated until all were sorted out.

"Row one! Board! Release lateral shield!"

A group of grooms quickly took the lateral shields and brought them to the intendance raft.

"Dismount!" The horsemen dismounted, and stood at the head of their horses.

"Tighten ranks!" The horse moved to stand flank to flank.

"To your oars!" The horsemen moved to take their seat to the front bench, two on each side.

The sequence was repeated until all the horses were loaded, their riders sitting on benches. The last ones to board were the extra Centaurs and the Sergeant at arms. The camp lay silent, abandoned of its last occupants. Suddenly, the sawmills vanished; Harp had ported the contraptions to Thebes. The only indication of their presence was the sawdust piles and the trimmings abandoned on the ground. Then these too disappeared, leaving a barren camp.

"Weight anchors!" thundered Samson from the first raft. As his raft left the huge block composed of the other rafts, gaffs were used to push it away into the river's flow. A rope slowly unrolled, and as it became tense, another series of orders could be heard over the water.

"Release tie! Drop rudders! Drop oars! Drummer! One on four!"

This last command meant that the oars would go at a rate of one full cycle every four seconds, or fifteen full cycles per minute. It was fast, but it would bring the raft into the middle of the river quickly.

As the raft got near the middle of the river, the Centaurs leaned on the rudders to bring the raft to face downriver. To help in the process, Samson gave another set of orders.

"Starboard rise!"

The right line of oars rose up, out of the water while the one on the left or port side continued propelling it, thus speeding the turn to the right. A few seconds later as the nose of the raft neared its intended direction the counter command came:

"Starboard drop on beat!"

At the intended time, the right oars engaged the water at the same time as the left oars did, as the rudders began keeping the raft aligned with the river.

Behind the lead raft, others began to manoeuvre and join it in its slow descent along the Hud. Finally satisfied with the situation, Samson slowed the beat:

"Drummer! One in ten!"

This brought the rate of rowing to one cycle every six seconds, a much more sustainable beat, while giving the raft enough relative speed for the rudders to bite.

The leading raft had disappeared along the river bend when the last one left the shores, and the docks vanished back into oblivion, destroying the last traces of the whole process.

«This is tiring!» complained Viola, as he rowed. «My back hurts already!»

«And carrying your carcass and all that crap for a full day isn't, I suppose?» replied Pokawonka, much to the amusement of the other horses on the raft.