Cheilin Saga ~ 07

Cheilin Saga ~ 07  Defence Against Bluttland

By Len Morgan

Aldor surprised even Lomax, by completing his training in just four months.   It was during the following year that Aldor and Meillo officially became a couple.

 over the next five years, their plans would come to fruition. They would build up a network of forty forts, fully garrisoned, around the fringes of the Empire.   All manned by militiamen trained, by a small cadre of Tylywoch a hundred and fifty seasoned warriors.

   Bandits and opportunist raiders from outside took their lives into their hands when carrying out raids on the Cheilin Empire.   Each fort could raise and field a force of 2000 well-trained and battle-hardened troops at any destination on the fringes, within hours of the alarm being given, which would be swift, thanks to the inception of the 13^th Clans secret weapon, ‘pigeon post’.   The only form of attack with any chance of success would be a hit-and-run raid, but there were precious few successes.

The Empire prospered and the imminent attack from Bluttland was postponed indefinitely due to the constant readiness of the 13^th Clan.   There were rumours and feint attacks to test their defences but they were not found wanting so all the posturing came to naught.   However, had the Bluttlanders known of the chronic shortage of weapons it might have been a different story, but they never received that information and so the invasion never happened.  The Emperor was pleased with the performance of his 13^th Clan and with their new tactics.

.-…-.

In the eleventh year of Aldor’s stay in Cheilin, Sanko had to pass on intelligence to Emperor Daidan III from the border with Blutland reporting a build-up of troops on the far shore of the Stalbech river.  

“It may of course be just an exercise to test our state of readiness ‘light of the world’.”

“You have of course countered with an appropriate force I presume?” said the Emperor.

“We mobilized units from the nearest forts; half the complement of Strikol, Ricc, & Teel.”  

“That would be three thousand men.  What is the size of the opposing force?”

“Close to twenty thousand,” Sanko replied.

“Seven to one that is a high ratio; would you consider an additional two thousand expedient?”

“They are on their way, ‘light of the world’.” 

Daidan III winced.  “You know how I feel about that honorific, you are my friend so in the future please, just call me Dan.”

“Yes, ligh… Dan” Sanko grinned.  

“Oh one thing more, I need to speak with Aldor, would you ask him to join me please?” 

"Right away Dan." he was bowing as he backed out of the audience chamber. 

.-…-. 

Six months on, it was Aldor who was providing the progress reports.  

“Good day Aldor, what news from the Stalbech?”

“We have been steadily moving troops from the west over to the Eastern forts in order to provide additional support if or when their attack comes…”

“I’m aware of that, how many men have you mustered?”

“Currently we have just over twenty thousand with the same again on call.”

“Opposing?”

“Between sixty and eighty thousand if our intelligence is as good as we think.   We are maintaining the ratio at four to one.” Said Aldor.  "I hope the other Clans are not becoming too alarmed about the troop movements?"

"Not as much as you might think, I only have to suggest that they contribute a complement of their own forces to administer the outer regions.  But they are too busy watching their neighbours to risk-reducing their own forces.  They are content for me to draft in others for the task." Dan smiled “Will Forty thousand be a sufficient deterrent?”

“Bluttlands losses would be massive on crossing the Stalbech and in their landing places.  We expect to face them at only two to one.”

“Are they aware of what it will cost them?” 

“They know,” Aldor assured him.

“Let’s just hope it will be a sufficient deterrent then...” 

 .-…-. 

   In the fall of his eleventh year, Aldor considered his work in the Cheilin Empire near to completion, he said as much to Orden; during one of their many chats.

Orden chuckled with amusement, ’don’t be so hasty Sprout.   Your work here in Cheilin has barely begun; you still need to spend at least another century here’

'But,' he asked in desperation, 'what about the rest of Abbalar?'

'What is there to know?   Corvalen has become the cultural center of the Kurdik states, the Poché  Platzé is now a theatre, run by none other than your very good friend Genna Dylan.   It is not only thriving but becoming internationally renowned.   Asba continues, as ever, working towards the betterment of his charges, the deprived and underprivileged young people.   Whilst, true to his word, Paveil is administering a more enlightened State, and educating his eldest son for succession.   Skaa returned home, as he'd planned, he now has his own farm, a young wife, five sons, and a daughter, at the last count.   Between them, they are keeping him pretty well occupied, and will; no doubt look after him well into his dotage.   And, when he finally returns to the wheel of life, you will have aged a few years,' said Orden.   'Last I heard, Genna and Asba had twin boys and a daughter, and we're anxiously awaiting the birth of their third son who they plan to name Ahlendor after you.'

'It's been eleven years since I left Corvalen.  I have heard nothing, where do you get your information?' 

'I have my sources.'   Orden chuckled.

'Then perhaps you can tell me why I have been ordered back to Sanctuary, so suddenly?'

'Why did you not read the messenger's mind?' 

'Because the Tylywoch are very efficient at closing off certain areas of their minds, and I find it tiring trying to winkle out information.   I am much better at reading faces, gestures, and reactions.'

'Then that is what you should do sprout!   I will bid you well, I must be away, things to do you understand, I'm awaiting the arrival of a new trainee, a young sword-smith named Terek, he should be of use to you in time to come, he is a sword-smith of note, his craftsmanship is a pleasure to behold.'   

Aldor knew he would get nothing further from Orden.  'Goodbye friend.'

(to be Continued) 

Copyright Len Morgan