must know that we will drive them hard. The cavalry will depart alone, the better to arrive early, while the infantry and wounded follow behind at the fastest possible pace. Assur! Ian! You will be in charge of the defense of our capital in Targov. Meier, you and our infantry generals will guard the rear, in case the Karavunians send an army into Valahia in retaliation. We cannot afford to be attacked from both east and west! Does everyone understand?” There was a singular ch orus.
“Yes, my lord!” they said, saluting. Meier had another one of his feelings. Things were about to get dire. There was no avoidin g it.
The men moved out early in the morning, as they had been commanded. The sun had not yet peeked over the horizon, and the men were yawning and stumbling their way across the countryside. Despite this, they moved with purpose. Now it was their homeland that they were defending. The thought of the Gunar flag being raised in Targov was more than they could bear. They pushed themselves despite their obvious fatigue. The cavalry had long since faded into the horizon, led by Meier’s brothers. He wished them luck, but in private, Meier disagreed with his father. It made poor sense to race ahead by dividing the forces. What was cavalry without infantry to support it? Still, he took comfort in one thing. The Karavunians were not about to mount an invasion of their own. He felt sure of it. They were not the type. As long as their land was safe, they would be satisfied. At least he hoped they would be. Just to be sure, Meier left behind extra scouts to watch the border at several places. The infantry generals seemed to think this was overcautious, but Meier politely overruled them. He was getting a bit more used to making command decisions. They fortified their stronghold at Colif still, but only as lightly as they d ared.
Meier thought of his poor mother. She was alone in command of a paltry thousand men against what had to be at least ten thousand men or more from Gunar. Luckily, the city of Targov was defensible. The royal castle had the age-old nickname that translated as “Hard Place” from the old language. The castle would be able to hold out for a good while. No, it was the city itself that Meier worried about. The people would be evacuated inside the castle, leaving their homes and markets to be looted and burned. The razing of Targov would be a disaster. He just hoped they got there in time. It was going to be c lose.
6 The March and the Raid
K ing Wold made a bold decision based on Meier’s advice that the Karavunians would not attack. If the defense of Targov were to be successful, the incapacitated wounded must not slow the advance of the infantry. Wold opted to stay behind with these and a small force, making their way to the capital at their own pace. With a heavy heart, Meier bid his father goodbye and set out at the best speed the men could muster. After a hard day’s walking, the infantry finally camped and collapsed at nightfall. The walking wounded that could still fight were in particularly bad shape. It got Meier thinking. What good was it to arrive and then be too tired to fight? Chances were good that they would be outnumbered, possibly by a large percentage. It vexed him so that it became hard to think, let alone sleep. When he finally did fall asleep, he dreamed of nothing but defeat. It was then that it struck him. There might be some hope after all. He got up and left his tent. The sun was about to rise in an hour. The men were dead to the world. Fine , he thought. They had another hard day ahead. But as for Meier, he had a different plan for himself. He told his infantry generals that he would meet them before they got to Targov. They seemed confused. He explained it to them.
“There are around ten decent-sized villages between here and Targov,” he said. Yes, they knew that. “These villages are not aware of the situation in Targov.” Still they didn’t follow him. “So I’m
“Yes, my lord!” they said, saluting. Meier had another one of his feelings. Things were about to get dire. There was no avoidin g it.
The men moved out early in the morning, as they had been commanded. The sun had not yet peeked over the horizon, and the men were yawning and stumbling their way across the countryside. Despite this, they moved with purpose. Now it was their homeland that they were defending. The thought of the Gunar flag being raised in Targov was more than they could bear. They pushed themselves despite their obvious fatigue. The cavalry had long since faded into the horizon, led by Meier’s brothers. He wished them luck, but in private, Meier disagreed with his father. It made poor sense to race ahead by dividing the forces. What was cavalry without infantry to support it? Still, he took comfort in one thing. The Karavunians were not about to mount an invasion of their own. He felt sure of it. They were not the type. As long as their land was safe, they would be satisfied. At least he hoped they would be. Just to be sure, Meier left behind extra scouts to watch the border at several places. The infantry generals seemed to think this was overcautious, but Meier politely overruled them. He was getting a bit more used to making command decisions. They fortified their stronghold at Colif still, but only as lightly as they d ared.
Meier thought of his poor mother. She was alone in command of a paltry thousand men against what had to be at least ten thousand men or more from Gunar. Luckily, the city of Targov was defensible. The royal castle had the age-old nickname that translated as “Hard Place” from the old language. The castle would be able to hold out for a good while. No, it was the city itself that Meier worried about. The people would be evacuated inside the castle, leaving their homes and markets to be looted and burned. The razing of Targov would be a disaster. He just hoped they got there in time. It was going to be c lose.
6 The March and the Raid
K ing Wold made a bold decision based on Meier’s advice that the Karavunians would not attack. If the defense of Targov were to be successful, the incapacitated wounded must not slow the advance of the infantry. Wold opted to stay behind with these and a small force, making their way to the capital at their own pace. With a heavy heart, Meier bid his father goodbye and set out at the best speed the men could muster. After a hard day’s walking, the infantry finally camped and collapsed at nightfall. The walking wounded that could still fight were in particularly bad shape. It got Meier thinking. What good was it to arrive and then be too tired to fight? Chances were good that they would be outnumbered, possibly by a large percentage. It vexed him so that it became hard to think, let alone sleep. When he finally did fall asleep, he dreamed of nothing but defeat. It was then that it struck him. There might be some hope after all. He got up and left his tent. The sun was about to rise in an hour. The men were dead to the world. Fine , he thought. They had another hard day ahead. But as for Meier, he had a different plan for himself. He told his infantry generals that he would meet them before they got to Targov. They seemed confused. He explained it to them.
“There are around ten decent-sized villages between here and Targov,” he said. Yes, they knew that. “These villages are not aware of the situation in Targov.” Still they didn’t follow him. “So I’m
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