03 - Call to Arms Read Online Free Page A

animal; too much the old soldier
to speak gladly to fools or play the dirty business of politics. Perhaps I was
foolish in this. Certainly, at that moment, finding I was forced to endure long
days of enforced inactivity while the land I loved was in peril, I had reason to
regret some of my past actions. But wishes are the same as the dedications on
tombstones: heartfelt they may be, but they can do little to change what has
already been done.
    Naturally, I did my best to reverse my exile. From the instant I heard of the
orc invasion, I fired off letters sent by messenger to the Count and his staff,
offering my service in whatever capacity was deemed necessary. The response was
always the same. My pleas were returned with felicitations as to the state of my
health, alongside assurances my services were no longer needed.
    I should enjoy my leisure, the messages said. Let other men take up the
strain of battle; I had earned my retirement through years of hard campaigning.
It was time to let younger men put their shoulders to the stone.
    I recognised the sardonic handiwork of some of my rivals in these messages,
in the way they said one thing while they meant another.
    Don’t bother us, von Grahl, was the real message hidden between the lines.
Your time is over, old man. Good riddance, we no longer need you.
    And so, while war raged through northern Hochland, while her people were
slaughtered, I found there was nothing I could do.
    Of course, I followed the progress of the war as well as I could. Old habits
die hard. In my study there was a full set of maps of Hochland and the
surrounding provinces, left over from my campaigning days. As news, rumours and
reports came from the front, I made marks and notations on my maps, trying to
keep some sense of how the war was going.
    I was helped in this regard by the fact I still maintained some friends at
court. There were a few old warhorses like myself, still in positions of
command, who had not as yet been put out to pasture. By drawing on these
friendships, I was even able to wheedle out the occasional piece of privileged
information. I might be unable to have any effect on the campaign, but I was
better informed than most.
    Not that it helped my mood, not any of it. In particular, I found myself
concerned when I heard Count Aldebrand had decided to appoint General Erich von
Nieder to command the campaign against the greenskins.
    I knew von Nieder of old. The two of us had clashed many times over the years
on matters of tactics, strategy, protocol, even coming close to fighting a duel
once, many years ago. I had always regarded the man with disdain. To my mind, he
was cast from the same mould as many of the unctuous toadies who spent their
lives trying to gain influence at the Elector’s court. I viewed him as an
arrogant blowhard who had risen to his office on the back of political
manoeuvrings rather than through any real skill as a general.
    Unfortunately, no one was interested in my opinions on such matters. Forced
to follow the progress of the war from afar, I could only hope von Nieder proved
me wrong. With the future of Hochland at stake, I had to trust von Nieder’s
abilities and hope he could deal with the crisis.
    Otherwise, I feared the worst…

 
 
CHAPTER ONE
DANGERS OF THE ROAD
     
     
    “Make yourself comfortable,” the cart driver had told him once the money
changed hands. “We’ve a long journey northwards and you might as well make the
best of it.”
    Three weeks later, as the cart jolted through the latest in a long series of
potholes, Dieter Lanz remembered the words with a certain ill-humour. Within a
few hours of the journey beginning, Dieter had learned an important lesson of
travel: there is no comfortable place in the back of a goods cart. Much less in
one piled high with supplies being transported to provision the army currently
at camp in the northern forests.
    Granted, like the other carts in the caravan, there