Councils of War

“They’ve been holed up for a week now, and haven’t come out since. We know that the Red Legs would be expecting reinforcements soon, and we haven’t been able to get ‘em out of that fort. What we’re gonna do?”

The young frontiersman, name of Hack Jones, had just spoken at the local council house. It was a valid point. The men in Ralph and Sunshine outnumbered the Red Legs in the fort. That was their only advantage. The Red Legs were all veterans and better armed. So, man to man, it was a straight up fight. The leadership factor and the defensive strength of the position tipped it in favor of the Red Legs. ‘Well, at least until we got here’, thought Tanner.

A couple of the other men of the town voiced their concerns. Pretty much, it was a replay of the first argument. Others, mainly young ones, agitated for an all assault on the fort. Foolishness. Sometimes, Tanner hated council meetings. Get to the damn point, and leave the idiocy to the bar. Most men could not. Finally, he had enough.

Tanner spoke. “We came down to Sunshine to get rid of this Red Leg fort, not dicker around the council hall. I could have done that in Brown’s Ferry, and the arguments would have been better. We also didn’t come down here to run head first into a barrage of arrows. If you want the Red Legs to stay, we’ll leave. If not, then be quiet and get out.”

No one moved. “Okay”, Tanner said, “this is what we are gonna do. Anyone who doesn’t want to fight, get out of here”.

“Hack is right. Those Red Legs aren’t going to come out of that fort. We don’t have anything that’ll make them come out of their own free will. But if they’re too tired to fight it won’t matter. “

A lumpy young man spoke up, “How are we gonna tire ‘em out?”

Tanner spoke. “I was raised on a farm, just like the ones here. The one thing that would drive you nuts was storm that wouldn’t end. Cooped up inside, you couldn’t get anything done and you couldn’t get any rest. By the next day or so, you’re pretty worn out”.

“None of ya’ll look like one of them air mages. I’ve never even seen one. How you gonna make it rain?” said the lumpy young man.

Tanner shifted his standing. “Well, Lump, I can't make it rain. But I do plan to keep them from sleeping. Another thing that’ll keep you awake is a big smoky fire. If the smoke gets in your eyes and lungs, you can’t breathe and you can’t rest. Same thing with someone bashing on the door or throwing acorns at you while you’re trying to nap.”

Lump snorted. “So you wanna go build a campfire in Fort Necessity, sing some songs, roast sausages, and throw acorns at each other, while someone knocks on the door?”

Tanner shot him an icy stare, and Lump sat down. “No, I aim to burn that fort, make them think we’re coming over the wall, and put enough arrows in there to keep them honest”.

“We’ll post archers around the corners of the fort. Sgt. Klug here will head that detachment up. The idea is to keep them off the tops of the walls so they can’t shoot back easily. Klug’s pretty darn accurate with a long bow. If you can shoot half as good as Klug here, then we’ll be in good shape.”

“That’s part of the equation. Another is making the red Legs think we’re coming over the wall at anytime. Faolan over there will be taking small parties of you all on runs against the wall. You won’t go over the wall, but you will be dousing it with lighted pitch to get that pile of kindling on fire. If any of them comes out, Faolan will make them wish they hadn’t come out, and not just with his singing.”

Lump looked at Tanner. “That all sounds good, but it isn’t enough. We need something to put us over the top”. The other men in the room murmured in agreement. This plan wasn’t bad, but there wasn’t anything that could take care of the wall. Not to mention if casualties got out of hand. The villagers couldn’t take too many casualties, and the Red Legs skill would ensure fewer casualties for them.

‘Lump’, said Tanner, ‘you’re beginning to sound sensible. What’s wrong with you? No, we’ve got two other advantages. Annah knows something of healing. A lot of something. She’s healed me more often than I care to admit.”

The crowd started to murmur in approval. ‘ And we have one more trick in store for the Anglian bastards. Meet me out on the green in a few moments.”

The men came out and saw what looked like an overized crossbow on wheels. A few laughed , others had a bemused look on their faces. Only one person didn’t. It was an old man, scarred in the face. He was a veteran. ‘If that’s what I think it is, it might do some good. Does it work?”

“You’re about to see” said Tanner, with a sly grin on his face.

Tanner and Klug lined the machine up at one end of the green. They aimed it at a heap of scrap wood about 170 yards away. The crowd looked on in wonder as Klug daubed an oversize arrown in pitch and loaded it. The crowd gasped when Tanner set it on fire. They then relased the draw on the machine. A flaming bolt flew out and struck the pile of wood. Within a minute, the pile was ablaze, and some of the boards were pinned to the ground. Everyone but the old man was shocked. The old man had a grin to match Tanner’s.

‘This is The Copperhead. It’s our second advantage."