Part Twelve: Losses
Chapter Forty
BROCK
"...put your arms forward like this," I instructed the little imperial scout, "then, when you're at the precipice, you want to open them like this," I motioned my arms outward, "and you'll just glide over the top. Did you get that?"
"W-w-w-what?!"
I rolled my eyes. "Practice it with me, little imperial. Ball." I crouched and hugged my knees, "Arrow." I shot up with my hands together overhead, "Eagle." I finished, spreading makeshift wings. "Ball, arrow, eagle. Ball, arrow, eagle. Ball, arrow, eagle. There, it's not so hard. Now, put these on, and this, and... oh, and put this on." I said, dropping a suit of heavy orc armor, four bags of sand, and a berserker helm.
The imperial gawked at what I'd laid at his feet, then began to put it on. The orc armor was much too big for him, even though it was the smallest I could find, and it rendered him unable to pick up the sandbags. I tied each fifty-pound sack to his torso and legs, then put the helm on him.
"There." I said, stepping back to admire my work, "Can you raise your arms?"
Shaking with the effort of it, the imperial managed to raise his arms, and the contraption flared like a fan from his armpits. It was my own design, and I was quite proud of it.
"Weight distribution's off." Trenok muttered beside me.
"Won't matter." I grunted, picking up the elf, "Once he's airborne, the only direction that matters is down."
"AIRBORNE?!" The imperial squeaked.
"You must be new to this sector." I chuckled, and placed the elf in the carriage of the catapult.
He tried to scramble out of it, and I palmed his entire head, and pushed him back in. "Remember," I said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "ball, arrow, eagle. When you get over the top, pull this cord," I handed him the cord that looped into the contraption, "and the parachute will engage. Many of your comrades have died so that you could succeed, little imperial." I gave him a grave look, "Make sure that their sacrifice is not in vain." And I pulled the lever.
He flew across the sky, tumbling in his ball shape.
"Come on..." I growled, watching him grow smaller before the imposing wall of the Highland Rift.
"He can't open his arms." Trenok grunted.
"He'll do it." I muttered. The little ball disappeared before the grey rock wall, then reappeared above it. "Arrow!" I shouted as though he could hear me. For a moment, the ball stayed the same, then I saw his arms struggle against the wind and weight of his armor, and become an arrow in the sky. "Eagle!" I yelled, and his arms opened, the wings catching the wind. He soared even higher, clearing the edge of the wall, his resplendent silhouette catching the sun to gleam like an iron bird in the sky. "Pull!" I cried in delight. He pulled the cord, the parachute unfurled, and the straps broke. He fell a hundred feet, flapping like a bird, then he crashed to the ground with a boom that could be heard across the meadow.
"Yes!" I roared victoriously, "Success! How do you like that, Trenok?!"
"The strapsβ"
"THE STRAPS CAN BE MADE STRONGER!" I yelled over him. I snatched the mirror at my hip, drew the sigil on it, and palmed it. Field Marshal Shordian came into view.
"Did you see that, old man?" I laughed.
"Have you run out of boulders to hurl at me?"
"
Have you run out of boulders to hurl at me?
" I laughed, "I'll have thousands of orcs flying over your head in no time at all!"
"An interesting choice of ammunition."
"They'll float like a feather right on top of you."
"Our archers could use the target practice."
"Your archers can suck my dick!" I roared, and palmed the mirror again.
Trenok smirked at me.
I scowled. "I don't need that ornery old bastard ruining my day."
"He's right though. His archers would only have to punch holes in the chutes, and the whole thing goes to shit."
"Attack at night during a siege and use the flying orcs as support. They drop into the fort when everyone's distracted and wreak havoc from the inside."
Trenok puzzled over the ridgeline. "If you think this will really work, then you would have to be the one to lead the raid. That is, assuming the queen ever gives you the go ahead."
"Yeah..." I grumbled.
A score of boulders suddenly ascended from atop the ridgeline. I sighed, and braced myself against the catapult. The rocks rained down on us, smashing into the ground, occasionally creating an explosion of timber when they struck an engine. They fell behind us, before us, and beside us; too great a range to run away from after launching a salvo, and too random to worry about becoming a target. It was a game of chance, and I was getting bored of it.
"Did you talk to her?" Trenok asked.
"You know she won't budge. Even as our losses mount, she refuses to change tactics."
"That's not what I was talking about."
I frowned at Trenok. "Now's not the time." I grunted.
"When will there be a better time than when you're the Froktora of a horde at war? You'll never be more important to her than now."
"Something you need to understand about womenβ"
"I'm married."
"So that makes you the fucking expert?" I growled, "Something you need to understand about women, is that emotional circumstance is everything. She's really stressed as of late, andβ"
"I can smell your vagina from here."
I shoved a finger in his face. "You used to live in my nuts,
boy,
and don't forget it."