'Why would they build such a fortification just to protect some farms and granaries?' The Polemarch was incensed by the absurdity of the notion. 'Look around; there is nothing in miles around it- no farmlands, no settlements, nothing', he almost yelled. The spies made one last timid effort: 'But all we have seen are farmlands, workshops, granaries, and stables.' Then, to add credence to their reports, they added, 'We have seen soldiers too, hundreds of them.' The Polemarch just snorted in annoyance. The council sat in silence for a while. Nondon Kanon stood far, far away from the well-trodden routes, and only a handful of travellers and traders have ever set foot inside it. Most wondered at the audacity of building a settlement in such a lonesome and harsh place and marvelled at the rich dividend it paid. 'You know' the Deb Rokkhi general spoke calmly, 'you can set camps for soldiers on those very farmlands, and the stables can house horses instead of cattle'. 'How many' the Polemarch asked quietly. 'Five thousand, maybe ten thousand' the general replied calmly. An uneasy quietness descended; everyone was looking at the huge fortification and its stout defenses, and imagining the thousands of soldiers waiting for them. The Polemarch sighed softly. When they started, he was expecting an army of ten thousand, and the combined strength of his legion and the Deb Rokkhi, three times the number of his enemies, promised a swift rout. Now, at least numerically, both sides seemed to be evenly matched. Strangely, instead of frustration, the Polemarch was feeling thrilled; there was going to be a battle after all.
The scouting team of a dozen Deb Rokkhi soldiers approached Nondon Kanon buoyantly. Though they could see hundreds of soldiers manning the battlement, even the best archers couldn't hit a target beyond a hundred yards. 'Some of them must return to tell the tale', the Second Prince muttered softly. Suborna sighed softly, and as she raised her bow she remembered the soft mutterings of an elderly general at the garrison of Nisorgo nearly five years ago. She smiled softly as she let three arrows fly in quick succession. 'Tch' she muttered softly as one of the arrows missed its mark; by now the scouts were darting back to their camp carrying the two who had fallen. The Second Prince surveyed the scene with satisfaction. 'They will have to cross this distance under their shields; it would be uncomfortable'. His voice was sombre. Gone was his soft, dreamy gaze as he held the scene in a cold, calm stare. Nondon Kanon too had changed beyond recognition; the harvested fields laid bare, the workshops were silent, the deserted streets only had occasional patrols, and on the battlement, thousands of soldiers stood in quiet resolution. 'Didn't I tell you not to go near the walls?' a mid-ranking commander yelled at the scouting party. 'We were nearly three hundred yards away', one of the soldiers mumbled. After moments of eerie silence, the commander rushed to the generals' tent to update them. 'Surely they can't shoot that far all the time', he said in conclusion. The Deb Rokkhi general let out a mirthless laughter that sent chills down his subordinates. 'None of you can shoot over a hundred yards. They shot three to three hundred yards, they have sent a message.'
The Polemarch was wrong though; they still had numerical superiority. Warriors, in their thousands, from Jongol Mohol, Omoraboti, and Nilambori have rallied to Nondon Kanon. But the alliance of the Bhoomi Sontan (children of the earth) was many thousands fewer than their adversaries. Both the Dev Rokkhi and the Shetango armies are comfortable attacking in a large, unbroken column, mowing down the enemies in their wake. But here, they faced a dilemma. The massed army on the open field was a tempting target. The war-elephants would lead the charge, breaking the enemy phalanx into pieces and creating chaos and terror. The Merkava and the Tempesta would follow, scything down the fragmented and disorganized troops. Finally, the infantry would mop up whatever pockets of resistance that would still remain. The rout would be complete before the day's end. But their flank would certainly be attacked by the soldiers from the fortress; creating chaos, slowing them down, and potentially stymieing the onslaught. If they leave a large enough force to protect the flank, the assault might lack the punch it needs. They can rage the fortress down instead. But it would be a daunting task. The Merkava and the Tempesta would be useless, and the ditches around it mean the elephants can only attack the gates, and undoubtedly, those gates will be heavily defended. And all the while, they will have to fight off the enemy attacking their rear. The most practical option was the most unsavoury one too; they would have to divide their forces and attack the fortress and the massed army simultaneously.
That was exactly what The King wanted. Even with years to prepare and even with some staunch friends, he knew that the adversaries would be unmatched in strength and in numbers. Instead, he prepared to fight the juggernaut with wit and grit. Orco had brought valuable information about both the Shetango and the Deb Rokkhi armies, and with his help, a spy network was created that kept supplying the King and his council with information on the developments in the west. They used those information well and planned and prepared with care. 'Which route would they take?' the King had wondered many years ago. The venerable Senapoti pondered over the map for long minutes. 'There are only three possible routes' he had said finally. 'They can cross Ruposi here', he put his finger at the upper reaches of the river, 'conquer Omoraboti', he drew an arc across the land, 'and cross Ruposi again', his finger stopped at the lower reaches of the river. 'But for a large army, crossing a large river twice is very inconvenient, specially considering there are very few places suitable for landing of a large army', he stopped for a moment. 'Their fleet can attack Nisorgo and try landing there', he dragged his finger through the river to the port-city. 'But their fleet will be attacked and many ships will be lost; besides, the landing of a large force will be almost impossible against the resistance from our forces.' He took a moment again. 'But on these hard plain grounds, their forces will move swiftly and without hindrance', he dragged his finger from Chandni across the northern plains.
The Polemarch and the General were planning carefully too. The assault on the main army now has to be done without the mopping up by the infantry. But nearly a hundred war-elephants and twenty thousand soldiers of Merkava, Tempesta, and Deb Rokkhi cavalry were still an ominous force. The Polemarch decided to keep the lightly armoured Deb Rokkhi cavalry at the rear and lead the charge with his Merkava and Tempesta. The storming of the fortress was more tricky. A dozen war-elephants and ten thousand Deb Rokkhi infantry were assigned for this. The plan was simple, the elephants would break the gates down and the soldiers would rush in. But the General knew that it would be far from simple and an extremely gruelling job, one that would possibly last the whole day. The soldiers would have to cross three hundred yards under the cover of their shields and it would be uncomfortable. The masses of soldiers at the gates would create a bottleneck, and no doubt the defenders would concentrate their efforts there to stop the assault. Those who would manage to get in would have to defend themselves from the bowmen on the battlement and fight the enemy formations on the ground. The elephants would be useful in clearing the way for a time being, but a dozen elephants wouldn't last long against thousands of soldiers. Every yard would be fought tenaciously and thousands would die. The General ordered grappling hooks and ropes, once the gates were crashed, soldiers would scale the walls from all sides; even if they weren't successful, they would keep the bowmen busy.
As the dawn broke, hundreds of war-horns bellowed in the enemy camp. Hundreds of drums boomed in reply on the other side of the river. The battle has begun in earnest.
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