(PTII)Defenders of Middle Earth: A Middle Earth Story(Book 4)

Chapter 22: Counterattack

"M'lord, we cannot advance further! They have us trapped!" A nearby captain shouted as arrows whizzed overhead King Brand's head. Their forces had advanced far, wiping out the enemy in the first three lines of trenches. The fighting had been brutal, and the Easterlings had made the Dalemen and dwarves pay in blood for every inch of ground they took. The first trench had been seized relatively quickly, but Haradrim reinforcements had bogged them down in the second trench, drawing out the fight for most of the day. 

It was now dusk, and still there was no sign of it letting up. Many of the Easterlings had fallen back, but now that it was dark the orc forces of the Sorceress had taken their places. They fought with the strength of fresh soldiers, while the men and dwarves of the Free Peoples were exhausted from a long day of fighting. Brand knew that it was only a matter of time before the enemy made a counterattack into the trenches, and when that happened... Well, it was inevitable that his men would be forced back, possibly beyond the point of recovery. 

"Give the order to dig in, we cannot retreat now," Brand said grimly, surveying the bloody ground in front of the trench. A company of heavily armored dwarves had attempted to move up to the fourth trench, only to be met with withering arrow and crossbow bolt fire. It had been a horrible sight, for every single dwarf was cut down almost immediately. Brand could hear the faint moaning of several who still lived, even though it had now been several hours. The healers would not risk going to their aid, for the enemy was indiscriminate in who they killed. 

He could see several of them in a small room built into the trench, working desperately to save a wounded Daleman. Several men and dwarves waited outside, each of them injured in some way. One man had a bloodied bandage covering both eyes, and one of the dwarves was cradling the stump where his leg once was. There were too few healers... If the fighting continued on much longer, many men would die from loss of blood or infection. Brand wondered if the situation was any better for the enemy. 

He turned and picked his way carefully down the trench, stepping over the mangled bodies that hadn't yet been thrown over into no-mans-land. His boots sank deep into the mud, which was tinted dark red with blood. He passed several soldiers on his way, their hollow, haunted gazes following him as he went by. The light of a full moon made them look pale and ghostly; He gave an involuntary shudder and quickly looked away. He had ordered them to stay awake and battle-ready, and already his choice had affected them for the worse. They were already tired from a long day of fighting, and he had no doubt they resented him for denying them a night of rest. But the enemy was less than a hundred yards away; They couldn't afford to let up their guard. 

The dwarves, for the most part, were encamped on the side of the trench closest to the gates, but they fared little better. Most of them huddled in small groups, grumbling among themselves as pipesmoke rose above them. Though they didn't look nearly as exhausted as the men, many of them were asleep, and those that weren't leaned on their weapons for support. Brand shook his head. They weren't ready for the enemy. If the Easterlings launched a counterattack, the dwarves would be ill-prepared to defend against it. 

He found Dain in a wooden dugout, where most of his strongest warriors had gathered to plan their next move. 

"Ah, Brand! Come in, come in, this information is important to you as well!" Dain said, waving the king in. Gloin and Dwalin both gave slight bows, and the other dwarves followed suit. 

"We can't rightly continue the assault through the night," Dain began with a huff. "The boys are tired, they won't do much more good out there. But when dawn comes... That's when we'll move." 

"Half of your men are asleep," Brand replied somewhat angrily. "What if the enemy-"

Suddenly a cry rose from far down the trench.