Rise of the Horde

The drum wall was the strangest tactic the campaign had produced, and the campaign had produced tactics that Threian military doctrine had no Chapter for.

Khao’khen ordered the troll specialist corps to construct forty war drums from materials that the Meren valley’s timber provided, the drums built to the specifications that the Ironmaw chanting tradition required: deep, resonant, capable of producing a sound that carried for miles and that vibrated in the chest cavity of anyone within a thousand paces.

He positioned the drums in a line across the valley road, spaced at twenty-pace intervals, each drum operated by a troll specialist whose only instruction was to maintain a continuous beat at the cadence of a resting heartbeat. Sixty beats per minute. No variation. No acceleration. No stopping.

The drumming began at dawn and continued through the day.

The sound was not the sound of war drums as the Threian military understood war drums.

War drums were aggressive, rhythmically complex, designed to intimidate and coordinate. These drums produced a single, unvarying tone at a single, unvarying frequency, the kind of sound that the body processed differently from the mind, the kind of sound that bypassed conscious attention and settled into the involuntary systems that regulated heartbeat and breathing and the delicate balance between alertness and rest.

The combined force’s forward positions reported the drumming within the first hour. The scouts who investigated reported forty drums and forty troll operators, undefended, positioned in the open without support. The drums were not weapons. The troll operators were not combatants in the conventional sense. The drumming had no tactical purpose that the scouts’ training allowed them to identify.

The drumming continued through the second hour. And the third. And the fourth.

The sound filled the valley with a presence that was not threatening and was not harmless and was something that the combined force’s experience had no category for. The sound was the sound of the earth’s heartbeat, if the earth had a heartbeat, steady and patient and impossible to ignore and impossible to resist. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

By the sixth hour, the combined force’s forward picket line was reporting a specific physiological effect that the soldiers staffing the pickets had not experienced before. The deep, continuous rhythm, at the frequency that the troll drums produced and at the cadence of a resting heartbeat, was producing a sympathetic resonance in the listeners’ bodies. Heart rates slowing to match the drums. Breathing deepening. The specific, involuntary relaxation that the body produced when exposed to a stimulus that matched its resting state, applied to soldiers who were supposed to be maintaining alert readiness at a forward observation post.

The picket soldiers were falling asleep. Not in the sudden manner of exhaustion. In the gradual, insidious manner of a body that was being told, by a sound it could not ignore, that the conditions were correct for rest.

Aldrath rotated the picket line twice during the first day. The rotation solved the immediate problem and created a new one: the rotation schedule, which had been designed around twelve-hour shifts, was now operating on four-hour shifts, which meant three times as many soldiers were being consumed by picket duty as the schedule had allocated.

* * * * *

"Thrak’dum gor," Vir’khan said, from the position where the old chieftain observed the drum wall’s effects with the quiet assessment that fifty years of continuous combat provided.

"The earth shakes, we charge. But the earth does not always shake with violence. Sometimes the earth shakes with the rhythm that puts things to sleep."

"The Stonecallers understood this," Khao’khen said. "The earth’s vibration is not always a weapon. Sometimes it is a lullaby. The pinkskins’ bodies know the difference even if their minds do not."

The drumming continued for three days. On the second day, Aldrath sent a cavalry force to destroy the drums. Khao’khen had anticipated this specific response and had positioned Haguk’s warg cavalry in the terrain behind the drum line, the wargs’ approach silent beneath the drumming that masked all other sound.

The cavalry force that rode toward the drums met four hundred and sixty wargs that emerged from the terrain’s folds at the distance where cavalry lances could not be lowered before contact. The engagement lasted twelve minutes.

The wargs’ psychological effect on the cavalry horses, the deep instinctive terror that horses experienced when confronted by predators that were faster than them at close range and whose riders were larger than the men on their backs, produced the specific chaos that Haguk’s operational planning had designed the position to produce. Horses reared, threw riders, bolted into the terrain where the wargs pursued them individually, the engagement dissolving from a military operation into the kind of predator-prey dynamic that no amount of cavalry training could fully override because the horses’ survival instincts were older than the humans’ tactical doctrine.

"GOR KRAGH!" The Stonecaller earth-strike cry erupted from the warg line as the engagement reached its peak, the combined sound of four hundred and sixty riders and four hundred and sixty wargs producing a wall of noise that the cavalry horses processed as the sound of the specific thing they had been bred to outrun and could not outrun because the specific thing was already among them.

The cavalry withdrew with sixty-eight dead. The drums were not damaged.

On the third day, the drumming stopped.

The silence was worse.

The combined force’s soldiers, who had spent three days unconsciously synchronizing their physiological rhythms to a stimulus that was now absent, experienced the specific disorientation that the sudden removal of a sustained stimulus produced. Heart rates that had been regulated by the drums became irregular. Sleep patterns that had been disrupted became chaotic. The forward picket line, which had adapted to the drumming by rotating on four-hour shifts, continued the four-hour rotation for two additional days before reverting to the standard schedule, the behavioral momentum of three days’ adaptation requiring time to discharge.

"Thrak’gul," Dhug’mhar said, applying the word to the combined force’s response with the specific warmth that the word carried when used to describe an enemy’s confusion. "Rock-brained pinkskins. They adapted to the drums and now they cannot un-adapt. Perfection has never seen twenty-five thousand soldiers confused by silence. Perfection is impressed, and Perfection is rarely impressed by things that are not Perfection."

"The drums consumed three days of their operational capacity and sixty-eight cavalry without a single formation engagement," Sakh’arran reported. "The picket rotation adjustment alone consumed twelve hundred additional soldier-days of duty. The cavalry loss further reduces their mounted strength. The cumulative drain since the new phase began is now four thousand two hundred soldier-days of lost operational capacity, two hundred and fourteen cavalry killed or wounded, and the complete destruction of the mage corps’ replacement equipment."

"And the six-week window?" Khao’khen asked.

"Four weeks and two days remaining."

"Then the drums were the first verse. The second verse begins tomorrow."

The Snarling Wolf above the market hall held the evening’s light, the banner’s position unchanged, the wolf’s expression unchanged. The wolf did not explain its methods. The wolf did not announce its intentions. The wolf simply acted, in the manner that wolves acted, with the combination of patience and ferocity that made wolves the predators that other predators respected.

The second verse would be louder.