When asked to describe The Last Coffle, I say that it’s The Magnificent Seven as an epic literary fantasy.
To tell you the truth, my version of this story has more in common with Akira Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai than it does with any of Hollywood’s many Magnificent Seven movies or The Three Amigos.
Kurasawa took his time telling his story and developing his characters. In homage to Kurasawa, I do the same in The Last Coffle. In homage to Hollywood, however, I also include some references to their original movies, such as the two included below — which fans are sure to recognize.
The section below is first narrative draft. It will go through many more drafts and is likely to change substantially before you see its final version.
In the meantime, consider this a teaser.
94 – STRATEGY (1st Narrative Draft)
The rain stopped. The sun came up. And a wet world began to dry. As dawn broke, temperatures plummeted causing ice to form along the edges of puddles. When the cows were milked and the eggs collected, they saddled their horses and rode into Old Mill to train. Those who needed help with the basics of balance would train with Tee Bo. Swordsmen would work with LT; archers with Scout.
“They want the day off so they can tend to their farms,” Amanda said to Vic, pulling her shawl tight against the bite of the breeze.
A week of winter rain had filled the ditches and low spots in the terraced fields. It had also assisted with completion of the moat at the foot of the palisade. Everything was muddy now. The sun was warming up to dry things out, but a lot of work lay ahead of it still. In the meantime, the crew gathering on the main road had to button up and tuck in their edges.
Vic arrived first. She came on foot. Her thick blue dragon hide was indifferent to weather and being early gave her time alone to survey and strategize. Scout, LT and Tee Bo arrived two fingers later. Three months of training side-by-side had welded them into a team accustomed to being together. Last to arrive, following a meeting with some of the farmers, were Amanda and John – together in their wagon, with Beni.
“Nobody knows if they will have farms to go home to or not once this is over,” Amanda continued to Vic. “But they have to look after things at home until the Demon Wood opens. When that happens, they will all move inside the palisade.”
“All of them?” Vic was surprised and pleased.
“No. Not all,” Amada corrected herself. “Just the ones who are with us.”
Vic scanned the area thoughtfully, imagining the scene three months from now. Many of the rice fields would be flooded, filled with water, impassible to horses, and closed to army camps. Farmers who chose to support the Company and keep their sluice gates closed would find their dry fields occupied, buried under an avalanche of tents and wagons. Five hundred deputies, three to four hundred horses, wagons, fires, stacks of supplies, army camps, and latrines would dominate the landscape and leave deep scars for many years to come. She wondered how many of those supporting the other side would be plundered by the undisciplined rabble coming to save slavery.
Looking at Beni, she could see he was thinking exactly the same thing.
“They won’t listen,” he replied to her troubled gaze. “Nothing we say is going to change their minds.”
The mill, the sawmill, the lumber yard, and the smithy were all laid out in the space between the main road and the river bank opposite the palisade. These – and the homes on their properties – would likely face the same fate as the surrounding farms. Vic wondered if Smitty would choose to stay outside with the Company’s deputies or move inside the palisade and fight with Old Mill.
“They’ll send scouts,” Vic said, turning to face the gate and addressing the purpose of their conclave. “The scouts will see some changes.”
“Civic improvements,” LT rationalized.
“They’ll see a palisade,” Vic continued.
“Looks like a good one, too,” Beni responded. “Dwarf-built,” he added proudly, drawing a chuckle from his friends.
“Made of wood, though,” LT noted. “Might burn.”
“Lots of water around,” Vic replied. “Town’ll be prepared for that.”
“Water doesn’t work on magical fire,” LT noted.
“Oh, lord,” Beni shook his head. “Humans with fire magic. End times, when that happens.”
“There is a gate, though,” John said, jumping enthusiastically into the roleplaying.
“Yep,” said Vic. “Drawbridge, too. Moat. Porcullis.”
“Don’t forget the barbican on the inside,” Beni reminded them.
“Would they see that?” John asked.
“If the gate’s open,” Beni nodded.
“That’s not an easy entry,” Vic pointed out.
“There’s space between the wall and the moat,” said John, pointing.
“Just a toe hold,” Vic observed. “Anybody stands there is gonna pay for it.”
“We could hack our way through the bridge deck?” John suggested, uncertainly.
“Hard to do that from the toe hold,” said Vic. “Even if we get through, there’s a steel portcullis behind it.”
“And a barbican on the other side of that,” Beni added, grinning.
“What’s a barbican?” Amanda asked, unclear about Beni’s meaning.
“It’s basically a big cage inside the gate,” the dwarf clarified.
“Anybody who gets through the gate enters the cage,” Vic explained, “allowing us to attack them from all four sides.”
Amanda nodded, comprehending the challenge facing would-be invaders.
“Might be easier to go through a side wall,” John offered, suggesting a workaround. “Maybe over here on the left.”
The entire group moved their focus to the left side of the town before them. “The high ground back there protects the left,” Vic cautioned, pointing out the bluff behind the left corner of the palisade. “We would have to go through the flooded field to take the high ground. We’d be wide open to archers all the way there.”
“Most of our guys would be dead before they got to the high ground,” Beni observed, stroking his beard thoughtfully.
“What about the right side?” Scout asked, clucking her horse and leading the group down the road past the drawbridge.
“The high ground on the right side is near the main road,” Vic observed. “It’s easier to get to than the left side.”
“The high ground on this side covers the gate as well as the right side wall,” Beni added.
“So it would be wise to take this bluff first,” Scout stated.
“It’s a good plan,” Vic agreed. “If we take the right side bluff, we have options. We can take the gate or cut through the right side wall. Either way, we can break through the palisade and take the town.”
“It’s pretty high ground,” Tee Bo lifted her chin, regarding the summit.
“Steep, too,” said Beni.
“We might be able to get above it,” Vic suggested.
John shook his head in denial. “That would be extremely difficult. To get above that bluff, you would have to scale some much steeper ground.”
The bluff to the right was located at the end of a sharp ridge descending from the top of the mountain range. It overlooked both the glacier stream flowing down through the bowl and the Cold River into which it flowed not far from the corner of the palisade. The part of the ridge that formed the bluff was covered in everwood forest that thinned out as it dribbled into Old Mill.
“If we were elves, we could come in through the canopy and attack the bluff from above,” Scout pointed out.
“Fortunately, for the town,” LT noted, “the elves are not involved in this fight.”
“Could they brute force the bluff?” John asked.
“There will be orcs defending it,” said Tee Bo.
“Dwarves, too,” added Beni.
“But if they attack in shifts and if we are outnumbered, they will eventually wear us down,” Tee Bo stated factually.
A solemn silence fell over the group as they pondered this reality. Their numbers were improving steadily, but the Company was bigger than any mountain village. How many farmers would join their fight? How many orcs would respond to Tee Bo’s drums? If the company came with everything, would Old Mill have enough?
“Looks like you have some friends coming, LT,” Tee Bo said, causing the group to turn and look down the road.
Four men on horseback were riding casually in their direction. They were wearing the colors of the Granite Brotherhood. It would be a while before they arrived.
“If we lose the hill, they can unleash hell,” said John, returning everyone’s attention to the task at hand. “They’ll burn us out.”
“If they take the right side bluff, can we hold the gate?” Amanda asked, with obvious concern.
“Temporarily,” said Vic.
“And if we lose the gate?”
“If we lose the gate … we probably lose the town.”
“Then what?”
“Then we fall back to the citadel.”
“There’s only one way in and one way out of the citadel,” John observed warily.
“What about a back door?” asked Amanda, looking at Beni.
“Easy to build. Hard to defend,” Beni explained. “A second door gives them twice as many ways in, meaning we defend each door with half as many bodies.”
“Back doors make us weaker, not stronger,” Vic stated, closing further discussion on that issue.
“Citadels are built with two things in mind, my dear,” Beni explained to Amanda. “Survive until help arrives. Or give the people trapped in there the option of a merciful death.
A hush fell on the group as their imaginations churned with images of a citadel in its final tragic moments.
“How many deputies are we likely to face?” Amanda wanted to know.
“There could be four companies when they leave the chateau,” Vic answered. “Plus reserves.”
“Plus whatever comes from Eastbranch,” Beni reminded her.
“Four?” asked LT. “The keeps each have two. One always stays home. That’s three. What makes you think they’ll have four companies?”
“Just a guess,” Vic replied.
“Is that a lot?” Amanda asked.
“It’s north of 500 men,” Vic answered.
“Then we’re screwed,” John blurted. “One company takes the main gate. One takes each of the high grounds. One attacks from behind. They hold one company in reserve.”
“We have maybe … seventy five? … people,” Amanda calculated.
“We’ll have more than that before they get here,” Beni assured her.
“OK,” John accepted Beni’s speculation. “Even 150 is not enough to defend all four positions. They will wear us down. Even if we fight like heroes, they will wear us out eventually.”
“Bigger is not always better,” Vic said with calm confidence. “Bigger armies require better commanders.”
“It’s four to one,” John looked at Vic incredulously. “And their deputies are killers. We have seventy-five farmers and tradesmen.”
“Just like his father,” Beni chuckled, shaking his head. “Damn butchers. Always counting.”
“Even the strongest armies make mistakes, John,” Scout stated calmly. “Don’t count us out.”
“Don’t forget,” LT reminded him, “we have magic on our side. They don’t.”
Vic shook her head. “We have a very limited amount of magic,” she clarified. “Nora will have some surprises. I have a little magic. But magic alone won’t save us against those numbers.”
LT appeared immediately confused. “What about the druid everyone keeps talking about? Won’t she help?”
“Druids don’t fight wars, son,” Beni informed him.
“Not the good ones,” Vic noted.
“They will use magic to defend themselves,” Beni continued. “But if we asked a druid to come and join this fight, they would say no. They would advise us to leave.”
LT’s mouth gaped as he considered this new information.
“It would be nice if we could thin them out a little before they got here,” Tee Bo said thoughtfully.
“I’m sure Hunter is working on that,” Scout replied.
“He is,” Vic asserted. “They won’t get here with the same number they have when they leave the chateau.”
The horses nickered and turned their heads as new horses arrived to join the group.
“LT,” said the lead rider. “Good to see you, my brother. How’s goes the battle?”
“Just like the guy in the Tower of Torin,” LT replied with a smirk.
“So far so good?”
“So far so good,” LT nodded in agreement.
“Say,” the newcomer added, turning in his saddle to look down the road behind him. “You guys expecting a visit from some orcs?”
“Could be,” LT replied, looking to Tee Bo, who immediately stepped out and started down the road. “Why?”
“Probably a dozen of them headed this way. We passed them a while back.”