"The God Wars" - Chapter Thirty-three: Trumpets over Atlantis

The God Wars

Chapter Thirty-three:

Trumpets over Atlantis

By Dwayne MacInnes

King Podaistas was readying his forces. Thousands of refugees had been flooding into the city for days now. They were all bringing news of the approaching army of Ares. Podaistas regretted not following through with modernizing his kingdom as he at first wanted. However, many Atlanteans felt that their northern neighbors were forgetting their heritage by embracing the Otherworlders' technology.

The one telegraph line that ran into the city of Atlantis, which connected it to Zakrostas, was silent. Its lines obviously cut. Therefore, the only messages King Podaistas could send north to the Republic of Atlantis were either by boat or on foot. The land couriers were more than likely captured and killed by Ares' army and the uniremes came back reporting of a terrible storm raging over their northern neighbor prohibiting them from making landfall.

Nonetheless, Podaistas did have some muzzle loading rifles President Greer sent south. His troops trained with the new weapons and knew how to use them proficiently. He also had some artillery pieces called cannons or Napoleons. These large and noisy artillery pieces could fire an iron ball for many hundreds of yards.

Regardless, of these modern pieces of equipment Podaistas feared they would not suffice against the undead horde marching down towards his city. The king could see from the tower that he was perched upon the smoked clouded horizon to the northeast as Ares' forces burned everything in their way. It was evident that the gods wanted to erase all traces of humanity from their realm.

The city of Atlantis relied on the three rings of canals that surrounded parts of the kingdom's capital as its main defense. Fortunately, King Podaistas received some help by constructing a few fortresses outside the city with trench works connecting them together. The military forces of the king now manned these.

"A scout rides in, sire," one of the traditionally garbed soldiers informed the king. King Podaistas followed the man's finger to see a lightly dressed soldier in a modern uniform with a rifle slung on his back riding his horse hard back to the city. The people did adopt the Otherworlders' technology of a modern saddle and stirrup. These greatly improved horse handling and allowed the riders to fight more effectively.

"I will meet him at the gate," King Podaistas informed the soldier. The king swung around and his red cape flew in the air. He dressed in the bronze armor much like the soldier in the tower. The pair ran down the stairs to meet the scout.

Just as the king approached, the scout had just reigned in his sweaty mount, which was covered in foam. The soldier exhausted from hard riding swung out of the saddle and landed on the ground in front of the king. The scout put his right hand in a fist over his heart in a salute and bowed his head to his monarch.

"I bring grave news, sire," the scout announced.

"Out with it, man!" Podaistas exclaimed.

"Ares' army will be here in the morning," the soldier panted. "They are burning every village and field on their way south. The roads are clear of human traffic so it looks like all the refugees are here that are going to make it."

"Not enough time," King Podaistas grunted. His bodyguards stood at attention as the monarch paced in front of the scout. Even if he had a year, King Podaistas realized that he still would not have enough time. He needed to modernize his country, he had not, and now it was too late. In the morning, the trumpets on the eastern towers will announce the arrival of Ares' forces and the best he could hope for was that his men would fight valiantly enough that even the gods would remember them.

The king called for one of his aides. A man in armor ran over to the king. "Yes sire?" the aide asked.

"How many rifle units do we have?" the king asked. He knew the answer but he asked again anyway.

"Not enough I fear. The fortresses and trenches are manned with every rifle unit we have. We have also positioned our artillery on the nearby hills outside the city."

The king slapped his hands to his thigh in frustration. "We have plenty of reserves. How are they situated?"

"Sire, many of the reserve units are in the trenches and fortresses with the rifle units. We have pulled some back to fill holes where the enemy may break through and the remaining militia units will be in the city as a last ditch effort."

"That is the best we could hope for," Podaistas replied solemnly.

"Sire, when should we begin evacuating the citizens from the city?"

Podaistas frowned. There simply were not enough boats to carry everyone away, especially now that refugees packed the city. To start evacuating the city right now could lead to riots and Podaistas needed his troops on the front lines instead of quelling citizens fighting in the streets over who was going to leave on boat.

"I have sent the ships out to sea. There will be no evacuations. This shall be our last stand," Podaistas replied grimly.

"Sire?" the aide asked.

"Plus, it'll give our men more incentive to fight if they know that they cannot retreat. No, as I said we either win or die here!" the king exclaimed smacking his right fist into his open left hand.

The aide merely nodded and stepped back from his grim monarch. The king stroked his beard nervously. He did not like the straits he was in but there was little choice. His only ally the gods had trapped in the north. Podaistas did not even know if President Greer or General Crist knew that Ares was marching on Atlantis. He figured that they knew Ares was on the march. Surely some refugees had fled north despite the terrible rainstorm raging there. Perhaps, some of the fleeing villagers made it to Zakrostas. They would have brought the terrible news that Ares was again on the march and this time he had released the dead upon the land.

As Podaistas paced pondering these thoughts a loud trumpet call broke over the city. It was the call of warning. Podaistas cursed, the scout said that Ares would arrive in the morning. It appeared that the god of war must have picked up the pace of his march and now arrived early.

The trumpet continued the call and soldiers ran towards the city walls and trenches. Civilians cried out in fear and retreated to the central island on the city of Atlantis. They ironically gathered in the old temple established for Poseidon seeking sanctuary.

"Courage men!" cried the king. "We shall remind the gods that even mortal men can die well!"