AN: If you like what you are reading, you can help by giving my novel Rating.
Orin rode back into the temporary camp, where his half of the army was using as a launching point for their ambush attacks. But this time, instead of entering camp triumphant with the blood of his enemies splattered on his armor, it was his own blood spilled on his armor.
Earlier in the day, his scouts found tracks of people entering the territory he was guarding. So he rallied his men, thinking it was another tribe that was pressganged into pushing into the contested land. It was not.
He had expected their newest prey to be a small gathering of warriors from some tribe on the fringe of the Rising Horn tribe's territory with barely any decent arms or armor. What he found instead was a well-disciplined group of scouts wearing the Rising Horn tribe's colors, pushing into their territory, not knowing that they were already in enemy territory.
By the time Orin recognized these facts, both groups had already spotted each other, and it was too late to pull back. And why should he? Orin and his men were mounted, while the enemy scouts were on foot. So he commanded a charge to overrun the enemy.
By the end of the skirmish, the enemy had been crushed, but he had gotten an arrow to an unarmored part of his shoulder.
As he sat in his camp and let one of the medicine men extract the arrow from his shoulder, he reflected on his most recent encounter and realized that he had made a grave mistake by getting too used to running roughshod over undisciplined enemies.
The scouts he had recently encountered did not panic at his charge and reacted with practiced ease. Their front-line warriors spread out so that they would not be all taken out in one charge, while their archers drew their arrows without panic and took aim, only releasing them and jumping out of the way at the last moment.
If this was the caliber of enemy he needed to face from now on, Orin knew he had to fight a lot more conservatively if he was to delay the enemy for his father's arrival. He could only hope that Voro was doing better than he was.
***
Voro was indeed doing better. Unlike Orin, who had to set up camp in a relatively flat wooded area, Voro managed to capture enough territory to find a small ravine that served as a choke point. He decided to make camp there to launch ambushes. If anyone wanted to enter the contested land, they would have to either go through the ravine where his camp was camouflaged along the ravine wall or take a long detour that brought them closer to Alliance territory.
This lets Voro have the drop on anyone traveling through the ravine. And as it just so happened, Voro's scouts that had outposts camouflaged along the walls noticed about a hundred men wearing Frozen Fang tribe colors make camp for the night at the entrance to the ravine. This gave Voro a whole night to plan and make preparations for an ambush come morning when the Frozen Fang tribe warriors march again.
The next day, the Frozen Fang tribe warriors marched into the ravine, and as good warriors do, they kept their eyes up to keep a lookout for any ambush and even sent scouts to the top of the ravine to keep overwatch as they marched.
What the main body of marching Frozen Fang tribe warriors did not know was that Voro was expecting the scouts acting as lookouts. As the scouts made their way to the top of the ravine and out of sight from the main body of warriors, those scout groups were ambushed by archers hidden in bushes, buried under dried leaves, or simply concealed behind trees.
Voro's archers made short work of the scouts by turning them into pincushions before they could so much as shout a warning. The archers quickly rushed the enemy scouts and started stripping them of their clothes and armor. Some of them were still alive and gasping their last breaths as they were being stripped.
The archers washed what blood they could from their captured clothes and armor and donned them before continuing in the same direction the dead scouts were previously going.
Voro's archers in disguise walked along the top of the ravine while acting as 'overwatch' for the Frozen Fang tribe warriors below, and answering that all was clear whenever the warriors below asked if there was any danger ahead.
When the Frozen Fang tribe warriors were halfway into the ravine, the archers in disguise unsling their bows and nocked arrows, but out of all the arrows, one of them was a whistling arrow. When the whistling arrow was loosed, it screeched across the sky, echoing in the ravine, spooking the Frozen Fang tribe warriors down below, making them form up with their shields up.
At the same time, the archers in disguise started raining arrows down on the warriors. The commander of the Frozen Fang tribe warriors started shouting commands for an orderly retreat while holding his shield up to defend himself from arrows, but what came next could not be blocked by mere wooden shields.
At the signal of the whistling arrow, boulders and loose rocks from the ravine wall were pried, pushed, or tossed off to drop into the formation of Frozen Fang tribe warriors. Each of those falling death had Voro's men either hiding behind or camouflaged near it.
The rocks and boulders tumbled down the ravine walls, sometimes hitting at a wide angle, sending the boulder flying directly into the middle of the enemy formation, while those that rolled down all the way from the sides smashed through shields and crushed the men in their path.
When the last boulder was pushed and the rock thrown, Voro's war cry echoed through the ravine, and his men popped out from their hiding spots to either shoot arrows from their hiding spots above, or came down into the ravine to cut them off from the front and the rear.
After that, it was a simple matter to crush the surrounded enemy.
After every enemy warrior was dead, they dug through the debris to loot the bodies. When they got to the damaged supply wagons, one of the commanders under Voro saw the contents of the wagon and sent someone for Voro.
When Voro arrived, he saw his commander rummaging through the contents of the wagon. "Report." Voro said.
The commander looked back at Voro and said, "With all the supplies they got here, I think that we just defeated an advance party. They got more tools and supplies here than is normal for a bunch of warriors to bring. I think they are here to build a fortified camp that they can launch attacks from." the commander replied while tilting a barrel of heavy wood chopping axes and food supplies for Voro to see.
Voro pondered the implications of this finding. If they could afford to send more than a hundred men just to set up a forward base camp, that means that they should be expecting a lot more reinforcements to flow in, and chances are that the enemy would bring enough manpower to easily overrun them.
After a moment of thinking, his eyes fell on the tools from the supply wagon, and an idea came to him. He turned to his men and shouted. "Get these wagons repaired immediately! We are going to use the same tactics against the enemy and build a forward base of our own!" Voro said as he pointed to where the enemy came from.
In a smaller voice that was drowned out by his men cheering, "I just hope father makes it in time."
***
"Mmmh! Pap! Mmmh! Pap! Mmmh! Pap! Mmmh!"
Those were the sounds that were bouncing around Grud's custom wagon, but its highly customized interior made it more like a horse-drawn camper van.
Those sounds were the sounds of Mita's moans that were muffled by the pillow she was hugging and burying her face into, while Grud held her up by her thighs as he rammed his monster of a cock into her pussy all the way to the hilt, all while his titanic balls slapped against her cumflated belly.
Soon, he could not hold back any longer and busted another fat nut into Mita's already extremely bloated womb.
When the last rope of cum has been deposited into Mita's womb, he positions her passed-out body at the edge of the bed with her pelvis slightly over the edge, and put the cum bucket below to catch the cum that would soon pour out of her the moment he pulls out his cock. The cum bucket was to prevent having a mess on the bed, which was harder to clean up while on the move, and it was also something nice for Mita to drink when she woke up.
After pulling out his cock and making sure that the cum flowing out of Mita did not hit the floor, Grud went to lie down on the bed and let Mita's head rest on his abs while his prehensile dick sought out Mita's mouth.
As he lay down and felt Mita unconsciously take his cock in his mouth to do an after-service clean up, he thought back on their weeks of travel. Much the same thing that happened to Grud as it happened to Orin, except on a larger scale.
The moment the word got out that Grud was the one leading the army, many men who had previously hesitated to be under the leadership of Orin came out in droves to join up with Grud. So, as the chieftain leading the army, he had to give face to those joining his banner in war and greet them.
The first few times, he would stop the army to greet the newcomers, but after a while, it was just more convenient to pull his wagon to the side to greet them while the main body of the army marched on.
Another thing that Grud found was a lot of free time. There was no paperwork to do, and his children, whom he brought along, were taking care of everything else. That left him with polishing and maintaining his equipment, but there was only so much he could polish and maintain.
He talked with his men and the men from the other tribe who joined under his banner, but there was only so much talk that Grud could stand in one day. That left only one other source of entertainment, and one that he had yet to get sick of, his wife Mita, who tagged along with him to danger due to her ability to turn into a wisp and escape.
Even now, after so many years of being together and getting run through by his monster cock on a daily basis, every sway of her hips and bounce of her outrageously gigantic tits tickled his loins.
So to keep himself occupied in the weeks of travel, he relentlessly plowed every hole on Mita's body that his cock could fit, and she gladly took it. Besides the first day when they departed the Rock Claw tribe, Mita has been bedridden ever since, cumflated by inactivity, subsisting on the cum that has flooded her gastrointestinal system from mouth to ass. And Mita was unconsciously reveling in the lifeforce and mana that she was absorbing from the semen that saturated her system. The only downside was that she had to fulfill the task of more than twenty women to tame her husband's libido, but she was too lost in bliss to mind.
As Grud closed his eyes to have a post fuck nap, he heard the sound of a very deliberate bird whistle, and that whistle was replied back by one of his nearby scouts. When the reply whistle was that of another bird, the commander leading the army at the moment brought the army to a stop.
Grud gently lifted Mita's head and exchanged his abs with a pillow before throwing on some clothes and stepping out of his wagon to see a man who was covered in dirt and plant matter. He looked at the warrior who escorted the man, and the warrior started explaining.
"Chieften, this is one of the men left behind by your son Orin to give you updates when you arrive." the warrior said.
Grud nodded and said, "Get his man some food, drink, and a shower, and get the elders and chieftains who came along. After he has cleaned up, escort him to us to report."
When Grud was done giving instructions, the various commanders started relaying orders for a break, while others rushed to set up a tent for the elders and chieftains to listen to the updates.