On the third day after the sighting of the enemy, Captain Frostknife offered a suggestion. If they took the Will of Winter and Kobold’s Guile, and began harrying the enemy by night, then it would surely have an impact on the enemy’s morale. One did not need precision firing when using fireballs, after all, so there was no need to get closer than the furthest range of the spell, which was just beyond a bow’s range. Well, a typical bowman’s range, at any rate. It was within the range of some siege weapons, but setting up and aiming a trebuchet to hit a moving target in the middle of the night? That was not so easily done.

Of course, there was always the threat that the angels might fly out to try and assault the ships. No one believed that the two ships could overcome the three angels working together, but that is why my party would be split between the two ships. We needed to hunt the angels anyway, so if we could bait them out before the battle, then all the better.

The plan was simple. Once night had fallen, one of the spellcasters on the Will of Winter would cast the Control Weather spell, summoning thick clouds which blocked out the moon over the enemy camp. Then, the two ships would descend out of the clouds, pick their targets, and fire, before retreating back into the clouds. A simple hit and run attack in the middle of the night, when most of the camp was asleep. Of course, there was just one little addition I made to the plan.

Which is why I was standing next to Siora on the deck of the Will of Winter as we plunged through the clouds. Below us, the camp was quiet, lit only by the torches carried by the guards and sentries, the cooking fires having all been put by this point. From the distribution of light, you could see where the important parts of the camp were. After all, you didn’t put guards on an outhouse!

“Well, what say you, Captain?” I asked, looking to Captain Frostknife beside me.

The Iceforged swashbuckler laughed as he looked down at the camp. “I almost feel bad for the poor fools. From the looks of things, they’ve set the camp up properly. Decent discipline for an army mostly of levies, defenses in place, and guards posted. No doubt they have scouts out ahead of the host, looking for skirmishers and raiders. But they seem to have forgotten the sky. It has been half an hour since the clouds rolled in, and they are not at alert.”

I nodded. “At night, the common soldier would not know a spell to control the weather unless it started doing something unusual, like summoning up a tornado or blizzard. The ones who might recognize that this is not natural, and may raise the alarm, will be sleeping, now. After all, they need their rest to regain spells. And even if they recognized that clouds cutting off the moonlight were unnatural in origin, their first thought would be to the perimeter, since flying ships are none too common.”

“True, your Majesty. Then, I guess that it falls upon us to educate these nobles on why one should always keep an eye to the sky. By your leave?”

“Yes, you may fire when ready.”

Frostknife turned to his second, and nodded. “Fire for effect. Target the large tents in the center of the camp. I doubt we’ll kill many of the nobles outright, but sleeping in the open air will be good for them. Let the Guile take their stores.”

At his command, the four lower cannons on the port side fired. Four explosions of flame lit the night, rocking the camp’s center, targeting the command tents. Three more followed soon after, and the army’s wagon train was reduced to rubble, along with a good portion of their supplies.

“Siora, if you will.”

At my word, Siora smiled wickedly, and set about my contribution to the plan. She cast a spell she had not used much, if at all, in our adventures, since we rarely had need of such things. But the Major Image spell was perfect for what we needed right now.

An image of me appeared above the camp, wings outstretched. And the sound of my laughter could be heard over the cries of shock and dismay. Laughter, taunting the army, even as the ships slipped back into the clouds, hidden from view once more.

This was my contribution to the plan. I was a Twice-Born, after all, and had the memories of another world. There was one story I’d heard about in school, from the second world war. During Women’s History Month, my history teacher did a feature on this unit of female pilots from Russia who fought with outdated planes, bombing the Germans in the middle of the night.

The pilots would cut their engines and coast in as they approached the German base. The silence of the night would be broken by explosions and screams of terror, and then women’s laughter, as they started their engines up again, and flew off, into the night. The terror they spread earned the unit the name ‘Night Witches’.

And so, I sought to recreate that scene. My laughing image hung over the camp as our ships retreated into the clouds, haunting them. More importantly, taunting the angels, letting them know exactly who was responsible for this.

Two hours after the initial attack, the Will of Winter ducked back down, beneath the clouds, to see the results of our attack. The camp was still in motion, as the soldiers desperately tried to salvage everything they could of the supplies. The three angels were visible, in the center of the camp, lending what aid they could. No one was sleeping.

Rising back up into the clouds, we used Siora’s Sending spell to coordinate with the Kobold’s Guile. Trying to make plans when limited to communications of twenty-five words or less would have been difficult if we had not planned ahead, and worked out most of the details before we set off from Coldmaw. Thankfully, I had good people around me, who could work with such restrictions, and prepared accordingly.

Just before dawn, we struck again. Seven more fireballs blossomed through the enemy camp. This time, we struck at large concentrations of soldiers. While the leaders might not be brought down with a single fireball, the common soldiers and levies were far more fragile. Fresh cries of fear rang through the camp, and once more Siora’s spell had my laughter drifting over the camp. As we flew away, into the clouds, I saw a bolt of heavenly light fly up from the camp, and shatter the illusion of me laughing.

On the ship, I couldn’t help but grin. “One of the angels must have been cross from our interrupting their rest,” I joked, looking to the others. “What are the odds that they just give up and go home?”

Frostknife laughed. “Long enough that a copper down would give someone wealth enough they’d never have to work a day in their life if it came true, I reckon. You stomped on their pride, both the nobles and the angels. They have to continue, now that you humiliated them, or face trouble at home when the levies return, telling about everything that happened. The nobles run now, and they’ll look like fools and cowards. And the angels can’t go without people questioning their faith, undermining the ‘righteousness’ of their cause.”

Siora nodded. “On the other hand, you’ve put them in a real bind. I doubt all the supplies were completely destroyed. However, even if they recover most of their supplies, the wagon train and draft animals used to haul them are in shambles. That means they’ll have to march with all their supplies on their backs, while dealing with the dead and wounded.”

I nodded. “My thoughts exactly. They can’t run away, but now their supply lines are shattered, which limits the duration of their campaign, unless they start relying on magical aid to feed the army. But I doubt they have enough spells or items to keep the entire army fed. So, they are going to have to hope for a quick strike, and overwhelm the fort, rather than a siege. They’ll be desperate, since everyone will know that the food won’t last.”

“And there isn’t much for an army to live off the land with,” Frostknife added. “We’ve done a few aerial surveys of the area, and now that the farmers have taken in the harvest, there isn’t much that could support an army on the march between here and J’Nast. And the city has its own walls and defenders.”

“J’Nast has supplies set aside for the winter, but a siege will run through them faster than anyone cares for. If Coldmaw falls, then the city will be in a panic as they scurry to complete their preparations before the army can start the siege. We just have to ensure that, should the fort fall, that it is the most expensive fort the enemy ever buys.”

Siora grinned. “Well, many more nights like tonight, and I doubt they’ll have much of an army to lay siege to your fort. What do you reckon the casualties are like? I figure there have to be some dead, what with that bombardment.”

“Not as many as I’d care for, if I’m honest,” I sighed. Looking over to Frostknife, I asked, “I think we can expect a couple hundred at the highest, no?”

“Sounds about right,” the captain nodded. “A drop in the bucket, when looking at an army of ten thousand, sure, but the dead and wounded are going to need to be taken care of. All while the supplies are running low. If they keep to a steady pace, they should be within sight of the fort in another four days. If we keep harassing them at night, then we can try and wear them down, and keep their spellcasters from regaining spells, or adapting to our tactics. Keeping up the pressure is important.”

“Speaking of which,” I said. “Captain, I’d like you to set up watches for your crew. I know you don’t have to sleep like we fleshy creatures, but too long on the watch will dull the senses all the same. Make sure your best gunners are rested and ready for nightfall. They won’t let us have it easy like we did tonight.”

“Of course, Majesty. We’ll have things set up so everyone can get time to relax, and be ready to fight when we finally get within range of the army again. Tomorrow, we’ll focus on inflicting as many casualties as possible.”

“Good. Also, when you ready tomorrow’s attack, make sure to spread the joy as far and wide as is prudent.” I saw the quizzical look on the captain’s face, and grinned. “Concentrating your fire may take out all of a single unit at once, and cause others to scatter in fear, but having dead and wounded in every unit will increase the terror. A thousand dead men is a number. A single dead or grievously wounded is a heartbreak. And the more the soldiers have to deal with that heartbreak, the worse their morale will be. Especially when food starts getting short.”

“And an army without food or supplies is just a mob waiting to get split up into bite sized chunks and be devoured by a professional force,” I grinned. I was pretty sure that, if I was back in my old world, then some of the things I had seen, and some of those I had done, would definitely be getting a long, hard look from whoever it was that decided things were war crimes or not.

Thankfully, there was no such thing as a Geneva Convention in this world, which meant I could do whatever I wanted, so long as I kept winning.