by D L Frizzell
"Your father attacked the Jugs from the ledges way up there. The Jugs still had the advantage – just like they do now - and cut them down with arrows. The garrison never had a chance. Everybody was wounded, even your father. When the Jugs came down from the Narrow to kill the rest of them, he and a few others managed to climb into the boulders and hide.
"The Jug army passed by without seeing them. Our best guess is that they declared the Plainsmen dead and headed down the boulders to continue their invasion. That’s when your father devised a plan to defeat them," Seneca talked slowly as he relayed the story. "They brought explosives with them to destroy the Narrow, just as we've done, thinking it would secure our territory from further invasions. They never made it to their goal, but they still had the explosives."
"He started a boulderlanche?" Alex asked.
"Richard was faced with a choice of destroying the Narrow, or stopping the army before it reached the plains," Seneca said. "He couldn't do both."
"He could have set the explosives and gotten to a safe distance," Alex said.
"It wouldn't have worked if he set off the explosives on the surface. To get the effect he needed, the explosives would have to be planted deep under the boulders against the foundations of the ridge. He took the last of his men and climbed further into the boulders..." Seneca's voice trailed off at the end.
"Those scorch marks?" Alex asked.
"Yes," Seneca replied. "I'm sorry."
Alex stared at the vacant mountainside. Thousands of boulders would have been jarred loose in the explosion. He remembered Redland's analogy of the apple cart. As he imagined the boulders tumbling down to destroy the Jug army, his knees went a little weak. After a long moment of silence, he took a deep breath and turned stoic.
“I wonder which one of those was him,” Alex said, looking at the scorch marks on the mountain.
Seneca recoiled a bit at Alex’s bluntness. “Your father was the bravest man I ever knew. Do you understand what he did here?”
"How do you know what happened?" Alex said.
"A Jovian survived," Seneca sighed, deciding not to press the issue. "He was a spy, a garden keeper, sent to learn about our defenses. He observed your father for a year before the invasion. He came to know the Plainsmen through watching Richard and found that we weren't the barbarians that The Guile said we were. In fact, the spy found your father to be a man of deep conviction and honor. The Jovian eventually revealed his identity to your father and warned him about the invasion."
"Norio was the garden keeper?"
"Yes," Seneca said. "Before your father descended into the boulders with the explosives, he gave Norio a letter to pass on to me. He knew the boulders would be his grave. His mission was to protect everyone in the territory. Believe me, though, he was most concerned about you. He knew you'd be alone, and it broke his heart. Part of the instructions in his letter were for me to make sure you'd be kept safe.”
Alex turned and stared back at Seneca.
"There's more to tell," Seneca said. "I'm willing to tell you everything if you like."
Alex didn’t answer at first. He paced the edge of the bridge, deep in thought. “Maybe later,” he finally said.
“Okay.” Seneca didn’t know what to do next. He headed back toward the path down to their camp to give Alex some time alone when Kate popped behind the rock ahead of him. He looked over his shoulder at Alex, and then back to Kate. “Uh, you may want to give him some space.”
Showed no evidence that she heard Seneca, Kate walked over to join Alex. She looked at the mountainside, and then back at Alex. She spoke in a barely audible whisper at first, but gradually got louder, mumbling his name as if it confused her. “A…lex. A…lex.” Then her eyes brightened, and she turned to him. "I know who you are," she said.
“Finally figured it out, huh?” Alex said. Despite the revelation about his father’s death, or maybe because he needed a distraction from it, he gave her a good-natured smile. “What gave me away?”
“You’re tall,” Kate said. “I didn’t know that.”
“Taller than most, shorter than others,” Alex said. Trying to look past his reflection in her oversized goggles, he couldn’t help but ask, “Kate, has anybody ever accused you of making sense?”
Kate thought about the answer, long enough that Alex wondered if he might have offended her. Then she shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she answered without a trace of indignation.
“Kate Runaway,” Alex smiled at the crazy nomad girl, wondering how she got that way. When he remembered seeing the scars on her neck, wrists, and hands, his expression fell. Anybody who went through such an ordeal – pain and torture – might withdraw from others, maybe view personal connections differently. Cale had certainly seemed different after his experience on the Celeste.
But then, Kate didn’t seem to be withdrawing. She seemed like a completely inoffensive person, eager to help. If anything, she had been coming more out of her shell, not the other way around. “Kate, can you tell me more about the bad men who hurt you?”
Twenty minutes later, Alex and Kate came down together. Alex helped Kate jump down off the last boulder and went to his gear. He turned to Seneca and the others, who wore sympathetic expressions.
“You want to talk, man?” Brady said.
“Relax,” Alex said. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” When they continued to stare at him, he gave in just a little. "You've been following orders, haven't you, colonel?" Alex asked. "You've been trying to keep me out of danger, respecting my father’s wishes.”
"Yes," Seneca replied.
"Thank you,” Alex said. “It means a lot, but right now we need a solution to this stalemate." He paced the camp slowly. Everyone watched him, first out of pity, then curiosity. Alex was not grieving but thinking intently.
"If the Jovian has a few hundred Jugs to keep us pinned down here, what's stopping him from heading through the Narrow and reporting to The Guile?"
Seneca shook his head. "Nothing."
"Then we should expect he's already gone. Agreed?"
"That's what I would do," Seneca said. "That just makes our mission to close the Narrow even more imperative."
"But we can't beat the Jugs on their own terms," Alex countered. "It's impossible for nine of us to fight an uphill battle against a much larger force. Judging by the size of the plateau, I would guess they probably number around three hundred."
"You said something about a solution," Seneca reminded him.
"I know. I've read a lot about Jugs," Alex continued. "They’ve been a bit of a fixation, you might say.”
Seneca nodded. “Understandably.”
“I’ve been talking to Kate, and she has some insights about them as well,” Alex said. “Bottom line, I think I know their weakness. Jugs are hunters, nomads, and fighters. There's only one thing they have trouble defending against."
"Which is?"
"Boredom."
Seneca laughed.
"You going to go up there and teach them a history class?" Brady quipped. "That's about the boringest thing I ever had to sit through." The others joined in the laughter.
"The Jugs want a fight," Alex said, unfazed. "They want it so bad they can taste it. What if we don't give it to them?"
Seneca stopped laughing. "You mean retreat?"
"I mean…sit here and wait," Alex said. "Think about it. Those Jugs were brought here with the promise of battle and a chance to take revenge on us for what happened here ten years ago. But what have they been doing?" Alex looked around at blank stares. "They've been carrying sap up to the plateau, probably for as long as those spies have been in our territory. That's a couple of months at least."
"Doing nothing but carrying saddlebags full of sap?" Traore asked.
"Itching for a fight," Seneca added. "And you think denying them that will help our cause?"
"I think they might get restless," Alex said. "Maybe even come after us if we're lucky."
"If we’re lucky," Se
neca repeated, doubting there was anything lucky about a horde of Jugs advancing on their position.
"They'd have to give up their defensive advantage on the plateau," Alex explained, "and the bridge isn’t wide enough for them all to hit us at once.”
"Alex," Seneca replied, "I think you know a lot more about human nature than I gave you credit for."
"Thanks, colonel," Alex said. He looked at the unfolded tent full of gear. "Do we have enough explosives to destroy the Narrow?"
"More than enough," Seneca said.
"Think we can use some of it to make grenades?”
"I think I know what you have in mind," Seneca replied. “It's pretty risky."
"If my father came up here to protect everybody in the Plainsman Territory," Alex said, "I can’t imagine doing any less myself."
"Alex..." Seneca began, worried that Alex was about to replay the events that led to Richard Vonn’s death ten years earlier.
"I know what we have to work with, Colonel," Alex interrupted, "but listen to me - we’re going to finish this, no matter what it takes."
Seneca nodded grimly.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Daigre sat by the roots of the tree on the plateau, studying the scroll that Norio left for the spies. With a sudden surplus of time on his hands, he read the words again:
"In the garden, the Tree provides shade for the flowers, while the stream nourishes both. If the Tree falls, the stream will wash it away. The flowers will then provide shade for the acorn, while the stream nourishes both. This is what the Silent Gardener says."
Daigre began to have doubts about the meaning of the scroll. Why would Norio give away his intentions to kill The Guile? Even a novice garden keeper would know enough to keep his plans a secret. The tree in the message was The Guile, of that he was certain. The flowers indicated a garden, or a garden keeper, that would do...what? Start a coup? He felt reasonably confident the stream in the text symbolized the passage of time. Even with that, he found nothing truly helpful. Try as he did, Daigre still felt he was missing something.
Rannuk approached and waited silently for Daigre to acknowledge him.
"Do you have news?" Daigre asked him.
"There is no movement below, Master," Rannuk said.
Daigre stood up. "Still nothing?"
"Correct," Rannuk answered. "They remain in their camp."
Daigre rolled the scroll and tied a ribbon around it. "One would think an enemy comes to attack, not to wait."
"They must know they are outnumbered by your forces," Rannuk said.
"Yet they do not retreat as a weaker force should," Daigre replied. "It has been two days now. Are they engaged in trickery?"
"The birds say that no aggressive moves have been made," Rannuk replied. "Neither have they tried to flank us in secret."
"They must have a plan!" Daigre insisted. "Why do they not make their move?"
"They sleep and eat," Rannuk said. "They feed my birds and play card games. That is all." He gave Daigre a bewildered look. "I am truly at a loss to explain what they are doing."
"I could make the next move, but it would weaken my position of strength," Daigre growled. "I cannot retreat through the mountains, for they would follow us and gain the advantage of high ground on the other side. I cannot send the men down to attack, for they would be exposed on the Sentinel Bridge and killed."
"Then we are at a stalemate," Rannuk said.
"That is unacceptable," Daigre retorted.
“Master," Rannuk said carefully, "I must point out that Jugguards are men who desire conflict. They are not accustomed to sitting in camps like their women do."
"What are you saying?" Daigre narrowed his gaze at Rannuk.
"If I may speak plainly, Master," Rannuk replied, "they are becoming restless."
"Are you saying they will desert?"
"If they do not believe a fight awaits them, yes. They may even turn on you if you consider leaving before the battle is won."
"Such insolence is unforgivable!" Daigre hissed. "This behavior will be dealt with harshly by The Guile!"
"Should you make it back to him at all," Rannuk stated.
Daigre was taken aback. He had forgotten that Rannuk was a Jug. That he was educated and well-spoken was disarming. What he just said was a veiled threat against Daigre. It was a proper reminder that Daigre was not the only one with an agenda.
Yet, Daigre refused to believe he had lost the advantage because the plainsmen refused to fight.
"That is their plan," Daigre realized. "They are waiting for your people to lose interest and leave."
Rannuk nodded. "It seems so."
"I underestimated their cleverness, but it will not help them overcome the sheer force of an army coming down upon them. Prepare the men," Daigre commanded. "We set our sights on war!"
Rannuk bowed deeply. "Yes, Master." He turned and headed back to the Jug soldiers.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Seneca handed the binoculars to Alex. "It looks like your plan is working. The Jugs are assembling at the top of the bridge."
Alex looked through the binoculars and nodded. "I've heard they despise complacency," he said. "If they don't think there's a chance for a fight, they move on."
"The Jovian would never let it get to that point," Seneca said. "Still, the odds are much better now that we'll face them on open ground."
"Hell, I haven't had this much rest in weeks," Sergeant Brady chuckled. "I think I could take them all on by myself."
Seneca admitted that he felt better after resting for a few days. "Are the explosives ready?"
Sturm indicated two saddlebags full of fist-sized charges. "Yes, sir. They’ll serve nicely as grenades. We set the timers nice and short, so they don't throw 'em back at us. We even molded the explosives around the timers, so it looks like we're throwing rocks."
"Good idea," Seneca praised Sturm. "Makes us look desperate. Everyone get their gear on and fill your pockets with charges. You ready, Spot?"
"I'll take Leeds with me to the outcropping to the south," Wyler said. "We should be able to snipe any archers they send down."
"Scramble over there fast when they start coming down the bridge," Seneca ordered. "I expect they'll hit us en masse. It'll be tight quarters on the bridge, so it should be like shooting fish in a barrel.”
"Kate, I want you to stay here," Alex said.
"No."
"I'm serious."
"I won't run away this time," she insisted.
"You've never run away before." Alex had half-expected her to want to join the battle. "Listen, you're my deputy, remember? You need to do what I say."
"I am your deputy," she said defiantly, "so I will fight with you."
"I just..." He looked at the resolve in her blue-green eyes and knew it was pointless to argue. "Just stay near me, then."
"Okay."
"They're coming!" Wyler shouted from a perch on the boulders. "Leeds, let's hustle!"
The two ran across the boulders and made it to the safety of the outcropping before any arrows were shot.
"I'm glad we're over here," Leeds said, and pointed at the wall of Jugs starting down the slope with their parlo knives out. "Looks like about two hundred of 'em."
"We need to focus on the archers," Wyler reminded him. "The team can handle the foot soldiers. Just keep watching and call out if you see 'em."
"Got it."
Seneca led the rest of the Plainsmen soldiers onto the Sentinel Bridge and assembled them in a row a hundred meters up from the lower edge. "We can't afford to fall back," he reminded everyone. "Remember the drop-off behind us."
"The only direction I'm moving is forward," Gurnig said as he readied a stack of explosives at his feet.
When the smell of spawn juice drifted through the air, everyone looked at Kate in unison to see her applying a fresh coat to her gloves.
She looked back at them and said, "A good deputy doesn't ever drop her weapons." She unsheathed her parlo knife and
the machete Niko had given her. A collective round of groans went up from the squad.
"Here they come," Seneca said. "Good hunting, everyone."
Several squad members were already holding explosives in their hands. As soon as Seneca gave the word, they flung the explosives toward the approaching Jugs. They landed at the leading edge of the mob and exploded on impact. The Jugs were packed so tightly together that two dozen were thrown backwards or blown off the sides of the bridge. The other Jugs momentarily stopped in surprise, then charged again, yelling at the top of their lungs.
Rifles and pistol fire erupted from the squad into the attackers. Aiming was hardly necessary on the confined bridge, and the Jugs began to fall. The jugs in front hesitated, while the ones at the rear of the column didn’t see what happened to their comrades. They pushed forward, compressing the group even more. As the plainsmen soldiers landed more well-placed explosives, bodies fell off the northern ledge to the exposed rocks below or simply piled up on the bridge.
The Jugs died rapidly, and soon got the hint that they were in trouble. Some of their archers had settled in the rear of their formation but failed to get a single shot off. Wyler and Leeds cut them down in quick succession. The Jugs lost half their men without getting within twenty meters of the plainsmen.
When the Jugs on the bridge realized this was not a fight they could win, they turned to retreat back up the bridge. Seneca saw what they were doing and wasn't willing to let them get away.
"Spot! Slow them down!" He yelled out to Wyler.
"Yes, sir!" Wyler yelled, then turned to Leeds. "Take 'em down at the top."
"Yep," Leeds said.
Their rifle fire caused half a dozen jugs to stumble as they retreated up the bridge, slowing the rest down and causing them to look around for the source of the bullets. When they saw they were too far across the boulders to attack with knives, they grappled with indecision. Some tried to resume their escape while some still charged the squad below. A few picked up the bows the archers had dropped, but they were quickly dispatched by the riflemen.
"Don't let them get away!" Seneca yelled. "They’ll dig in if they get back to the plateau!"