The Nivaka Chronicles Boxed Set

by Leslie E Heath

  * * *

  Meanwhile, a hundred yards to the east of the main battlefront, Aibek waited with his segment of swordsmen. Their assignment was to reinforce the fighters at the front when they began to tire, but Aibek immediately noticed a problem. He watched quietly from a crouched position by the rail as about three hundred men broke away from their formation and circled around toward the east side of the village.

  Aibek silently raised his arm and pointed toward the smaller section, then gestured to his archers to nock an arrow. He allowed the battalion to get several hundred yards from the body of the enemy force, then pointed to his archers and shouted, “Shoot!”

  Arrows rained down on the unsuspecting enemy, who were stunned for a moment by the sudden attack. They took half a second to regroup, then began a furious rush toward the village.

  Aibek looked around and realized where they were, then pointed to several strong men and said, “You! Bring the spiked balls from the blacksmith’s shop!”

  The army had decided not to use the spiked balls the council had requested because they were too heavy to move around the village. Plus, the captain had no way of knowing beforehand which way the enemy would come. However, since they were this close, the balls would be perfect. Similar to the spiky weapons chained to a mace, they were larger and heavier. He waited while the runners retrieved the weapons, then ordered the men to hand them off to soldiers at the front lines and return for more spike balls.

  It only took a few moments before this group copied the main army’s strategy of throwing the ladders over the spiked rail. His men hacked at the rope, but their swords clanged against the steel spikes. They managed to cut down some of the ladders, but more came. Aibek watched as they climbed toward the rail, biding his time. When the enemy had almost reached the rail, he shouted, “Throw them, now!” and watched as the first barbed weapon fell. It immediately crashed into an enemy soldier, piercing his helmet. Blood painted his shoulders red before his body fell, knocking three other soldiers down.

  “It’s working,” he shouted. “Keep them coming! Bring more as fast as you can!”

  The villagers kept tossing the spiked balls, which bounced from one enemy to another, piercing armor and knocking a number of enemy fighters to the ground below. Most who fell were badly injured or killed, but a few regained their feet and continued their relentless climb toward the village.

  The villagers created a working chain, passing the spiked balls from the shop to the battlefront in mere moments.

  Aibek thought his plan worked beautifully. Between the spiked balls, large boulders they'd collected, and the efforts of the archers, they cut the enemy faction down to a third of its original size. Aibek knew the rest would breach the rail soon, and warned his swordsmen to be ready. He could hear the clamor of shouts, screams, and clanging of swords coming from the north end, and knew the enemy had reached the village on the main front.

  He held his men steady and led the fierce attack when the first of the enemy soldiers climbed the rail. He yelled to the archers to pull back and keep firing from a safe distance; they would be needed again later. All around him, he saw his friends and neighbors engaged in fierce hand-to-hand combat. Before long, the last of the enemy soldiers had entered the village, and Aibek shouted for his men to move back toward the main battlefront. He didn’t like being separated from the reinforcements.

  * * *

  “Let’s go!” Aibek roared as he rushed into the wave of enemy soldiers a short time later. He ducked under a sword aimed at his neck and brought his weapon around, planting it between the plates of armor on his foe’s chest. He jerked his sword free just in time to block an axe coming toward his head. He dodged to the right and found an opening. The man fell in the snow clutching his abdomen where the sword had ripped it open.

  “Attack! Attack!” He screamed to bolster his men.

  After a moment, he found himself matched against a short, stocky man who looked very similar to the messenger Siddet, except that this man had red spots all over his face. Aibek couldn’t help but smile a little as the man bared pointed black teeth and rushed in to attack. Aibek blocked the assault and moved to his left, looking for an opening in his enemy’s defense. They matched each other move by move, and Aibek realized that, for once, his height gave him a disadvantage. He hunched over to bring himself closer to his adversary’s size.

  They circled slowly until Aibek felt the crunch of snow give way to the crack of ice. He glanced down and saw they were standing on an area of solid ice left from a small leak in a nearby cistern. Drawing on the lessons he’d learned that morning, he used the slippery surface to slide quickly toward his opponent. The sudden move caught the shorter man off guard, and he stumbled, slipped, and fell backward in the snow. Aibek finished him with a swift slash to the throat, then looked up and saw they had rejoined the villagers at the north end.

  Breathing hard from the exertion of the fight, the mayor glanced around and noticed that the villagers were holding their own, but they were starting to tire. He wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve and wondered how long they could hold. As he’d hoped, some of Helak’s soldiers appeared to have contracted Usartma, but it didn’t seem to slow them down much. How would the villagers manage when the second wave of enemy soldiers arrived?

  The fighting dragged on as the afternoon shadows grew, and their enemies slowly gained ground. The villagers were being pushed farther down the boardwalk and toward the center of town. He defeated his most recent opponent, then stepped back from the battle for a moment.

  * * *

  A short while later, Faruz stepped back and glanced around at the chaos. All his friends and neighbors were locked in fierce combat. Even the weaker, obviously ill enemy soldiers were formidable warriors. Would they have had a chance without the advantage of disease? Faruz wasn’t sure.

  As he watched, Dalan ducked under the swing of his opponent’s broadsword and thrust his sword between the plates of the enemy’s armor, ending the fight. Faruz caught his friend’s eye and nodded his congratulations, then turned to see another enormous soldier moving toward him. He took a few breaths to steady himself then rushed forward to engage the enemy.

  He swung his father’s sword even before he had stopped running, sending up a shower of golden sparks when it made contact with his adversary’s shield. Faruz swayed as his feet slid on the slushy boardwalk. Before he had fully regained his balance, his opponent moved to take advantage, thrusting his sword toward the captain’s undefended throat. Faruz ducked under the attack and rushed his attacker. This time he connected with the armor plating on his enemy’s chest, and he heard the gargantuan man exhale in a sharp “Oof!”

  Before the giant could recover, Faruz swung again. The enormous enemy gathered his wits and blocked the swing with his sword, and Faruz felt the impact vibrate through his arms and chest. With his arms and lungs burning with exertion in the icy air, Faruz thrust lower, toward his adversary’s legs. Again, the gargantuan opponent blocked the move.

  Faruz stepped back and wiped the sweat from his brow. His chest heaved as he struggled for breath and moved slowly to his right, never taking his eyes from his enemy as they circled. Without warning, Helak’s soldier let out a bloodcurdling scream and lunged at Faruz, who relied on all of his training as he quickly dodged the attack and thrust his sword blindly toward his opponent. He felt the weapon connect with flesh and looked up to see that he had managed to wedge his weapon between the plates of armor protecting the giant’s upper body. He jerked the sword free and watched, transfixed, as a fountain of red erupted from the man’s chest. The enormous man opened his mouth and tried to shout in surprise, but only managed a wet gurgling sound, then flailed wildly as he fell. He released his weapon as he struggled to breathe, and the blade tumbled through the air.

  Standing with his hands on his knees as he struggled for his breath, Faruz didn’t notice that the weapon was falling dangerously close to him until it was too late. Before he could jump asi
de, the weapon sliced through the flesh above his knee, then clattered to the icy wooden floor. A river of blood ran down his leg, and he dropped to a sitting position as his head swam from the pain.

  * * *

  Aibek watched the battle raging around him, considering the plight of his soldiers, then sought out the commander of the archers.

  “Shoot into the melèe,” he ordered. “Whenever one of your archers has a clear shot at an enemy, let him take it.”

  “Are you sure?” the commander asked, “What if we hit our own fighters by mistake?”

  “I’m sure,” Aibek answered, grimly. “We need something to give us an edge. I can’t think of anything else, can you?”

  “No,” the archer said. “I don’t have any ideas. We’ll do our best. He shook his head and ran back to the group of archers who were trying to stay clear of the combat.

  Aibek left the commander and returned to his division, still locked in ferocious battle. He nodded encouragement to Dalan, who stepped forward and ended the fight he had been in with an enemy warrior. Then Aibek spotted a younger man who was tiring and leaving himself vulnerable. Aibek strode over to the fighter and stood next to him with his sword drawn, providing enough distraction that the young man found an opening and thrust his sword between the armor plating the enemy’s chest.

  At that moment, Aibek spotted Faruz sitting on the ground surrounded by a puddle of red. Aibek was relieved to see his friend sitting up and holding a sword, but he couldn’t get to him to find out what had happened. He had to stay with his division and lead them through the battle. He couldn’t desert them now, though he wanted to run to his childhood companion and make sure he would survive his injuries.

  Within a few minutes, the first arrow flew. It hit an enemy soldier in the neck, and the man stumbled and fell. No one noticed except for the villager he had been fighting. A moment later, several arrows flew into the melèe. Each hit and wounded an enemy fighter. This time, everyone noticed. Several villagers shouted in relief as their adversaries fell at their feet, and others won easy victories due to their foes’ distraction.

  * * *

  From his vantage point on the boardwalk, Faruz couldn’t tell what had caused the sudden surge of energy in the villagers. He craned his neck to see around the wall of friends who had been defending him since he fell. A large red puddle surrounded him, and he had grown too weak to hold his sword, but still, he tried to keep track of the battle.

  Wayra came to where Faruz was sitting. “I don’t like how much blood you’re losing, Captain. I’ll tie something around your leg to stop the bleeding.”

  Faruz took a deep breath, nodded and watched as his friend ripped a strip of cloth from his shirt and pressed it over the wound. Wayra bent, removed the captain’s belt and tied that an inch above the improvised dressing. He held pressure to the bandage until the bleeding stopped, then loosened the tourniquet slightly.

  “That should do.” Wayra turned away and resumed his battle position.

  The archers continued to fire into the melèe whenever they had a clear shot at an enemy warrior, but the energy of the battle had shifted. The villagers finally outnumbered their opponents and were defeating the enemies that remained.

  At the moment when it looked like they'd won the battle, Faruz heard a shout. The villagers around him groaned and lifted their weapons. More enemy soldiers had been spotted advancing through the forest.

  * * *

  “The second wave is here!” Aibek yelled to the weary defenders. “We knew they were coming, and we’re ready!”

  He leaned over the rail, slicing the discarded rope ladders loose. They tumbled to the ground in a useless heap, and Aibek turned to the assembled archers and shouted, “Hold nothing back! We only have to defeat this group and its over!”

  The archers managed to eliminate nearly half of the advancing brigade, but the others didn’t slow their assault. They quickly figured out how to loop their ladders onto the barbed rail, and even though the villagers cut down half the ladders, the enemies climbed into the embattled village on ladders that wouldn't budge and attacked the exhausted defenders.

  Frantically, Aibek searched for an angle, any advantage he could use to defeat the newcomers. He considered telling his warriors that these enemies intended to kill them all and move into their homes, but discarded that idea when he saw how tired his men looked.

  Upon second look, these new warriors didn’t look all that fresh, either. In fact, some of them appeared to be wounded, in addition to the spots marring their faces and necks. He wondered what they had encountered before they arrived here, but then decided it didn’t matter. They were here now and must be defeated.

  Aibek wasted no time engaging the new enemy alongside his men, even though he was distracted. He blocked and thrust as he mulled over the villagers’ situation. Helak's men outnumbered them again. How much longer could they hold out? As he fought, he searched desperately for a winning strategy, even as he shouted encouragement to the villagers fighting for their lives around him.

  * * *

  Faruz heard the groans of the weary guard as the clanging of armor signaled the approach of the enemy battalion. Some of his defenders moved off to fight the new division, and he wondered if he would live to see the end of this battle. He wanted to see his army succeed against their enemies. He had been weak before Wayra placed the tourniquet, and now he was starting to feel dizzy, too. He’d been sitting in the snow for so long; he could no longer feel his feet. He tried to wiggle his toes but gave up when he realized he couldn’t tell if they moved or not. He was so tired. Maybe he would feel better after a little nap.

  * * *

  “You can do this!” Aibek screamed to the exhausted defenders. “Oof,” His breath rushed out as something crashed into his back.

  He spun around in time to see an enemy soldier kick at Alija, who fell against the rail. Another adversary sprang toward him with his sword raised, and Aibek moved to save his friend. He attacked the aggressor from the side, knocking the sword out of his hand, then driving his weapon through the man’s neck. Before his adversary hit the ground, the other assailant rushed at Aibek with a scream of rage.

  Aibek dodged the assault and swung his sword around, sending a shower of sparks when it connected with the armor plating the enemy’s back. Helak’s warrior stumbled forward with the force of the blow and slid in the slushy snow. Aibek took the advantage while his foe was flailing for balance, and drove his sword through the man’s unprotected flank.

  Alija stirred slightly against the rail, though he didn’t open his eyes. Reassured that his friend was still alive, Aibek planted himself in front of the injured man, determined to protect him.

  When he turned his back to Alija, Aibek saw the full scope of the battle. His eyes swung north, then south. Everywhere he looked, exhausted villagers desperately battled enemy soldiers. They were outnumbered nearly two to one. His heart sank to his boots as he saw another adversary rushing toward him. How would they ever win?

  “Great job! Keep fighting!” He fought to keep the uncertainty from his face as he shouted encouragement to his men.

  * * *

  Faruz blinked his eyes open and peered at the gray clouds above. He must have dozed off, he realized with a start. What was happening?

  He listened to the clanging of steel and the screams and groans of men and knew the battle raged on. How long could this continue? How much longer could the villagers hold? They'd been fighting since early afternoon, and now the sky was turning orange with the sunset. His head spun as he struggled to a sitting position. He loosened the tourniquet on his leg and felt the painful prickle of blood returning to his toes. The wound on his leg trickled blood, but it was nothing compared to the unabated flow he’d had earlier.

  Pulling himself forward, Faruz craned his neck, trying to gauge the progress of the battle. He had to get a better look around. Panting from the effort, he leaned against the splintered rail. He closed his eyes to stop the spin
ning and waited for the ringing in his ears to cease, then opened his eyes again. He blinked several times and then squinted into a familiar face, wondering if he was seeing things.

  With a worried look in his eyes, Eddrick asked, “What are you doing way over here?”

  “I didn’t expect to see you today.” At his sudden outburst, several nearby fighters turned and stared.

  Eddrick placed a finger to his lips. “Shh. Remember, they can’t see me.” The ghost laughed and gestured to the nearby warriors. “Watch this.”

  Faruz was sure he was hallucinating when he saw hundreds of spirits descend on the village and join the battle. It was hardly fair since the opposing army couldn’t see their attackers. The ghosts grabbed the enemy’s swords and used them to attack their owners. Helak’s warriors exclaimed in fear, and those who weren’t killed by unseen opponents wielding their own weapons began to flee.

  The confused villagers clustered together and watched to see what would happen next.

  “Thank you!” Aibek shouted to the spirits. “I never expected your help today, but we couldn’t have won without you.” He heaved a sigh of relief as the last of the enemy warriors escaped through the woods.

  Looking around, Aibek couldn’t believe how many spirits had come to their aid. He searched the nearly transparent crowd for a familiar face and finally found his mother.