by Rose Estes
Glaring at the man, Mika gave the grey a sharp kick in the ribs and it leaped away, only too willing, for once, to do as it was told.
Then, before the driver of the princess’s wagon could react, Mika ripped the traces from his hands, flipped them over the heads of the mules and dragged them after him, forcing the mule-team to race at his heels.
Cob let out a yell but could do little more than cling to the seat with both hands to avoid being bounced off.
Recknass stuck his head outside to see what was happening, but other than glare at Mika, there was nothing he could do.
Hary stared after the runaway wagon in fury, then glanced back toward the rapidly advancing army of gnolls and trolls as though calculating his chances. They were close enough to see now, the sun glinting off their sharp pointed pikes, and the howls of the hyenas were loud and terrifying.
All around him, frightened drivers, yelling and cursing loudly, were whipping their teams into a gallop, the great mule muscles straining against the traces, the huge wheels thundering across the stony soil.
Nomads and wolves streamed past him on either side, raising clouds of dust under their frantic feet. Fear and urgency were a disease transmitted by mere proximity.
Hary felt panic rising in his own breast and as the dust settled he saw that he stood alone, surrounded by the few pathetic remains of their camp, bedrolls, cooking utensils and clothing left behind in the commotion. His own horse whickered in terror and ran, after a moment’s hesitation. Hary followed in the wake of the flight of nomads and drivers alike who were already well on their way.
The advancing army was now close enough to see the telltale banner of dust rising from the wagons. The gnolls, trolls, and hyenas began screaming and yowling eerie caterwauls that sent shivers of fear up and down Hary’s back.
Only at that moment did Hary comprehend how great was their danger and that, perhaps, Mika had made the right decision.
Kobolds were not unfamiliar to him, along with many monsters of other sorts. But never before had he encountered either trolls or gnolls in any great numbers, and as a result, he had indeed underestimated the enemy. He whipped his horse harder until, at a breakneck gallop, he caught up with the front line of retreat.
They drove the mules as fast as they could go, and soon the distance between themselves and the trailing army of horrors was increased to approximately five miles.
“What do you think, Mika?” shouted Hornsbuck as his bay matched strides with the grey stallion.
“Got to increase our lead,” Mika replied.
“The men are tiring fast,” Hornsbuck replied, yelling to be heard over the thundering hooves.
“The mules can eat on the run or go without, but the horses will need a feed. And rest—or they’ll founder,” added Mika.
“Cursed gnolls! Blasted trolls! They never stop. It ain’t human.”
Mika smiled, amused at Hornsbuck’s unintentional joke. “I have a plan. But it will have to wait for nightfall. Keep an even pace—and keep together— for now.”
“Gnolls can see just as good at night, if not better. What’s your plan?” asked Hornsbuck.
When Mika gave no answer, Hornsbuck stared at Mika curiously, trying to fathom his silence. Mika’s face was hard and his eyes distant, giving no clues to his thinking, so Hornsbuck had to content himself with dropping back to pass the word.
The mules were exhausted by nightfall, their backs covered with a thick layer of foam and their long ears drooping in front of their eyes. The horses and men were tired, too, but less so than the mules, which had been pulling the heavy wagons rapidly over the rough terrain.
Night came on fast, but barely fast enough to suit Mika, who had been riding wide circles around the wagon train all day, keeping a nervous eye on the trailing army, hoping that they would fall further behind. Their progress was also constant, but neither could maintain the grueling pace forever.
As night fell, Mika rode up to each wagon and gave the signal. Without wasting a moment, the drivers turned their wagons into a circle, then freed the mules from the wagons.
Breaking their normal pattern, they loaded a ready-packed sack of provisions, weapons, food, and water atop one mule’s back, threw a saddle blanket across the back of the second, and rode the startled animal out into the dark prairie on the far side of the wagons.
While the drivers were dealing with the mules, Mika, Hornsbuck, and several of the nomads rode toward the army and observed it under the cover of darkness.
“I count nearly two hundred,” grunted Hornsbuck, “give or take a few hyenas.”
“I agree,” said Mika. “I wish it were fewer. We might stand a chance if they catch up with us.”
“No chance,” said Hornsbuck. “No chance at all, not with the likes of them.”
“There has to be a leader somewhere among them,” said Hary, who had rejoined them noiselessly. “Perhaps one of us could go talk to them, make a bargain of some sort.”
“Ha!” Hornsbuck snorted, his immense leather-girded bulk heaving up and down as he shook with laughter. “You do that, son, and let me know what they have to say!” Still laughing, he wheeled the bay and rode back toward the wagons.
“You would be dead in a heartbeat if you were lucky—or praying for death if they let you live,” Mika said contemptuously.
“Kobolds are sweet little kittens compared to gnolls. Gnolls lie awake nights dreaming up new ideas for torture. We are their dreams come true. Believe me, you do not want to fall into their hands. And trolls are worse. They do not reason, they exist for just one purpose—to kill. Trust me, Hary.”
“What is your plan?” asked Hary.
“We will leave the wagons,” said Mika, holding up his hand to forestall Hary’s objections. “There is no other way. We will draw them in a circle and start a few fires. The gnolls will think that we are making a stand.
“They are not stupid, and even though they outnumber us, they will not rush us directly. They will take their time and advance carefully.
“If they were sent by the mage, they will not want to risk harming the princess. They will take the time to surround us and then attack. By the time they discover that we are gone, we will have gained valuable distance and time.”
“Your reasoning is sound,” said Hary. “We will sacrifice the wagons.”
They rode swiftly back to the wagons and found that the princess’s wagon had been separated from the others, and stood waiting, surrounded by the nomads and the mounted drivers.
Six mules, those weakest and deemed least able to keep up the exhausting pace, had been staked out along the edges of the circle of wagons. They stood with heads down, too tired to even crop the meager grass.
“Move out,” Mika whispered, circulating among the men. “And stay together. Your lives depend on it.” Slowly, quietly, they stole away, leaving the firelit wagons and the mules behind them.
“How long have we got?” asked Hornsbuck, keeping pace with the grey.
“I don’t know,” answered Mika. “But not long enough.”
At that moment, realizing that they were being left to the hyenas, the stranded mules began to bray, harsh terrified cries that echoed across the plains.
Even the nomads, those hardened warriors, were touched by the animals’ plaintive cries, and more than one of the drivers turned their heads to look back toward the wagons. The lucky mules that had not been abandoned dug in their heels and tried to turn back, bawling out their own confusion.
“Muzzle the mules!” cried Mika, fearful that the keen-eared gnolls would discern the distance between the two sets of sounds. His instructions were quickly followed; strips of leather, shirts, whatever was handy, were wrapped around the mules’ jaws, muffling and finally stopping their cries. Harsh blows got them moving again, and the small party crept on, trying to close their ears to the piteous cries behind them.
They had positioned the wagons so as to block themselves from the view of the monster horde. With the ca
cophony of the mules covering the sound of their retreat, they increased their pace steadily until they were out of sight of the wagons.
Unfortunately, they were not out of hearing. An hour later, the abandoned mules began to scream. Even though they should have continued, nomads, drivers, horses, and mules alike stood riveted as though imagining tooth and fang on their own bodies. The screams, which rang loud and traveled far in the thin night air, were mercifully short. A shrill outbreak of frenzied cries signaled the end of the mules’ misery.
“I don’t see that it gained us much time,” said Hary. “Those mules would barely make a mouthful among that horde.”
“The mules will keep the hyenas and the hyenadons busy,” Mika explained patiently as they spurred their horses into motion.
“The gnolls don’t care about eating, but the contents of the wagons will occupy them for a while. With any luck at all, greed will cause them to fight among themselves. And we need all the luck we can get right now.”
The sharp snarling yowls erupted once again from the direction of the wagons even as he spoke, evidence that the hyenas and their foul cousins had disagreed over the division of the mules.
Mika prayed that the gnolls would find the wagons likewise irresistible.
They stopped in the hour of deepest darkness, too exhausted to continue. They watered the mules and horses and fed them small amounts of grain to augment the sparse grass. Then, wrapping themselves in their blankets, men and wolves collapsed wherever they found themselves and were asleep within seconds.
Mika, although as tired as the rest, stayed awake for the next two hours, watching the darkness intently for any sign of the inhuman army. Then he wakened Hornsbuck to take the watch, and he and Tam curled themselves under the wagon and fell asleep instantly.
Chapter 12
IT WAS A NIGHTMARE that went on seemingly forever, whether waking or sleeping, not that there was much of the latter. The army followed them with single-minded determination. Sacrificing the mules had not bought much time, as Hary took every opportunity to remind Mika.
They had extended their lead to nearly ten miles by the continuous movement. They ate and even slept in the saddle. They were doing better than Mika had any reason to hope or expect, but he knew that the constant activity, plus the lack of adequate food and sleep, would soon begin to take its toll. And those that fell behind, whether human or animal, would be left to their own fate.
“I don’t see why we have to drag that cursed wagon along with us,” growled Hornsbuck as he and Mika rode apart from the men and rested their horses on a slight rise where they could view their pursuers. “The damn wagon just slows us down. We could ride all the faster without it. Dump it, Mika!”
“All right,” said Mika, through teeth that were gritted with prairie sand. He pictured the princess, asleep, held in Recknass’s thick arms, her beautiful slender form pressed close to his ugly body. He shuddered and forced the picture from his mind. He knew that Hornsbuck was right; the heavy wagon was a luxury they could not afford.
“Mika, the men want to know what’s in the wagon,” said Hornsbuck. “They’ve been grumbling and complaining about the mystery ever since we left the other wagons behind. And I do, too. It’s our right to know.
“I’m as brave as the next man. I’ve fought my share of orcs and kobolds and even a few goblins when I was younger, but never anything like this army of fiends behind us. And I don’t even know why they’re after us. I think you do, Mika, and before I get myself killed fighting for the Great She Wolf knows what, I think you should tell me what’s going on.”
Mika hesitated, glancing at the older man, noticing for the first time, the white lines thick at the corner of each eye, the scars that marked his dark tanned arms, corded with muscles from years wielding a heavy sword, and the steady green eyes that appraised him coolly. He knew that no lie would suffice. In spite of his bluff manner, Hornsbuck was no fool. Yet still Mika hesitated. What would Hornsuck do when he learned of the princess?
“Tell me, lad, and none of your fancy stories,” Hornsbuck said softly, as though guessing Mika’s thoughts. I will have the whole truth or I will leave, and the nomads will go with me. We’ll separate and ride off in twenty different directions. Yon army will not follow us. They will follow you and your stupid wagon, and they will catch you. So tell me the truth, lad, and do it now.”
Mika bit his lip and nodded, knowing that the older warrior had spoken his true intent. Mika knew that while many of the nomads liked him, if the knucklebones were thrown, the men would follow Hornsbuck.
Slowly, hesitatingly, Mika told Hornsbuck the whole story, including his encounters at the hands of the old magic-user. When he was done, Hornsbuck stared off into the distance without speaking.
“You should have told me this sooner,” he said at last, his voice curiously flat. “I can’t believe that you have been such a fool. If you thought with your head instead of your balls, you might turn out to be a halfway decent warrior.
“Enor begged me to take you in hand, allow you to lead the caravan, give you a chance to prove yourself. I did it for the sake of your father who was a good man. And because you remind me of myself at your age. I should have known it would never work.
“I thought I could prevent any damage you did and give you a chance to redeem yourself. I see that I was wrong. Your folly will be the death of twenty good men, including myself. They will curse you with their last dying breath.”
Hornsbuck stared at Mika with empty, stony eyes, his big callused hands holding the reins. Mika saw the intelligence behind the brusque manner and realized for the first time how badly he had misjudged the man, taking his easygoing, casual attitude for stupidity rather than the kindness it was meant to be.
“I, I did not mean .. .” he stammered, at a loss for words.
“Oh, you meant all right, lad,” Hornsbuck said levelly. “You just didn’t think of anyone, save yourself.”
And Mika knew it to be true.
“Well, what do you intend to do now, Master Wolf?” Hornsbuck asked in a cool, mocking tone. “What is the plan?”
“Ride fast,” Mika muttered softly.
“Oh, ride fast. Yes. That’s a wonderful clever plan. Would never have thought of it myself. We’ll certainly shake those monstrosities off our tails in no time.”
“Well, what would you do?” asked Mika.
“I’d cut that wagon loose, for starters,” said Hornsbuck. “Then I’d ride for the hills. We’ll never lose them out here on the plains; we’re too easy to see. We might stand a chance in the hills.”
“What hills?” asked Mika.
“The hills outside Eru-Tovar along the southern march,” replied Hornsbuck pointing out the landmarks on an oiled leather map. “We are here,” he said, stabbing the map with a thick finger. “The hills are there, two days hence.”
“Do you think we can make it?” asked Mika, his heart giving a leap within his chest.”
“Aye, probably, if we abandon the wagon and ride for all we are worth,” Hornsbuck said slowly, turning the situation over in his mind, weighing their chances.
“Gnolls are lazy bastards. They would not venture from their lairs and stick to us like this unless there was some extra kicker, like this magic-user fellow, pushing ‘em on. They like blood and killing and torture, but how much work are they willing to do to get a chance to enjoy them?”
“Seems like a lot,” said Mika, glancing behind him to see how close they were.
“Nah! This is simple stuff, following,” said Hornsbuck. “Anyone can follow in a straight line. But will they follow us if we make it difficult for them? That’s the question.”
“We can try!” said Mika.
“You understand, though, that it could work against us.”
“Why?” cried Mika.
“They are creatures of darkness,” answered Hornsbuck. “They can see better at night and might lay traps for us. We will have to be on our guard at all times.”
“And Mika,” said the older man, gripping Mika’s arm tightly. “Try to remember that we might have avoided this, had you been straight with me from the first. No more secrets. We must work together if we are to survive.”
“No more secrets,” Mika assured. “You have my word.”
They turned their horses and galloped swiftly back to the wagon where Mika called a brief halt.
Weary men slid from their saddles and poured out a small amount of water for their mounts and themselves, barely enough to wet their parched mouths.
“We must abandon the wagon,” Mika told Hary. “There is no other way. I have told Hornsbuck everything. We have imperiled the lives of him and his men. They have the right to know what it is they die for.”
Hary’s blue eyes blazed for a moment and it looked as though he might argue, but he nodded briefly and bit back the words that rose to his lips.
“I can see that it is necessary,” he said. “I appreciate all that you are doing for us. I will go and tell Recknass.” Dismounting from his horse, he climbed into the wagon.
While Hary was making his arrangements, Mika called the nomads together.
The air was cool and fragrant with the smell of grease bushes in bloom. The sun was beginning to set, bathing the prairie in crimson like a shroud of warm blood. Night hunting birds came awake slowly, twittering and chirping quarrelsomely.
The nomads trotted up, one at a time, on horses whose necks drooped with fatigue. Wolves sat on their haunches alongside their humans, their tongues lolling, too tired to visit among themselves.
The nomads stared at Mika, waiting for him to speak, knowing that the words he spoke would affect their lives.
Mika looked into their weary eyes and felt as though he were the enemy. And, in a sense, he would have to admit that he was, since his actions, and the lack of them, had helped place them in this dangerous position. Waiting would accomplish nothing. He prayed to the Great Wolf Mother to give him the right words.