by Lazlo Ferran
“No Sire. I don’t think so.”
“Well find out and quickly.”
To the other one I said, “Go and get the cook. I want my breakfast as soon as possible.”
He rushed off and I went back inside the tent and dressed. By the time I had got to my armour and realised I needed someone to help me fasten it, the cook and two of his men had arrived carrying plates of hot bread, water and fruit.
“Good. Now start cooking for the rest of the men. I will have them awake and eating in half an hour.”
“But Sire. We are not ready yet. We have only water and dried meats if you want them fed that early!” I laughed.
The Cook was wringing his hands like any plump inn-keeper would. And he was getting plump.
“Alright then. Dried meat will have to do. We must move soon. How are our food supplies in general?”
“They are alright Sire but what will we do for the return journey?”
“If we win, we will have plenty to eat. If we lose, we won’t need to eat.”
“Yes Sire.” With that, he ushered his men out and left.
He was right of course. It was something to be concerned about. We had only enough food to get us there but that was all I had time to think about at the moment.
We left almost a full hour earlier than normal, the men and Generals complaining bitterly. Many hard words were exchanged but still they rode and some of the wounded were dragged on makeshift litters. Normally we only stopped for five hours at night, since there was moonlight to see by, but this night it had been three and with a rushed start, I hoped to gain the time we had lost with a hard march and still make the Water Station on time. It would be the sixth station. Only a short while after starting we saw more empty water skins, more planks and then a dead camel. It must have been sick for its throat had been cut. It was probably slowing down the train. At least its bags were not there. They must have replaced some of the broken ones. Spirits sank at this latest setback. In just two days’ time we would be dependent on these camel’s loads and perhaps when we reached the battle field too. It was as if we were riding into the teeth of hell. If it had been any earlier in the year, many of the men would already have died. As it was I looked at the men and saw cracked lips and bent figures. They would be getting weaker by the day, as would the horses. Most of the water, in fact, was being given to the horses. The fourth water Station, not a well but a collection of large tanks, fed from a nearby wadi, had been nearly empty when we arrived. It certainly was empty now.
Sometimes the Sun seemed to be a cruel torturer, beating on one’s head, driving out rational thought, and the wind constantly blew fine grains of sand and grit into one’s eyes and face.
It was noon and the heat was at its most intense, beating on our heads and shoulders like a hammer on an anvil. It was hard to concentrate on moving, let alone thinking. Once, I tried to speak to Geb and my mouth would not produce the words. I had to reach behind me and take a swig from my canteen, before I could speak.
“Do you not think we should stop, Sire?” he looked concerned.
I looked back at the ghostly shape of the column in the dust and heat haze.
My heart sank but I knew we must get back on track. With less water soon, we would move even slower and if got out of step with the Water Station intervals, we would suffer cruelly. We could not carry enough water with us for the horses so stopping at the Stations at night and marching right through the day, was out of the question.
We went on.
Thankfully, after only a short while, we saw the fluttering cloth of a shelter at the next Station, Station six and after another weary half-hour we, at the head of the column reached the first tank. I deliberately stayed on Arstan, until the last man had passed me. They were for the most part dragging their weary feet, the horses too, but most of the men gave me a weary smile as they passed. Only the Scout’s camels still looked fairly fresh. After the last of the scouts had rode in I had sent out the fresher twenty scouts on to the left flank. I was still wondering what had happened to the last scout. Had he caught their leader? Was he dead or was he still chasing him? I knew none of my men would give up in such a situation. To let one man get word to Korim could spell disaster for the whole Army.
Lying under a still, ochre-coloured sheet, I let some cool water dribble down my chin, into my growing beard. I looked at my hand where the spilled water created shiny runlets in the dust there. Then I put the bottle down, stoppered it and closed my eyes. I could not move.
“Sire, Sire. I must speak with you!”
I heard a voice, what must have been at least an hour later, but seemed days, and I could not open my eyes.
“What is it?”
“Sire. I do not think we have enough water for you all!”
I groaned. My head was beginning to thump, the first sign of dehydration, and I did not want to hear any more bad news. I forced my eyes open.
“Camp seven has even less, I have heard!”
“Oh. Never mind. We will just have to make do. How have things been here, anyway, Captain?” I could see his rank from his tattered tunic.
“Fine Sir. We have, thankfully, not been attacked. Our only problem is the water. It has not rained since March. We filled the tanks right to the brim but now, some of them are almost empty.”
I looked around and could see that the only people moving were the Station Brigade, moving among the men, with jugs of water. I guessed they would be grateful for company. They had probably not had any other visitors, except those from the other Stations, since their tour began.
All too quickly, it was time to leave again.
I dragged myself up into Arstan’s saddle. He was reluctant and nearly slipped from under me but stepped quickly sideways.
Geb was constantly by my side these days and although I liked his company, I was worried that I would get too close to him. Perhaps I might get to the point, where I didn’t want to send him into danger, like the other leaders.
“Geb. Go back with your men. I need time to think and anyway, you will have to lead them in battle soon. You must learn again how to be their leader, perhaps in situations where I cannot advise you. You must be a very tight unit.”
He laughed out loud, a great belly laugh.
“Sire. I don’t mind if you need to be alone but don’t make excuses. I am as close to my men as any Commander can be. We are rusty in battle it is true but I don’t need time to learn bow to be their leader.”
He slapped his rein on the horse’s rump, which turned, and then he was gone.
I laughed.
My head was really thumping now and I realised it was not just dehydration. Some thought was nagging at the very fringes of my consciousness. Ah yes. The dream. I had wondered, in fleeting moment throughout the day, what it had meant and now I thought on it some more. The blue stones. What had they meant? Whatever they were they were obviously very important. I ran through a list of all the blue things I could think of, including the sky and the lakes I had known. None of them seemed to have much significance.
My thoughts passed on to other things. Would my Army be equipped to beat the enemy? I was sure they were tough enough but did we have the right equipment?
I had remodeled the Army when I had taken up the Crown. When I was young, my father had sent me to Mockba, to the Imperial Academy, to study Military Tactics and finish my formal education. It had been an education, in more ways than one, but I had absorbed, like a sponge, everything I was shown, about Military matters. I learned about the New Model Army of Oliver Cromwell in England and it seemed to me to be a very great advance on previous thinking. It was on this model, that I had structured my Army when I returned and took up the Crown. But I had also absorbed many of the ideas of the Ancient Greeks and Romans too. The Ancient Greeks, of course, under Alexander, had come through our lands and there had been great battles. Many of our people’s tales told of them and many of the Generals still used ideas gained when fighting the Greeks.
I liked to th
ink I had the best of the old and the new, in my Army.
It was just then, not long before the setting of the Sun, that the last scout from the previous day, was spotted on the horizon, to our right.
His horse was meandering towards us and he himself was slumped in the saddle. At first I thought he was wounded. But as he finally drew close, we could see he was just exhausted.
I finally drew level with him.
“Greetings. How did it go?”
“Sire.” There was a long pause while he struggled to form a sentence. He was clearly also extremely dehydrated and probably very hungry. “I spotted a man on a black horse and gave chase. He was a very wily Bandit. I don’t know who he was but he led me almost to the mountains. We crossed wadis and dunes and all the time, he was leaving as few signs as possible so that I would have to get off my horse and crawl on the ground to find his direction. At times he even doubled back on himself, or brushed away his horse’s marks with a branch or his cape. We rode all night and by dawn, he must have been many miles ahead of me. I once saw him, late in the morning, on the horizon and this allowed me to ride at a great speed, straight towards him, but it must have been a trick. When I reached the spot, he was miles to the east of me. He had ridden almost at ninety degrees to the direction I had assumed!” The Scout paused gasping for breath. “My horse had been pushed to the limit just to get to that point.” He spat on the ground. “He is a devious bastard, whoever he is. Filthy Bandits! Eventually, the mountains were too close and I realised I would not catch him. Anyway, I was worried there may be enemy camps nearby and that my horse might die, if I did not turn around. As you can see, it nearly did kill us.” He patted the horse’s neck, affectionately. “I am sorry Sire. I tried everything I could.” I must have grimaced, for he looked down at the ground.
“Don’t worry. You did well. I think he was riding away from Korim’s camp. He may not make it back and even if he does, it will not be for some days. It has brought us valuable time.”
Inside, my frustration was growing. This was yet another setback. Now, either today, tomorrow or the next day, Korim would know we were coming.
The Scout smiled and his white teeth, against his brown, grit covered face, made him look almost comical. I patted him on his back as some men led him away.
Suddenly I turned and called after him, “What is your name, Soldier?”
“Ahmad.” He called back.
“I will remember you.”
I signaled for the great snake column to move on and after another five hours, we halted and made camp. The tan-coloured sheets, coloured to give us some camouflage, looked ghostly in the faint moonlight. Another few nights, I thought, and there would be no moon. Ideal for an attack but not for marching across a desert. That night the men were subdued. There was no dancing and little drinking.
* * *
Chapter Four
We reached the seventh and last Water Station on time, which was a relief. Knowing the state of the water supply, I ordered all the men, to let their horses drink first. There was still some water left after the men had filled their flagons and bottles but it was muddy and of a poor quality. The Stations Brigade got out the wooden ramps. This was an ominous sign. The bottom of the tanks were sloped towards one corner to reduce evaporation at the last and so that there was a more concentrated area of water to drink from. When the tanks were in this state, planks were set, from a corner to the floor so that men and horses could drink at the pool.
Later, the word went round that only one tank had any water in it.
I sent word out that only horses were to drink now. There was much grumbling but nobody disobeyed orders.
We left a little later than usual. I planned to make this time up later at night. Starting when it was slightly cooler should help conserve some fluids.
We pushed on hard that night and thankfully, we reached the Water Station, manned by ten men and with ten camels. Each man had started out with two camels and the other ten of these men’s camels had gone ahead as spares with the others.
There were the twenty troughs, constructed of wood, in two rows of ten, protected from the sun underneath lean-to shelters set up in the lea of an old, weed covered dune. As we approached, the men waved and I saw them slit open the skins so our horses could get at the water.
The horses noisily gulped down the water and the men fell down exhausted, as soon as they were under the shelters.
Geb came up to me.
“I can’t keep pushing my men at this rate, Sire. They are not weak or old and I am sure the other troops are suffering just as much!”
I was looking at him but I was not hearing what he was saying. Or at least, his voice sounded far, far away.
I had been thinking for the last few hours about the strange dream and wondering what the blue stones had meant. Suddenly I was looking at Geb’s blue eyes and I knew what the dream meant. Geb was going to be instrumental in the battle. I could not get too close to him as I had a feeling I would need to send him into great danger. He would be what I needed to turn the tide of the battle. I didn’t know how but I was sure of it. Suddenly my, mind, which had been muddled and unfocused, was clear and I felt lightened.
I smiled at him.
“Geb. You are right. We must take things more easily, although I do not know how. I will think on it.”
A moment later, Abdil’khan and some of the other Generals came up, with the same complaint.
I walked among the drinking horses, for a moment, calculating, in my mind. Each trough held one berkovet of water, about the weight of two men. Each man would drink about one hundredth of this each day, given that my troops were trained to drink very little while in the desert. But any less and they would die after a very short while, perhaps as little as three days. I had 1000 men so they would need ten of the troughs. I had only about 2000 horses but each horse would need at least 2 1/2 times as much water as the men. Yes. There should be enough.
I called Abdil’Khan over.
“Assemble the men in at sunset. I want to talk to them.”
As I stood on the rise, with the sun going down behind me, I looked out over a sea of unfamiliar faces.
“Men. Countrymen. I am sure I don’t need to tell you that our country is in a tight situation. You are the last army. The last men I have to defend it. To defend your family, your mothers and fathers, your brothers and sisters, in some cases your wives, children and lovers.” I smiled and the men smiled back.
“We, are all there is to defend the land you love.” Of course they may be a few other small groups of men to defend the country, those that may yet arrive in Parat City from the outlying districts, but they will be, at most, two thousand strong and I have left orders that many of them are to defend the Palace and the city to the end.
We have a great battle ahead of us. It is a battle with a young man called Korim. I know little of him, to be honest, but I believe him to be proud and eager for land. I think we will find him dug-in and determined to defend what he has. Being young however, he may well be rash and being proud, he will not want to give up anything, even if this means making his position weaker.
Most of you will also know, that I have sent Lord Bulya, with an Army, ahead to ride down the north side of the mountains and attack on the very same day we will attack from the south. For this reason, I have been forcing the pace so that I, we will have time to assess the situation and scout out the battlefield for some days before we need to attack. However, the pace may seem too harsh to some of you and tonight, I will consider ways to make this less harsh. Be assured however, that whatever I decide to do, it is with the aim of winning the battle in mind.
I want all of you to be careful how much you drink. Do not gorge yourself as soon as you reach our midday halt. Drink a little at frequent intervals, and only just before we march, drink as much as you can. Also, let the horses drink as much as they need. Their need is greater than yours. And we will need them. I suggest also, that you remove all your armour
and wear only a light tunic. Of course, if we are attacked, we will be vulnerable but I don’t think this likely. Also, eat only what you need.
I paused for a few moments.
“We will win this battle and free our country!”
Slowly, at first, a few men cheered and then a few more and soon the whole throng was roaring its approval.
It was shortly after this that the Cook, also one of the chief field-surgeons came to my tent with some bad news. There was no preamble.
“Two men have died. One was wounded in the skirmish but both died from the water sickness. Fever. I tried everything I know but, in these conditions…”
I looked into his sad eyes.
“Are there more cases?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think it was the dried up tanks?”
“Maybe.”
“What can we do?”
He paused. “Nothing really. We may be alright.”
I smiled. “Thank you.”
He saluted, turned and walked out.
Slightly later than usual, we left for the second of the Temporary Water Stations. I believed that this first station had been a shorter distance from the last camp than it should be and so, probably would the next. Of course, by the time we reached the fifth, we would be further from our destination than we should be and probably more than two days from water but for now, we may as well make the most of the easier marches.
Just before dusk, and a few hours before we would have stopped, Edil’bai sent a messenger to me.
“Look Sire!” He pointed behind us, to the south and at first I wasn’t sure what he was pointing to. Then I saw it. A huge bank of cloud, slightly reddish in colour. Sandstorm.
“Thank you Captain. Tell Edil’bai we will march all night and hope it passes behind us.”
By doing this, we would come closer to the next station too. “Pass the word on to the other Battalions.”
“Yes Sire!” he saluted and rode away.
Moments later, I saw a small cloud of dust, a few verst ahead of us.