Army of the Dead fl-8

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “There is no way to know,” shrugged the general as he followed the premer into the tent. “Do you want me to go out and ask them?” he added sarcastically.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice if they would answer?” replied the premer as he grabbed a torch and placed it into a holder near the table.

  Cardijja stared at the map in silence for some time. General Luggar fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with the silence.

  “The question, Luggar,” the premer finally said, “is how did the elves get here? If they were here when we marched by this forest on the way to the jungle, why didn’t they attack then? And why didn’t our men find them when they hunted the deer?”

  “They must not have been here then,” shrugged Luggar.

  “Then where were they hiding?” asked Cardijja. “Certainly not in the jungle. They would have attacked us there as well. They didn’t come from the east across the plains. We would have seen them.”

  “So they came from the west,” shrugged the general. “What difference does it make? The important thing is that they have us surrounded. It doesn’t matter a bit how they got here.”

  “That is where you are wrong, Luggar,” smiled the premer. “How they got here matters a great deal. I will tell you why in a moment. What I need to understand is if they have been around since Bakhai arrived in our camp. The elf that was trying to kill him was the first hint of elves in this land. Now you have always been suspicious of Bakhai, so you are the perfect person to ask this of. Were the elves around our camp when Bakhai came to us?”

  General Luggar had never trusted the Fakaran youngster, but he knew that Cardijja had a soft spot in his heart for the lad. He remembered that patrols had been sent out in search of the elf, and those patrols turned up nothing.

  “I don’t think so,” answered the general. “Bakhai is clearly not an elf, and I think he was truly afraid of the elf that chased him, but I still do not trust him. Why are you asking?”

  “Because I suspect that the elves might have been responsible for the insects that attacked us in our sleep,” explained Cardijja.

  “Elven magic?” questioned the general. “Why would they do such a thing? Why not attack us as they are doing tonight?”

  “Because our troops were fresh at the time,” reasoned the premer. “I suspect that the total number of elves attacking us is rather small. Any real attack on us would be a deadly defeat for them, so they aim to deprive us of sleep. They make us afraid and weaker through exhaustion.”

  “Your theory makes sense,” nodded the general, “but what does that have to do with Bakhai?”

  “It is almost as if the Fakarans know where we are going,” explained the premer. “If Bakhai has told the Fakarans what he told me, then all we can do is stay here and fight it out with the Fakarans. I don’t mind telling you that I think our prospects are not very good.”

  “I am confused,” admitted the general. “On one hand you state that the number of elves is small, and on the other you rate our chances as low. How can this be?”

  “Because the elves are not our only enemy,” replied Cardijja. “All the elves have to do is deny us sleep. The horsemen will finish the job. We can attack the elves tonight and maybe cause them grievous harm. Maybe not. But in doing so, we will get no sleep for another night. Our men are barely functioning now. Come morning when the horsemen attack, we may be slaughtered.”

  “And the options are?” frowned Luggar. “Are you suggesting that we nod off and die in our sleep?”

  “No,” Cardijja shook his head. “I am thinking about moving onward so that we are not here in the morning when the horsemen arrive.”

  “And go where?” Luggar asked with growing frustration.

  “To the Valley of Bones,” answered Premer Cardijja as he tapped the map with his finger. “Bakhai said that it was a defensible position. That is why I need to know if he has revealed our conversations to the Fakarans.”

  “Now I understand,” nodded the general. “If Bakhai was a spy, the Fakarans will expect you to go to the Valley of Bones. Your concerns are warranted. I do not trust the lad.”

  “I understand that,” conceded the premer, “but even if he was a spy, would he have been smart enough to steer us on such a wild path as the one that we have taken?”

  “Inconceivable,” Luggar shook his head. “I detected no sign of intelligence in the boy. I do not think he was truly a spy in the sense that we think of the term, but I do believe that he would spill his guts to anyone who asked. He may have mentioned that he told you about the Valley of Bones, but there is no way that the Fakarans could be expecting us to go there. He mentioned so many places to us. Why would that one stand out in their minds?”

  “I have my doubts as to his intelligence,” sighed Cardijja, “but I see no other path for us. We cannot stay here if the horsemen will arrive in the morning. That would mean certain destruction for our army. That much I know for sure. Where else could we hope to get to?”

  “We would have to spend many nights in the forests on a return to Meliban,” answered the general, “and I suspect that the elves would follow us and attack each night. We also would never reach Meliban without days upon the plains, and the horsemen would take their turn at attacking us every night. The Valley of Bones appears to be our only chance. If we can fortify the valley, at least the men can sleep. How will you get past the elves?”

  “We will purposely suffer one more attack,” explained the premer as the sounds of fighting died down. “Let the elves believe that we are settling in for the night despite their attacks. I do not want them alerting the horsemen to our plans to vacate this campsite. As soon as the next attack ends, I want the entire army up and moving northward. We will spread out in a swath across the entire stretch of forest. There will be no place for the elves to hide as we march towards the Valley of Bones. Those that are towards our north will be attacked by the vanguard.”

  “They will also attack us from behind,” warned the general.

  “I have no doubt that they will,” nodded the premer, “but we will have to endure it. It seems that I am always willing to slice off a section of my army to save the rest of it, but I see no other way.”

  “Nor do I,” agreed the general. “I will see that the word is passed. You should get some sleep while you can. The elves will not reach this far into the camp.”

  * * *

  Princess Alahara dropped the air tunnel and stood silently. She looked questioningly at Tamar and Bakhai alongside her.

  “Premer Cardijja is an intelligent man,” commented Tamar. “He has correctly determined what our plans are. We are not strong enough to take on his whole army. Do we dare to let him travel to the Valley of Bones with so many men?”

  “The Valley of Bones is where we want him,” replied Bakhai. “That is why I told him about it. I am more concerned for the elves at this point. If he spreads his men out to the width of the forest, many elves will die trying to slow down his march. He will force them onto the plains, and they will be easily seen.”

  “No they won’t,” smiled Princess Alahara. “Humans should never trust their eyes when they are up against the elves.”

  “Illusions?” asked Tamar.

  “Illusions,” nodded the elven princess. “What the Motangans think is the edge of the forest will not even be near the edge. We will create an illusion of plains and extend it into the forest on both sides. Our people can hide in that part of the forest that the humans cannot see.”

  Tamar grinned broadly. “You have adapted to the ways of the elves quickly,” he commented. “King Avalar would be proud.”

  Alahara smiled at Tamar, but her eyes saddened as she turned to Bakhai. “This premer sounds as if he cares for you, Bakhai. You accomplished much during your infiltration. Why are you sad?”

  “I do not know,” admitted Bakhai. “When he began to talk about me, I feared that he would see the Valley of Bones as the trap that it is meant to be.”

  “What does it matter wha
t the premer thinks?” asked Tamar. “Our task is to kill them all. Perhaps we would be wise to ignite the forest and force the Motangans onto the plains. The Fakarans could then charge into their ranks and destroy them all.”

  Princess Alahara’s eyebrow rose as she stared at Tamar, but Bakhai shook his head vigorously.

  “No,” Bakhai said adamantly. “Our task is not to kill them all. Our goal is to end this invasion. If the Astor had believed in such tactics in the past, there would be no Fakaran horsemen now. They would have all been destroyed in the war with the Jiadin. We kill only because we must kill to win, but if there is a better way, I know that Rejji would want to try it.”

  “Is that why you wanted to lure them into the Valley of Bones?” asked Alahara. “Are you trying to duplicate what Rejji did to Grulak’s men?”

  “It might work again,” Bakhai shrugged unconvincingly. “It is worth a try.”

  “Not with over a hundred thousand men,” Alahara shook her head. “When Grulak’s men were defeated, they were already mentally prepared to quit. They were severally demoralized and ready to end the fighting, and there were only twenty thousand of them. Even then we had to let them go free. We cannot afford to do that with the Motangans. Cardijja’s army is larger than Grulak’s ever was, and there is another army at Vandegar that must be defeated.”

  “And Cardijja’s men are only tired,” added Tamar, “not demoralized. If we give them the chance to sleep, they will attack us with a renewed vigor. We can still lose this war, Bakhai. Take nothing for granted.”

  “If you burn this forest and force the Motangans onto the plains,” countered Bakhai, “the tribes can attack them, but we will lose thousands upon thousands of men to defeat them. Rejji cannot afford such losses if we are to march on Vandegar. Perhaps if I reentered the Motangan camp and spoke to Premer Cardijja, he would see the need to surrender.”

  Princess Alahara frowned as she wove another air tunnel. Within minutes she had located Rejji and explained the situation to him.

  “You cannot stop the Motangans from marching,” replied the Astor. “You just don’t have enough archers to halt such a massive army, and the tribes cannot attack in the forest. Cardijja will march his army into the Valley of Bones. We cannot stop him from doing so, but we can plan to make sure that he does not ever leave it. I will post the Jiadin at the western exit from the Valley of Bones. The free tribes will block the east after the Motangans are enclosed in the valley.”

  “And in the meantime?” asked the elven princess.

  “Show me what the elves can do to an enemy, Mistake,” grinned the Astor. “Harass them. Kill them. Terrorize them. Do not unnecessarily endanger the elves, but lessen the number of Motangans that must be dealt with in the Valley of Bones.”

  “Will you be at the valley?” asked Alahara.

  “Everyone will be at the Valley of Bones,” answered Rejji. “It is the final battle for Premer Cardijja and his men. Once the Motangans enter the valley, they will not be allowed to leave again.”

  “Do not mistake these Motangans for Jiadin,” warned Alahara. “These men know how to climb cliffs. Merely sealing the exits from the valley will not contain Cardijja’s men. They have no horses to worry about.”

  “That is why the elves will be needed there,” replied Rejji. “Your archers will hold the high ground and deny any escape up the cliffs. The Qubari will seal the exits, and the tribes will prepare to charge into the valley to finish off the Motangans. Before two nights have passed, the Motangan army will no longer exist.”

  “What if I ask for their surrender?” Bakhai said into the air tunnel. “Maybe we can avoid all of this killing.”

  “No, Bakhai,” Rejji replied sternly. “Under no circumstances are you to enter their camp. They would immediately know that you have spied on them, and I am not prepared to sacrifice my brother for such a fruitless plan. We cannot expect the surrender of such a large army. Cardijja is not a fool. If he can get sleep for his men, he can still march on Angragar and seize it for Vand.”

  After agreeing to Rejji’s plan, Princess Alahara dropped the air tunnel and called for the mages. She explained what she wanted in terms of illusions and then called for a meeting of the unit leaders. The elven officers gathered around, and the princess explained the plan. Bakhai quickly grew bored with the discussion. He rose and paced the forest, inexplicably being drawn towards the Motangan encampment. As he stood in the darkness peering at the Motangan sentries from the cover of a tree, Cardijja’s words replayed in his mind. He was not entirely sure why, but Premer Cardijja appeared to be a reasonable man to Bakhai. While the Motangans had to be halted, the thought of killing them all did not sit well. Bakhai had hoped that the Valley of Bones would allow for a Motangan surrender, but no one else believed that possible, especially not the Motangans.

  * * *

  Premer Cardijja winced as another volley of elven arrows sailed into the camp. Scores of Motangans fell to the arrows. The red-clad soldiers fired back, but they were firing blindly. The elves were so well concealed that they might as well have been invisible.

  “When will this end?” asked General Luggar. “We cannot just sit here and endure this.”

  “No, we can’t,” agreed the premer. “I had hoped for some element of surprise when we made our move, but this attack is far longer than the last. Sound the call for the men to move northward. If we are to die, let us do it as warriors, not targets.”

  General Luggar signaled a soldier, and the man blew hard on his horn. As if eagerly awaiting the signal, thousands of Motangan soldiers immediately rose in the center of the encampment, shouts of war ripping through the air. The center of the camp surged to the north as the men on the perimeter stepped aside. The Motangans charged into the darkness of the forest, their voices shouting death to the hidden elves. As the men along the camp perimeter held their positions, the rest of the Motangans surged after the vanguard. They spread out at angles to encompass the entire width of the forest, or what they perceived to be the edge of the forest.

  “The elves to the north must have been defeated,” noted the general. “There are no more arrows coming in from that direction.”

  “More likely they retreated,” Premer Cardijja shook his head. “Even with a good hiding spot, I would not stand in the path of this army. The elves will halt and fire at the vanguard and then retreat again. Let’s mount up.”

  The officers mounted and rode into the center of the marching army. When the bulk of the Motangans had pushed northward, the perimeter guards folded in towards the center of the camp and became the rear guard for the advance to the north.

  “The men appear more energetic than I would have expected,” commented Luggar as they rode protected in the mass of Motangan soldiers.

  “That will not last,” replied Cardijja. “They had a small amount of sleep, but they are quickly wearing themselves out. I expect the elves will continue to harass us throughout this march northward. The sooner we reach the Valley of Bones, the better.”

  “And the Fakaran horsemen?” questioned the general. “Will they be waiting for us between the forest and the valley?”

  “That is something that we must plan for,” nodded the premer. “I have given orders to halt at the edge of the forest. At that point we should have elves only behind us. I intend to exit the forest in the daylight. I would rather suffer an elven attack at night than another devastating charge from the horsemen.”

  “What if we can get the elves to move from their concealment by pushing them onto the plain?” questioned the general.

  “Then the elves will die,” the premer said with hope in his voice. “They are excellent archers, but they must be far fewer than we are. If they leave their concealment, we will attack them and destroy them.”

  The officers rode on in silence for some time. The sounds of battle were evident from both the vanguard and the tail of the column. While there were no reports from the rear, the results of the battle at the front of the column w
ere evident. A steady trail of Motangan bodies was visible to the officers even in the darkness of the forest.

  “We are losing many men,” General Luggar finally said as his horse stepped over a body. “Most of the elves must be before us.”

  “We are losing too many,” frowned Premer Cardijja. “I would gladly trade ten thousand men for a decent night’s sleep for the rest, but we may end up losing even more than that. These soldiers are at the end of their endurance.”

  “We all are,” the general said softly. “I will be glad when this night ends, and we exit this forest of death.”

  * * *

  In front of the Motangan vanguard, a group of elven archers fired arrows into the advancing enemy. They started in the center of the vanguard and worked their way towards the edges of the forest where they stepped into the illusion and regrouped. The group of elves then raced northward inside the illusion while another group of elves repeated the procedure. The result was a constant attack on the Motangan vanguard, and red-clad bodies littered the forest floor.

  When the elves reached the northern limit of the forest, they used the illusion to safely pass southward and join up with the rest of the elves that had been harassing the tail of the Motangan column. The Motangan army halted at the northern edge of the forest and took up a defensive posture as they waited for the sun to rise.

  Chapter 36

  Valley of Bones

  The sun had barely risen above the horizon when Premer Cardijja gave the order to march onto the plain. Thousands of red-clad soldiers stepped hesitantly out of the forest, expecting the Fakaran horsemen to appear at any moment. When the horsemen did not appear, many of the soldiers smiled in relief. Premer Cardijja and General Luggar rode out of the forest and gazed at the yawning mouth of the valley in the distance.

  “It will take more than a few hours to reach the valley,” frowned General Luggar.