Sergeant Dilney was not so foolish as to stare at the blinding light. His eyes scanned the Alcean ring to measure the strength of the enemy, but they stopped when he saw the same golden-haired warrior that he had seen at the western perimeter. The sergeant had a gut feeling that he was looking at the leader of the Rangers, a feeling that was strengthen by the three odd people surrounding him. Two red-headed men and one woman sat on unicorns near the golden-haired warrior, and none of them carried a weapon. Sergeant Dilney found himself drawn towards them and did not realize that he was actually walking until he bumped into General Kozinski who was also heading towards the area of the shield wall opposite the four unique Alceans. The sergeant quickly apologized to the general, but Kozinski did not even acknowledge him. The general was staring intently at the Alceans.
“Your men will cease wasting their arrows,” the golden-haired warrior demanded in a loud booming voice. “I am Alexander Tork, General Kozinski, and I have come to demand your surrender.”
General Kozinski did not respond immediately. He turned in a slow circle gazing upon the enemy surrounding him. Eventually, he returned to face Alexander Tork.
“You are bold, Tork,” stated the Spinoan general, “but no army can breech a Federation shield wall once it is properly situated. You seem to have more men than we had anticipated, but not enough to demand our surrender. I suggest you take your flag of truce and depart. I will not yield to you.”
Sergeant Dilney shuddered as the golden-haired warrior actually smiled at the general’s words.
“There is no flag of truce here, General,” Alex retorted. “Let me explain the situation to you. Your men are not only surrounded by Alcean Rangers, they are also trapped inside a magic shield. That shield will prohibit the movement of anything physical through it. That is why your arrows failed to escape your circle. You cannot harm us, and you cannot leave. You are trapped until you surrender.”
“We have no intention of leaving,” countered the general. “This is a Federation shield wall. It is meant to stand against our foes, and stand it will. If your words are true about this magical barrier, then you have managed to outsmart yourself. If we can’t leave, neither can you attack us. We merely have to wait for the 7th Corps to arrive to break this deadlock.”
“Deadlock?” echoed Alex. “You truly do not understand. We are seeking your surrender to avoid killing all of you, but you are too stubborn to understand that. You seem to think that everyone should kneel before the all-mighty Federation, but it is time for you to learn the truth. Allow me to introduce you to one of the Tyronians whose country you recently savaged. I do not think you will enjoy his form of welcome. Theos, explain to General Kozinski what it means not to surrender.”
“Gladly,” replied one of the red-haired men.
Sergeant Dilney cringed as the Tyronian raised a hand and pointed it at the shield wall to the left of General Kozinski. Flames shot from the Tyronian’s hand and passed through the invisible shield. An entire squad burst into flames. Sergeant Dilney watched in horror as the men screamed and tried to put out the flames. Some of the men ran into the clear area behind the shield wall where others tried to extinguish the flames. Those were the lucky ones. Others tried to run the other way, and they ran headlong into the invisible shield, falling to the ground and screaming as the flames took their lives. None of the other soldiers were willing to leave the shield wall to go forward to help their stricken comrades.
“Our mages have no problem with sending spells through the magical wall,” stated Alex. “It only affects physical objects. So you see, General, there is no deadlock here. You will surrender, or you will die.”
“Before you stubbornly respond,” the woman said quickly, “think of your men, General Kozinski. If you surrender, they will be fed and cared for until their eventual return to Spino. King Arik truly does not wish to kill them. Do not let your stubbornness deprive them of a return to their homes and families.”
The words had been said to the general, but immediate murmurs broke out throughout the shield wall. The general frowned as he turned and looked at his soldiers. Each man he focused on immediately averted his eyes when the general looked at him. Kozinski sighed. He could almost feel the aura of defeat hanging over his army. Still, the 7th Corps was only a couple of thousand paces away. Surely he could figure out a way to stall until help arrived. As he surveyed his army, a small whirlwind appeared in the center of the circle of soldiers. The whirlwind started to grow in strength and size, and the general whirled around to glare at the Tyronian mage, but it was the woman whose arm was extended towards the Spinoans.
“You seem to have trouble making up your mind, General,” she said, her voice loud and clear to the entire 17th Corps. “I will help you come to a decision. Any man who wishes to surrender may do so by throwing his weapons into the whirlwind. We will not harm anyone who does so. Those who keep their weapons will die before dawn.”
Several soldiers did not hesitate. They immediately threw their swords and bows into the whirlwind, drawing cries of outrage and scorn from other soldiers. One of the offended soldiers drew his sword and ran towards one of those surrendering, shouts of vengeance on his lips. Theos raised his arm and sent a ball of fire into the sword-bearing soldier. The stricken man screamed in pain and fell to the ground, the flames devouring him. For a brief moment, the entire 17th Corps remained frozen. No one stepped forward to help the burning man, and no one else tried to threaten those surrendering.
“The most despicable act known to man,” scowled Theos, “is to kill a brother who only wants to live to see his home and family again. I will not see harm come to those who wish to surrender. If you think a soldier should fight to the death, you merely have to hold on to your own weapons. You will get your chance to die in the service of the Federation.”
The Tyronian’s words seemed to break the frozen mood of the 17th Corps. A few soldiers stepped out of the shield wall and threw their weapons into the whirlwind. Those few brave men seemed to open the faucet of reality. Within seconds, entire sections of the shield wall broke, the men tossing their weapons into a constantly growing whirlwind. General Kozinski watched helplessly as his army fell apart. He thought briefly about berating his men to get them to comply with his orders, but he sighed instead. His words alone would never overcome the hold that the Alceans held on the 17th Corps. With a heavy sigh of resignation, he drew his own sword and held it high over his head.
“The 17th Corps of Spino surrenders,” he said loudly. “Each and every man will throw his weapons into the whirlwind. I will stand for no exceptions.”
The general walked towards the whirlwind and threw his sword into it. As all of his men began to mimic his move, the general returned to face the Alcean leaders.
“We are surrendering honorably,” he said to Alex. “I demand just treatment for my men as prisoners.”
“And you shall have it,” promised Alex. “As was said before, your men will be fed and cared for until their eventual return to Spino.”
* * * *
Colonel Shellard slid off his horse and stood next to the fire. He was not sure how the horse had managed to move closer to the burning barricade, but he was thankful that it had. The ice had taken a long time to melt, and he was now drenched with wet clothes, but the warmth of the flames felt wonderful. He watched as steam rose off his clothes and wondered about drying the horse. He looked at it and shook his head, fearful that the exposure to ice might have harmed it. Beyond his horse were several others belonging to men of his regiment who no longer needed them. He tore himself away from the warmth of the fire and snagged one of the other horses. He pulled himself up and kicked the horse to life. Galloping southward along the Coastal Highway, the night breeze chilled him like it never had before. He pushed the discomfort from his mind and concentrated on reaching General Bledsoe. When he finally saw the Baroukan general, he sighed with relief.
“What happened to you?” called out Colonel Sawar. “Fall in a river?�
��
Colonel Shellard ignored the questions. He halted his horse and dismounted, issuing a sharp salute to the general.
“The 17th Corps is in danger, General,” Colonel Shellard said with a sense of urgency. “I need your reserves to save them.”
“General Kozinski can take care of himself,” scoffed General Bledsoe. “He is a fine general. Did he send you here?”
“No,” Colonel Shellard replied.
“I thought not,” stated General Bledsoe. “Explain yourself.”
“My regiment was destroyed earlier,” reported Colonel Shellard. “I alone survived, and that was only because of a freak occurrence. General Kozinski has the remains of the 17th Corps in a circular shield wall, waiting for the Alceans to attack, but has no idea what is heading towards him. I overheard them talking. They plan to use their mages to eliminate the entire 17th Corps.”
“Preposterous,” ridiculed General Bledsoe. “General Kozinski knows how to fight against mages. They die just like any other man.”
“Or woman?” retorted Colonel Shellard. “The people I heard talking were Alex and Jenneva.”
“Are you serious?” gasped Colonel Sawar. “I thought they were mythical?”
“They are real,” replied Colonel Shellard.
“Who are these people?” demanded General Bledsoe.
“They are Knights of Alcea,” answered Colonel Sawar. “The stories told about them in Tagaret appeared farfetched and exaggerated. That is why I thought they were mythical. According to one story, Jenneva used her magic to split a mountain in half, forcing half of it to fall on a goblin army.”
“And she is not the only mage they have,” interjected Colonel Shellard. “There is red-headed man who was with the Alceans opposite the northern perimeter. When I arrived there, he was using magic to burn the barricades. Our people could do nothing to stop him. Their arrows were blocked from reaching him somehow.”
“I don’t care how powerful she is,” scowled General Bledsoe. “Two mages are not going to destroy ten-thousand men.”
“The 17th Corps is no longer ten-thousand men,” frowned Colonel Shellard. “We have already lost several thousand to the Alceans Rangers, including my entire regiment.” The colonel sighed anxiously as he gazed into the unyielding face of General Bledsoe. “General, I was frozen by a magical spell cast at me when I tried to attack Alexander Tork. My horse was frozen, too. That is the only reason I survived the carnage at the northern perimeter. Every other man died to the Rangers. These are warriors unlike any other we have ever seen. To talk of their deeds might sound exaggerating, but if you tour the battlefield, you will not find many of their black-clad bodies on it. These men and their mages are not something to be ignored. I plead with you to send the reserves to General Kozinski’s aid. I came straight here to request them because I truly believe that they are the only hope for the 17th Corps.”
The general frowned. “You came here explicitly to request my reserves?”
“Yes.” The Spinoan colonel nodded. “Those three regiments will make all the difference in the world.”
“And how did you know that I had held back three regiments?” asked the general. “I never notified General Kozinski about them.”
It was the Spinoan’s turn to frown. “Alex and Jenneva knew about them,” he gasped. “I remember her saying that only those three regiments could foil their plan. She specifically called them reserves, and Alex said not to worry about them. He said that a Baroukan general would never send them to the aid of a Spinoan. How could she have known?”
“That is nonsense,” scoffed Colonel Sawar. “Baroukans and Spinoans stand together in this team. Alex and Jenneva might be great heroes to Alcea, but they have made a fatal mistake with such foolish thoughts. Our reserves will crush them.”
“You need to get some dry clothes on, Colonel,” General Bledsoe said casually to the Spinoan colonel. “You may be called upon yet again this night. Best you be prepared.”
“I will get him some clothes,” offered Colonel Sawar.
“No,” the general said quickly as he waved for a sergeant to join the group. “A lesser officer can handle such a duty. Go with the sergeant, Colonel Shellard. He will see that you get what you need.”
The Spinoan colonel nodded, and the general instructed the sergeant. As soon as the two men were gone, Colonel Sawar frowned deeply and spoke softly to the general.
“You aren’t thinking of holding up the reserves, are you?”
“Something stinks about this whole battle,” stated the Baroukan general. “How many men were attacking from the south before they retreated?”
“Two or three thousand,” answered the colonel. “The shield wall should easily hold them now that we have it properly assembled. We really can afford to send the reserves to help the Spinoans.”
“Right.” General Bledsoe nodded. “That much is obvious, so what are we missing?”
“Missing?” echoed the colonel. “I don’t understand.”
“The Alceans are toying with us, Colonel,” explained the general. “They actually want us to send the reserves northward. That is why they allowed Colonel Shellard to hear them talking, and that is why they added the part about Baroukans not wanting to help Spinoans. That comment was made specifically to make it harder to refuse the request.”
“You think Alex and Jenneva intentionally let Shellard live?”
“Absolutely. If we are to believe that the Alcean Rangers and their mages are truly capable of annihilating the entire 17th Corps, why would they be so foolish as to leave an officer alive who could conveniently carry their words to me? It makes no sense. They want my reserves removed from here, but they don’t have the numbers necessary to breech our shield wall, so they should never even make it this far. What is their real plan? How are they getting through the shield wall?”
“Do you think they mean to outflank the shield wall?” asked the colonel.
“No,” answered the general. “To do so would put them between Kozinski and us. Besides, drawing the reserves north would hamper their own efforts if they meant to outflank us. Unlike the shield wall, the reserves are mounted. They can react with great speed.”
“Unless they are eliminated,” gasped the colonel. “The attack on the 17th Corps is probably a ruse. The Rangers seek to take on our reserves and eliminate them. That is the real plan.”
The general nodded. “That is what I am thinking, and that is precisely why our reserves are staying put. Get back to your shield wall, Colonel. Expect a desperate attack from the south. Hold that line and crush our enemies. Bring me the head of King Arik.”
Colonel Sawar saluted and ran for his horse. In the dark, hovering over General Bledsoe, a tiny, green man also departed, but his wings carried him much faster than any horse could run. Prince Midge darted upward and soared southward. Within moments, he landed on the shoulder of King Arik.
“The reserves will not be leaving General Bledsoe’s side,” Prince Midge reported. “He is expecting your charge on the shield wall, and he is keeping those three regiments in reserve. Our plans have failed.”
“A plan has failed,” corrected the King of Alcea, “but the night is not over, and I am not out of plans. Bitsy just brought encouraging news from the north, and that brings another plan to mind. I need you to carry a message to Alex for me.”
King Arik gave the message to Prince Midge and sent him on his way. He then asked David Jaynes to assemble the Red Swords so that he could explain the new battle plan. Once the men were assembled, the king explained to them what he expected from them. When he was finished, he drew the Sword of Heavens and held it high over his head.
“The Red Swords are among the finest fighters in the world,” the king said loudly, “and tonight you will get the chance to prove it. You will be called upon to ride faster than you ever have and kill quicker than any man should be expected to kill. You will show the enemy no mercy, for if we fail this night, Alcea will die. Only your speed and experti
se will win this battle, but I know that you will prevail. You are the Red Swords!”
“And you are the Warrior King!” shouted one of the men.
All of the men then shouted, “Long live the Warrior King!” The shouting was so loud that King Arik was sure that the Baroukans up the road must have heard it.
* * * *
Colonel Sawar arrived at the shield wall and tied his horse to a tree. He then walked the entire line telling the men to prepare for an attack. When he reached the end of the line, he turned around and began walking back. He was almost halfway along the shield wall when he heard the distant shouts. He stopped and stared at the road passing through the middle of the shield wall. The clouds had passed away from the moon, and he could see a fair distance, but there was nothing for him to see. The road was empty.
“They’re coming, aren’t they, Colonel?” one of the men in the wall asked.
“I suspect they are,” the colonel replied with a curt nod. “Let’s show them what a Federation shield wall can do when properly assembled.”
“For the empire!” shouted one of the soldiers.
“For Barouk!” shouted thousands in response.
A smile appeared on the colonel’s face, but it didn’t last long. As the sound of the shouting died, he heard the distant thunder of thousands of hooves. The Alceans were coming, and they were not coming slowly. They were galloping towards the shield line.
“They are coming in fast!” he shouted. “Stand firm and deliver death to the enemy! Hold this line!”
Colonel Sawar squinted into the night, focusing intently on the Coastal Highway. Far in the distance he saw shadows moving, and the pounding hooves grew louder. He watched as the shadows resolved into visible forms, Alcean riders hunched low for maximum speed. He could tell that the Alceans were planning to slam into the shield wall at full speed, but he also knew that such a tactic would fail. He had chosen a place for the shield wall that would allow for maximum exposure to the enemy with little room for cavalry maneuvering. So many archers would be concentrated on the charging column that none of the horses would even reach the shield wall.
13 Day War Page 59