D & D - Red Sands

by Tonya R. Carter

  Horns blared all over the camp of the beast-men. Those who were not assembled to face the supposed cavalry attack streamed to the point of alarm.

  At that moment, the first flue exploded.

  A brilliant gush of flame erupted from one tower of the Joj Xarar, igniting all the gas that lingered in the still air over the crater. Tongues of blue fire swirled around the tower, and the detonation made the ground tremble. A blast of boiling air lashed at the companions huddled around the second flue. Nabul cried out.

  "What is it?" said Jadira.

  "My eyes—I was looking at the flue—I can't see!"

  She tore his clutching hands away and examined his eyes. His eyelids were already puffing. Soon, his eyes would be swollen shut.

  "Listen," she said. "The flash burned your eyelids. I'm sure it didn't hurt your eyes." She grimaced at her lie; she was not at all sure. "Once the swelling goes down, you'll be all right again."

  "I'm blind! Blind! What good is a blind thief?"

  Jadira cast about wildly. Uramettu was nowhere in sight. Marix was slapping the sparks of flame that had started on his strap. Tamakh finally snagged the slow-match and had it pressed between his hands.

  "Be still, Nabul. Everything will be well," she urged. Jadira ripped a strip of cloth from his sleeve and tied it around his head to protect his eyes. She guided him back to the crater wall and sat him down. "I'll be near," she promised. "Stay here."

  The majority of the gnoles had thrown themselves on the ground when the first flue ignited. The beast-men were cruel and savage fighters, but they were also superstitious. The damping of the sacred flames they took as a good omen; the return was an obvious sign of the gods' wrath.

  Through the milling chaos came Ubrith Zelka. The general berated and kicked his troops to their feet. Jadira didn't need an interpreter to know what Zelka's words meant. She watched as every gnole rose slowly to his feet and stood, head low, accepting the general's abuse.

  Tamakh was descending. Hitting the cinders, his knees folded. He pitched on his face and lay on the ground, unmoving. Jadira turned him over.

  "Holy One! Are you well?" she asked.

  "I live," he said feebly. His face and arms were scratched raw from rubbing against the abrasive chimney.

  Marix came slipping and sliding down. His clothes were smoking, and the hair on the left side of his head was singed. "Whew!" he said. "What a blast! Now I know what a tallow candle feels like!"

  "Are you hurt?" jadira asked anxiously.

  "Nay, nay, not so much as a broken bone." His expression gladdened when he recognized her concern. "And you, my love?"

  "Close to screaming, but my skin is unpierced. If we could find Uramettu, we could be gone."

  Marix regarded the burning flue. The rear of the bowl was now in high light. "The 'strelli should be on the wing even now."

  "We can't wait for them. We must flee!"

  They managed to get Tamakh on his feet. At the crater wall, Nabul was crawling on his knees, feeling for the escape ropes. He found one and stood up. "Hurry!" he said. "The second flue will burn soon!"

  "Where's Uramettu?" exclaimed Jadira. "We can't leave without her!"

  "Here." Uramettu was woman once more. She said, "I had to deal with some of Zelka's gnoles." As Uramettu stepped into the ruddy glare of the Joj Xarar, Jadira saw that her abbreviated dress was soaked in blood. Uramettu followed Jadira's eyes and looked down at herself. "Calm yourself," she said. "This is not mine."

  The gnole general had succeeded in massing a fairly stable band of soldiers in the open ground between the cooking fires. Wielding a formidable knout, he whipped his troops into a rough square, bellowing the whole time in a voice like thunder. The gnoles locked their rectangular shields together with their javelins poking out. At Zelka's command, the spiny formation lurched forward.

  "Now is the time to depart," said Marix. He leaped and caught the knotted rope overhead. Uramettu went up the next rope.

  "Go on, Nabul," said Jadira. "bu can climb, can't you?"

  Hearing the general's roar and the clatter of the approaching beast-men, Nabul needed no further urging. He shinnied up the rope so quickly he passed Marix, who had had a considerable headstart.

  "Come, Holy One. Let me tie this one to you," said Jadira.

  He waved a hand. "No, child. Leave me. I am too weak. Even should you manage to hoist me to the crater rim, I would never be able to run from our pursuers."

  "Nonsense! You'll get your second wind by then."

  Tamakh closed his eyes. "I am foredone. Save yourself."

  From overhead, Marix called, "Jadira! Tamakh! For Tuus' sake, climb!"

  "Tamakh won't go," she shouted back. The phalanx of gnoles had passed the spot where the wolf had died. Jadira could see their sweat-stained jerkins and yellow teeth. The points of their weapons dipped and wavered with each cadenced step as they advanced.

  "Hear me, priest," she said fiercely. "You've no right to give up your life! We all need you! We can't go on without your wisdom and guidance. You're condemning us all by lying here, so get on your feet!

  Thus urged, Tamakh managed to rise. Jadira tied the rope under his arms and shouted, "All of you up there! Pull! As hard as you can!"

  Marix, Uramettu, and Nabul braced their feet and heaved, and Tamakh shot off the ground. Jadira grabbed the nearest free rope and started up herself. Her arms ached, but she thought of the beast-men below and kept climbing.

  The block of gnoles halted between the Joj Xarar. The front rank of spearmen knelt, revealing crossbowmen in the second rank. At Zelka's command, the bowmen took aim on the only two targets they had: Tamakh and

  Jadira.

  "Kassu!"

  A hornets' swarm of quarrels riddled the air. They ricocheted off the wall around Jadira, the square iron heads striking sparks. There was a pause as the bowmen reloaded. "Kassu!" the gnole general cried again. Something stung Jadira's leg. Dampness spread down her right calf. Mitaali, I'm hit, she thought.

  The second flue took fire with a blast not much less than the first. Jadira banged into the wall, spun, was sucked outward by the torrent of heated air, and dashed against the rocks again. The impact numbed her, but she clung fervently to the rope.

  The gnoles were scattered like chaff. Only Ubrith Zelka himself stood unbowed. The Joj Xarar lit up the crater bowl like day, and from where he stood, the general could see Marix, Uramettu, and Nabul on the rim. He called to his colonel of skirmishers. The colonel ran, tripping over the cringing soldiers on the ground, to his commander's side.

  Marix clutched a handful of Tamakh's toga and hauled the heavy priest to safety. "I'll wager you're glad to be here!" he said. Tamakh did not reply. Neither did he move. Uramettu turned him over. A dark, wet stain spread over his right side.

  "He's hit," was all she said.

  Marix hauled furiously onjadira's rope. The top of her headdress appeared at the rim. He almost wept with relief. She put out a hand. He grasped her wrist and helped her up. She fell into his arms.

  "You're safe. You're safe," he said, holding her close. Even as he spoke the words, he saw the skirmishers forming on the plain around them. At least a hundred gnoles, fast-moving and lightly armed, had surrounded the companions on three sides. The fourth side was the sheer drop back into the crater. The beast-men held off at a hundred paces, awaiting their general's word to close for the kill.

  Winged Victory

  Jadira was almost paralyzed. Her leg wound was only a cut, made by a flying rock chip. It was the gnoles who terrified her. There seemed to be no escape this time.

  "His wound is not mortal," Uramettu said of Tamakh. "The arrow passed through the flesh without striking anything vital. A leaner man would be dead."

  "It hardly seems to matter," said Jadira.

  "What? What is it?" said Nabul, trying desperately to peer through his swollen eyelids.

  "We are surrounded. The beast-men are coming for us."

  Marix struck a defiant pose. "Then
we shall entertain them to the last! Do you have the bow?"

  "What good is it?" Jadira said. "Three arrows against a hundred spears?" Marix lifted her sagging head until iheir eyes met.

  "This from a Sudiin of Sudiin? Are you afraid to die?" he asked.

  "I'd rather live, you and I together."

  Uramettu finished bandaging Tamakh's wound. "We

  must fight," she said. "Fight until the enemy strikes us down."

  They disposed themselves in a semicircle around Tamakh. Uramettu gave Nabul the javelin shaft Tamakh had carried. "Don't worry about seeing them," she advised. "When you hear them close in, lay about in front of you with this stick."

  A single voice rang from the ranks of the gnoles. At a command, the ranks of javelins fell into place. There was a roll of drums, and the line began to move.

  "Where are the 'strelli?" Jadira wondered. Though the sky was well lit by the flaming Joj Xarar, not even a bat fluttered over the crater.

  "Oh you gods, who number thirty, accept this unworthy one into the realm of paradise. You gods, whose names are Rau, Taalbah, Subaith . . ."

  While Nabul prayed, Jadira waited, tapping the shaft of her third arrow against the grip of the bow. She glanced at Marix. Sooty and singed, he still embodied a jaunty air of martial ardor. The scimitar hung casually from his right hand as his left was planted firmly on his hip. On the other side, Uramettu leaned on her spear. Her wide, liquid-brown eyes followed the progress of the gnoles with calm detachment.

  Fifty paces. Death was halfway to them. Jadira checked for the 'strelli again. The sky was clear. She cursed the flying folk as worthless allies. She wrapped a finger around the tapping arrow shaft to still it.

  "... Kabrax, Raleg, Mortum, Shimdawi. . ." Nabul's litany went on.

  "Do you know what the worst of this is?" Jadira said quietly. The gnole sergeants calling cadence could now be seen, head and shoulders taller than the rank and file.

  "What?" said Marix.

  "We'll never have children."

  His expression of astonishment was so complete she asked what he had expected her to say. "That you would regret not being able to kill that Faziri captain," he said.

  "There is that, also."

  Twenty paces. She could see the hack marks on the gnoles' lacquered shields. At ten paces, the right and left blocks halted. The center came on. Jadira drew a bead on the tallest, loudest gnole. He must certainly be an officer. The gnole's helmeted head wavered over the point of the arrow. Why try so hard to aim? she thought. It will strike home somewhere.

  She relaxed. The fear, the feeling of impending loss slipped away. She was with her friends and the man she loved. It was a good time, a good place to die.

  The gnoles stopped. The officer at the rear of the phalanx was looking back over his shoulder. He bellowed something Jadira didn't understand. The gnoles unlocked their shields and began to turn around.

  "By Tuus! Would you look at that!" said Marix.

  "I wish I could!" moaned Nabul. "What's happen-ing?"

  "They're turning away!"

  "But why?" Uramettu said. The gnoles on their left were turning too. And then, four bright notes from a t rumpet split the air. A body of horsemen appeared on the flat beyond the crater rim. Pennants whipped from their lance tips.

  "Faziris! The Invincibles are here!" said Jadira.

  Marad and the troopers had ridden hard to find their lost captain. From a plateau a quarter league away, the Faziris saw the Joj Xarar burst into life. By their flames, Marad saw the drama on the crater rim unfold—five brave humans besieged by twenty times their number of outraged gnoles. He did not hesitate. He gave the order to charge.

  The lancers slammed into the beast-men at full gallop. The lightly equipped skirmishers were no match for heavy horsemen. They fell under the mailed onslaught of the Invincibles even though they strongly outnumbered the Faziris. The whole right flank company broke and ran as the Faziri trumpeter blew 'Free Chase' while standing triumphantly in his stirrups.

  Marix ran forward and engaged the nearest gnole. The skirmisher parried the sword with his javelin and banged with his shield until Marix lost his footing. The gnole raised his javelin for the kill, but Uramettu swept his legs out from under him with her spear shaft. Marix jumped up and finished the job.

  Jadira moved forward a few steps. Nabul was shouting over the din of battle even though he still could not see a thing. The gnoles' front burst asunder, and mounted men four abreast tore through. While the troopers harried the remaining gnoles, Marad rode up to Uramettu and Marix. "I am Marad ga.ii Rafikiya, of the Invincible Cavalry of His Magnificence the Sultan—may he live forever!"

  "Marix, third son of Count Fernald of Dosen."

  "Uramettu, daughter of Ondakoto and Isanfaela."

  The Faziri nodded curtly. "Is Captain Fu'ad with you?" he said.

  "No, but we know where he is," said Marix.

  "You will take me to him." A thrown javelin struck quivering at the feet of Marad's horse. The animal shied, but the lieutenant reined him in sharply. "You will return our captain to us unharmed, or I shall ride away and leave you to your fate."

  Jadira appeared, leading Nabul. She heard Marad's threat. She said, "If we are killed, you will never find him."

  "I will not haggle with you, nomad. Give me my captain!"

  "You have no choice. We have one wounded and one blinded. Take us out of here and we'll give you your precious captain," she said.

  Marad scowled. " Very well. But afterward—"

  "Afterward is meaningless if we're killed," she said pointedly. Marad called in some of his men. After putting the unconscious Tamakh in the hands of a burly horseman, each of the companions mounted a Faziri horse behind an Invincible. The trumpeter sounded recall, and the troopers assembled. The flat was littered with fallen gnoles. Marad's band was intact.

  "Where to?" he said to Jadira, who was holding him about the waist.

  "Down into the crater," she replied. "To the village of the 'strelli."

  "Company, follow me," he said. The lancers formed into a column and spurred away from the scene of the fight.

  "There's a natural ramp leading into the bowl," said jadira, "about five hundred paces ahead on the left."

  They found the ramp. Marad led his men down. Halfway round the spiraling path, they ran head-on into a mass of gnoles. Quarrels flicked from crossbows. Faziri saddles were emptied.

  "Come about!" cried Marad. "Go back the other way!"

  The horsemen galloped up the ramp. At the top, they met some of the skirmishers, who were trying to find Ubrith Zelka's main force. Marad and his men trampled them and kept going.

  "Now what?" he asked.

  "Ride!" Jadira said.

  More and more gnoles popped up from hiding places. Quarrels, arrows, javelins, and throwing axes rained on the Faziris. More troopers fell. Marix found himself alone on his horse. He crouched low over the animal's neck and dug in his heels.

  The flat ground dwindled to an expanse of broken rock and boulders. Gnoles with halberds were picking their way over the broken ground toward the trapped horsemen. One ugly specimen clambered onto a boulder as high as Marad's horse. He swung his halberd in a wide arc. Marad fended him off with his lance. Jadira fumbled for the efreet bow.

  Suddenly, the halberdier dropped his weapon and pitched forward. Deep red cuts showed on his back. Other gnoles were similarly cut down around them.

  "Is this magic?" asked Marad.

  "No! The 'strelli have come at last!"

  A small gray form settled on a rock. Wings spread wide, ankle blades bright with gnole blood, Elperex whistled a shrill song of victory.

  "We have come, walking friends!" he piped. "Even as I speak, the pip'strelli scour the crater below clean of the foul rapa."

  "What took you so long?" demanded Jadira.

  "It was the decision of my mate Elperath that we should not strike until all the tribes had gathered," said Elperex. "But rejoice, walking friends! The ni
ght of deliverance is here!"

  It was true. In ever-increasing swarms, the arriving 'strelli picked off the gnoles. Isolated and unorganized, the beast-men on the crater rim were easy prey. In the bowl, it was another matter. Many 'strelli flew for the last time that night, for Ubrith Zelka and his best troops fought on and on.

  When the first glow of dawn came to the mountains, the sounds of combat had ceased. The silence was not merely a token of death, but also of exhaustion and victory.

  Jadira awoke in Marix's arms. All around them the surviving Faziri troopers dozed like dead men beneath their horses. They'd gotten no more than a notch of sleep.

  She shook Marix awake. Marad stirred nearby. Uramettu stretched her long legs and poked Nabul. The thief unwound the wrapping from his eyes. The swelling was much less now, and he could see.

  "How's Tamakh?" asked Jadira. Her voice was a dry rasp. Uramettu gently patted the injured priest's face. His eyes opened.

  "Have you joined me in the next world?" he asked Uramettu.

  "We've not left this one yet, Holy One."

  She helped him sit up. He groaned from pain but managed to stay upright. When he recognized the trappings of the Faziri soldiers, his face displayed a flash of panic. Then Uramettu explained what had happened after he was wounded.

  "How ironic. Those who want our death saved our lives," he said.

  "We shall see," Marix replied. "For here we are still in the midst of them."

  Marad rose and buckled on his sword belt. "You are indeed, young lord. And now, if you please, take us to

  Captain Fu'ad." His tone was not as polite as his words.

  Slowly the weary troopers shook off the burden of slumber and remounted their equally exhausted horses. Jadira and her companions had to walk. She led them to the ramp so hotly contested the night before.