That’s what we did. At about midnight, our men took out the three pairs of guards nearest to the wagons. After that, it was easy to lift smouldering logs from the nearest fire, put them into the wagons, and then retire quietly. The outcome was satisfactory. Although the Dornites managed to extinguish the blazes in some of the wagons, about twenty burned out completely. In addition, there was an unexpected bonus when containers of oil exploded, setting fire to a number of tents.
We retired southwards, leaving scouts to observe the camp. While our men sheltered under rock overhangs, Sharma and I planned our next move. It was clear that we only had two options -- either to try to disrupt the Dornite supply lines, if there was anything to disrupt, or to link up with our army. What to do? We sat in glum silence for a while, hugging our knees to protect ourselves from the cold. After a while, Sharma said, 'I wish I knew what the Dornites were going to do next.'
I nodded. It was going to be a waiting game. I said, ‘We don’t know exactly where our army is except that they’re somewhere up ahead. We might as well stay here and exploit any opening that the Dornites give us.’
Sharma grunted in agreement.
Just after sunrise, our scouts reported that the Dornites were moving forward in battle order. I wanted to get going immediately but Sharma put a restraining hand on my arm, saying, 'Hold it, Jina. Not so fast.'
'Hold it? Why? You don't want to hang around here, do you?'
Sharma replied quietly, 'How many men do we have?'
'You know the answer -- fifty-two, counting us.'
'Fifty-two men aren't going to make much difference.'
'Maybe not. But, damn it, we can't just hang around here. We have to do something useful.'
Sharma said, 'Then let's use our men to the best advantage.'
'How?'
'Let's not commit ourselves too early. We'll wait for an opportunity to hit the Dornites when we can have maximum effect.'
Within an hour, our force was positioned behind a ridge above the battlefield. Sharma and I went forward and looked down from a position where the Dornite army was directly below us and our army was about one thousand paces to our right, already moving forward at walking pace. The Dornites responded by moving their chariots into the centre of their line while their cavalry took up a position in the rear.
Sharma whispered, 'The ground is so wet it's practically a swamp. Their cavalry and chariots aren't going to move easily in these conditions.'
'What about us? We're also mounted.'
Sharma nodded thoughtfully. He pulled at an ear and said, 'We'd better stick to the hillsides. That way we'll be more mobile.'
As I watched the scene below, my mouth went dry and my stomach muscles tightened. I muttered, 'This waiting and watching is worse than actually being there.'
Sharma grunted in agreement. Lying shoulder to shoulder with him, I could feel that he was quivering like a great cat that has stalked its prey and now waits for just the right opportunity, the moment of its victim's greatest weakness, to pounce. I glanced at him. His tongue was flickering over his lips and the flecks in his eyes were gleaming as he gazed intently at the scene below. He gave the impression that he was on the point of leaping over the ridge to pounce on the prey below with one ferocious lunge. I put an arm around his shoulders and whispered, 'Hold steady, Sharma.'
He looked at me with veiled eyes. Then he blinked as if he was refocusing on matters nearer to hand, shook his head vigorously, and muttered, 'No problem! I'm all right.'
I held him firmly across his shoulders while the tension eased out of him and the quivering subsided. After about a minute, he looked at me and muttered, 'I just want to get at them – that's all.'
Our army continued to advance. About six hundred paces separated them from the Dornites. Then it was five hundred. Then it was four hundred. Through gritted teeth, Sharma said, 'What the hell are they doing? They're just advancing in line abreast. The Dornites will find a weak point in the line and that will be the end of them, just like the last time.'
I could only nod in agreement and grit my teeth. It was like watching a dramatic performance based on a well-known myth in which everyone in the audience knows the tragic outcome but can't do anything to change the course of events. What made it worse for me was the knowledge that my brother, Abozi, was down there somewhere and could well be a victim of the same ham-headed tactics that led to disaster at the first battle of Gandonda.
Suddenly, shouted commands reached our ears through the heavy air. Sharma gripped my arm and asked in excitement, 'Do you see that?'
I saw it, too. The unit in the centre re-formed into a square formation and lances swung into the air. During their advance, the men had trailed the lances behind them and we hadn't been able to see them. Now, in an instant, the unit bristled with sharp-pointed menace.
Sharma said, 'By Zabrazal, they're going to form a wall!'
I didn’t reply. The scene below transfixed me. It was if the script of a well known drama had changed abruptly in mid-act. In an instant, the plot was wide open and unpredictable. What had been discussed between Sharma and me on the heights above Asjolorm, sketched roughly in the dust, now became a three-dimensional scene enacted by live players.
The square moved forward at a slow walk while the wings advanced slightly ahead of it. Now there was confusion in the Dornite army. Officers scuttled around behind the ranks and the cavalry withdrew by about one hundred paces. After another series of commands, their centre opened to let the chariots through.
Sharma gripped my arm and said in elation, 'The chariots! They're playing into our hands!'
I muttered in tense excitement, ‘We’ve got them this time!’
The chariots moved sluggishly in the mud, trying to look for an opening while the square moved onto them at an inexorable pace. It was a disaster for the Dornites. The long lances skewered the horses and the drivers who tried to turn their vehicles to flee but were either held by the mud or collided with other chariots. Skirmishers from our flanks moved in to finish off any Dornites who didn't flee back to their own ranks. It was a slaughter.
The square moved forward at the same pace, opening to bypass the derelict chariots and the dead and wounded horses, and then closed ranks again as it approached the Dornite army. The men on the flanks withdrew to the rear of the square, which opened to allow them to enter. Once again, a solid monolith advanced on the Dornite ranks.
I whispered, 'We should be down there, man. There's work to do.'
Sharma licked his lips and shook his head, saying, 'Not yet, my friend, not yet. Our time will come.' He glanced behind us and said, 'But it's time for our men to prepare for action.' With his eyes fixed on the battlefield, Sharma muttered, 'Tell them to keep out of sight. When we hit the Dornites, we're going to hit them hard.'
I got to my feet, turned to go, and then on a sudden thought said, 'Perhaps we should ask Zabrazal to bless our venture.'
'And if Zabrazal declines to bless us? Will we allow the Dornites to escape while we wait on Zabrazal's favour? Is that how we will serve Keirine?' Sharma snorted. Having no answer to his dismissive, I moved away to make preparations for the attack.
I ordered our men to move their horses forward to a position just behind the ridge and then I rejoined Sharma. I had only been away for about five minutes but already the scene had changed. The square was moving onto and through the Dornite ranks at the same inexorable pace. First the Dornites made a frontal attack, only to find that they couldn't penetrate the porcupine-like wall. Their leading ranks perished while the press of the men behind added fresh victims to the butchery before their ranks wavered and fell back. A bugle sounded and, right below us, the Dornite cavalry moved around their right flank.
Sharma said triumphantly, 'The last throw of the dice!'
My pulse was racing and my skin felt as if it had been rubbed with raw sandstone. I wasn't even aware that I was beating my fists against the rock in exhilaration. I was about to see something for which I
had waited ever since I was a boy – the rout of a Dornite army. I said, 'We should move now.'
Sharma grunted, 'Not yet. Wait until the square has finished with them.'
Struggling through the mud, the cavalry advanced towards the side of the square. The result was the same as it had been with the chariots: horses were skewered and tumbled to the ground leaving the riders exposed to the points of the lances. The survivors turned and retreated up the lower slope of the hillside towards our position.
I said, 'Now! We have them!'
Sharma shouted, 'Let's go!'
Our men swept over the ridge and took the Dornite cavalry from behind. Attacked from front and rear, hemmed in by the lances and by the hillside, hampered by the soft ground and by their own weight, hardly a cavalryman escaped. As our forces completed the slaughter, I joined Sharma a little higher on the hillside. Sharma grinned at me broadly and shouted, 'We have them!'
I pointed to the Dornite ranks and shouted back, 'We haven't finished them off yet.'
'They won't last long. They can't handle the square.'
We watched as the square moved forward, at the same time opening at the rear to admit the men who had attacked the cavalry. Then the square opened up, forming a long line of advance, three men deep. A bugle sounded and the ranks broke into a quick trot, going as fast they could under the weight of the lances while maintaining unbroken lines. The Dornites fell back in confusion, breaking their line as the men in front tried to escape the approaching lines of lances.
I shouted, 'They're retreating. They'll get away.'
Sharma shouted back, 'Let's get behind them.'
We led our men along the hillside and then wheeled behind the Dornites. We got among the nearest stragglers, those who were retreating in advance of their comrades, cutting some of them down and forcing the rest back into their ranks.
Sharma drew up alongside me and shouted, 'We don't have enough men to do much damage. The best we can do is to try to slow them down.'
That's what we did. We moved up and down behind the Dornites, attacking easy targets. Now that the Dornites had to worry about two fronts at once, their retreat slowed.
The next move came from our own main force when the troops without lances suddenly poured around the sides of the advancing lines, attacking the Dornite flanks. Both sides sensed that this was the crucial phase of the battle. The Dornites held on grimly, like men with their backs to the edge of a cliff, contesting every step that they were pushed backwards. For about ten minutes, the battle swayed as if it was on an evenly balanced scale. Then the lances of the square broke through the Dornite centre and it was all over. From the Dornite ranks there rose a collective roar of anguish as if their intestines were being ripped out of their living bodies. From our soldiers came a shout of triumph and exhalation accompanied by the deep-throated chant of 'Kei-rine! Kei-rine!'
The Dornites wavered, broke, and ran. About half of our army followed them, cutting down the fugitives, stabbing and spearing those who fell in their path. Sharma and I led our men in the chase. The butchery was almost as callous as the killing at Asjolorm except that now the fugitives were soldiers, not civilians.
However, even at this late stage, the pendulum of battle could have swung one more time. A Dornite leader -- probably their supreme commander, judging by his the height of the crest on his helmet -- rallied some of his men on a hillock near the end of the valley. I had to hand it to the commander and his officers. Within minutes, they welded a bunch of terrified fugitives into a fighting force that held the hillock and then advanced down the slope in reasonably good order as our men turned and ran like a rabble. The panic spread across the field and soon the pursuers had turned into fugitives. Fortunately half of our force remained intact, advancing down the valley without their lances at a quick jog.
Sharma and I withdrew our men while our troops, the pursuers turned fugitives, streamed back in retreat. Sharma pointed to the disorderly scene and grunted, 'Thank Zabrazal for Jainar. Without him, we could be lost.'
It was true. Jainar was in control of the half of the army that didn't break ranks and set off in pursuit. We could see him gesticulating to the returning troops, giving directions to the officers, and taking charge of the proceedings. After about ten minutes, the full force had re-assembled. With Jainar in the lead, they set off down the valley at a jog. However, by then the Dornites had begun to climb the eastern heights above the valley. They were safe, out of our reach. Before long, they would be gone.
It was a great victory. More than half of the Dornite army remained on the battlefield, dead or injured, compared with only about two hundred casualties on our side.
As we rode down to join the army, Sharma growled, 'Damnation, we could have destroyed the Dornites completely if our men had kept their heads. As it is --' He shook his head and cursed.
I replied, 'It's a huge victory. Be satisfied with it, man.'
'But it's not what it could have been.'
'Get a sense of perspective, Sharma! This is Keirine's first major victory over the Dornites.'
'Exactly! That's why we should have finished the job properly.'
'Are you never satisfied? We must have destroyed half their army. It'll be a long time before they recover.'
Sharma shook his head and grunted in disappointment. He said morosely, 'We could have had more.'
Our troops greeted us with a cheer as we approached them. Some of our men broke ranks to greet friends and comrades but Sharma shouted at them to get back into line. We dismounted and saluted in front of Jainar who greeted us with a broad smile and fraternal embraces.
As I watched our men dispersing, I drew a deep breath. I felt as if I had climbed a huge step on a long stairway. I had a mental image of myself looking backwards down the stairway and then looking upwards along the climb that still lay before us. An inner voice told me that if I could get up the step that I had just climbed, I could handle the rest as well. I drew another deep breath, put my head back, and closed my eyes. As the excitement ebbed and as my blood cooled, suddenly I felt lonely. I was a successful soldier with my own command, celebrated for my achievements, acknowledged by the king himself. I was standing on the field of Keirine's greatest triumph, in the midst of the wreckage of the Dornite army, surrounded by the chatter and celebrations of soldiers relaxing after their triumph -- but I felt lonelier than I had ever felt before. I felt hollow, empty, and drained.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: GOOD ADVICE
After we disbanded, I rode over to the right flank to find Abozi. To my relief, he was safe and well. Like everyone else, he was flushed with the excitement of the victory. We chatted for a while and agreed to meet later.
While I was riding back to the centre of the valley, I began to feel feverish and dizzy. Suddenly I had a pounding headache and my eyes misted over so that I was viewing the world through an opaque veil. Feeling myself swaying in the saddle, I leaned forward over my horse's neck and allowed him to find his own way back. I must have passed out for a while because the next thing I remember was Sharma's voice, asking me if I was all right. Someone supported me in my saddle and called for assistance. It was probably Sharma but I can't be certain. After that, I can remember nothing.
My fevered delirium lasted for nearly four days. As I found out later, during that time, I was carried back to Koraina in a baggage cart together with a load of wounded soldiers. Along with scores of others, I was put to bed in a hut that served as a temporary hospital.
I have a few dazed memories of the time during which I suffered from the fever. Mostly, I remember images of Dana. I remember having the same dream that I had after the attack on Asjolorm – the dream that just as I was about to possess Dana sweetly and eagerly, I looked down and saw with horror that she was lying under me with her throat cut. I must have had the dream repeatedly because I recollect that at least twice – probably more often, I couldn't tell -- the sound of my own shouts awoke me from my delirium. Sweating, flushed, and bewildered I pushed myse
lf up against the wall behind me and gazed dazedly at the crowded hut. In my half-conscious state, the image of Dana was still with me, more real than my actual surroundings. I gripped the sides of the bed and looked around in confusion, as if I expected to see Dana lying next to me or making her way down the aisle between the rows of beds. Then I dropped back into unconsciousness.
I also remember dreaming of Dana being held by someone. Perhaps it was the Usserdite bandit on the bank of the Great River or perhaps it was a figure that was conjured up by my dark imagination. The details weren't clear – it was just some blurred shape behind Dana, restraining her as she called out and struggled to come to me. In my dream, I called to her, 'You're safe now, Dana, you're safe. Come to me.' Then suddenly she was free and there was no one behind her. She ran towards me, arms outstretched with her garments billowing airily about her as if a wind was blowing up from the ground under her feet. I ran towards her but the more I ran, and the more she ran, the more we remained apart. I called out and reached towards her, and she did the same, but we always remained apart until once again I subsided into the dark void of delirium.
On the fourth day, my fever broke. At about mid-morning, I opened my eyes, lifted my head and looked around, sensing that someone was sitting next to me. I glanced sideways and then closed my eyes as pain pounded through my head. Someone asked half jocularly, 'Had enough sleep, eh?'
With my eyes closed, I muttered, 'My head hurts.'
The voice said, 'At one point, we thought we were going to bury you. Now it looks like you'll live to fight another day.'
Still with my eyes closed, I muttered, 'Is that you, Commander Zaliek?'
'It is.'
I opened my eyes and cautiously squinted towards him. Just as I focused on him, I felt faint. My head dropped back onto the pillow. Zaliek asked gruffly, 'Still not feeling so good, eh?'
After another silence, I managed to mutter, 'How long have I been here?'
'It's four days since the battle. You spent one night in the wagon and three nights in this bed.'
The Blood-stained Belt Page 17