The campsite returned to normal as groups separated to eat or plan for the battle. HawkShadow brought a large helping of venison and handed it to Ukaro. The Chula shaman smiled and nodded.
“You mentioned some kind of action this evening,” Ukaro said between bites. “What size force are you opposing?”
“There is a group of a thousand Imperial Guards that have been making their way slowly into the Sakova,” answered HawkShadow. “SkyDancer, Goral, and I have been doing our best to keep them on edge and slow them down. They are pretty nervous now. I want one more chance to frazzle them before the attack tomorrow. A few of us will sneak into their camp tonight. We will hack off the hair from as many as we dare. That is all we plan to do.”
“Interesting,” mused Ukaro. “I take it that the loss of their hair is significant?”
“It is,” nodded HawkShadow. “It serves two purposes. First it lets the soldiers know that they could have been killed just as easily. Second, it troubles those who still have their hair to see a great number of their brethren without their tails. We have been doing this for some time with this group. The plan for tomorrow is to attack them. If we do it correctly, the majority of them will run screaming.”
“Clever,” responded Ukaro, “but why not just annihilate the thousand intruders?”
“There is another group coming after them,” frowned HawkShadow. “That second group numbers ten thousand. We cannot possibly hope to scare that many men. What we can hope to do is frighten the second group by letting them hear the stories of the first group. I think that will be more effective than annihilating the thousand men.”
“I suspect that you are correct,” nodded Ukaro. “Your group is far too small to oppose ten thousand men. I wonder if even just a thousand is a stretch for this small group. You will be outnumbered ten to one.”
“If the Omungans were not already frightened,” frowned HawkShadow, “your analysis would be valid. We will win the day tomorrow. Of that I have no doubt. What bothers me is the cost to our people. One cannot expect to go against such odds and escape unscathed. Some fine Sakovans will not survive tomorrow’s battle.”
“Such is the way of war,” shrugged Ukaro. “I suspect that the Sakovans, like the Chula, have been losing warriors steadily over the years. Each loss is a disaster, yet each warrior freely gives his life for the benefit of the others. Do not lessen their gift with too much sorrow. Be glad that your people love you enough to make the ultimate sacrifice.”
“I think the Chula and the Sakovans have much in common,” replied HawkShadow. “I have heard your words before, but they came from the mouth of a Sakovan.”
“Then you have had wise counsel,” smiled the Chula shaman. “Why are the Omungans afraid to come here? Surely, it is more than just your cutting of their hair?”
“It is,” nodded HawkShadow. “For many years we have sent people into the Omungan cities to spread tales about the dangerous Sakova. The tales speak of strange and mysterious creatures that abide in the Sakova. They speak of innumerable ways to die. Basically, we have painted a picture so bleak that Omungans have come to dread the Sakova. Even these soldiers would not dare to come here except for the specific orders that they cannot disobey.”
“You must tell me as many of these tales as you can,” urged Ukaro. “I am sure that they will point to a way that I can help.”
* * *
Ukaro woke early and sat watching the Sakovans rise and prepare for a day of battle. SkyDancer noticed the Chula shaman and brought him a cup of coffee.
“Thank you,” Ukaro smiled, his nose crinkling and his long whiskers dancing lightly in the soft morning breeze. “You Sakovans are indeed a kindred folk to the Chula. I almost feel at home here in the Sakova watching the camp come alive.”
“It is a shame that our people became so isolated,” remarked SkyDancer as she sat down next to Ukaro. “I suspect that we could have learned much from each other over the years.”
“We will not be isolated much longer,” replied Ukaro. “The long awaited day of Kaltara is soon upon us.” Ukaro’s eyes roved over the campsite and returned to gaze upon SkyDancer. “I do not see HawkShadow this morning,” he continued. “Do you know how his foray into the enemy campsite went last night?”
“I am letting him sleep in,” smiled SkyDancer. “We had a hard night of it.”
“You were with the group last night?” asked the Chula shaman.
“It was just HawkShadow and myself,” nodded SkyDancer. “The Omungans were more nervous than we thought. Half of the camp was awake last night. We only managed to get six tails.”
“Six tails with half the camp awake is quite a testament to your skill,” congratulated Ukaro. “What is the plan for today?”
“We pretty much know the path that the Omungans will take,” answered SkyDancer. “We will have several Sakovans show themselves at times throughout the day. The intent is to make them more nervous. Sometime after high sun the Omungans will enter a narrow defile. That is where we will attack them. It is hoped that we will only have to kill a small percentage of them before they are routed.”
“So you expect their nervousness to cause enough havoc that the Omungans will flee in the face of danger?” asked Ukaro.
“Precisely,” nodded SkyDancer. “At least that is HawkShadow’s plan.”
“It is a sound one,” commented Ukaro. “Why the showing of Sakovans during the day? Would it not be better to eliminate a few Omungans before the defile instead of just scaring them?”
“That is an option,” answered a groggy HawkShadow as he appeared from behind a giant fargi tree. “I am loath to break the Omungans stride towards the defile, though. If we can safely eliminate a few stragglers before the defile, we will do so.”
“Who are these Sakovans that will show themselves?” asked the Chula shaman. “Why will that rile the Omungans?”
“Some Sakovans are stark enough figures that they can reinforce the tales told over the years,” smiled HawkShadow. “You met Goral yesterday. Imagine him astride a choka. That sight is sure to unnerve the Omungans. In fact, we have used that tactic before and it worked quite well.”
“I can picture that image,” chuckled Ukaro. “It would be enough to catch the attention of even the Chula. I would like to offer my services if I may.”
HawkShadow stared at the Chula shaman for a moment. His appraising gaze ended with the corners of his mouth turning upward in a grin.
“Astride your tiger?” he asked.
“Of course,” grinned Ukaro. “From the tales you told me last night, that vision would fit well into what the Omungans hope not to see.”
“You are correct,” nodded HawkShadow, “but I fear for your safety. Your tiger might sprint well, but the Omungans may decide to give chase.”
“You underestimate me,” Ukaro said as his split lips parted widely in a grin. “I am quite capable of defending myself. Plus, if they do give chase, it will provide the perfect opportunity to eliminate a few of them.”
“You will have to get close enough to them to let them see your facial features,” warned HawkShadow. “Anything less would not arouse them.”
“Agreed,” Ukaro nodded vigorously. “I know that you are treating me as a special emissary and are afraid to risk my death, but I assure you that I will be alright. I already informed Lyra that I planned to take an active role during my stay in the Sakova. In fact, she has agreed to let me lead a group of mages towards Tanzaba.”
“Tanzaba?” questioned HawkShadow. “Why would we need mages down there?”
“It is the closest that the Sakova comes to the road to Alamar,” explained Ukaro. “We are to halt any movements of siege engines heading towards Alamar. I will be leaving for there right after today’s battle. The other mages are already on their way.”
“Very well then,” grinned HawkShadow. “We will accept your aid. I will arrange for a raiding party to be prepared for the Omungans that chase you. That will certainly add to their nervo
usness when they reach the defile.”
“I would also like to play a part at the defile,” pushed Ukaro. “I have a thought about how to initiate the attack. It will add maximum discomfort before the arrows start flying.”
* * *
The Omungans rode four abreast as their long column snaked through the ancient fargi forest. The troops were obviously nervous, their heads swiveling in all directions as they rode. When Goral appeared on a rise to the column’s right, the Omungans shouted loudly and pointed. Goral wore a bright red robe and held a massive maul in one fist. He sat erect on his warbird and glared at the Omungans. The Omungan column faltered and horses bumped into one another. Several Omungans left the column and started heading towards Goral, but shouted orders brought them back into line. After a few minutes, Goral disappeared over the rise. The Omungan officers shouted orders to get the column back into position.
Less than an hour later, Ukaro appeared astride his tiger. He positioned himself on a promontory that overlooked the trail. He was much closer than Goral had been, but the location had been chosen wisely. Ukaro would have a straight run into the forest while the Omungans would have to climb the grade on either side of the promontory.
The first few soldiers did not notice the Chula shaman, and Ukaro instructed his tiger to roar. The front of the column immediately halted as the soldiers stared up at the tiger and its rider. Excited shouts rippled through the Omungan ranks as the following riders started to bunch up. Several Omungans unstrapped their bows and frantically nocked arrows. Ukaro grinned broadly showing his teeth as he glared at the invaders.
“We have been patient with you,” Ukaro shouted. “We will be patient no longer. Leave the Sakova now or die.”
A hail of arrows sailed toward the Chula shaman even as the rear of the column continued to advance. Ukaro sat passively as the arrows soared towards him. Several Omungans started shouting victoriously just before the arrows abruptly changed course. Ukaro shook his head in an obvious display of pity.
“You have been warned,” shouted Ukaro. “Prepare to die.”
More arrows flew at the Chula shaman, but Ukaro merely patted his tiger. The new arrows also abruptly changed course as the tiger turned and walked slowly away. As Ukaro disappeared from the promontory, a group of Omungans shouted and gave chase. They ignored the shouted orders from their officers as they raced up the slope next to the promontory. They crested the rise and charged through the fargi trees searching for the tiger and its rider.
The riders broke formation and rode over a wide span as they searched the forest. Suddenly, screams ripped through the woods as a hail of arrows flew into the Omungans. The screams halted suddenly and silence reclaimed the ancient forest. SkyDancer rode across the line of dead Omungans shouting as she chased the frightened horses back towards the rise.
The halted Omungan column heard the short screams. Just a few moments later, the unburdened horses began appearing. Havoc rippled through the column, and the officers had to shout threats to keep the soldiers in formation. Finally, the column continued its trek deeper into the Sakova.
The column rode uneasily through the fargi forest. Many a soldier kept his bow strung and an arrow nocked as he looked nervously from side to side. Eventually the officers called a halt for the midday meal. The news of the tiger incident spread to the soldiers who had not been close enough to witness it. While the uninformed soldiers openly scoffed at the tale of a cat-man riding a tiger that was impervious to arrows, it was all too obvious that they believed their fellow soldiers.
The officers who overheard the spreading of tales reacted with threats of punishment, and the midday break was shortened. The column was reformed and the Omungans rode unwittingly towards the defile.
The officers grew concerned as the sides of the canyon continued to narrow. Their eyes constantly rose to check the rims above them, but they continued forward. A clatter rose from the Omungan soldiers, and one of the officers left the column to see what was causing the break in silence. As he rode against the flow of the column, the officer scowled at the troops who were speaking. He saw one of the men point to something at the side of the trail. He rode towards it and stopped when he recognized the cut tail of hair. He contemplated picking up the severed tail, but he was concerned that it might be poisoned. He wheeled his horse around and headed for the vanguard.
As the officer rode towards the front of the column, his eyes were no longer glued to the rim above him. He scanned the ground of the canyon and saw one severed tail after another. Well over a hundred of his men had had their tails cut during their foray into the Sakova, and the officer began to subconsciously count the tails as he passed them. When he reached the vanguard, the officer rode alongside the leader of the soldiers. He pointed out the next tail of hair as they passed it. The chatter from the rear of the column grew louder, and the leader gritted his teeth. His eyes bounced from the rim above his head to the trail of tails lining the canyon floor. A sudden chill ran up his spine.
Suddenly, a large cloud of smoke rose above the center of the defile before the column of Omungans. The leader called for a halt, and the column began to bunch up as the other riders were paying more attention to the tails lining the canyon than the riders before them. The officers in the column rode forward to find out why the leader had called a halt.
The strange white cloud flattened vertically, and the face of the tiger-man appeared in the center of it. The image was much larger than life, and many Omungan soldiers gasped as the cat-like eyes peered down at them. While everyone was staring at the strange image, the cat-like man spoke. His voice echoed through the entire canyon.
“You do not understand the power of the Sakova,” the cat-like man said loudly. “You have been warned. Now you shall die.”
Suddenly, a bright light appeared in the canyon before the Omungans. The soldiers stared in awe as the light sped towards them. They watched in frozen fascination as the ball of light flattened into a horizontal disk. Their eyes opened wide in fear as the flat disk spread and blades of pure light appeared spinning around the large disk.
The screams of the group of officers were short as the blades of light sliced through their bodies. Blood flowed over the backs of the horses as the dismembered bodies of the officers fell to the ground. Still the Omungan column remained frozen in disbelief.
With shouted war cries, the Sakovans charged into the canyon from the far end. The cloud dissipated, and the Omungans stared as they saw the enemy charging. HawkShadow, Ukaro, Goral, and StormSong led the charge. The Omungans suddenly realized that the battle had begun. Many of the Omungans chose to turn and retreat, but a few opted to attack. The rims of the canyon filled with Sakovan archers, and arrows flew into the Omungan column.
Amidst the hail of arrows, the Sakovan riders tore into the vanguard of the Omungan column. HawkShadow and StormSong slashed left and right as they surged into the Omungans. Goral swung his massive maul, instantly crushing whatever it touched, while Ukaro issued a stream of fireballs. The Omungans who had decided to attack had a sudden change of heart. They wheeled their horses and sped after the other retreating soldiers.
The Sakovans gave chase, but they kept their chokas slowed down to match the speed of the Omungan horses. The idea was to keep the Omungans running rather than engage them. Other Sakovans showed themselves along the path of retreat. They did not join the battle, but rather guided the retreating Omungans by appearing on small rises on each side of the path HawkShadow had chosen. The chase lasted until nightfall when HawkShadow called a halt to the pursuit. The Sakovans gathered and rallied around HawkShadow.
“That went rather well,” smiled StormSong. “Do you think they will stop for the night?”
“Not a chance,” grinned HawkShadow. “They will ride until they meet the larger army sometime tomorrow. I will send some riders out to shadow them. Any stragglers will be killed, but the rest will be allowed to flee.”
“Now we must prepare for the larger army,” inte
rjected SkyDancer. “They will not be so easily routed.”
“One group at a time,” sighed HawkShadow. “We will need some new tricks for the next group.”
Ukaro joined the group, and HawkShadow grinned broadly at him.
“Must you go to Tanzaba?” asked HawkShadow. “I enjoy having you around. You are the perfect picture of what we have tried to portray in the tales spread to the Omungans.”
“I enjoyed being with you Sakovans as well,” Ukaro grinned back. “We work well together. I feel like a Chula Sakovan. It is as if I belong here.”
“We do indeed,” agreed the Sakovan assassin.
“I must do as I promised the Star of Sakova,” the Chula shaman continued, “but I have time to teach some of your mages how to cast the light disk. I think you would use it wisely.”
Chapter 22
Visit to Gatong
The four elves huddled in the small cave near the mine where Eltor was rescued. MistyTrail cast another healing spell on Caldal, and he opened his eyes and stared into MistyTrail’s face.
“Who are you?” Caldal asked with apprehension.
Eltor slid swiftly across the floor of the tiny cave until he was at Caldal’s side.
“She is a friend,” smiled Eltor as he reached out and grasped Caldal’s hand. “Her name is MistyTrail. We were afraid that you would not recover.”
“I have no right to recover,” groaned Caldal as he struggled to sit up. “How did you get me out of the Chamber of Horrors?”
“I assume that is what you call the place where you were held captive?” interjected Mistake as she moved closer to the wounded elf. “I am Mistake. The three of us snuck into the temple and rescued you.”
“I must be still dreaming,” Caldal said as he closed his eyes and reopened them. “Nobody returns from the Chamber of Horrors.”
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