by Nelson, J P
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Eppard split the unit he brought in half, me headed one way and Deak the other. Dudley had come and he and Merle’s platoon were with me. I also had Kisparti, Puffer, Vensi and Patriohr. We rode fast for around two hours until we found a large area where the enemy would have most likely camped … if … they had come this way.
Now that we were here, Kisparti recognized the site. He had been part of a big buffalo hunt in this valley and he said there wasn’t a level spot close by that might hold a large party, let alone an army, other than a small valley he knew in the other direction. We studied our site a few moments, and then Dudley said, “Wolf, I think they’re humping each other in the other direction.” Then he looked at me with a wry face, “or elsin’ we couldn’t help hearing them grunt and groan.”
Shaking my head, “Let’s get, gentlemen, or else we’re going to be left out.”
Dud looked at me in horror, “We gonna get left out of the humpin’?”
“Shael’s, Dudley!”
Turning our mounts, we rode the ridges in an attempt to get where our force was likely headed. We were sky-lining, and it was dangerous, but I was trusting to my senses to let me know before running into anything malignant. I was focusing hard all around and even down into the ground. It wouldn’t do to run into anything that could come up from below.
The sky was overcast for a storm and it was so dark you almost couldn’t see … you, I mean, not me. If it gives off any kind of heat, I can see it. So with Kisparti beside me, I rode in the lead. I could feel it, them, way before we got there, hundreds of men fighting to the death. We topped a ridge and saw it below us. The attack had gone off like paint strokes on an easel.
When the tally was done it turned out to be four hundred and sixteen men camped out down there; men who were riding with the intent of killing, raping and plundering Kiubejhan and anything in their way. The watchmen were not true military grade and were easily taken out. Then the XL’s mowed down a significant number, and before they could get organized they were hit again.
The cavalry ran through the camp, then the footmen came in as a second wave firing their LCB’s and then letting loose with their heavy weapons. The sky cracked with lightning as it began to drizzle. From where we were coming onto the scene, I could see a scattered group trying to slip through the end of their vale, and I stretched our unit, sixty-two men strong, out in a c-shaped line just high enough up to make for an easy scoop up. We waited for the last moment to fire, and then we rode them hard and back into the vale as a heavy downpour began.
It was all over before morning’s first light. Of the whole battle, we had fifty-three men wounded, no fatalities, and had fourteen prisoners. No one had to tell us how fortunate we were all the way around, but this engagement was an example of textbook strategy and tactical precision.
We were able to make use of their shelters, and they had camped for rain. The torrent continued, but Eppard didn’t want to linger for a multitude of reasons. As soon as it was light, we collected their pack animals, all of their supplies and the choicest of their weapons, and made quick time to the other vale where we made bivouac.
There had been clansmen in the fight, but by comparing gear and weapons, it became clear there were other groups involved as well. A large percentage of our opponents had bolas, blowguns, and some rather nicely made spears.
Deak and a few others determined these were of the Coumunti peoples, a fierce tribal group who often battled the Banupodai. How they could have gotten here was anyone’s guess. But it was orchestrated with specific intent, there was no accident in their being here. The prisoners were a mixture of warrior origins, and Eppard kept them under heavy guard until the camp was established, and then two nights later the questioning began.
The Associated Kingdoms Code of Combatual Conduct forbade direct torture to prisoners. There were several kingdoms and city-states who were part of that faction, but it hadn’t made its way down here. Lieutenant Commander Eppard had been chosen for his level headedness and leadership skill. He was also a straight up warrior with a deadly purpose who took his job seriously. These people were a threat to his way of life, what he believed in, and he had seen his men die at the hands of these people’s allies.
Once you take up a vocation in combat, you must understand there could be downsides. These men had reached a serious downside. Eppard himself conducted the interrogation, and his face never once broke past his cool and collected poise. I was there through it all and never once did his body heat go up beyond that of mild exertion. He had them all lined up on the backside of a ridge, and then tied them securely in a circle. I won’t go into extreme details, but it was an education.
At the first he asked some simple questions, to which he got no answers. So he poured lantern oil on the man, and as the man laughed and hurled insults, Eppard tossed a torch on him, as simple as that. There was no berating, no beatings. He, well, use your imagination. We all watched for about an hour until he stopped screaming.
Casually, Eppard walked over to the next, then without asking any questions used a smith’s hammer to break bones, one by one. That one took an hour as well. Then he had a third man pulled to the middle, stretched out, and he used a tourniquet on one joint at a time. On this one he used a saw. Okay, I won’t go any further, but you get the point. And he didn’t just go down the line either. He walked up to each, and with a smile he said hello. He spoke in a monologue about poetry he had read, paintings he had seen, and how he would make sure each of these men would die at night, without their weapons, and would not be buried with any honor.
Two of them kept staring at me, though, and I didn’t know why. But just before the sun started to go up, Eppard had each one who was left dragged off to where they couldn’t see or hear each other. They stayed that way all day until the next night came. When they were placed in their circle again, one of them started crying. We had us a talker. Before it was over, we had four talkers, on the basis that they would be killed in daylight and buried with weapons. Eppard honored their wishes, even though they wouldn’t have known otherwise. I never knew if he believed in that or not.
Boiling it all down, it was worse than imagined. Xiahstoi was said to have finally appeared and was making his home in the Great Pyramid. A Witch King, claiming to be the consort of Meidra herself, was now here and promising the goddess was on her way back. The clansmen had been promised full revenge on Chitivias … if … they worked with the union of Xiahstoi and the Witch King. Four lieutenants had been identified as working in concert with the Witch King; High Chief Threstor of the southwestern clansmen, an elf named Phostein, the Chief of Cognobins whose name was Hnugh, and surprise-surprise, Aldivert. Aldivert had been anointed by the Witch King himself to become the king of Keoghnariu.
Threstor was even now supposed to be gathering every one capable of handling arms to march up the western ridgeline to take the well forted Brosman Iron Mines. His conquest of the place would prove his loyalty, and the Witch King wanted control of that new steel. He would be joined by a cognobin force by an old outpost ruin a few days march away.
Aldivert had taken his loyalists and was forming a plan to capture the city. He had sent for and assembled three bands of Coumunti, this force had been sent toward the jungle line to merge with yet another force of cognobins. These were supposedly coming from one of the pyramids in the jungle. None of the prisoners knew exactly when this meeting would take place, but they had been looking for it at any time.
No one knew what the elf was about, only that he had at least five or six more, and they were capable of using magic as well as possessed of exceptional fighting skills.
One of the prisoners had seen the Witch King, the description perfectly fit Soyvette. So who, then, was Xiahstoi? Hoscoe stood behind his belief this couldn’t be the historical figure. His palace of skulls was in the eastern mountains, and nothing going on was reminiscent of his portfolio. Xiahstoi was egocentric and loved to be seen, h
e didn’t hide from view.
After much discussion it was decided to wait right here for the cogs. It wasn’t the best place to defend, but the hope was to allow them entry, attempt to bottle neck them, and hail them with bolts before charging them. Eppard was counting on their sense of superiority to not be as cautious as they may, and in all of their assaults they had performed without any real discipline. Of course, there was the elf. What if Phostein was along? He may have been the one in charge at the farm keep.
Our one hope was that they would come in expecting to meet comrades, and that they would come in the direction we wanted. Deak learned the smoke signal they were supposed to keep putting up as a direction guide. Our troops were positioned to make maximum use of all our firepower, and the cavalry positioned far out of eyesight for anyone entering the vale. I assigned Kisparti to any elf he might see, and take his time to seek one out. Dudley and a couple of his men were going to do the same thing.
Izner was with me, holding low to the ground, when we saw them coming. I let out my breath. There were at least two hundred of them. The thought crossed my mind, ‘They must not be too happy, marching all of that distance on hands.’ I remembered they had hands where feet usually went, sort of like an ape. It was why we figured they could climb so well and fast. Suddenly I had an idea, and then I saw the elves, three of them.
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Our camp was intentionally unorganized, and we used the enemy’s supplies and methods of cooking. Fires were blazing and meat cooking, hopefully to entice hungry cognobins. We were hoping they didn’t prefer raw meat and wanted them lured in as far as possible before we sprung our trap. The vale was all of perhaps eighty-five acres, or so, and we placed the camp far enough in, so all of the enemy would hopefully be past the point we wanted to bottle cap from potential escape.
Sure enough, cogs smelled the food and started going for it, only a couple looking around. But the elves; one was carefully looking the place over and calling out names. Another started going from tent to tent, while the third focused his sight on the surrounding ridges. It was he who started to open his mouth when a Resounder caught him mid chest and knocked him backward and into the ground. The elf among the tents suddenly went up on his toes with two bolts, each from a different angle, then he took a Resounder bolt that knocked him off of his feet backward. From the olive color of their skin I could tell at least they weren’t Drow.
The third elf hit the ground with a roll and came up with a green glow around him. A bolt hit him and ricocheted off as he threw a small sphere of light into the bush. The sphere split off into three different spheres which grew to the size of a pigskin ball, hit targets, and exploded taking some of our boys with it.
My idea, I had to try my plan. I told myself, ‘Focus, Wolf …’ the rain of bolts was horrendous, and I jumped out in the back of the mass, hoping my idea would work. I knelt down and put my hands into the ground, and ducked my head. I reached for the power … and felt it calling up to me like a song. Pushing into So’Yeth, I remembered what it was like as a child to cut myself on a blade of grass. ‘Razors,’ I thought, and imagined the grasses all around becoming like small, slicing *Grass Blades* against and under the walking hands of the cogs.
And it worked! I pushed harder, and tried to make the effect expand, but then a burst of energy hit me, hard, as I was knocked thirty feet into the back of a prancing cog. I felt as if my chest had been crushed and couldn’t breathe. The elf was running my way. *Self Heal*, I felt the bones pop back into place, and the burns reduced to first degree. He had drawn a sword and was amazingly evading the Grass Blades. He had some good skill, but I was better. Our fight would be exciting to see as we danced around the combat ground, fighting now all about us.
My skill was superior, and he knew it, but I couldn’t hurt him. Every time I landed a blow I would see a shower of green sparks. Magic, how do you beat magic? A javelin from a falling cog landed to my side. Sitting into a backward roll, I grabbed the weapon and switched tactics. Sheathing my sword and planting the javelin point into the ground at his feet, I vaulted over him as he ducked and rolled in confusion. My javelin head broke in the ground and elf-boy paused and grinned. I grinned back and reached down again, extending the power into the staff, I formed a *Thorn Blade* and the stick now began to hum in my hands.
His face took a look of surprise, and respect. We closed again, and this time I batted his sword to the side and smashed him in the knee with a loud popping sound. Whirling the staff, I hit him solid in the torso with the butt end, sending him twenty feet through the air. As he hurtled against a cog, I spun the spear behind my back to change position while doing an aerial barrel roll to increase momentum. As he struck against the cog, I landed on one foot and felt what seemed to be lightning reach from So’Yeth, through my body, into my hand and into my spear as I threw it. The elf saw it as it was coming and he suddenly disappeared in a puff of green and purple smoke. The cog, however, blew up as the spear ran him through.
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The battle was a clear victory, and it proved once and for all the win at Wolf-Nobin Hill was no fluke. We also learned some weakness of our enemy. Their feet had a soft under-sole. Also, they could sprint, but were shy on endurance running. Some had broken through and were trying to return to the jungle, several miles away. But our cavalry ran them down and finished them off. We killed two hundred and forty-three cognobins, but we lost some good men. Seventy-six; way too many for our purpose, and we had no means of gathering reinforcements.
We had a new problem, though, one which was inevitably going to happen. The elf escaped, and with that, the enemy would now know we were here and what we could do. And they now knew there was an elf who also had some power. Okay, I’m only half-elf, but they weren’t going to know that.
Did I say one new problem? We had several, but one was the fact that Eppard was now torn in his duty. We were to hunt and find the cognobin source and neutralize it. But we also knew a force was going to head for Brosman, and Aldivert was most assuredly planning an assault against the king. We were in no way close enough to get to Kiubejhan ahead of Aldivert, who even now may be there. Also, Eppard knew Lahrcus was to go to Brosman and oversee the making of new weapons with the Brosman Steel.
If a force was on its way, and included cognobins, he needed to know.
Eppard knew of the old routes through the Jungle of Kalki-Shurma, which was the one west of us now. It was where most of the pyramids could be found. It was the home of the Tiskites, huge constrictor snakes, mosquitoes the size of your hand, and the lost gold mines of Ziet’Jiao were supposed to be located there. If a team mounted on the fastest horses were to quick-time it across, Brosman was about on the same parallel as we were now, if only slightly further south.
Again, if, if Threstor were still getting his forces ready … Eppard thought it was worth sending a detachment with a warning. If Lahrcus wasn’t there, someone would ride the standard route fast to the north in hopes of meeting him. Eppard was at a loss as what to do about the city. He didn’t think Aldivert could take Kiubejhan by force without these troops. The city and defenses were too well planned.
We buried our dead and tended the wounded. Over the soldier’s graves I played a medley of their favorite songs, in particular what I would now call Chimothy’s Song. His bolt had been one of those that killed the elves, and he had been one of those taken by the spheres of exploding magic. Chimothy was indirectly responsible for a cascade of doors being opened up for me. Since that night at the pub we had played often together, even singing as a duet at Baldwin’s. War claimed no favorites, and if I hadn’t been quick to think, I would be beside him right now.
The trail Eppard was thinking of was some distance further south, and we would need to get closer to the jungle to shorten the warning detachment’s riding time. We were headed south, anyway. We left the next morning, but as we did I felt those eyes upon me again. I thought of that elf, and exactly where did h
e go?
Chapter 47
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IF WE WERE on alert before, we were on double alert now. Twice, I had watched someone vanish right in front of me. How did they do that? I was intrigued. After the battle, I had scouted the area where elf-boy and I fought. There were no traces of either of us fighting, but there were plenty of his tracks up to the point the fight began. Interesting. But there was something else, I thought I could *Detect* where he had started using his power. It was almost like a strong perfume that lingers in the air after the wearer has left the room; and his lingered from where he engaged it, all the way to where he disappeared. The last point was where it lingered strongest, like a signature, maybe, or a residue of some kind. I was guessing again.
As we rode, Deak talked with me a bit, “It don’t look like we’re goin’ to make it to my homelands.”
“Why?” I asked, “Are you giving up already?”
He smirked, “Not as long as I can pull a trigger. But look-it, they’re all comin’ up to us.” Deak seemed real disappointed, “I was shinin’ on to takin’ you up to Sky Rock. There’s stuff up there you’d love to see, especially you askin’ about history all the time.”
“Have you ever heard of something called Cherron’s Road?”
“You mean Cherron’s Pass? Yup, heard of it, an I’ve seen it. There’s a painting of it up in those caves, too. Only the painting shows some kind of writin’, like, across the top. But the arches themselves don’t have it.”
I just looked at him, and then asked, “Could you show me when we make camp?”
“Shore ‘nuff. I practiced those letters all of the time for years. Wouldn’t never forget ‘em.”
“Were you a clansmen at one time?”
He grinned a little, “I was a chief once, my boy.”
I just smiled, well now …