The cavalrymen before him heard the shouting, and they understood the words, but there was little they could do about it. Unless the infantry yielded the road, the cavalrymen were forced to follow one another. The colonel seethed with frustration.
“Halt the column!” he shouted. “Get off the road now!”
The soldiers were confused. They had been ordered not to halt the march unless they were attacked, yet they recognized the colonel’s voice and sought to obey his command. The footmen near the colonel dutifully shuffled into the woods, and those behind them halted the column, but that did not ease the congestion. The soldiers before the colonel had not heard his command and they marched on until he repeated the call to halt. When he eventually reached the next valley, the colonel called for the cavalry to follow him and pressed forward towards the vanguard. The riders within the sound of his voice dutifully obeyed and followed the colonel, while those who had arrived earliest chased after the retreating Sordoans.
Colonel Verle continued to shout at the foot soldiers to get off the road as he led the charge southward, and as he was the lead rider, it eased the flow for those behind him. Feeling good about anticipating the Sordoans’ next move, the premature sound of the fourth horn shot through his body like an arrow. He rose up in his stirrups and gazed along the road. In the distance he could see the Sordoans tearing into the infantry ranks, and he cursed silently. He was too late to head off the attack.
While racing towards the enemy, Colonel Verle saw members of the vanguard cavalry leave General Omirro and rush to block access to the Coastal Highway. He nodded with satisfaction at the efficiency of their maneuvering, but he knew that those one-hundred cavalrymen would not engage the enemy. Their purpose was to deny the enemy access to the road. Only Colonel Verle and the riders behind him could chase the Sordoans away. He shouted a spirited charge and led the cavalry in a charge to repel the enemy.
The colonel was almost at the valley when distant movement caught his attention. He looked beyond the vanguard cavalry and saw four riders squared off. He knew that General Omirro stood in the center of the four riders. That was standard practice whenever the fight was brought to the general, but the movement he detected was not normal. He frowned as he watched two of the riders fall from their horses. His frown gave way to raw rage as he saw a man step out of the forest and swing his staff. The staff tore through horse and rider in a spray of blood, and Colonel Verle shuddered with revulsion.
“They are after the general!” the colonel shouted at the top of his lungs. “Rally to Omirro! Rally to Omirro!”
The fourth rider fell from his horse as a young woman stepped out of the forest. The man with the staff swung again, and Colonel Verle’s teeth bit through his lip as he watched the staff connect with General Omirro’s neck. The general’s head flew through the air and the woman raced after it. The colonel dug his spurs into his horse in an attempt to gain revenge by killing the Sordoan couple, but chaos claimed the battlefield.
The Sordoan horsemen turned on the vanguard cavalry and engaged them, but not fully. It was as if the Sordoans hit them just hard enough to stiffen their resolve and then they turned and fled. At the same time, a fifth horn blared, but it was far in the distance, well past the center of the column. Some of the horsemen that the colonel was leading gave chase to the fleeing Sordoans while others tried to turn around and respond to the new attack. Colonel Verle ignored both and tried to race towards the attack on General Omirro, but the vanguard cavalry had closed ranks to repel the Sordoans, and they refused to yield to him.
“General Omirro has been attacked you fools!” the colonel shouted. “Get out of my way!”
The vanguard cavalry immediately parted, but it was already too late. The colonel ordered men into the forest to search for the assassins, but they were never found. Colonel Verle halted the column and ordered a report of the casualties. When the report arrived, General Barbone arrived with it. The Spinoan general glanced at the headless corpse of General Omirro and shook his head with disgust.
“How did this happen?” he asked.
“Two assassins must have been waiting in the woods,” answered the colonel. “I think the attacks were meant to draw off his protection so that they could strike.”
“The attacks were meant for much more than a mere diversion,” replied General Barbone. “The 10th Corps has suffered severe damage. There were seven attacks in all.”
“I heard the horns,” spat Colonel Verle. “No loss can be measured against the loss of General Omirro.”
“Omirro was just a man,” stated General Barbone, “the same as you and I. I know that you had a close relationship with him, but thousands of your men have died this day. Do not treat their deaths as inconsequential.”
“Thousands?” frowned Colonel Verle. “I only saw hundreds of bodies.”
“There were no horsemen to repel the Sordoans at the last three attacks,” replied General Barbone. “Our famed infantry line of defense is rather ineffective against the Sordoans’ reliance on horse bows. Our losses were great. Where is Omirro’s head?”
“The woman took it,” the colonel replied distractedly.
“Woman?” asked the general.
The colonel frowned and nodded, but he did not answer. The general waited patiently.
“I have seen her before,” the colonel finally said. “Both of them in fact, but I cannot place where it was.”
“We have met few Sordoans on this trip,” stated the general. “Perhaps you saw them last fall when you were here? Maybe you shared a campsite with them?”
The colonel shook his head. “I remember each person we met clearly, and they were not among them.”
“Well, it hardly matters at this stage,” shrugged the general. “We need to get this column reorganized. I will be taking over as the leader of Team Caldar, but I am going to need your help holding the 10th Corps together. Your men are shaken up, Colonel, and you have lost a fair number of officers. I would like your recommendations for promotions to fill the ranks.”
“It was in Aerta!” exclaimed the colonel. “I saw them both in Aerta over a year ago. General Omirro and I shared a meal with them on the shores of the Sea of Tears. That is where I saw them. They said that they were merchants.”
“Over a year ago?” echoed the general. “Are you sure?”
“I am certain,” asserted the colonel. “They claimed to be Tyronians, but how can that be?”
General Barbone stared at the body of General Omirro and sighed with weariness. “Did the man use a staff? And was the woman’s belt holding many knives?”
“You know them?” the colonel asked while nodding.
“They are Knights of Alcea,” answered the general. “You have just verified what they have told me, but you have also told me more than they did. That you saw them in Aerta over a year ago tells me that they have known about this invasion a lot longer than we have known about it. You and I and two-hundred-forty-thousand other Federation soldiers are on a fool’s mission, Colonel. We have been sent to Alcea to die.”
“I do not understand,” frowned the colonel.
“Nor do I completely,” admitted the general, “but we will let the Alceans explain it to us. Put out a flag of truce. We need to talk to Governor Mobami.”
“A truce?” balked the colonel. “For what purpose?”
“To negotiate the terms for our surrender,” answered General Barbone.
“Surrender?” the colonel echoed, his voice rising with incredulity.
“If the terms are favorable,” replied the general. “Team Pontek and Team Gortha no longer exist. I know that General Omirro thought the Sordoans were lying, but they have already proven that to me. The 10th Corps is in tatters, leaving only the 22nd Corps to stand against the enemy. In addition to the horsemen plaguing this column, Trekum is defended by thousands of elves and dwarves. We are incapable of winning, Colonel, but even if there were a chance of success, we have been sent here to die, and I will not sacr
ifice my men for Emperor Jaar or any of the dark masters that he bows to. Enough Ertakan and Spinoan blood has already stained these lands. Put out the flag of truce.”
* * * *
The ten colonels of the 2nd Corps of the Empire of Barouk faced off against the ten colonels of the 24th Corps of Aerta. No one had drawn his sword yet, but the mood in the camp was tense. Behind the two groups of colonels the members of the two armies stood, warily eyeing up each other. At the center of it all, Colonel Hershey stood toe-to-toe with Colonel Tamora.
“You need to get your men under control, Hershey,” scowled the Baroukan colonel. “We are here to fight the Alceans not each other.”
“That might have been true before,” spat the Aertan colonel, “but the death of General Whitman changes everything. We mean to have the assassin hung, and we won’t take no for an answer.”
“Point him out,” challenged Colonel Tamora. “We don’t care much for assassins in the empire. And while you are at it, how about we hang General Fortella’s assassin?”
“What does Fortella’s death have to do with us?” scoffed Colonel Hershey.
“The assassin was seen entering Whitman’s tent,” retorted Colonel Tamora. “Even your own guards admit to that. How is it that he did not kill Whitman? Could it be because he worked for Whitman?”
“That is absurd,” countered Colonel Hershey. “Why would General Whitman want Fortella dead?”
“To seize control of Team Mya,” answered Colonel Tamora. “That is exactly what he did, isn’t it?”
“This is getting us nowhere,” interjected one of the other Baroukan colonels. “We have both had our generals assassinated, and it is ludicrous to think that anyone in this camp had anything to do with either death. Can’t you both see that the enemy is trying to play us one against the other? Instead of marching on Tagaret, we are standing here quarreling while the enemy hurries their defense preparations. Tamora, we need to start marching the 2nd Corps towards Tagaret. Hershey, you should be leading the 24th Corps right behind us, but I won’t assume to tell you what to do.”
“He’s right,” Colonel Tamora said in a conciliatory tone. “Our mission is to capture Tagaret. That is something I think we can both agree on. Whatever ill feelings exist in this camp have to be put aside until we return home. Let Grand General Kyrga investigate things and take the appropriate action. Agreed?”
Colonel Hershey sighed and nodded. “Agreed, but I will lead the 24th Corps as I see fit. I do not acknowledge you as the leader of Team Mya.”
“Fine,” shrugged Colonel Tamora, “but I will be following General Fortella’s attack plan. I will not deviate from that. If the 24th Corps wants a part of this fight, you will have to follow that plan as well.”
Colonel Tamora did not wait for a response. He turned to his fellow colonels and signaled for them to get ready to march. Colonel Hershey sighed nervously and turned to his fellow colonels. They all looked at him questioningly.
“What are we going to do?” one of them asked softly.
“I am not sure why General Whitman chose not to march towards Tagaret,” Colonel Hershey replied, “but I can guess. I think he wanted the other teams to arrive there first. We have already lost a day here so I think we have fulfilled his desires. I think we should follow the 2nd Corps, but at our own pace. Have the men prepare to break camp after the 2nd Corps gets underway.”
Chapter 45
Battle of Duranga
The unicorn glided out of the setting sun and set down on the streets of Duranga, a deserted village on the Coastal Highway between Miram and Tagaret. The commander of the fighting forces of the Castle of Man dismounted, and a Red Sword pointed towards the nearby inn. Lieutenant Montbalm nodded silently and walked towards the inn. He opened the door and stepped into the common room. Standing just inside the door, he paused to let his eyes adjust to the dimly lit room. He smiled as he saw Alexander Tork, and he bowed to the king and queen.
“Welcome,” greeted King Arik. “Have the men of Tor arrived?”
“We are camped one league north of the Federation encampment,” Lieutenant Montbalm replied as he crossed the room and glanced at the map spread out on the table. “I camped to the north so that the Federation didn’t see one-thousand unicorns flying over their camp.”
“A wise precaution,” the king responded with a slight smile, “but I intend for them to see your men. Send your fairy back with instructions for your men to form a column in the air. The column is to circle over the enemy encampment high enough to avoid arrows and then return to their camp. If they can circle more than once to give the appearance of more troops, do so, but do not let the enemy know that we are trying to trick them.”
Lieutenant Montbalm frowned. “You want my men to intentionally alert the enemy to our presence?”
“I do.” The king nodded. “I want them to know that any escape to the north will be met by the men of Tor and their flying unicorns. Send the fairy and then I will explain our plan.”
The lieutenant nodded and stirred Tiny to life. He gave the fairy instructions and sent him on his way before returning his attention to the map.
“Are we to attack then?” he asked.
“Tonight,” replied King Arik. “The men of Tor will be responsible for blocking a northward evacuation. I do not want your men to charge into battle. In fact, I want them to primarily use their bows. Do not engage in close combat because the enemy would easily overrun you. If you have to give ground, do so, but make them pay dearly for each pace they take northward. Instruct the unicorns to maintain distance from the enemy, and they will position as necessary. In addition, Theos will be joining your group.” The king paused to wave the Tyronian mage forward. “If the enemy starts to surge towards you, Theos will make them think twice about their tactics. Work closely with him.”
“Are we not trying to gain their surrender then?” asked the heir from the Castle of Man.
“I truly prefer their surrender,” replied the king, “but we are out of time. Team Mya is marching on Tagaret.”
“The men of Tor will hold the line,” vowed Lieutenant Montbalm. “You can depend on us.”
“I know,” King Arik smiled before turning to Alex. “Alex, you and Jenneva will have the western flank. You will have the Alcean Rangers with you. I will not presume to tell you how to fight, but I do not want the Federation slipping away from us.”
Alex nodded silently, and Jenneva gave her husband a suspicious glance. It was unlike Alex to remain quiet during a strategy briefing, and he had not said a word yet.
“Queen Tanya and I will be driving the main thrust up from the south,” the king continued. “David and the Red Swords will be with us.”
“That leaves the east open,” stated Mitar Vidson.
“It does,” agreed the king, “but there is nothing to the east but the sea.”
“The enemy could turn north or south at the coast,” frowned David Jaynes, “and we have no reserve forces to stop them. Your plan is committing every man to battle.”
“I will stop those who reach the coast from turning north or south,” offered Balamor. “Illusions can be powerful deterrents even at night.”
“Excellent,” replied the king.
“Do you really expect to defeat the enemy with this raid?” asked Theos. “The enemy outnumbers us four-to-one. You cannot expect to defeat them all and leave this place with any of your armies intact. Who will you send against Team Mya?”
“I do not seek to kill twenty-thousand men this night,” answered King Arik, “but I will acknowledge that this battle will be costly for our side as well as theirs. We either defeat Team Miram tonight, or we fall back to Tagaret and face forty-thousand men at our walls.”
“The Alceans who will be fighting tonight,” added Queen Tanya, “are among the finest fighters in the world. They will give a good accounting of themselves.”
“Here here!” exclaimed David Jaynes. “The Zarans will rue the day they stepped through those porta
ls.”
Jenneva glanced at Alex again and wondered why he was not speaking up. She frowned and shook her head before returning her gaze to the king.
“Are we looking for confusion among the enemy?” she asked. “Is that why you are staging this fight at night?”
“Confusion?” echoed the king. “I am looking for total chaos, and I expect my mages to help create it. Before the attack begins, I want you and Tanya to create fear and chaos in the enemy ranks. Once you have sufficiently stirred the hornets’ nest, we will push into the camp from the south.”
“What is your objective?” asked Alex.
“To put the Sword of Heavens to the throat of General Bledsoe and demand his surrender,” King Arik answered without hesitation.
Alex smiled and nodded in appreciation of the plan. “That is a worthy goal. Just make sure that a good deal of Zaran blood has already stained the ground before you get to his tent, otherwise he will not yield.”
The king nodded in understanding and continued the briefing until everyone knew their part in the battle. As the sun began to set over Duranga, the meeting broke up and everyone headed for their groups. As they left the inn, Jenneva pulled Alex aside.
“You were unusually quiet in there today. Is something bothering you?”
“There was no need for me to speak,” Alex replied.
Jenneva chuckled. “That has never stopped you before. Why so quiet?”
Alex sighed and gazed into his wife’s eyes. “You still think of Arik as the boy we found in Largo so many years ago, but that memory no longer reflects who he has become. Arik is one of the finest commanders I have ever known, and it does no one any good for me to constantly infringe on his rightful place. His plan is sound and is much like what I would have planned had it been up to me. Give him space to become who he will become, Jenneva. He is the Warrior King.”
Jenneva’s brow creased sharply. “I agree with your words, husband, but I suspect there is something deeper bothering you. Have you had any dreams lately? Have you seen your own death this night?”
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