Army of the Dead (56 page)

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Authors: Richard S. Tuttle

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Young Adult

BOOK: Army of the Dead
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“What is it, Luggar?” asked the premer.

“It is an attack,” reported the general. “I just sent a man to investigate. It appears to be an attack from all sides. I was going to check myself, but I thought it wiser to awaken you.”

The premer nodded and belted on his sword. He strode out of the tent, and the general followed. They stood silently outside the tent listening to the sounds.

“Archers,” commented Cardijja. “Did you say the attack was from all quarters?”

“It is,” nodded the general.

“Issue orders to pull the troops inward,” commanded the premer. “We may be surrounded, but it does not sound as if the enemy is charging. Create a tight circle, Luggar. I want shields on the outside and archers on the inside.”

General Luggar ran off to deliver the premer’s orders. Moments later a soldier ran towards the tent and halted in front of the premer. He was clearly out of breath, and Cardijja waited patiently for the message.

“General Luggar sent me out to discover the nature of the attack,” reported the soldier. “We are under attack by archers.”

“I gathered as much,” nodded Cardijja. “Are there any horsemen about?”

“No horses that anyone can see,” the soldier shook his head. “Some of the men swear that they saw elves, but that can’t be, can it?”

Premer Cardijja subconsciously bit his lip as he pondered the question. There should be no elves in Fakara, at least according to the spies, but those same spies had missed other important things, like giant spiders and small humans with blowpipes. He had been informed of the fall of the Island of Darkness to the elves, so he was certain that they had joined up with the enemy, but what would they be doing in this particular forest? Suddenly the answer dawned to the premer.

“It is elves attacking,” shouted General Luggar as he raced towards the tent. “What in the blazes are the elves doing here?”

“Killing us,” Cardijja said calmly. “The attack will not last long, but the elves will be back later.”

“Explain yourself,” frowned the general as he waved the soldier away.

“They mean to keep us from sleeping,” explained the premer. “That is what the enemy always intended to do. Make us weary with exhaustion, and pick us off in small slivers until we are all dead. What a deviously brilliant plan. It doesn’t matter how large an army we have. They will continue to harass us until we are all dead. The horsemen sleep while the spiders attack. When they wake up they attack us on the plains, then they sleep and the elves fire arrows into our camp all night. No doubt the horsemen will be back tomorrow.”

“We cannot allow that,” scowled the general. “We must counterattack.”

“Counterattack?” echoed the premer. “And how do you suggest we do that? Have you ever tried finding elves in the forest? Why do you think the kruls were created? I will tell you. It was not just for their strength that the mages developed them. They also have a keen sense of smell, particularly suited to hunting runaway elves. When the alarms go off on the Island of Darkness, what are the rules?”

“The army seals the city, and the kruls are sent out to hunt the escapees,” the general nodded in defeat.

“Precisely,” replied the premer. “Oh, some soldiers will be sent out on patrols as well, but they are mostly to herd the elves to where the kruls can find them.”

“So what do we do?” asked the general as the sounds of battle diminished. “We cannot just stay here and be targets for the elves.”

“No, we can’t,” agreed the premer, “but I am at a loss as to what we should do. We could organize patrols and send them out to hunt the elves, but I doubt that they will return to camp. I wonder how many elves we are facing?”

“There is no way to know,” shrugged the general as he followed the premer into the tent. “Do you want me to go out and ask them?” he added sarcastically.

“Wouldn’t it be nice if they would answer?” replied the premer as he grabbed a torch and placed it into a holder near the table.

Cardijja stared at the map in silence for some time. General Luggar fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable with the silence.

“The question, Luggar,” the premer finally said, “is how did the elves get here? If they were here when we marched by this forest on the way to the jungle, why didn’t they attack then? And why didn’t our men find them when they hunted the deer?”

“They must not have been here then,” shrugged Luggar.

“Then where were they hiding?” asked Cardijja. “Certainly not in the jungle. They would have attacked us there as well. They didn’t come from the east across the plains. We would have seen them.”

“So they came from the west,” shrugged the general. “What difference does it make? The important thing is that they have us surrounded. It doesn’t matter a bit how they got here.”

“That is where you are wrong, Luggar,” smiled the premer. “How they got here matters a great deal. I will tell you why in a moment. What I need to understand is if they have been around since Bakhai arrived in our camp. The elf that was trying to kill him was the first hint of elves in this land. Now you have always been suspicious of Bakhai, so you are the perfect person to ask this of. Were the elves around our camp when Bakhai came to us?”

General Luggar had never trusted the Fakaran youngster, but he knew that Cardijja had a soft spot in his heart for the lad. He remembered that patrols had been sent out in search of the elf, and those patrols turned up nothing.

“I don’t think so,” answered the general. “Bakhai is clearly not an elf, and I think he was truly afraid of the elf that chased him, but I still do not trust him. Why are you asking?”

“Because I suspect that the elves might have been responsible for the insects that attacked us in our sleep,” explained Cardijja.

“Elven magic?” questioned the general. “Why would they do such a thing? Why not attack us as they are doing tonight?”

“Because our troops were fresh at the time,” reasoned the premer. “I suspect that the total number of elves attacking us is rather small. Any real attack on us would be a deadly defeat for them, so they aim to deprive us of sleep. They make us afraid and weaker through exhaustion.”

“Your theory makes sense,” nodded the general, “but what does that have to do with Bakhai?”

“It is almost as if the Fakarans know where we are going,” explained the premer. “If Bakhai has told the Fakarans what he told me, then all we can do is stay here and fight it out with the Fakarans. I don’t mind telling you that I think our prospects are not very good.”

“I am confused,” admitted the general. “On one hand you state that the number of elves is small, and on the other you rate our chances as low. How can this be?”

“Because the elves are not our only enemy,” replied Cardijja. “All the elves have to do is deny us sleep. The horsemen will finish the job. We can attack the elves tonight and maybe cause them grievous harm. Maybe not. But in doing so, we will get no sleep for another night. Our men are barely functioning now. Come morning when the horsemen attack, we may be slaughtered.”

“And the options are?” frowned Luggar. “Are you suggesting that we nod off and die in our sleep?”

“No,” Cardijja shook his head. “I am thinking about moving onward so that we are not here in the morning when the horsemen arrive.”

“And go where?” Luggar asked with growing frustration.

“To the Valley of Bones,” answered Premer Cardijja as he tapped the map with his finger. “Bakhai said that it was a defensible position. That is why I need to know if he has revealed our conversations to the Fakarans.”

“Now I understand,” nodded the general. “If Bakhai was a spy, the Fakarans will expect you to go to the Valley of Bones. Your concerns are warranted. I do not trust the lad.”

“I understand that,” conceded the premer, “but even if he was a spy, would he have been smart enough to steer us on such a wild path as the one that we have taken?”

“Inconceivable,” Luggar shook his head. “I detected no sign of intelligence in the boy. I do not think he was truly a spy in the sense that we think of the term, but I do believe that he would spill his guts to anyone who asked. He may have mentioned that he told you about the Valley of Bones, but there is no way that the Fakarans could be expecting us to go there. He mentioned so many places to us. Why would that one stand out in their minds?”

“I have my doubts as to his intelligence,” sighed Cardijja, “but I see no other path for us. We cannot stay here if the horsemen will arrive in the morning.  That would mean certain destruction for our army. That much I know for sure. Where else could we hope to get to?”

“We would have to spend many nights in the forests on a return to Meliban,” answered the general, “and I suspect that the elves would follow us and attack each night. We also would never reach Meliban without days upon the plains, and the horsemen would take their turn at attacking us every night. The Valley of Bones appears to be our only chance. If we can fortify the valley, at least the men can sleep. How will you get past the elves?”

“We will purposely suffer one more attack,” explained the premer as the sounds of fighting died down. “Let the elves believe that we are settling in for the night despite their attacks. I do not want them alerting the horsemen to our plans to vacate this campsite. As soon as the next attack ends, I want the entire army up and moving northward. We will spread out in a swath across the entire stretch of forest. There will be no place for the elves to hide as we march towards the Valley of Bones. Those that are towards our north will be attacked by the vanguard.”

“They will also attack us from behind,” warned the general.

“I have no doubt that they will,” nodded the premer, “but we will have to endure it. It seems that I am always willing to slice off a section of my army to save the rest of it, but I see no other way.”

“Nor do I,” agreed the general. “I will see that the word is passed. You should get some sleep while you can. The elves will not reach this far into the camp.”

* * *

Princess Alahara dropped the air tunnel and stood silently. She looked questioningly at Tamar and Bakhai alongside her.

“Premer Cardijja is an intelligent man,” commented Tamar. “He has correctly determined what our plans are. We are not strong enough to take on his whole army. Do we dare to let him travel to the Valley of Bones with so many men?”

“The Valley of Bones is where we want him,” replied Bakhai. “That is why I told him about it. I am more concerned for the elves at this point. If he spreads his men out to the width of the forest, many elves will die trying to slow down his march. He will force them onto the plains, and they will be easily seen.”

“No they won’t,” smiled Princess Alahara. “Humans should never trust their eyes when they are up against the elves.”

“Illusions?” asked Tamar.

“Illusions,” nodded the elven princess. “What the Motangans think is the edge of the forest will not even be near the edge. We will create an illusion of plains and extend it into the forest on both sides. Our people can hide in that part of the forest that the humans cannot see.”

Tamar grinned broadly. “You have adapted to the ways of the elves quickly,” he commented. “King Avalar would be proud.”

Alahara smiled at Tamar, but her eyes saddened as she turned to Bakhai. “This premer sounds as if he cares for you, Bakhai. You accomplished much during your infiltration. Why are you sad?”

“I do not know,” admitted Bakhai. “When he began to talk about me, I feared that he would see the Valley of Bones as the trap that it is meant to be.”

“What does it matter what the premer thinks?” asked Tamar. “Our task is to kill them all. Perhaps we would be wise to ignite the forest and force the Motangans onto the plains. The Fakarans could then charge into their ranks and destroy them all.”

Princess Alahara’s eyebrow rose as she stared at Tamar, but Bakhai shook his head vigorously.

“No,” Bakhai said adamantly. “Our task is not to kill them all. Our goal is to end this invasion. If the Astor had believed in such tactics in the past, there would be no Fakaran horsemen now. They would have all been destroyed in the war with the Jiadin. We kill only because we must kill to win, but if there is a better way, I know that Rejji would want to try it.”

“Is that why you wanted to lure them into the Valley of Bones?” asked Alahara. “Are you trying to duplicate what Rejji did to Grulak’s men?”

“It might work again,” Bakhai shrugged unconvincingly. “It is worth a try.”

“Not with over a hundred thousand men,” Alahara shook her head. “When Grulak’s men were defeated, they were already mentally prepared to quit. They were severally demoralized and ready to end the fighting, and there were only twenty thousand of them. Even then we had to let them go free. We cannot afford to do that with the Motangans. Cardijja’s army is larger than Grulak’s ever was, and there is another army at Vandegar that must be defeated.”

“And Cardijja’s men are only tired,” added Tamar, “not demoralized. If we give them the chance to sleep, they will attack us with a renewed vigor. We can still lose this war, Bakhai. Take nothing for granted.”

“If you burn this forest and force the Motangans onto the plains,” countered Bakhai, “the tribes can attack them, but we will lose thousands upon thousands of men to defeat them. Rejji cannot afford such losses if we are to march on Vandegar. Perhaps if I reentered the Motangan camp and spoke to Premer Cardijja, he would see the need to surrender.”

Princess Alahara frowned as she wove another air tunnel. Within minutes she had located Rejji and explained the situation to him.

“You cannot stop the Motangans from marching,” replied the Astor. “You just don’t have enough archers to halt such a massive army, and the tribes cannot attack in the forest. Cardijja will march his army into the Valley of Bones. We cannot stop him from doing so, but we can plan to make sure that he does not ever leave it. I will post the Jiadin at the western exit from the Valley of Bones. The free tribes will block the east after the Motangans are enclosed in the valley.”

“And in the meantime?” asked the elven princess.

“Show me what the elves can do to an enemy, Mistake,” grinned the Astor. “Harass them. Kill them. Terrorize them. Do not unnecessarily endanger the elves, but lessen the number of Motangans that must be dealt with in the Valley of Bones.”

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