Army of the Dead (57 page)

“Will you be at the valley?” asked Alahara.

“Everyone will be at the Valley of Bones,” answered Rejji. “It is the final battle for Premer Cardijja and his men. Once the Motangans enter the valley, they will not be allowed to leave again.”

“Do not mistake these Motangans for Jiadin,” warned Alahara. “These men know how to climb cliffs. Merely sealing the exits from the valley will not contain Cardijja’s men. They have no horses to worry about.”

“That is why the elves will be needed there,” replied Rejji. “Your archers will hold the high ground and deny any escape up the cliffs. The Qubari will seal the exits, and the tribes will prepare to charge into the valley to finish off the Motangans. Before two nights have passed, the Motangan army will no longer exist.”

“What if I ask for their surrender?” Bakhai said into the air tunnel. “Maybe we can avoid all of this killing.”

“No, Bakhai,” Rejji replied sternly. “Under no circumstances are you to enter their camp. They would immediately know that you have spied on them, and I am not prepared to sacrifice my brother for such a fruitless plan. We cannot expect the surrender of such a large army. Cardijja is not a fool. If he can get sleep for his men, he can still march on Angragar and seize it for Vand.”

After agreeing to Rejji’s plan, Princess Alahara dropped the air tunnel and called for the mages. She explained what she wanted in terms of illusions and then called for a meeting of the unit leaders. The elven officers gathered around, and the princess explained the plan. Bakhai quickly grew bored with the discussion. He rose and paced the forest, inexplicably being drawn towards the Motangan encampment. As he stood in the darkness peering at the Motangan sentries from the cover of a tree, Cardijja’s words replayed in his mind. He was not entirely sure why, but Premer Cardijja appeared to be a reasonable man to Bakhai. While the Motangans had to be halted, the thought of killing them all did not sit well. Bakhai had hoped that the Valley of Bones would allow for a Motangan surrender, but no one else believed that possible, especially not the Motangans.

* * *

Premer Cardijja winced as another volley of elven arrows sailed into the camp. Scores of Motangans fell to the arrows. The red-clad soldiers fired back, but they were firing blindly. The elves were so well concealed that they might as well have been invisible.

“When will this end?” asked General Luggar. “We cannot just sit here and endure this.”

“No, we can’t,” agreed the premer. “I had hoped for some element of surprise when we made our move, but this attack is far longer than the last. Sound the call for the men to move northward. If we are to die, let us do it as warriors, not targets.”

General Luggar signaled a soldier, and the man blew hard on his horn. As if eagerly awaiting the signal, thousands of Motangan soldiers immediately rose in the center of the encampment, shouts of war ripping through the air. The center of the camp surged to the north as the men on the perimeter stepped aside. The Motangans charged into the darkness of the forest, their voices shouting death to the hidden elves. As the men along the camp perimeter held their positions, the rest of the Motangans surged after the vanguard. They spread out at angles to encompass the entire width of the forest, or what they perceived to be the edge of the forest.

“The elves to the north must have been defeated,” noted the general. “There are no more arrows coming in from that direction.”

“More likely they retreated,” Premer Cardijja shook his head. “Even with a good hiding spot, I would not stand in the path of this army. The elves will halt and fire at the vanguard and then retreat again. Let’s mount up.”

The officers mounted and rode into the center of the marching army. When the bulk of the Motangans had pushed northward, the perimeter guards folded in towards the center of the camp and became the rear guard for the advance to the north.

“The men appear more energetic than I would have expected,” commented Luggar as they rode protected in the mass of Motangan soldiers.

“That will not last,” replied Cardijja. “They had a small amount of sleep, but they are quickly wearing themselves out. I expect the elves will continue to harass us throughout this march northward. The sooner we reach the Valley of Bones, the better.”

“And the Fakaran horsemen?” questioned the general. “Will they be waiting for us between the forest and the valley?”

“That is something that we must plan for,” nodded the premer. “I have given orders to halt at the edge of the forest. At that point we should have elves only behind us. I intend to exit the forest in the daylight. I would rather suffer an elven attack at night than another devastating charge from the horsemen.”

“What if we can get the elves to move from their concealment by pushing them onto the plain?” questioned the general.

“Then the elves will die,” the premer said with hope in his voice. “They are excellent archers, but they must be far fewer than we are. If they leave their concealment, we will attack them and destroy them.”

The officers rode on in silence for some time. The sounds of battle were evident from both the vanguard and the tail of the column. While there were no reports from the rear, the results of the battle at the front of the column were evident. A steady trail of Motangan bodies was visible to the officers even in the darkness of the forest.

“We are losing many men,” General Luggar finally said as his horse stepped over a body. “Most of the elves must be before us.”

“We are losing too many,” frowned Premer Cardijja. “I would gladly trade ten thousand men for a decent night’s sleep for the rest, but we may end up losing even more than that. These soldiers are at the end of their endurance.”

“We all are,” the general said softly. “I will be glad when this night ends, and we exit this forest of death.”

* * *

In front of the Motangan vanguard, a group of elven archers fired arrows into the advancing enemy. They started in the center of the vanguard and worked their way towards the edges of the forest where they stepped into the illusion and regrouped. The group of elves then raced northward inside the illusion while another group of elves repeated the procedure. The result was a constant attack on the Motangan vanguard, and red-clad bodies littered the forest floor.

When the elves reached the northern limit of the forest, they used the illusion to safely pass southward and join up with the rest of the elves that had been harassing the tail of the Motangan column. The Motangan army halted at the northern edge of the forest and took up a defensive posture as they waited for the sun to rise.

The sun had barely risen above the horizon when Premer Cardijja gave the order to march onto the plain. Thousands of red-clad soldiers stepped hesitantly out of the forest, expecting the Fakaran horsemen to appear at any moment. When the horsemen did not appear, many of the soldiers smiled in relief. Premer Cardijja and General Luggar rode out of the forest and gazed at the yawning mouth of the valley in the distance.

“It will take more than a few hours to reach the valley,” frowned General Luggar.

“I don’t care if it takes all day,” replied the premer, “as long as we are in the valley by sundown. I want to ride ahead and see what awaits us there. Will you join me?”

Luggar was about to object because of the danger of being so far out in front of the army, but he suddenly nodded instead.

“We might as well look at it,” shrugged the general. “It is going to be our home until the men regain their strength. Do you think the Fakarans will attack as they did yesterday?”

“I had expected them to be waiting for us,” admitted the premer, “but look at the lay of the land. The approach to the valley climbs steadily and the paths from the north and south are rough and creviced. The Fakarans could not easily attack us without a great deal of advance notice, and there is natural protection for our men. Our men may be tired, but they will still fight for their lives. I do not think the Fakarans care to submit to a fair fight against us. This is not ground of their choosing.”

“You almost sound optimistic,” commented the general.

“For the first time in days,” smiled the premer, “I am optimistic. Look at the approach to the valley. Once we hold that gap, no one will get through it. I can only hope that the western entrance is as well situated. While I will hold off on my final evaluation, it is beginning to appear as though Bakhai’s advice was excellent. That is why I am anxious to see the valley.”

“Then let us go and see it,” Luggar nodded with a hint of a smile.

The officers rode through the swarming army and had soon passed the vanguard. Even on horseback the trip into the valley took well over an hour, and that was with the horses being ridden hard. The officers slowed as the gap narrowed considerably. At the gap’s narrowest point, it turned sharply. Cardijja paused to turn around and view his army crossing the plain. There was no sign of either the horsemen or the elves. He nodded with satisfaction and continued into the valley. The narrow gap continued for a ways before it opened up into a broad valley surrounded by high cliffs. Cardijja and Luggar halted to gaze upon the huge valley.

“This is magnificent,” Cardijja sighed with satisfaction. “We can hold the eastern entrance with only a thousand men, and look at the room within the valley. It is massive.”

“Not much in the way of food,” frowned Luggar as he gazed at the flat and empty floor of the valley.

“Not yet,” Cardijja brushed off the general’s pessimism, “but we have only just entered the valley. Let’s ride across and check out the western approach.”

The officers proceeded across the valley at a moderate pace. Cardijja pointed out a small herd of deer on the way, but Luggar still remained concerned. When they reached the western exit from the valley, they halted again. There was a straight view through the narrow gap looking down on a vast forest with a wide trail running through it.

“It’s perfect,” grinned Cardijja. “If we put some men up on the cliffs, we will see the Fakarans coming while they are still a long ways off. In the meantime, we can harvest the game in that forest. We have found a temporary home, Luggar. Here our men will be fed and rested and ready to resume the war.”

Even Luggar smiled at the thought. “It is a defendable valley,” the general conceded. “Perhaps I was wrong about Bakhai after all. Certainly no Fakaran would willingly tell us of this place.”

“I miss him,” Cardijja said with sadness in his voice. “Something about that lad got to me, Luggar.”

“You should know better than to allow such things to happen,” scolded the general. “There is no time for such feelings during war. While I may have been wrong about the lad, your attachment to him is still dangerous. Be glad that he is gone.”

Cardijja frowned at his general and turned his horse to the east. Without further words, the premer started back towards his army. General Luggar followed, but he did not speak. The officers halted at the eastern gap and gazed out at the approaching army for several long minutes without speaking.

“I am only speaking to you as a friend,” Luggar finally said softly. “At best, thinking of Bakhai now is only a distraction for you. You must concentrate on our position.”

Slowly Cardijja’s frown softened, and he nodded in agreement. “I am fortunate to have such a friend,” smiled the premer. “I do not know why my thoughts waver so.”

“Because of your son,” Luggar said almost in a whisper. “It is understandable.”

“You know about Armen?” Cardijja said with surprise. “I thought no one knew.”

“I would not be a good general if I did not strive to know everything about my superior,” shrugged Luggar. “While your thoughts are understandable, you must forcibly refuse to let them take hold. We are not out of this war yet.”

“You are correct, my friend,” smiled the premer. “I just need sleep as you and the men do. I will be fine in the morning.”

“I will have your tent erected as soon as the men arrive,” promised Luggar. “I will take care of getting the camp set up.”

“That is much appreciated,” replied the premer. “I want three thousand men camped within sight of each of the exits. Detail some men to kill the herd of deer that we saw and prepare it for everyone. In the morning we will send men out to harvest the forest. In three day’s time, we march to the east to kill the horsemen and find Angragar.”

“So it shall be,” Luggar smiled as he welcomed his premer back to the real world. “Go find a spot for your tent and rest. I will have the men erect the tent over you. Just let the horse graze. I will secure him later.”

Premer Cardijja smiled and nodded and then turned towards the center of the valley. He chose the spot for his tent and stretched out on the ground. Within minutes he was fast asleep.

General Luggar remained at the eastern gap, issuing instructions to the men as they entered the valley. He was extremely tired, but he smiled as he welcomed the soldiers into the valley and issued instructions for setting up the camp.

Far above the floor of the valley, the Astor sat watching the Motangans entering the trap. Gathered around him were the leaders of the various groups under his command.

“There are so many of them,” commented Wyant as he watched the red-clad soldiers file into the Valley of Bones. “Are you sure that we can contain them?”

“We must,” answered Rejji. “There are many of them, but there will be far fewer by morning. Yltar, order the sealing of the western exit.”

Bakhai watched as the Qubari shaman wove an air tunnel to someone high above the western exit. He could almost picture the huge tyriks climbing into the gap and spinning the web that would seal the entrance.

“Perhaps we can demand their surrender,” suggested the Astor’s brother. “Those men could be used to rebuild Fakara.”

“We have talked about this before,” Rejji shook his head. “We cannot control a hundred thousand men, Bakhai. They could promise to surrender and then change their minds when they are fully rested. It is too dangerous.”

“Perhaps when there are less of them,” interjected Princess Alahara. “Tomorrow there will be less than half of them left.”