Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun (22 page)

BOOK: Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun
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small, its touch light. Her palm was blistered, rimed with dried

blood. Yet it was the captain who winced slightly.

He looked down at his hand when she released him, rubbed it

on his leather corselet, as if rubbing away the pain of sting or bum.

"Make haste, Captain. We don't have much time," Mina or-

dered.

" And just who are you, Sir Knight?" Captain Samuval asked.

He was still rubbing his hand.

"I am Mina," she said.

Grasping the reins, she pulled sharply. Foxfire wheeled. Mina

dug in her spurs, galloped straight for the ridge above Beckard's

Cut. Her Knights rode alongside her. Galdar ran at her stirrup,

legs pumping to keep up.

"How do you know that Captain Samuval will obey you,

Mina ?" the minotaur roared over the pounding of horses' hooves.

She looked down on him and smiled. Her amber eyes were

bright in the shadow of the helm.

"He will obey," she said, "if for no other reason now than to

demonstrate his disdain for his superiors and their foolish com-

mands. But the captain is a man who hungers, Galdar. He yearns

for food. They have given him clay to fill his belly. I will give him

meat. Meat to nourish his soul."

Mina leaned over her horse's head and urged the animal to

gallop even faster.

 

Captain Samuval's Archer Company took up position on the

ridgeline overlooking Beckard's Cut. They were several hundred

strong, well-trained professional bowmen who had fought in

many of Neraka's wars before now. They used the elven long

bow, so highly prized among arfhers. Taking up their places, they

stood foot to foot, packed tightly together, with not much room to

maneuver, for the ridgeline was not long. The archers were in a

foul mood. Watching the army of the Knights of Neraka sweep

down on Sanction, the men muttered that there would be nothing

left for them-the finest women carried off, the richest houses

plundered. They might as well go home.

Above them clouds thickened; roiling gray clouds that bub-

bled up over the Zhakar Mountains and began to slide down the

mountain's side.

The army camp was empty, now, except for the tents and

supply wagons and a few wounded who had been unable to go

with their brethren and were cursing their ill luck. The clamor of

the battle moved away from them. The surrounding mountains

and the lowering clouds deflected the sounds of the attacking

army. The valley was eerily silent.

The archers looked sullenly to their captain, who looked im-

patiently to Mina.

"What are your orders, Talon Leader?" he asked.

"Wait," she said.

They waited. The army washed up against the walls of Sanc-

tion, pounded against the gate. The noise and commotion was far

away, a distant rumbling. Mina removed her helm, ran her hand

over her shorn head with its down of dark red hair. She sat

straight-backed upon her horse, her chin lifted. Her gaze was not

on Sanction but on the blue sky above them, blue sky that was

rapidly darkening.

The archers stared, astounded at her youth, amazed at her

strange beauty. She did not heed their stares, did not hear their

coarse remarks that were swallowed by the silence welling up out

of the valley. The men felt something ominous about the silence.

Those who continued to make remarks did so out of bravado and

were almost immediately hushed by their uneasy comrades.

An explosion rocked the ground around Sanction, shattered

the silence. The clouds boiled, the sunlight vanished. The Neraka

army's gloating roars of victory were abruptly cut off. Shouts of

triumph shrilled to screams of panic.

"What is happening?" demanded the archers, their tongues

loosed. Everyone talked at once. "Can you see?"

"Silence in the ranks!" Captain Samuval bellowed.

One of the Knights, who had been posted as observer near the

cut, came galloping toward them.

"It was a trap!" He began to yell when he was still some distance

away. "The gates of Sanction opened to our forces, but only to spew

forth the Solamnics! There must be a thousand of them. Sorcerers

ride at their head, dealing death with their cursed magicks!"

The Knight reined in his excited horse. "You spoke truly,

Mina!" His voice was awed, reverent. "A huge blast of magical

power killed hundreds of our troops at the outset. Their bodies lie

smoldering on the field. Our soldiers are fleeing! They are run-

ning this way, ,retreating through the cut. It is a rout!"

" All is lost, then," said Captain Samuval, though he looked at

Mina strangely. "The Solamnic forces will drive the army into the

valley. We will be caught between the anvil of the mountains and

the hammer of the Solamnics."

His words proved true. Those in the rear echelons were al-

ready streaming back through Heckard's Cut. Many had no idea

where they were going, only that they wanted to be far away

from the blood and the death. A few of the less confused and

more calculating were making for the narrow road that ran

through the mountains to Khur.

"A standard!" Mina said urgently. "Find me a standard!"

Captain Samuval took hold of the grimy white scarf he wore

around his neck and handed it up to her. "Take this and welcome,

Mina."

Mina took the scarf in her hands, bowed her head. Whisper-

ing words no one could hear, she kissed the scarf and handed it

to Galdar. The white fabric was stained red with blood from the

raw blisters on her hand. One of Mina's Knights offered his lance.

Galdar tied the bloody scarf onto the lance, handed the lance back

to Mina.

Wheeling Foxfire, she rode him up the rocks to a high

promontory and held the standard aloft.

"To me, men!" she shouted. "To Mina!"

The clouds parted. A mote of sunlight jabbed from the heav-

ens, touched only Mina as she sat astride her horse on the ridge-

line. Her black armor blazed as if dipped in flame, her amber eyes

gleamed, lit from behind with the light of battle. Her redound, a

clarion call, brought the fleeing soldiers to a halt. They looked to

see from whence the call came and saw Mina outlined in flame,

blazing like a beacon fire upon the hillside.

The fleeing soldiers halted in their mad dash, looked up,

dazzled.

"To me!" Mina yelled again. "Glory is ours this day!"

The soldiers hesitated, then one ran toward her, scrambling,

slipping and sliding up the hillside. Another followed and an-

other, glad to have purpose and direction once again.

"Bring those men over there to me," Mina ordered Galdar,

pointing to another group of soldiers in full retreat. "As ~any as

you can gather. See that they are armed. Draw them up in battle

formation there on the rocks below."

Galdar did as he was commanded. He and the other Knights

blocked the path of the retreating soldiers, ordered them to join

their comrades who were starting to form a dark pool at Mina's

feet. More and more soldiers were pouring through the cut, the

Knights of Neraka riding among them, some of the officers

making valiant attempts to halt the retreat, others joining the foot-

men in a run for their lives. Behind them rode Solamnic Knights

in their gleaming silver armor, their white-feathered crests.

Deadly, silver light flashed, and everywhere that light appeared,

men withered and died in its magical heat. The Solamnic Knights

entered the cut, driving the forces of the Knights of Neraka like

cattle before them, driving them to slaughter.

"Captain Samuval," cried Mina, riding her horse down the

hill, her standard streaming behind her. "Order your men to fire."

"The Solamnics are not in bow range," he said to her, shaking

his head at her foolishness. "Any fool can see that."

"The Solamnics are not your target Captain," Mina returned

coolly. She pointed to the forces of the Knights of Neraka stream-

ing through the cut. "Those are your targets."

"Our own men?" Captain Samuval stared at her. "You are

mad."

"Look upon the field of battle, Captain," Mina said. "It is the

only way."

Captain Samuvallooked. He wiped his face with his hand,

then he gave the command. "Bowmen, fire."

"What target?" demanded one.

"You heard Mina!" said the captain harshly. Grabbing a bow

from one of his men, he nocked an arrow and fired.

The arrow pierced the throat of one of the fleeing Knights of

Neraka. He fell backward off his horse and was trampled in the

rush of his retreating comrades.

Archer Company fired. Hundreds of arrows-each shot with

deliberate, careful aim at point-blank range-filled the air with a

deadly buzz. Most found their targets. Foot soldiers clutched

their chests and dropped. The feathered shafts struck through the

raised visors of the helmed Knights or took them in the throat.

"Continue firing, Captain," Mina commanded.

More arrows flew. More bodies fell. The panic-stricken sol-

diers realized that the arrows were coming from in front of them

now. They faltered, halted, trying to discover the location of this

new enemy. Their comrades crashed into them from behind,

driven mad by the approaching Solamnic Knights. The steep

walls of Beckard's Cut prevented any escape.

"Fire!" Captain Samuval shouted wildly, caught up in the

fervor of death-dealing. "For Mina!"

"For Mina!" cried the archers and fired.

Arrows hummed with deadly accuracy, thunked into their

targets. Men screamed and fell. The dying were starting to pile up

like hideous cord wood in the cut forming a blood-soaked

barricade.

An officer came raging toward them, his sword in his hand.

"You fool!" he screamed at Captain Samuval. "Who gave you

your orders? You're firing on your own men!"

"I gave him the order," said Mina calmly.

Furious, the 'Knight accosted her. "Traitor!" He raised his

blade.

Mina sat unmoving on her horse. She paid no attention to the

Knight, she was intent upon the carnage below. Galdar brought

down a crushing fist on the Knight's helm. The Knight, his neck

broken, went rolling and tumbling down the hillside. Galdar

sucked bruised knuckles and looked up at Mina.

He was astounded to see tears flowing unchecked down her

cheeks. Her hand clasped the medallion around her neck. Her

lips moved, she might have been praying.

Attacked from in front, attacked from behind, the soldiers

inside Beckard's Cut began milling about in confusion. Behind

them, their comrades faced a terrible choice. They could either be

speared in the back by the Solamnics or they could turn and fight.

They wheeled to face the enemy, battling with the ferocity of the

desperate, the cornered.

The Solamnics continued to fight, but their charge was slowed

and, at length, ground to a halt.

"Cease fire!" Mina ordered. She handed her standard to

Galdar. Drawing her morning star, she held it high over her head.

"Knights of Neraka! Our hour has come! We ride this day to

glory!"

Foxfire gave a great leap and galloped down the hillside, car-

rying Mina straight at the vanguard of the Solamnic Knights. So

swift was Foxfire, so sudden Mina's move, that she left her own

Knights behind. They watched, open-mouthed, as Mina rode to

what must be her doom. Then Galdar raised the white standard.

"Death is certain!" the minotaur thundered. "But so is glory!

For Mina!"

"For Mina!" cried the Knights in grim, deep voices and they

rode their horses down the hill.

"For Mina!" yelled Captain Samuval, dropping his bow and

drawing his short sword. He and the entire Archer Company

charged into the fray.

"For Mina!" shouted the soldiers, who had gathered around

her standard. Rallying to her cause, they dashed after her, a dark

cascade of death rumbling down the hillside.

Galdar raced down the hillside, desperate to catch up to Mina,

to protect and defend her. She had never been in a battle. She was

unskilled, untrained. She must surely die. Enemy faces loomed

up before him. Their swords slashed at him, their spears jabbed

at him, their arrows stung him. He struck their swords aside,

broke their spears, ignored their arrows. The enemy was an irri-

tant, keeping him from his goal. He lost her and then he found

her, found her completely surrounded by the enemy.

Galdar saw one knight try to impale Mina on his sword. She

turned the blow, struck at him with the morning star. Her first

blow split open his helm. Her next blow split open his head. But

while she fought him, another was coming to attack her from

behind. Galdar bellowed a warning, though he knew with de-

spair that she could not hear him. He battled ferociously to reach

her, cutting down those who stood between him and his com-

mander, no longer seeing their faces, only the bloody streaks of

his slashing sword.

He kept his gaze fixed on her, and his fury blazed, and his

heart stopped beating when he saw her pulled from her horse. He

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