Kingslayer (15 page)

 It might not be an optimum situation, but it was close enough for Darius’s peace of mind.

Payam timidly approached the window and stuck his head over the edge.

Darius didn’t mind a second set of eyes, and if the boy had the wits to stay nearby and try to learn from him, so much the better. To show Payam that he could stay, Darius said, “The dumpers be gate-pinched now.”

Payam lit up in a toothy grin. “Yes, sir! Loudies riddled for adit here.”

“Now wait a minute,” Darius complained to him good naturedly, “you can’t use words you haven’t taught me yet! Adit? Riddled?”

His runner-teacher smirked at him mischievously.

“Adit,” Bohme translated with a long-suffering sigh, “ish to enter or come in. Riddled ish short on intelligenshe.”

Darius re-phrased it aloud to made sure he understood. “So the enemy is stupid for going through the barriers?”

Both of his teachers nodded.

“Well, you’re right,” he told Payam as he focused back on the enemy. “But they don’t have much choice, you know. Under normal circumstances, they would just wait until the wood burns down. It would only take a few hours. But I’ve hijacked their supplies so they’ve got limited time to win this battle.” He glanced out of the corner of his eye, but Payam’s expression said he’d only understood about half of that explanation. “The loudies are sunsided,” he added.

The confusion cleared up instantly and Payam nodded wisely, as if he had understood all along.

The first wave of Brindisi soldiers reached the burning barriers. Without any real choice on their part, they were forced to break up their ranks in order to go through the gaps. It was survival instinct, really—who would consciously choose to run into open flame?

It had to be beastly hot down there, though. The sun had been well up in the sky for an hour now, making the day progressively warmer and being so close to that much fire had to make the men unbearably hot. In a way, that heat became another weapon that taxed the men’s stamina.

The forerunners broke through the first level and into the open area between the two sets of barriers. Of course, they were immediately engaged by the Niotan foot soldiers. Darius’s watchtower stood several hundred paces behind the front lines, but even from here the clash of weapons and the blood-curdling war cries made an almost deafening cacophony. War-hardened, Darius didn’t even flinch and his blood quickened in a habitual rush.

Bohme’s hand closed over his wrist, startling Darius. “Can’t fight from here, shir.”

Darius turned to him in surprise. Now when had he…? Darius lifted his hand from his sword hilt and flexed it a little. He had no memory of grabbing for the weapon. “Old habits die hard, it seems,” he said, a little embarrassed at his own reflexes.

His bodyguard kindly didn’t comment, although the sardonic quirk to his mouth spoke volumes as he stepped back to the side.

Clearing his throat, he forced his mind to concentrate on the task at hand. Unable to effectively use their superior numbers, the Brindisi soldiers were down to man-to-man fighting and were not making any headway. In fact, the progress slowed to a crawl and within minutes, came to a complete standstill. The men were bottlenecked in the winding paths the burning barriers had created. No one could even begin to shove their way forward.

Kaveh’s engineers had done their job well. The Niotan line held steady without any strain as they systematically dealt with their enemies.

“We can hold them at bay for hours like this,” Darius observed in open satisfaction. “We won’t even need to use the second set until tomorrow.
Excellent
.”

“How many will Jahangir loshe today?” Bohme asked while watching over Darius’s shoulder.

“Hmmm…hard to say.” Darius didn’t look away as he responded, carefully watching his men to make sure that no one made a costly mistake. “This tactic limits how many men Jahangir can throw at us, but it also limits how many
we
can attack as well. At best, another thousand or so. I think it will actually be less than that.”

“Another thoushand…,” Bohme muttered to himself, sounding a little depressed.

Darius shot him a sympathetic grimace. “I can’t work miracles. With the number of troops and supplies I have—” not to mention the limited amount of time he’d had to plan with “—this is the best we can do at this moment. It’s a battle of attrition. We’ll wear them down bit by bit.”

Silence reigned for a long moment as Payam and Bohme thought this through. Then the bodyguard ventured, “Ish that why you shaid sheven daysh? A thoushand for each day?”

“Well, I always plan for the worst,” Darius admitted with a splay of his hands in an open shrug. “But I
do
have other plans in place. I’m not depending solely on battling the enemy to a standstill. This particular battle, you see, is a matter of stamina and patience.” His lips drew back in a feral smile. “And Jahangir’s men don’t have much of either. They’ll surely do something stupid and rash soon.”

Bohme snorted. “You’re enjoying thish.”

“I most certainly am,” he agreed without batting an eye. “Beating a mentally unarmed opponent is one of the more enjoyable things in life, don’t you think?”

Payam gave him the same half-amused, half-resigned look that Bohme did. “Barmecide, you are, sir.”

So I look attractive but am actually deadly?
Darius decided to take that as a compliment. “Thank you, Payam. I think.” He couldn’t let these two distract him. The sun stood almost directly above them now, which meant that soon his commanders would start switching out the fighting troops with the rear guard, allowing them to rest. The maneuver had to be performed right otherwise the Brindisi foot soldiers would find openings in their defense and be able to bull their way through. Darius had a few back up contingencies in place in case that happened, but he’d rather not use any of them unless he had to.

He shifted from one foot to the other, watching impatiently as the men were slowly replaced by fresh troops. Never once did the line falter, although the end caps had a bit more trouble than the center did. Probably because they were under greater pressure than Kaveh’s men, as the best place to break through would be at the end of the line. Of course, at the end caps, it became a little difficult to see the exact movements. Even with his spy glass, the men were about the size of grasshoppers.

When the new men were in place and the fighting continued, Darius blew out a breath. If they could move
that
smoothly, he had nothing to worry about.

During the course of the day, the barriers burned to the ground and left nothing more than smoldering charcoal in their place. The open plains no longer had any obstructions on them. But the damage had been done and the strong phalanx formations that Brindisi was known for had been broken apart so thoroughly that they stood no chance of reforming them in the middle of a chaotic battlefield. The heat of the day slowly passed until the sky faded into the rich orange and gold of sunset.

Brindisi’s commanders sounded the horns in the long, eerie notes of retreat and the foot soldiers trudged back to their camp without winning one inch of soil. Darius panned the battle front, slowly counting. Even with the aid of his spy glass, he found that he could not accurately count from one end to the other and so had to guess after a certain point. “A little under one thousand fallen. On our side, I count a little under two hundred fallen. Payam, go down and talk to the commanders. I want an accurate headcount.”

“Sir!” Payam scampered down the ladder at his usual break-neck speed.

“Five more daysh,” Bohme stated quietly.

“Five more days,” Darius agreed.

Darius sat cross-legged at his table, arms propped on the surface. He had called his commanders to his tent an hour before, but the last had only just arrived. Navid gave him a salute of acknowledgement before taking the final place at the table.

Without looking at the man, Darius waved Sego to a cushion nearby, making sure the man knew he couldn’t just stand and hover as he was wont to do. Sego probably gave him quite the acerbic glare for that, but he carefully didn’t notice. “Alright, what are the final numbers?”

“Two thousand deserted this morning,” Ramin reported instantly, although he had a sour look on his face as the words left his mouth. The look he gave Darius had an edge of caution to it, as if he weren’t quite sure what losing the bet entailed. “We counted 853 fallen on their side. We lost 218.”

More or less what Darius expected. Good. “So Jahangir has just over nine thousand left? Not bad for a day’s work. Navid, have you spoken with Captain Zubin about his plans for tonight?”

“He said water bags and horses tonight.”

Darius had to translate that a little in his head.
The man knows I don’t mind his phrasing, and he’s still speaking to me cryptically?
Well, it might be the audience they had. Navid had no doubt worked long and hard to get his position while enduring a lot of mocking by his peers in the process. Now that he had his rank, he didn’t want to seem “inferior” to either Kaveh or Ramin. Darius had lived through the same joys of rank-climbing and he couldn’t imagine that it would be much different in Niotan than it had been in Brindisi. “That’s fine. Make sure that he’s out of their camp by midnight, as usual. Have we had any deserters yet? Aside from the barbarians,” he added with admirable neutrality.

Ramin still gave him a sour response. “Aside from them, no sir.”

“Hmmm.” Darius really didn’t want to fight anyone more than he had to. The more soldiers he could convince to give up, the better. “Then I think it’s time to bring out the dancing girls.”

~~~

Darius climbed back into the watchtower to get a good view. In the cool night air of the desert, the bonfires burned brightly and cast everything into silhouette. The bonfires were strategically placed—they were close to the camp and spaced so that they looked random but everyone on the Brindisi side had a clear view. The women were mostly from the camp followers: washwomen, cooks, and nurses. None of them were particularly beautiful or fascinating to look at, but from a distance, they didn’t have to be. They’d rustled up some musicians—in an army of this size, that wasn’t difficult to do, there were bound to be at least a few that could play
something
—and in the still air, the music travelled quite some distance. From the Brindisi camp, it looked like the Niotan soldiers had wine, women and song without a care in the world. It probably helped that the Niotan soldiers actually
were
enjoying themselves.

Satisfied, he climbed back down the ladder. Sego patiently waited for him to jump the last few steps before speaking. “General, I had suspected that you were evil before this, but…,” he paused and gave an elaborate look at the nearest bonfire and dancing women, “
this
is evil.”

“Evil genius,” Darius corrected with a gamine grin. “It’s mental warfare. No one wants to fight an army that is so confident in their victory that they will actually party the night before. Besides, I’ve faced this situation once.” He grimaced at the memory. “None of my men deserted, but most of them stayed up all night to secretly watch the women dance. They were…
not
in the best fighting shape the next day.”

“I can imagine.” Sego paused to study him for a long moment. “These tactics that you use. Are they all based on prior experience?”

“The best tactics are passed on by the survivors,” Darius responded with a casual shrug. “I’ve been in war since I was fourteen. You pick up a few tricks here and there.” He turned and looked over the opposing camp. “If Shaa is smiling on us, this will help us save a few lives.”

“I also never would have expected you to be a religious man,” Sego stated quietly.

Darius gave him a curious look. “Just
what
did you hear about me, anyway? You speak of me as if I were described as evil incarnate.”

“You were.” An uncharacteristic smile briefly crossed Sego’s face. “When Queen Tresea asked me to be your aide, I truly struggled with myself because of all the rumors I’d heard of you. I consider myself blessed that you are not as you were portrayed.”

You and everyone else in this country
. Darius bit back the thought before he said that aloud. He didn’t think it appropriate to say. “Well, as your evil, overbearing Raj, I order you to go to bed. We both have to be mentally sharp tomorrow.”

Sego came alert, posture tense. “You say that as if you’re expecting something to happen tomorrow.”

“If
I
were in command over there, something would,” he admitted frankly, eyes drawn back to the enemy encampment. “Even Jahangir is likely scheming something. He lost two thousand soldiers today when he shouldn’t have. He’s down to meager supplies that he cannot easily replace. He’s desperate enough at this point to give the ridiculous and risky gambles a try.”

“Like what?”

He rubbed at his gritty eyes with both hands. “I don’t know. That’s what scares me.”

~~~

It wasn’t an overt or loud sound that wrenched Darius from sleep. But it didn’t need to be. After being in war for so long, someone sneaking around would instinctively jar him out of a sound sleep faster than anything else. He had rolled out of his bed, snatched his sword out of its sheath and put both feet under him before his eyes could even properly open.