Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

An hour later the order was passed along the column. Cardijja opened his eyes and let in the light of dawn. The Motangan army started filtering out of the jungle. Premer Cardijja patted his horse forward and broke through the last remaining jungle plants to emerge onto the plain. His head swiveled from left to right as a long line of red-clad soldiers emerged from the jungle and headed westward across the open plain. He spurred his horse into action and rode across the line of soldiers, shouting as he rode.

“There is a long day’s march ahead of us,” he shouted, “but a good night’s sleep at the end of it. March lively and cross as quickly as you can, but keep together. There are tribesmen out here.”

The soldiers immediately quickened their step, but Cardijja frowned when their enthusiasm only lasted a few minutes. The men were weary and at the end of their strength. They needed sleep before they fought anything. Cardijja wheeled his horse around and rode out ahead of the soldiers. When he was well ahead of them, he turned to gaze upon them. He saw another rider approaching and soon recognized General Luggar.

“It is not wise for you to be so far from the army,” advised the general as he caught up to the premer.

“It is wise to have a scout out front,” retorted Cardijja. “I want to see if the tribesmen are coming.”

“Let me be the scout,” offered Luggar.

“Where do you get your strength from?” asked the premer. “You have been running around more than I have. You should be dead on your feet.”

“I caught some sleep last night,” shrugged the general. “While you were planning our escape, I was napping peacefully. I wish you had gotten some sleep. It will be a long day.”

“We will ride together,” declared the premer. “Two sets of eyes are better than one.”

The two officers rode for hours far out in front of their men. Their eyes constantly scanned the horizon looking for any signs of the Fakaran horsemen. High sun came and went, and the premer began to feel good about his decision to evacuate the jungle. It appeared as though they had fooled the Fakarans and slipped away from the trap that had been laid for them. As the sun began to dip towards the peaks of the mountains, the officers came to a small rise. They rode to the summit and halted.

“The forest!” exclaimed General Luggar pointing to the west. “We have made it.”

“So we have,” grinned the premer. “I wish there was a god to offer up praise to.”

“You do not believe that Vand is a god?” asked the general. “You truly do not care much for your life. What has happened to you, old friend? You were never so skeptical before.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” sighed the premer as he swiveled in his saddle.

As the premer turned to look back at his army his mouth fell open, and he cursed loudly. General Luggar turned to see what had caused the premer such alarm. Far to the east a huge dust cloud rose over the plain. Barely visible in the distance were thousands of horses charging from both directions. The Fakarans were decimating the tail end of the Motangan column.

“Those cowardly dogs,” spat the general. “They are murdering our men while we are in retreat.”

“That does not make them cowardly,” Cardijja sighed in frustration. “Actually it is a brilliant move. Had they attacked the vanguard, you and I could have warned the men to prepare for an attack. Instead they hit us at our weakest position. We must learn to expect the unexpected from the Fakarans. Ride out to the column. I want the first two thirds of the men to continue onward towards the forest. The last third is to stand and fight.”

“They must all stand and fight,” objected the general. “You cannot throw a third of your army away.”

“Follow my orders,” snapped the premer. “The men are too tired and weak from hunger to fight. We can sacrifice a third of the men to save two thirds, or we can lose them all. I intend to save those that I can. Move out.”

General Luggar saluted formally and rode to the east. Premer Cardijja watched in rage as the Fakarans charged over and over again. The column of Motangans began to get visibly smaller as the horsemen worked their way westward leaving thousands of bodies in their wake. Eventually the Motangan army splintered into two groups. The large group hurried westward while the small group spread out in a semicircle facing east. Cardijja wanted to bow his head in prayer for the brave men that were offering up their lives to help their brethren, but he refused to accept Vand as a god, and he knew no other god. Instead, he sat in stony silence as he watched his men defend against the Fakaran horsemen.

An hour later the vanguard of the Motangan army ran over the small knoll. Cardijja waved them onward, pointing to the forest not far to the west. Tears came unbidden to his eyes as he watched the slaughter of the defenders down on the plain to the east. Their arc of defense grew smaller with each Fakaran charge until none of the Motangans were left. Expecting the horsemen to pursue the rest of the Motangan army, Premer Cardijja was surprised to see the Fakarans turn to the south and ride away. Moments late General Luggar arrived atop the knoll.

“The Fakarans retreated,” Cardijja remarked softly.

Luggar turned in his saddle and stared down at the plain. His eyes widened in astonishment.

“Why?” he asked. “Why did they not pursue the rest of us?”

“I don’t know,” replied Cardijja, “but the action does not bring comfort to me.”

“You would have preferred for them to continue attacking us?” asked the general.

“No,” Cardijja shook his head, “but their departure puzzles me.”

“Maybe they are only interested in attacking the weakest portions of our army?” suggested Luggar.

“That is possible,” shrugged the premer, “and it would be a wise strategy, but I am forcing myself to expect the unexpected. How large is this strand of forest?”

“It is not charted,” answered the general, “but it is huge. What we saw riding eastward was that it extended far to the north of the pass we came through. Do you think they plan to attack us again when we leave the forest?”

“That is a possibility,” nodded the premer. “If that is their plan, the Fakarans will be in for a surprise. Once our men are rested, an attack like today’s will cost the horsemen greatly. They should have pursued us while we were still tired. The ease of their victory today will make them unprepared for a true Motangan defense.”

Premer Cardijja wheeled his horse around and headed down the western slope of the knoll. General Luggar rode alongside, his previous disagreement with the premer behind him. As the sun was disappearing from the sky, they rode into the coolness of the sevemore forest. The Motangans had moved well into the forest before setting up camp. Campfires dotted the woods, and several deer were already being cooked over the fires. Cardijja smiled broadly as he saw the spirits of his men returning. When he made his way to the center of the camp, he saw that his tent was just being erected. He dismounted and handed his reins to a soldier. Luggar dismounted as well.

“This is like paradise,” Luggar smiled before touching the premer on the arm and looking at him seriously. “I want to apologize for my words earlier, Cardijja. As things turned out, your decision was a wise one. I probably would have lost the whole army by making the men take a stand. I am sorry for doubting you.”

“You followed my orders,” smiled Cardijja. “I ask no more of any man. My decisions will not always be right, but I will always do what I think is best for the majority of the men. That jungle was a trap designed just for us. We are fortunate to have survived it with half of our men. It was meant to destroy us totally. Do not underestimate these Fakarans. What we were told on Motanga was nothing more than lies to boost our morale. I would have preferred the truth.”