Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

The Sakovan assassin did not have long to wait. A brilliant flash of lightning crackled overhead, bringing the brilliance of daylight into the dark of night. The flash only lasted for a second and then was gone, the blackness returning to rule the night, but HawkShadow closed his eyes, the image of the briefly illuminated sentry burned into his retinas. He raised his bow and fired at the false image. He tried to listen for the scream of his enemy, but the thunder made that impossible. The assassin knew that even the closest sentry to the victim would not hear the scream through nature’s din. HawkShadow waited for the next flash of lightning to confirm his kill before moving further along the perimeter of the Motangan encampment.

After his sixth confirmed kill, the Sakovan assassin broke away from the perimeter and headed deeper into the woods. StarWind and Goral saw him coming and met him before he was far into the clearing.

“How did it go?” asked StarWind.

“As it should have,” smiled HawkShadow. “All six are confirmed kills. Send in Goral’s people.”

“So we shall,” nodded the Sakovan spymaster. “Where do you want my people? Should I stay and protect Goral’s retreat?”

“Move onward,” interjected Goral. “Let us not waste time tonight. This storm will not last forever.”

“Goral is right,” nodded HawkShadow. “This storm is perfect cover for what we intend to do. Move your people to the opposite side of the encampment. That is where I will take out the next six sentries. Goral, when you disengage, take your people halfway around to the right. I will hurry there when I am done with StarWind’s sentries.”

“We will be there,” promised the Sakovan giant as he withdrew from the impromptu meeting.

Goral strode over to his waiting warriors, two-dozen Sakovan marauders hand-picked for the dangerous assignment. Goral nodded silently to his people who promptly mounted their chokas.

“Remember that this is only a raid,” Goral cautioned softly. “Keep an eye on me at all times. When I start to disengage, abandon the battle as soon as you can do so safely. I will linger near the perimeter to aid anyone caught in the thick of it. The rest of you continue into the forest. Understood?”

A chorus of nods and murmurs of agreement rippled through the warriors. Goral mounted Bertha and led the small group out of the clearing. They moved with little regard to noise as the chokas were fairly silent beasts, and thunder still rolled through the night air. As they approached the perimeter where HawkShadow had eliminated the sentries, Goral slowed and signaled his warriors to stop. The giant rode slowly forward until he could see the encampment during the lightning flashes. He smiled in appreciation of the assassin’s skills. Pulling a huge maul from its holder, Goral raised the maul high overhead and pointed towards the encampment. His warriors pulled their weapons and nodded to their leader.

Goral nudged Bertha, and the large warbird raced towards the enemy. The giant looked briefly over his shoulder to make sure that his warriors were following and then concentrated on the Motangan encampment. He smiled briefly as he raced past the bodies of the sentries, but the distraction was only momentary. His eyes used the flashes of lightning to memorize the placement of the nearest Motangan tents. The encampment was devoid of pedestrians as the deluge continued to rain down out of the angry clouds.

Goral held the large maul out with one hand as he approached the first tent. He smashed the supports of the tent as he rode by, his eyes already fixed on a tent deeper in the encampment. He smashed the supports of two more tents while guiding Bertha towards his target, which was at the limit of the depth of the planned incursion. The choka unflinchingly used her sharp claws to tear through the fabric of the chosen tent. Momentarily out of the rain, Goral grinned broadly as he entered the tent occupied by eight Motangan soldiers. Bertha immediately tore into the flesh of a sleeping Motangan, bringing hysterical screams from her victim. The other soldiers awoke and tried to scramble to their feet, but Goral’s maul was already in action.

Goral and Bertha worked as a finely honed team. While she tore into soldiers on one side of the tent, Goral’s maul hammered away at those on the other side. Within seconds the tent was devoid of Motangan life. Goral urged Bertha through the torn fabric and immediately aimed for another tent. After the Sakovan giant and his warbird had destroyed three tents and their inhabitants, he heard an alarm shouted between claps of thunder. It was time to withdraw. He whistled loudly and headed towards the perimeter. Hesitating at the edge of the encampment, Goral counted his fleeing warriors. When the last of his people had passed by, Goral tapped Bertha into a gallop and raced after his warriors. He heard the sounds of bowstrings snapping during the lull between thunderclaps, but nothing came close to him.

Goral passed his men, ordering them to follow him. They rode hard until they reached the area where HawkShadow would find them. Goral ordered his team to dismount and held a quick meeting to assess the damage to the enemy. Over six hundred Motangans had died in the brief fight, and not a single Sakovan had been injured. Goral grinned broadly and congratulated his warriors. He bowed his head in prayer and prayed that StarWind’s team was having equal success on the other side of the Motangan encampment.

* * *

“The elves are attacking Teramar and Eldamar,” Xavo said as he tried to catch his breath from running all the way to the beach from the temple.

“Escapees?” asked Lady Mystic.

“No,” Xavo shook his head. “It is an invasion from Elvangar. “Estimates from both cities put the elves at one thousand for each city.”

“But the garrisons in each of those cities are at least three thousand strong,” frowned Lady Mystic. “The elves will be slaughtered.”

“That is not what is being reported,” Xavo shook his head. “It sounds as if Teramar and Eldamar have already fallen. The attack caught the Motangans sleeping in the barracks. The elves also managed to get into the temple undetected. In each case only the lone surviving mage sent the message.”

“What about Sudamar?” asked Lady Mystic. “Is that also under attack?”

“We don’t know,” replied Xavo. “There was no answer when the mages tried to reach Sudamar. The generals suspect that it might have also fallen. They are in a panic. They expect an attack here in Vandamar at any moment.”

“Bah,” snorted Lady Mystic. “There are thirty thousand troops in this city. Three thousand elves will not attempt such a thing.”

“The generals think a much larger force is heading this way,” replied Xavo. “They have sent out scout ships towards Elvangar with mages aboard.”

“They know where Elvangar is?” frowned Lady Mystic. “Why was I not informed?”

“They don’t actually know where it is,” replied Xavo, “but it is known to be to the east. That is why the southeastern city is named Eldamar. It was the port nearest the elves.”

“What should we do?” worried Lady Mystic. “We shouldn’t let the elves stumble into a trap. They probably have no idea how many soldiers are here in Vandamar.”

“I thought we should tell Emperor Marak what we know,” shrugged Xavo. “I am no battle-hardened general, but I am willing to do whatever I can to help the elves, although I doubt that I can make much of a difference.”

“You underestimate yourself,” grinned Lady Mystic. “As Vand’s disciple, you are the most senior person left in Vandamar. You can override the generals’ plans and cause great havoc.”

“I may technically be the most senior person here,” frowned Xavo, “but that is not what Vand meant to have happen. I was supposed to go with him to Fakara. I doubt that the generals will listen to me. Vand has probably already told them that I am not to be trusted once he realized that I missed the boat.”