Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

“Why continue the attack?” asked the general. “We will just be throwing soldiers to the Khadorans. Why not halt the attack and save the men until we are ready?”

“The Khadorans will not let us halt the attack,” answered the premer. “If our men stop entering the clearing, the Khadoran cavalry will attack. If we allow that to happen, we will never get any siege engines built.”

“But our men can defend the road while the catapults are built,” countered General Chen.

“Our men will not be able to move out of the way of the attacking horsemen,” retorted the premer. “This roadway is much too narrow. If our men clear off the road and into the surrounding forests, they will leave the road open to the Khadoran cavalry. Do you want to face their horsemen back here in the middle of the column?”

“No,” agreed General Chen. “I see the wisdom in your orders, but perhaps there is a way around this berm.”

“Perhaps,” nodded the premer, “but I am not hopeful for such a solution. Ask yourself why the Khadorans have chosen to make a stand along this road instead of retreating to Chantise as we expected them to.”

“Because there is no way around it,” conceded the general. “If they have planned their defense so well, then might not we expect them to foil your plan for siege engines?”

“An excellent thought,” agreed the premer. “That is what is puzzling me. Are they just trying to slow down our march on Chantise? Or is there something more sinister in the works?”

“What could they do other than slow us down?” questioned the general.

“We are already slowed down,” replied the general as he gazed upward at the dragon. “This column is almost at a halt and that worries me. Our maps of Khadora are fairly good, and I cannot imagine the advantage of choosing this road to defend unless the Khadorans are sure that we will not decide to cross the Khadoran River. Have we sent scouts towards the river?”

“They went out early this morning,” nodded the general. “There is no one hiding out there waiting to attack our flank. The Three Sisters cover our other flank. No Khadoran horsemen are going to cross those peaks.”

“Then we should expect an attack from our rear,” stated the premer.

“What makes you say that?” asked the general. “The Khadoran armies are all ahead of us.”

“Not all of them,” argued the premer. “Do not forget the frontier clans.”

“Those clans are not something to fear,” balked the general. “All put together, the frontier clans can hardly make up one tenth of our size. Such an attack would be suicidal, and the Khadorans value life far too much for that kind of offensive.”

“You are right,” sighed Shamal, “but my gut tells me that we are missing something. The Khadorans have been full of surprises since this war began. I cannot help feeling that we are falling into another trap.”

“I will send out more scouts,” offered General Chen. “That will ease your worries. I think the Khadorans are just buying time to create a better defense of Chantise.”

“Perhaps,” mused the premer, “but send out the scouts regardless of your beliefs.”

The Torak knew what the new scouts would discover. He could not afford to allow that to happen. Raising his arm high, Marak cast a spell. A projectile of light shot from his fingertips and rose upward. The ball of light streaked towards the heavens and exploded in a frenzy of light. Long golden streaks flew out in every direction and plummeted slowly towards the ground. It was a sight that could be easily viewed hundreds of leagues away. Shamal and Chen immediately looked up at the dragon.

“My gut feeling is overriding your assurances that this is only a delaying tactic,” snapped Premer Shamal. “Get those scouts out now.”

The elves had been following the Motangan column in Khadora. They had kept off the road and had moved silently through the forest. When the sky was illuminated by the Torak’s spell, King Avalar used an air tunnel to instruct his warriors. The elves moved quickly northward, their first targets being the supply wagons at the end of the column. The drivers and escorts were killed and the driverless wagons were used to block the roadway.

Shouts arose from the column ahead of the wagons as the Motangans became aware of the new threat from behind. Some of the Motangans tried to press forward, but the whole column was barely moving. There was little room for the soldiers to move forward. Other Motangans turned to attack the elves. Two groups of elves moved forward. One group led by King Avalar moved through the forests along the east side of the roadway while the other group was led by Princess Alastasia and took the west side of the road. Together they moved forward as one army.

The Motangans were no match for the elven archers. Most of them died before they ever saw an elf. Within minutes the Motangans were panicking. They began to shout and push forward even though there was no room for them on the road. They fled into the forest on both sides of the road and ran towards the north to escape their unseen enemy. As King Avalar and his daughter pushed onward, the rear of the Motangan column fled in full rout. The elves followed as quickly as they could nock arrows.

* * *

The Chula were spread out in a long line flanking the right-hand side of the center of the Motangan column. When the Torak’s signal was seen, they moved silently forward. No orders were necessary as each Chula tribe was led by the leader of the tribe, and each tribe acted independently. Spears flew into the unsuspecting Motangans, and light blades decimated the foreigners. The Motangans could neither advance nor retreat along the clogged roadway. Many of them stood to fight, but more fled into the forest west of the roadway. Their reprieve from battle was short-lived, and their retreat turned deadly. The armies of the frontier clans occupied the left-hand flank of the Motangans, and the Khadorans moved forward to engage the center of the column. Within an hour of fierce fighting, the center of the Motangan column ceased to exist.

The Chula split into two groups. One group advanced along the flank towards the berm while the other advanced towards the elves. The frontier clans did likewise, and soon the Motangan column was being squeezed into two distinct columns, each caught between two armies. The Torak watched the battle from the sky as Myka circled over Premer Shamal. He maintained an air tunnel to listen in on the premer’s conversations.

“We are being attacked from the rear,” reported an officer. Our supplies are gone, and the elves are advancing at a furious pace.”

“Elves?” balked Premer Shamal. “That is preposterous. Who told you this?”

“A mage told me,” replied the officer. “He said he received a message from the rear. I thought you should know.”

“There are no elves in Khadora,” interjected General Chen. “The mage must have misunderstood the message.”

A black cloak suddenly appeared alongside the premer. “It is true,” he insisted. “I also received the message. I do not know where the elves came from, but he would not have been specific if he was not sure.”

“Contact him again,” ordered Shamal. “I want to be positive that elves are attacking us.”

“He no longer answers the call,” frowned the mage. “In fact, I cannot contact anyone back there.”

“Then go back there yourself,” snapped he premer. “I want information.”

“There is more,” frowned the mage. “Our column is being attacked in the center. We are under attack from both flanks.”

“By elves again?” scowled the premer.

“No,” the mage shook his head. “There are no reports of elves on our flanks, but there are many mages among the enemy. Our losses are high.”