Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

The bulk of the soldiers trampled the vegetation at the edge of the jungle as they tried to find places to bed down for the night. Occasionally curses rang out as men were pricked by sharp-leaved plants, or stumbled into a nest of swarming bugs, but as the sky darkened with the coming night, the camp started to settle down peacefully. Little did the Motangans realize that the serenity of the jungle that they had sought as protection from the tribesmen was little more than an illusion of tranquility.

* * *

Far from the edge of the jungle, the foragers delighted in the variety of fruit and berries. They stuffed their mouths as they filled sacks to carry back to the camp for others to enjoy. So intent were they at harvesting the edibles that they failed to hear the soft clicks of the approaching tyriks. One of the tyriks seized a Motangan soldier in its mandibles. His scream of horror and pain tore through the air. The other soldiers in the group spun to see what the problem was. Mouths and eyes widened in terror as they stared at the huge spider. Sacks fell to the ground abandoned, and fruit fell from their hands.

Several of the soldiers drew their swords and moved cautiously forward to help their comrades, but most of the soldiers turned and ran for their lives. They ran without regard of paths, their screams trailing behind them. Some of them rushed into murky bogs that sucked them downward with every movement and struggle. Others ran blindly into huge webs, unable to free themselves or do anything other than shout for help and curse.

Within moments of the appearance of the first tyrik, screams ripped through the jungle from one side of the encampment to the other. The soldiers in the camp who had been bedding down for an early night of rest rose quickly. They stared into the darkness of the jungle and wondered what was happening to their comrades.

Premer Cardijja exited his tent, which sat in a section of the jungle that had been cleared for it. He gazed at the soldiers and listened to the distant screams. Recognizing that his entire army was frozen with fear, he moved quickly to tackle the situation. He strode purposefully towards the nearest tents and commanded the attention of the officers there.

“Get together a group of a thousand men,” ordered the premer. “Take them deeper into the jungle to discover what is happening to the foragers. Report back to me immediately when you find out what is going on.”

Premer Cardijja did not wait for a response from the officer. He turned and walked back towards his tent. Only then did he turn around to make sure that his orders were being carried out. As he watched the officer rally the group of unwilling explorers, General Luggar arrived at the tent.

“Do you know what is going?” asked Luggar.

“I just ordered a thousand men to find out,” replied Cardijja. “The men cannot take another night of sleeplessness.”

“I have ordered sentries for the jungle perimeter,” stated General Luggar. “I had thought that we would not need them tonight.”

“It can’t be another Fakaran attack,” the premer sighed in frustration. “The tribesmen would never give up the element of surprise by attacking a few hundred foragers.”

“Could it be kruls?” asked the general. “They do inhabit the jungles on Motanga.”

“Kruls are not natural beings,” Cardijja shook his head in disgust. “They are animals given human qualities by Vand’s mages. They are despicable creatures, but they do not exist outside of Motanga.”

“I noticed that none were attached to our army,” commented Luggar. “Is there a reason for that?”

“A very good one,” replied the premer. “Neither Shamal nor I would have them in our armies. We convinced Tzargo that the Sakova was the appropriate place for their use. Doralin got stuck with them all, and as we now know, they did little to help his cause.”

The screams finally stopped, and the jungle grew disturbingly silent. For a long time the camp remained staring into the jungle, but eventually some of the soldiers began to return to their sleeping mats. Slowly, the encampment began to return to normal, and Cardijja sighed with relief. The silence barely lasted half an hour. Screams once again filled the air, and the soldiers were quick to get to their feet and draw their swords. Cardijja cursed under his breath.

“This cannot continue,” scowled the premer. “I will not allow my men to be terrorized.”

“There is little that you can do,” soothed General Luggar. “You can order the men to retire, but you cannot make them fall asleep. Perhaps we should move out of the jungle?”

“Onto the open plains?” balked the premer. “How can you suggest such a thing after last night?”

“At least the Fakarans are an enemy that we can fight,” shrugged the general. “What is in this jungle cannot even be identified.”

“We will identify it,” retorted the premer. “As soon as those thousand men return, we will know what we are up against. All I want is one good night’s sleep for my men, and we will march through this jungle killing everything in it.”

General Luggar did not reply that he thought that sleep was not going to be had by anyone. Instead he remained quiet and waited for the screaming to stop. The screams did start to diminish, and eventually they stopped completely. Premer Cardijja waited for another half an hour for the patrol to return, but no one appeared.

“They are not returning,” General Luggar finally said softly.

“Inconceivable,” snapped the premer. “Who can kill a thousand armed men without showing themselves?”

“I do not mean to disagree with you,” sighed the general, “but there has been ample time for one of those thousand men to report back here.”

“Then I shall send out two thousand,” snarled the premer. “I will know what my army is up against.”

“Make it five thousand,” suggested General Luggar.

“Five thousand men for a patrol?” balked the premer.

“Whatever attacked the last patrol did so without even one of the men returning to us,” justified the general. “With each patrol we send out, we subject the men to another hour of sleeplessness. Send out five thousand, and get the job done.”

“Then we can all sleep,” Cardijja nodded in reluctant agreement. “See to it.”

General Luggar left the premer and delivered Cardijja’s orders to another general. The chosen general was not happy with the task, but Luggar knew that he would obey. Luggar returned to the premer and reported his actions.

“You never did like him, did you?” asked the premer, referring to the chosen general.

“Not ever,” smiled General Luggar. “He has always been a pompous bore. While I hope that his men survive the patrol, his loss would be welcome.”

“Do not get your hopes up,” chuckled the premer. “He will undoubtedly keep well behind his men. In fact, he will be the first one to return.”

An hour passed by as the general and the premer waited for word from the patrol. Many of the men in the camp cheered when the large column left to investigate, and most of them were now asleep. When the screams finally came it was an irritating sound to the premer. He was quickly losing the feeling of terror, and instead was becoming angry at the mystery of the attacks. Rallying shouts mixed in with the screams, and Cardijja nodded in satisfaction.

“Finally,” stated the premer. “Our men are fighting back whoever is trying to scare us.”

No sooner had the premer spoken then the rallying shouts ended. Only the screams remained, and they eventually tapered off to silence again. Cardijja cursed loudly and went storming towards the perimeter bordering the jungle. General Luggar ran after him.

“Where are you going?” shouted the general. “What are you doing?”