Richard Tuttle - Army of the Dead

“I intend to find out what is happening if I have to lead a patrol myself,” snapped Cardijja.

“You can’t!” shouted the general.

Premer Cardijja ignored his friend and headed for the perimeter. When he reached the perimeter, one of the sentries shouted and pointed. Cardijja immediately stopped and stared into the jungle as General Luggar came up alongside him. They both stared in amazement as Motangan soldiers came stumbling out of the jungle and into the encampment. The premer shouted for them to report, but they either did not hear him, or they chose to ignore him. Each of the men stumbled along clumsily, their eyes wide open and staring blankly.

“They are in shock,” frowned General Luggar. “I have never seen anything like it before.”

One of the soldiers tripped and fell. Instead of getting up and following the others, he just stayed on the ground and began babbling. The sentries around the man stared uncomprehendingly, but Premer Cardijja walked over and grabbed the man by his arms. He pulled the soldier to his feet and then slapped his face hard. The soldier blinked in confusion. Cardijja felt the man’s limbs trembling. He slapped the man again.

“Tell me what you saw out there?” demanded the premer. “Tell me.”

The soldier stared at the premer for a moment before a glimmer of recognition showed in his eyes.

“Spiders,” the soldiers said haltingly.

“More insects,” scowled the premer. “Do Motangan soldiers now run from insects?”

“Not insects,” quivered the soldier as he almost fell over. “Spiders. Bigger than a house.”

Premer Cardijja stared in disbelief, but General Luggar rushed over to help support the crazed soldier.

“What did the spiders do?” asked the general.

“They eat people,” swallowed the soldier as he began to sound more lucid. “We found hundreds of men wrapped up in their webs. It was when we tried to free them that the spiders struck. They trapped us.”

“How did they trap you?” asked Premer Cardijja.

“They built webs between us and the camp,” answered the soldier.

“How did you manage to return?” asked General Luggar. “Did you cut through the web.”

“No,” the soldier shook his head. “You cannot cut through the web. Someone found a way out and the rest of us tried to follow. We had to crawl under a fallen tree, but the spiders noticed us escaping. They came after us. They want to eat us.”

“Have this man taken to my tent,” Premer Cardijja ordered General Luggar. “We need to hear more of this tale. Get a healer to join us there.”

Premer Cardijja stopped pacing around the inside of his tent and turned to face the soldier that had been interrogated. The soldier looked haggard, his eyes deep in their sockets and his hair matted down with perspiration, but not as bad as he had before the healers got to him. The soldier looked up expectantly at the premer.

“You may go now,” the premer said softly. “Do not discuss your trip into the jungle with anyone.”

The soldier rose from the ground and bowed to the premer as he backed towards the tent flap. In a moment he was gone, and Cardijja shook his head as he pondered the information that had been gleaned from the soldier. Several minutes later the flap ruffled as General Luggar hurried inside.

“We have a problem,” the general informed Cardijja. “Only several hundred men managed to return from the jungle, but they are quickly spreading the word about the giant spiders. If we don’t act immediately, the men will start to desert.”

“I was suspecting as much,” frowned the premer, “although I had hoped that we could contain it.”

“What will you do?” asked the general.

“I will do what I must to preserve my men,” answered the premer. “You are to instruct the sentries to kill any man trying to leave the jungle. I also want the leader of the mages, Cymelange, sent to my tent immediately.”

“Do you think the mages can help?” questioned Luggar.

“They must be able to do something,” nodded Cardijja. “We have no other choice. The men need a night’s sleep, and they will not get it on the plains. These spider creatures must be vulnerable to something. Let the mages figure out what it is.”

General Luggar nodded and retreated from the tent. A few minutes later a black-cloaked mage entered, his eyes darting suspiciously around the interior of the tent. Cardijja did not care much for the mages, but he found the mage leader particularly distasteful. The black-cloak had never even had the decency to hide his contempt for the soldiers.

“You sent for me?” asked Cymelange.

“I did,” Cardijja nodded informally. “You are to gather your mages and kill the huge spiders. I want the task completed immediately.”

“It is much wiser to attack them in the morning,” balked the mage. “We have never encountered such beasts before, and we may need time to develop the proper strategy to defeat them.”

“This cannot wait for the morning,” snapped Premer Cardijja. “My men must get some sleep.”

“Mages are not like your soldiers,” retorted the black-cloak. “We do not just charge into the jungle and kill things. We will study the creatures first. Perhaps we will try a spell or two to see what affects them the most, but that will be impossible if we cannot see them.”

“Then illuminate the jungle,” countered the premer. “Do not tell me that your mages are not capable of such things. I have seen it done before.”

“And everyone around for leagues will know where we are,” argued Cymelange. “Such a display will surely call the horsemen down upon us.”

“I am not concerned about the horsemen while we are inside the jungle,” snapped Cardijja. “Let them come and attack us. In fact, I would welcome that right now. It would take the minds of my men off of the jungle. In case you hadn’t noticed, the men are on the verge of hysteria. They have not had sleep in days, and word of the spiders has soared through the camp like a contagious disease. By morning there will be no camp if the spiders are not destroyed now.”

“It is your task to control your men,” scowled the mage. “Why should I endanger my mages to make your task easier?”

“There are a number of reasons,” the premer said threateningly, “but the most important one is that your mages are surrounded by two hundred thousand of my men, and they don’t care much for mages. I will not dictate how you use your magic to kill the spiders, but I do demand that you accomplish it tonight.”

“You are threatening me?” balked Cymelange. “Do you know what my men could do to yours?”

“I am quite well versed in your skills and tactics,” Cardijja replied steadily. “I also know that without my men to protect your mages, none of you will survive this trip into Fakara. Your mages will be immediately evicted from this encampment as soon as this meeting is over. You may lead them into battle against the spiders, or you can set up your own camp in the jungle. Either way I will have your mages between my men and the spiders. If you decide to attack us, you will have enemies on both sides of you. The choice is yours.”

“You wouldn’t dare?” gasped the mage.

“I can, and I will,” asserted the premer as he marched to the tent flap.

He held the flap back as he shouted orders to the men outside. The orders were to escort the mages to the eastern perimeter of the camp after calling the camp to alert. Cardijja turned and glared at the mage when he was done.

“My decision has been made,” Cardijja said softly. “Now go and make yours.”

Cymelange spat on the ground as he stormed out of the tent. He snarled at the soldiers grabbing their weapons as he stomped towards the mage area of the encampment. By the time he reached the mage area, most of the black-cloaks were gathered in a large knot. Their voices were raised as they argued about how to react to the growing knot of soldiers gathering nearby. There was an air of concern and confusion, and all of the mages looked towards the leader as he approached. He slowed his pace as he tried to think about his approach to the situation. As much as he detested Cardijja and wanted to repay the premer for his actions, he was more concerned about the survival of his mages. He decided to act positively towards the assignment.