Richard Tuttle - 13 Day War

They all moved back and Jenneva cast the spell. A large chunk of the tree exploded outward in a flurry of wooden splinters, but the rest of the trunk remained unscathed. For a moment it looked to the mages as if the spell had failed to achieve their goal, but then the tree groaned loudly and leaned towards the west. They watched in amazement as the large tree crashed to the ground, landing squarely in the center of the road with its uppermost branches facing the west.

“Excellent!” grinned Alex. “I will mark all of the trees I need felled. If the three of you can work together to share the work, we will be done in no time.”

“Why here?” Theos asked with a puzzled expression. “I thought the battle was to be fought in the meadow, and we are over half a league east of that.”

“The 2 ndCorps has already lost its cavalry,” explained Alex. “If we account for the loss of their horses and the riders who rode them, this place will mark the location of the vanguard when the tail exits the meadow. The initial attack should occur here. The men will try to rush back into the meadow, but I want them greatly bloodied before that happens. If Prince Garong can accommodate the plan, his elves will be lining both sides of the road between here and the meadow. The Rangers and the Men of Tor will then attack the rear of the column.”

“A devastating attack if you can pull it off,” replied Theos, “but won’t they recognize the ambush for what it is?”

“I hope not,” answered Alex. “We are pressing our luck by pushing the Rangers and the Men of Tor into another battle so soon after last night. As good as they are, no warrior can fight indefinitely without rest. As for recognizing the ambush, there are no warriors alive who are more silent than the elves. I am confident that their presence will not be detected.”

“But the abatis,” frowned Theos. “It will be seen a mile away.”

“Not if Balamor can hide it,” Alex replied with a glance at the mage from Pog.

The illusionist merely nodded.

* * * *

Captain Plaggor was one of the few remaining cavalrymen of the 2 ndCorps of the Empire of Barouk. He had narrowly survived the elven ambush that had destroyed the army’s cavalry, and he was not eager to face such an event again. Perhaps because of his harrowing experience, he rode tensely, his eyes constantly scanning the sides of the road, and his ears listening intently to the sounds of the forest. He relaxed somewhat while the column crossed the great meadow called Watling Flats because he could see for a great distance in all directions, but when the trees once again closed in on the road at the eastern edge of the meadow, he grew very anxious.

About a mile from the meadow, a sudden shiver raced down the captain’s spine. He nervously stared into the forest on both sides of the road, but he saw nothing. He also heard nothing, and that lack of sounds worried the captain. He immediately thought of mentioning his concern to Colonel Tamora, but he did not get along well with the colonel, and he did not want to be belittled and called a coward. He hesitated to take action. Moments later, the column halted. The captain rose in his stirrups and gazed forward. His eyes opened wide when he saw the huge abatis stretched across the road. The captain knew what was about to happen.

Captain Plaggor pulled out of the column and turned his horse around. He had just started towards the rear of the column when the shouting began in the vanguard. The captain did not hesitate. He whipped his horse hard and sunk down in the saddle, but the shouts still gained on him, and he heard bow snaps sing out right behind him. Racing along the right side of the road, the captain eased his body to the left, using the body of the horse as a shield against the attackers on the closest side of the road. The first wave of arrows passed him by and the captain watched in horror as the column before him was attacked.

The 2 ndCorps was marching along the broad road in six files, and the first wave of arrows decimated the outer files. The men in the center of the road reacted in confusion and panic. Some of the men thought to charge into the woods, hoping to slay their attackers. Others knelt and brought their shields up to create a shield wall, but many of the men merely sought a path of escape. Captain Plaggor continued racing back towards the meadow, but his path was now strewn with bodies and soldiers looking for cover. Men dove out of the way of the horse when they saw it coming, but not all of the soldiers saw the horse. The captain winced as the horse collided with a running soldier and then tripped over a body. A moment later, an arrow plunged into the neck of the horse, and it screamed in agony. The horse went down, and the captain was thrown into a crowd of soldiers. Hitting the ground probably saved the captain from death during the second wave of arrows, but he gave it no thought. He rose as quickly as he could and ran along with the other soldiers who were now racing towards the meadow.

Captain Plaggor never thought he would live to make it to the meadow, but miraculously he did. The infantrymen around him began assembling a shield wall facing east, and as the Federation soldiers continued to pour into the meadow, they joined it. Eventually, no more soldiers came to add to the shield wall. The survivors waited nervously for their attackers to emerge from the woods so they could take revenge for the ambush, but nothing happened. The soldiers of the shield wall began to fidget nervously, wondering what they were supposed to do now. There was no enemy to kill in the meadow, but no one was willing to reenter the forested section of the road. So they knelt and waited.

Suddenly, there was distant movement on the road, and whispered warnings of a coming attack ran through the line of men. Everyone concentrated on the road as whatever was on it came closer at a very fast pace. Within seconds the object began to take shape and gasps of fear rippled through the line. A dragon soared over the road, and on its back sat a man dressed in shining white armor, its golden trim glistening in the sunlight. He held a long, two-handed sword in one hand, but he did not use it as the dragon soared over the shield wall and into the meadow. The soldiers turned to follow the dragon and gasped anew. Up in the sky were thousands of warriors riding on the backs of flying unicorns. The unicorns separated into two flying columns and both of them set down on the meadow to form a large semicircular barrier around the Federation shield wall, blocking any path of escape except the road they had just retreated from. The dragon turned and came close to the shield wall, close enough to see the man’s lips move. The voice when it came was clear and obviously magnified by magic.

“I am King Arik of Alcea,” declared the man on the dragon. “You have violated my borders and I demand your surrender. There is no flag of truce, nor will I accept one. You are to throw down your weapons immediately and walk into the center of the meadow. Failure to do so will result in your immediate death.”

The dragon shot up into the air, and a second one came into view. It held a woman dressed similarly to the king. The men of the shield wall gawked at the flying creatures, but no one threw down his weapon. It was as if no one wanted to be the first to surrender. Even the captain hesitated, and he was more than ready to surrender. As he gazed at the beautiful woman on the dragon, he saw her face darken with anger. Her arm rose and suddenly the sky lit up with lightning. A bolt of lightning slammed into the ground near the center of the shield wall, and the reaction was immediate. The Federation soldiers raced towards the center of the meadow, throwing aside their swords, shields, and bows as they ran. Not a single soldier remained in the shield wall to challenge the King of Alcea.