Chapter 45
Battle of Duranga
The unicorn glided out of the setting sun and set down on the streets of Duranga, a deserted village on the Coastal Highway between Miram and Tagaret. The commander of the fighting forces of the Castle of Man dismounted, and a Red Sword pointed towards the nearby inn. Lieutenant Montbalm nodded silently and walked towards the inn. He opened the door and stepped into the common room. Standing just inside the door, he paused to let his eyes adjust to the dimly lit room. He smiled as he saw Alexander Tork, and he bowed to the king and queen.
“Welcome,” greeted King Arik. “Have the men of Tor arrived?”
“We are camped one league north of the Federation encampment,” Lieutenant Montbalm replied as he crossed the room and glanced at the map spread out on the table. “I camped to the north so that the Federation didn’t see one-thousand unicorns flying over their camp.”
“A wise precaution,” the king responded with a slight smile, “but I intend for them to see your men. Send your fairy back with instructions for your men to form a column in the air. The column is to circle over the enemy encampment high enough to avoid arrows and then return to their camp. If they can circle more than once to give the appearance of more troops, do so, but do not let the enemy know that we are trying to trick them.”
Lieutenant Montbalm frowned. “You want my men to intentionally alert the enemy to our presence?”
“I do.” The king nodded. “I want them to know that any escape to the north will be met by the men of Tor and their flying unicorns. Send the fairy and then I will explain our plan.”
The lieutenant nodded and stirred Tiny to life. He gave the fairy instructions and sent him on his way before returning his attention to the map.
“Are we to attack then?” he asked.
“Tonight,” replied King Arik. “The men of Tor will be responsible for blocking a northward evacuation. I do not want your men to charge into battle. In fact, I want them to primarily use their bows. Do not engage in close combat because the enemy would easily overrun you. If you have to give ground, do so, but make them pay dearly for each pace they take northward. Instruct the unicorns to maintain distance from the enemy, and they will position as necessary. In addition, Theos will be joining your group.” The king paused to wave the Tyronian mage forward. “If the enemy starts to surge towards you, Theos will make them think twice about their tactics. Work closely with him.”
“Are we not trying to gain their surrender then?” asked the heir from the Castle of Man.
“I truly prefer their surrender,” replied the king, “but we are out of time. Team Mya is marching on Tagaret.”
“The men of Tor will hold the line,” vowed Lieutenant Montbalm. “You can depend on us.”
“I know,” King Arik smiled before turning to Alex. “Alex, you and Jenneva will have the western flank. You will have the Alcean Rangers with you. I will not presume to tell you how to fight, but I do not want the Federation slipping away from us.”
Alex nodded silently, and Jenneva gave her husband a suspicious glance. It was unlike Alex to remain quiet during a strategy briefing, and he had not said a word yet.
“Queen Tanya and I will be driving the main thrust up from the south,” the king continued. “David and the Red Swords will be with us.”
“That leaves the east open,” stated Mitar Vidson.
“It does,” agreed the king, “but there is nothing to the east but the sea.”
“The enemy could turn north or south at the coast,” frowned David Jaynes, “and we have no reserve forces to stop them. Your plan is committing every man to battle.”
“I will stop those who reach the coast from turning north or south,” offered Balamor. “Illusions can be powerful deterrents even at night.”
“Excellent,” replied the king.
“Do you really expect to defeat the enemy with this raid?” asked Theos. “The enemy outnumbers us four-to-one. You cannot expect to defeat them all and leave this place with any of your armies intact. Who will you send against Team Mya?”
“I do not seek to kill twenty-thousand men this night,” answered King Arik, “but I will acknowledge that this battle will be costly for our side as well as theirs. We either defeat Team Miram tonight, or we fall back to Tagaret and face forty-thousand men at our walls.”
“The Alceans who will be fighting tonight,” added Queen Tanya, “are among the finest fighters in the world. They will give a good accounting of themselves.”
“Here here!” exclaimed David Jaynes. “The Zarans will rue the day they stepped through those portals.”
Jenneva glanced at Alex again and wondered why he was not speaking up. She frowned and shook her head before returning her gaze to the king.
“Are we looking for confusion among the enemy?” she asked. “Is that why you are staging this fight at night?”
“Confusion?” echoed the king. “I am looking for total chaos, and I expect my mages to help create it. Before the attack begins, I want you and Tanya to create fear and chaos in the enemy ranks. Once you have sufficiently stirred the hornets’ nest, we will push into the camp from the south.”
“What is your objective?” asked Alex.
“To put the Sword of Heavens to the throat of General Bledsoe and demand his surrender,” King Arik answered without hesitation.
Alex smiled and nodded in appreciation of the plan. “That is a worthy goal. Just make sure that a good deal of Zaran blood has already stained the ground before you get to his tent, otherwise he will not yield.”
The king nodded in understanding and continued the briefing until everyone knew their part in the battle. As the sun began to set over Duranga, the meeting broke up and everyone headed for their groups. As they left the inn, Jenneva pulled Alex aside.
“You were unusually quiet in there today. Is something bothering you?”
“There was no need for me to speak,” Alex replied.
Jenneva chuckled. “That has never stopped you before. Why so quiet?”
Alex sighed and gazed into his wife’s eyes. “You still think of Arik as the boy we found in Largo so many years ago, but that memory no longer reflects who he has become. Arik is one of the finest commanders I have ever known, and it does no one any good for me to constantly infringe on his rightful place. His plan is sound and is much like what I would have planned had it been up to me. Give him space to become who he will become, Jenneva. He is the Warrior King.”
Jenneva’s brow creased sharply. “I agree with your words, husband, but I suspect there is something deeper bothering you. Have you had any dreams lately? Have you seen your own death this night?”
“My life will not be led by dreams,” scoffed Alex. “There is nothing deeper in my meaning than the words I just uttered. Let’s go and get ready for the attack.”
* * * *
Sergeant Dilney frowned as he watched the other squad of soldiers from the 17th Corps of Spino approaching the western perimeter of the camp. He called his own squad to attention and prepared to hand off the guard detail to the new arrivals before returning his gaze to the approaching soldiers. The replacement squad moved sluggishly, and their sergeant did not seem to notice or care. He made eye contact with his replacement before speaking softly.
“It has been quiet so far,” Sergeant Dilney reported, “but I would remind your men that we are in hostile territory. They need to stay alert.”
“My men can handle perimeter duty,” scowled the other squad leader. “They need no reminding.”
Sergeant Dilney shrugged and called for his men to form up. His squad members quickly formed a column, and Sergeant Dilney marched them away from the western perimeter. He led them to the squad’s area of the camp and dismissed them. As his men settled in for the evening meal, the sergeant turned and walked away. He wandered through the encampment until he saw Colonel Shellard, assistant to General Kozinski. He caught the colonel’s eye and waved for his attention. The colonel nodded in acknowledgement and the two men met halfway.
“I have a concern about the men, Colonel,” Sergeant Dilney said cautiously, “but I do not wish to bring the matter to the attention of General Kozinski. May I speak to you about it?”
The colonel hesitated, but he eventually nodded silently.
“Many of the men are taking our situation too casually,” declared the sergeant, “particularly in regards to sentry duty. My squad was just replaced on the western perimeter by a squad that wouldn’t see a dragon approaching until it ate them. The sad part is that such a squad is not an exception in the 17th Corps right now. The men have grown complacent, Colonel. They act as if we are back in Valdo protecting a supply depot, as if they can’t wait until their duty is up so they can visit the nearest tavern. They need to be reminded that we are in enemy territory.”
Before the colonel could reply, the ground trembled. The eyes of both men widened in alarm as the trembling grew more intense. Small debris began falling from the trees and tents began to collapse. The sergeant and the colonel instinctively reached out for each other to steady themselves as men walking through the camp stumbled and fell. As the trembling intensified, a roaring wind began to blow through the camp. The wind whipped up walls of dirt which blasted everything in its path. Tents were ripped from the ground and sent flying away. Sparks from the campfires shot through the air, burning holes in the tents and searing the flesh of anyone unfortunate enough to be caught downwind.
“This is magic,” hissed Colonel Shellard. “I bet an attack will soon follow. Run to the western perimeter and replace that incompetent sergeant. Take over his squad and prepare them to repel attackers. I will need a runner, so send their sergeant to me. I will be in General Kozinski’s tent.”
Sergeant Dilney broke away from the colonel and raced towards the western perimeter. Waves of dirt blackened the already darkening dusk, but the sergeant had a good sense of direction. He ran blindly through the camp, quickly picking himself up each time the moving ground tripped him. He felt numerous stings from flying sparks, but he ignored them. All around him, the soldiers were panicking. The dirt-filled air was saturated with shouts of alarm and cries of pain. He ignored them as well.
As Sergeant Dilney approached the western perimeter, the wind seemed to die down, and the trembling of the ground lessened. He halted his mad rush by grabbing onto a tree and stared in confusion at the sight before him. At first all he saw were the sentries of the western perimeter stretched out on the ground, but then arrows streaked out of the trees and other soldiers fell. With no squad for him to command, Sergeant Dilney quickly moved behind the tree and peered around it. Cries of pain ripped through the air as hundreds of arrows flew into the camp.
Several captains shouted orders in an attempt to organize a defense of the camp. They ordered their companies to form shield walls and prepare to assault the forest with waves of arrows, but the enemy gave them no time to organize. Another volley of arrows from the forest was followed by a mounted charge. Sergeant Dilney watched with rapt fascination as black-clad warriors surged out of the trees and attacked the Spinoan soldiers. The sergeant’s eyes were quickly drawn to one imposing warrior with long golden hair tied in a tail. The Alcean moved like a specter through the Spinoan ranks, his long two-handed sword drawing blood with each swing and back swing. Sergeant Dilney shuddered as the Alceans advanced, cutting down everything in their path. He turned and ran towards the center of the camp.
When Sergeant Dilney reached the center of the camp, he found both command tents collapsed in tatters. Pandemonium reigned as officers shouted orders, and runners ran off to carry messages to distant companies. The sergeant saw Colonel Shellard and ran to him, but he halted wordlessly upon arrival. The colonel was dispatching troops to reinforce the camp’s defenders, and the sergeant thought someone else had already delivered the bad news. He realized his error when the southern perimeter was mentioned as the location of the attack.
“Colonel,” the sergeant said loudly with an urgent tone. “The southern perimeter is not the only attack. The western perimeter is being overrun by Alceans.”
The colonel turned with alarm on his face. “How many attackers?”
“Hundreds,” answered the sergeant, “maybe thousands. I did not stay to take count of them, but they are cutting their way into the camp without much opposition. Hundreds of our men were struck down in the initial volley, and the Alceans charged before a defensive shield could be formed. The barrier didn’t even slow them down.”
The colonel did not answer immediately. When he eventually spoke, Sergeant Dilney thought his voice was amazingly calm considering the situation.
“Sergeant,” ordered Colonel Shellard, “I want you to personally check the northern and eastern perimeters. Carry word back to me if we are under attack from those quarters as well. If we are not, inform the perimeter guards to expect an attack at any moment.”
“Just the northern perimeter and hurry,” countermanded General Kozinski as he joined the conversation. “There is nothing but sea to the east of us.”
“There is enough forest to conceal a rather large army,” countered the colonel.
“The Alceans don’t have enough men to cover all four sides,” retorted the general. “I would be surprised to even find any enemy to our north, but I want to be sure. Besides, General Bledsoe’s men are camped in the southern and eastern sectors of the camp. We need to concern ourselves with the west and the north. Hurry along, Sergeant.”
The sergeant saluted and turned to race northward, but he heard the general’s next words before he was out of range.
“Recall our troops, Colonel,” said the general. “I want our men dispatched to reinforce the western perimeter. General Bledsoe will have to use just the 7th Corps to defend the south.”
Sergeant Dilney ran hard, thankful that the trembling ground and roaring wind had ceased. Without having to suffer the effects of the magical attack, the sergeant was able to weave his way through the camp without delay. As he ran northward, he could hear the sounds of fighting off to his left. He frowned heavily because the fighting sounded much too close. The perimeter was a fair distance away, and he doubted that the black-clad warriors could have penetrated so deeply into the camp in such a short time. He wondered if there was another attack force that the general was not aware of.
As the sergeant approached the northern perimeter, he saw thousands of Federation soldiers streaming from the southwest. Several companies of soldiers stood blocking the northern perimeter facing south. Shouted voices started to reach the sergeant’s ears, and he frowned in confusion.
“They are not human,” shouted one of the soldiers. “You cannot fight against something that will not die.”
“Get back to your assigned positions, or you will die right here,” retorted a colonel. “I will not say it again. My next words will be for my men to fire arrows into the lot of you. Move!”
The complaining soldiers turned and moved off, but their pace was hesitant. Sergeant Dilney made for the perimeter barricade, and the soldiers before him drew their swords and converged on him. The colonel who had just rebuked the others turned towards Dilney with contempt clearly on his face.
“I cannot stomach cowards,” the colonel scowled. “Hang him as an example to the others.”
Sergeant Dilney shouted in horror as he realized that the colonel was talking about him. “Wait! I was sent by General Kozinski to check the northern perimeter. Have you all gone mad?”
“I know you,” scowled the colonel. “Your squad has sentry duty on the western perimeter.”
“It did until just recently,” admitted Sergeant Dilney, “but their time is over. I went to Colonel Shellard to report the attack in the west and General Kozinski sent me up here to see if you were also under attack. What is going on?”
The colonel hesitated and then waved away the sword-bearing guards. “Your brethren at the western perimeter are fleeing the battle like the cowards they are. They think they can flee into the woods to the north. They are afraid of fighting spirits.”
“We are not being attacked by spirits,” replied the sergeant. “I saw the black-clad men. They are warriors of supreme quality, but they are men just like you and me. I take it that the northern perimeter is free of the enemy?”
“No,” answered the colonel. “I have already dispatched a runner to General Kozinski. You must have passed him on the way here.”
Sergeant Dilney turned and gazed across the barricade. It was already too dark to see very far, but he thought he could make out several bodies stretched out on the road.
“What is out there?” he asked.
“I do not know,” answered the colonel. “Some of the cowards got over the barricade before I spread my men out. I gave the order to cut them down, but it was unnecessary. The Alceans did it for us.”
“General Kozinski needs to know what we are facing,” stated the sergeant.
The colonel nodded. “I have been waiting for the order to check it out.” The colonel waved for a captain to come to him. “I want your company to find out what the enemy has out there. Do not engage the Alceans. Just determine their number and return. Be careful. With everything else going on today they are likely to attack without warning.”
The captain saluted and ran off to gather his men. Moments later one-hundred mounted Federation soldiers stood ready to journey out of the encampment. Sergeant Dilney listened as the captain addressed his men.
“I want one squad to move quietly through the trees east of the road,” instructed the captain. “Another squad will do the same on the west side of the road. The rest of us will give you a head start and then come up the road at a gallop. As soon as we make contact, we will turn and retreat. We do not plan to dally long so pay attention. Keep your eyes sharp to see who attacks us. I want estimates of their strength. Once you have that estimate, quietly retreat through the forest. Questions?”
There were no questions and men moved the barricade to allow the cavalry to pass through. Two squads exited the camp and immediately moved off the road and into the trees. The other three squads sat in the middle of the road and waited. When the captain thought enough time had passed, he simply brought his arm up and pointed northward. Three squads of Federation cavalry raced northward along the Coastal Highway. Sergeant Dilney stood next to the colonel and watched them disappear into the darkness. Moments later, the sounds of loud explosions ripped through the air. Cries, shouts, and screams of anguish split the night. Suddenly, the road north of the camp glowed fiery red and flames shot up into the air. Just as suddenly, the area returned to darkness, and the battlefield fell silent. The sentries manning the barricade glanced nervously at one another, wondering if they should keep the barricade open or close it. They looked to the colonel for an answer, but the colonel stood still, staring northward. For several tense moments, no one moved or spoke. Then, through the eerie silence, a single horse’s hooves sounded on the road. Soldiers readied their bows and nocked arrows, waiting for the order to fire, but no order was given.
As the horse came closer, the red uniform of a Federation soldier could be seen. The men manning the barricade uttered muffled gasps before Sergeant Dilney could understand what was coming into the camp. A moment later, he understood. A lone soldier rode his horse through the barricade at a walk. His uniform was shredded and bloody, and he had three arrows sticking out of his chest. One side of the horse bled profusely, thousands of small wooden splinters sticking out of its flesh. The soldier’s mouth moved, but the voice was so soft that the sergeant could not hear the words. He ran to get closer, but he was too late. Both horse and rider fell to the ground, dead.
“What did he say?” the sergeant asked the sentries.
“Just four words,” answered one sentry. “Archers, unicorns, mages, thousands.”
“Close the barricade,” the colonel ordered loudly before turning to the sergeant and whispering, “Carry his words to General Kozinski, and be quick about it. If such a force decides to attack, we will have trouble keeping the men from turning tail.”
The sergeant nodded silently and started running southward. Keeping in mind the encroaching Alcean black-clad warriors to the west, he curved eastward as he raced towards the center of the encampment. He was halfway between the northern perimeter and the center of the camp when he came across one of his own men. The man was running from the eastern perimeter, and Sergeant Dilney altered course to head the man off. He halted in front of the running soldier and demanded that he stop.
“What are you doing in the east?” scowled the sergeant. “Why aren’t you fighting the Alceans in the west?”
“No one is fighting the Alceans in the west,” answered the soldier. “They all fled. I had no choice but to follow. I thought maybe we were ordered to a larger attack in the east, but that was not the case. The first to flee must have overpowered the eastern perimeter guards and tried to escape, but only death awaits us that way.”
“What are you talking about?” the sergeant asked angrily.
“Dragons,” the man answered with a tremor in his voice. “Scores of them have gathered by the sea. I would rather die to an arrow than in the jaws of those monsters.”
“You will die by hanging if you don’t gather the rest of our squad and fight the Alceans coming through our sector,” snapped the sergeant. “I have to report to General Kozinski, but I will be heading to the west as soon as I am done. If you are not there before me, you had better already be dead.”
Sergeant Dilney did not wait for a response. He turned and continued his run towards the center of the camp. When he arrived, he found the general in the midst of total chaos. He quickly explained what had transpired in the north, adding in the fact that men from the west were fleeing from the attackers. He then mentioned what his own man had told him of the east. The general shook his head and sighed heavily.
“Colonel,” the general said to Colonel Shellard who had been standing close enough to hear the report, “I want our command center moved northwest. We need to be closer to the action. Send out runners to tell every regiment commander that they are to gain control over their men and report to me at the new command center. We are gathering in force to present a proper defense.”
“We are abandoning the barricades?” the colonel asked with a frown.
“Blast the barricades, Colonel. Did you not hear this man’s report? We are losing control over our army. Plant a flag one-thousand paces northwest of here and call it the command center. I want the entire 17th Corps to gather there and present a solid circle of shields to the enemy. The Alceans do not have enough men to beat us unless they can scare our men senseless. I will not allow that to happen.”