13 Day War (54 page)

The minutes dragged by as the birds circled around several times before flying over the steep canyon. Suddenly, the birds all gathered together, and Steffen knew that the bodies had been sighted. The birds were wary, very wary. For several long minutes the flock circled high while two birds dropped lower, inviting an attack. Nothing happened. Another pair of birds left the flock and dropped even lower, moving along the steep walls of the canyon, inspecting any ledges that might be used for archers. Steffen smiled. While there were ledges along the canyon walls that would have made excellent perches, his men were not on them. They were concealed in the narrowest and darkest crevices of the canyon walls. The hiding spots chosen would impair each Ranger’s field of vision, but birds did not hover as fairies did. They would have to keep moving, causing them to pass more than one archer. Once the flock was lured into the canyon, there would be no escape for them.

For over ten minutes the birds proceeded cautiously, pairs of them dropping ever farther into the chasm, daring a hidden archer to take a shot at them. None did. Eventually, two of the birds landed on the floor of the canyon. That was the signal to attack because the Rangers dared not let the black-cloaks transform into human shape. Arrows flew out of crevices on both sides of the canyon, and birds started dropping to the ground. Steffen, holding the highest position of all the Rangers, only managed to kill one bird, but there were still two birds out of the twelve that had not entered the trap. Steffen saw them circling above and took aim, but the range was too great. Feeling safe from the threat of archers, the two birds continued to circle. Steffen knew what was going through their minds. A single battle mage could destroy all of the Rangers hidden in the canyon, and the black-cloaks were trying to decide how to approach the problem. They had to land somewhere to transform into their human form, but once they transformed, they had to return to the canyon to do battle. Their problem was that there was no decent landing spot close by, meaning they would have to climb around in the mountains to strike back and that would give the hidden archers time to flee. It was a difficult decision for the battle mages to make, but Steffen smiled broadly knowing that the decision would never be made.

While the two birds were still circling, a dragon appeared in the sky. The birds did not notice the dragon at first, and that cost one of the birds its life. Kinelli grabbed one of the birds in her talons and crushed it as she gave chase to the other bird. The dragon and the bird passed out of Steffen’s view, and the Ranger called out for a count of his men and a count of the birds killed. His men were all alive and ten of the birds had been killed. Kinelli got the eleventh bird and was chasing the twelfth. That still left one black-cloak unaccounted for, and Steffen did not care for loose ends.

High in the sky over the canyon, the thirteenth bird had watched everything. Baku had seen the Rangers destroying his men, and he had seen the dragon giving chase to the lone survivor. Wishing not to be seen by the dragon, Baku moved off in the opposite direction and landed in a wooded valley. There he spent the rest of the day until nightfall arrived. As soon as it was dark, he resumed his bird form and took to the sky. He flew all night and all day until he arrived at General Ross’s camp. Exhausted from the flight, all he really wanted to do was sleep, but he entered the large command tent to make his report. General Ross looked up in surprise.

“You are back sooner than expected,” the general said with a sense of unease. “What is wrong?”

“We have problems,” sighed the black-cloak. “My men stumbled into a trap yesterday. They are all dead.”

“Are you sure?” gasped the general.

“I watched them die,” snapped the battle mage, letting his exhaustion get the better of him. “I am sorry. I am tired, but that is no reason to be rude. I have traveled all night and all day from the Boulder Mountains to get here. Yes, they are all dead. There are humans in this land. I would estimate only about a dozen, but they are highly skilled warriors, and their purpose for being here seems to be to eliminate your battle mages. They have been killing my men by shooting them while they were in bird form. We found the bodies of the last two men who never returned.”

Baku opened his mouth to continue, but the general raised a hand to interrupt him. “I am not being critical as I know nothing about being a mage, but I am curious why you have returned. Couldn’t a man of your power destroy a dozen warriors with ease?”

“Indeed,” Baku nodded, “but it gets worse. There is also a dragon in this world.”

“A dragon?” gasped the general. “Are you serious?”

“Very serious,” frowned the black-cloak. “It is a huge creature and as vicious as any stories I ever heard about dragons. Its talons grabbed the last two of my men. Only I escaped. It is not safe to fly with such a beast around.”

“Could this dragon be working with the warriors?” asked the general.

“I do not know,” admitted the black-cloak. “I have been wondering about that for the entire flight here. It is either working with the warriors, or its timing was incredibly fortuitous for our enemies. The archers were unable to kill the last two men, but the dragon appeared before my mages were able to respond to the attack.” Baku sighed and shook his head. “There is something else about the dragon’s behavior that puzzles me. It did not devour my men. It merely crushed the life out of them with its talons and then discarded the bodies. It was not hunting for food.”

“I do not believe in coincidences,” stated General Ross. “I have to plan as if I have a dragon for an enemy. Get some sleep. We will talk more about this tomorrow.”

General Pryblick and Colonel Dukirk rode side-by-side through the swamp, heading back the way they had come the day before. The general was in a foul mood, and the colonel was receiving the brunt of his rage.

“The men are at the point of mutiny,” berated the general, “and I can hardly blame them. They were stung and bitten the entire night, and most of them were afraid to even relieve themselves after the black-cloaks died. The tale of being eaten alive by those giant reptiles ran through the camp faster than the winds from a summer storm. This swamp is worse than the pits of hell, Colonel, and you are responsible for leading us into it. Give me one reason why you should not be stripped of your rank?”

“I was only doing the task assigned to me, General,” replied the colonel. “We could not proceed up the Coastal Highway. Even you agree with that. The bridge was out. How was I to know that the road through the swamp was flooded out?”

“You went on ahead of the column, Colonel,” scowled the general. “Did you not think to look beyond the area of the encampment?”

“I did go beyond it,” sighed the colonel, “but it was too late in the day to turn the column around. Look at the land around us, General. Where could we set up camp here? There is barely enough solid ground here to hold the road. At least back where we camped there was enough dry ground for the soldiers to settle down for the night. We could not do that on this road.”

“That was my decision to make, Colonel, not yours. Now we have lost two days. It will be impossible to reach Tagaret on schedule unless I march these men day and night. How effective do you think these men will be when the battle for Tagaret begins, Colonel?”

“All hope is not lost, General,” frowned the colonel. “Perhaps the answer to our dilemma resides in Danver Shores. The locals might know of a shorter route to Tagaret, and they may have horses that we can seize to transport the men faster, or perhaps even boats to ferry the men up the coast to make up for lost time.”

The colonel started sweating, and it was not entirely due to the heat and humidity of the swamp. He had not reported that all of the mage deaths were not natural. He had been afraid to, but the last mage had been found in his tent, not on the banks of the channels. He sighed nervously. If he lost his rank, the colonel would be in for a rough time with the troops he used to command. They would relish the chance to exact revenge against him for slights imagined or real. He decided to gamble everything.

“All is not lost yet, General. I will find a way to get us to Tagaret on time. Have faith in me, and I will make this problem go away.”

Less than a league ahead of the Federation column, the King of the Gypsies stood where the two bridges had been removed the night before. Moth landed on Adan’s shoulder and reported the progress of the column. The gypsy nodded in acknowledgement as he watched the men under his command rush the preparations. He gazed at the long, horseshoe-shaped barricade that surrounded the bridge area and the catapults that had been dragged into position. Three-hundred men of the Melbin Guards were putting the finishing touches on the barricades and placing bundles of arrows at each position. The gypsy king nodded in appreciation.

“We will be ready for them, Moth,” the gypsy said. “Do you need to rest, or would you like to return to the sky to keep watch over the enemy?”

“I will keep watch on them,” the chubby fairy replied enthusiastically. “If they do not agree to your terms, I could deliver a myric quill to the general. Maybe his successor would be more agreeable.”

Adan laughed at the feisty fairy. The tale of Moth’s courageous attack had spread through the gypsy camp, and many of the gypsies were praising the little man’s courage. “We will see how General Pryblick reacts soon enough, Moth, but I will keep your offer in mind. Would you like a boost?”

“No,” the fairy responded. “I need the practice if I am to become a gypsy.”

Moth flapped his wings and grunted, but he could not take off from a still position. With a sigh of resignation, he ran along Adan’s shoulder and threw himself off. Adan smiled as he noticed that the stout fairy did not fall quite as far as usual before darting upward. The gypsy walked away from the bridge approach and walked to the barricade where one of the Melbin Guards was supervising the construction.

“We have less than an hour, Lomar,” stated Adan. “Maybe less if they decide to send cavalry on ahead to hold the bridges. Will we be ready?”

“We are just about done,” answered Lomar. “I am having the boats brought forward now. What about your wagons?”

“They are ready,” assured the gypsy, “but I will not bring them into view until I get a surrender from General Pryblick. Keep the boats out of view as well. Perhaps you can hide them behind the barricade until we need them.”

“Done,” agreed Lomar. “Do you think they will attack us?”

“They would be fools to do so,” Adan answered after a moment’s thought, “but they just might. I intend to inform the general of his precarious position, but the Federation generals are pretty used to getting their own way. If it comes to a fight, I will pull in the gypsies meant to escort the wagons. That will add a thousand men to our side.”

“Thirteen-hundred against twenty-thousand,” sighed Lomar. “Those are long odds for us.”

“Not really,” smiled Adan. “They cannot line up twenty-thousand men on that small spit of land, but we can line up thirteen hundred behind this barricade. They cannot possibly win, and I intend to convince them of that.”

Lomar nodded and Adan walked away. The gypsy king moved away from the river to the staging area for the gypsy wagons that would be transporting the prisoners to the camps set up between Danver Shores and Melbin. Five-hundred gaily-painted gypsy wagons had been stripped inside to make room for the prisoners. The wagon drivers and the escorting warriors sat around in a makeshift camp doing what gypsies do best. They were trading stories and reciting tall tales, but there were no casks of ale this day. Adan had decreed that there would be no drinking until the victory celebration when all of the prisoners were in their prison camps. Adan stayed only long enough to inform Rax about the timing of the enemy’s approach and left it to her to spread the word. As he made his way back towards the river, Moth landed on his shoulder in a controlled crash.

“Riders are coming up quick,” reported the fairy. “There are thousands of them, and the general is among them.”

Adan nodded as he pondered the reason for the sudden change of pace. He half expected a squad to arrive early to secure the bridges, but thousands of riders indicated something entirely different. The only thing he could think of was that the Federation had thought of a way to get to Tagaret that Adan had not considered.

“I think they have had enough of the stinging flies and mosquitoes,” commented Moth. “They are especially bad this morning. The whole column is trying to swat the things and walk at the same time. It is rather funny to watch.”

Adan chuckled and picked up the pace. He hurried to the bridge area and waited for the enemy to arrive.

Only minutes away from the river, General Pryblick frowned as the vanguard slowed to a halt. He looked at Colonel Dukirk beside him and nodded towards the vanguard.

“Go see what the problem is,” demanded the general.

The colonel nodded and rode forward. When he reached the lead riders, he did not have to ask why they had stopped. He gazed at the fortifications on the other side of the river and swallowed hard. Seeing the lack of bridges across the river, Colonel Dukirk immediately knew that the Alceans had tricked them into the swamp. He shook his head with fear as he pondered how the general would take the news. With anxious resignation, the colonel turned his horse and rode back to the general.

“I think you need to go forward and see this for yourself,” the colonel reported cryptically. “My words would do the situation no justice.”

“Don’t play games with me, Colonel,” snapped General Pryblick. “I am not in the mood for it. Why have we stopped?”

“We have stopped, General,” answered the colonel, “because we cannot proceed. The bridges have vanished.”

“Nonsense,” spat the general as he guided his horse out of the column. “We will talk about this later, Dukirk, but you will not enjoy what I have to say.”

General Pryblick rode to the front of the column and gaped at the sight before him. At first he could not believe what he was seeing. The bridges were gone and the fortifications were new. They had not been there the day before when they had entered the swamp. He was sure of that. He gazed at the catapults aimed towards him and shook his head. Eventually, his eyes focused on the lone man standing at the far edge of the river. He frowned in confusion. The man wore no uniform. In fact, he was dressed garishly for a fighting man, yet there he stood, obviously waiting to speak to someone. General Pryblick rode forward and the column followed him. The general halted right at the edge of the river and stared at the man across from him.