13 Day War (74 page)

Colonel Shellard saluted and mounted his horse. He rode a short distance to where his company commanders were waiting and explained their orders. With a shouted order to the shield wall, the defensive ring opened to allow the colonel and his men to leave. Colonel Shellard’s regiment was already down to half-strength from the fight with the Alcean Rangers, and he did not cherish the thought of riding through the woods with the Rangers unaccounted for. He led his men onto the Coastal Highway that split the camp in two and headed north. Well before he reached the northern perimeter, Colonel Shellard knew that trouble was brewing. A fiery glow in the distance lit the night, and soon the sounds of shouting reached his ears. He drew his sword.

“Prepare for battle!” he called to his men.

As the colonel drew nearer the barricade, he frowned in confusion. The flames he had seen from a distance were coming from the burning barricade, but the enemy was not attacking, unless you could call a lone mage standing in the middle of the road and sending sheets of fire into the wooden barricade an attack. The shouts of alarm came from the defenders of the perimeter as their arrows failed to harm the mage and their efforts to extinguish the flames were met with more flames. The colonel sheathed his sword, and his men followed his example.

“Rally to General Kozinski,” Colonel Shellard called out to the defenders. “The barricade is to be abandoned. Let it burn.”

The defenders seemed relieved to see the colonel’s column approaching, but their looks soon turned to horror. Surging out of the trees along the western side of the road, Alceans Rangers tore into the column without mercy. Colonel Shellard cursed loudly. The burning barricade had been a distraction that the Alceans used to get into position, and his carelessness had allowed it.

“Rally to me!” he shouted to the defenders of the barricade. “Rally to me!”

The companies manning the barricade responded immediately, knowing that the enemy outside the camp could not join the battle because of the very fires their mage had started. They drew their swords and raced towards the colonel.

“Shield wall across the road!” shouted Colonel Shellard as the barricade defenders drew near. “Riders retreat behind it!”

His commands were the standard Federation response to such an ambush. While the infantry maintained an impenetrable wall of shields, the cavalry would regroup behind it and then try to outflank the enemy. It had been a very effective tactic in the Federation wars, but such was not the case in the Battle of Duranga. As soon as the barricade defenders had left their posts, the men of Tor flew their unicorns over the burning barricade. Their bows unleashed a deadly hail of arrows into the back of the shield wall. Colonel Shellard gasped loudly as he saw his plan disintegrate before his eyes. The shield wall was destroyed from behind while the Rangers crushed his regiment. In a desperate attempt to take some of the Alceans with him on his way to the grave, Colonel Shellard issued a war cry and charged for the man with the long blond tail. Only then did he notice the woman riding behind the black specter. Her hand rose and pointed directly at the colonel. An icy blue ball appeared in her hand and it flew towards him.

Colonel Shellard felt a deep chill invade his body as the blue orb hit him. He thought he had been about to die, but he did not die. He could not move, ice encrusting his entire body and that of his horse, but he could still see and hear. In fact, he could not even close his eyes to the horrors going on around him. He was forced to watch as the Alcean Rangers destroyed the remnants of his regiment. As silence fell over the battlefield, the Rangers moved past him towards the shield wall, leaving the frozen colonel to stare at nothing but the bodies of his slain men. Desperately wanting to know what his fate would be, the colonel listened intently to the soft sounds of talking some distance behind him.

“What a waste,” a deep male voice said softly. “If only they had surrendered when they had the opportunity. None of these young men would have died.”

“They were given the choice, Alex,” said a woman’s voice. “What is our next move?”

“We force General Kozinski to surrender, Jenneva,” Alex answered. “He has all of his remaining men gathered in one place, and they have no mages to stop us. I hope that he sees the wisdom in surrender, or we will be forced to kill thousands more.”

Colonel Shellard could not believe what he was hearing. He had heard stories of Alex and Jenneva during his visit to Tagaret last fall, but those stories made the famous couple seem too potent to be real. He had thought that they were mythical characters meant to idealize the Alcean wars. The colonel wondered if the shivers racing through his body was from the knowledge of who Team Miram was fighting, or if it was an effect of the ice surrounding him.

“General Bledsoe has kept three regiments in reserve,” warned Jenneva. “While I can guarantee the annihilation of the 17
^th
Corps, I can not do so if those reserves come to the aid of General Kozinski. Shouldn’t we eliminate those reserves first?”

“Those reserves are from the 7
^th
Corps of Barouk,” replied Alex. “They will not come to the aid of Spinoans. Trust me on this, Jenneva. They will not leave Bledsoe’s side. What do we do with the frozen colonel?”

“Leave him,” answered Jenneva. “He will remain frozen until morning. We will accept his surrender then.”

Alex and Jenneva walked away as they uttered those final words. They mounted their unicorns and led their army southward.

“How long will he really remain frozen?” Alex asked when they were well away from the frozen colonel.

“Not long,” answered Jenneva. “I warmed the horse’s legs so they will move, and Yorra instructed the horse to make its way towards the burning barricade. The heat from the fires will thaw the colonel. Are you sure that he will go directly to General Bledsoe?”

“He has little choice,” replied Alex. “He would not dare to follow us to Kozinski’s shield wall. Not after what he saw happen to his own regiment. Nor will he surrender before General Kozinski. His only option is to get Bledsoe to send the reserves north.”

“He could flee,” posed Jenneva.

Alex shook his head. “Sheri is a good judge of character, and she met him in Tagaret last fall. Shellard is no coward, and he is not a deserter. Clint also said that he was extremely loyal to Kozinski. The colonel will not flee. He will go to Bledsoe and demand the reserves.”

“Then we need to get Kozinski to surrender quickly,” stated Jenneva. “We truly can’t afford to be caught between the 17
^th
Corps and the reserves from the 7
^th
Corps.”

“That will be up to you mages,” Alex said. “I sent Bitsy to gather Balamor in case you need him.”

“Excellent,” Jenneva replied with a smile. “He has the power to cast a physical shield large enough to cover thousands of men. That will give Theos and me free reign to convince General Kozinski to surrender.”

“You intend to surround our entire army with a physical shield?” scoffed Alex. “Is that even possible?”

“Oh, it is quite possible, Alex,” grinned Jenneva, “but Balamor will not be putting a physical shield around us. He will be putting it around the 17
^th
Corps of Spino.”

Sergeant Dilney was tired. His squad’s sentry duty had ended only moments before the Battle of Duranga had begun, and he should have spent the past few hours sleeping rather than running around the huge encampment dodging Alcean warriors to report the battlefield progress to Colonel Shellard. The Federation sergeant was also nervous. The remnants of the 17
^th
Corps of Spino were gathered in a huge circular shield wall, waiting in the dark for Colonel Shellard’s regiment to return with the companies guarding the northern perimeter. That regiment was long overdue, and Sergeant Dilney had a sinking feeling that they were never coming back.

The sergeant was not alone in his feelings. An aura of gloom pervaded the shield wall of the 17
^th
Corps, and the soldiers fidgeted nervously as their eyes strained to detect anything moving in the dark. Most of the remaining soldiers of the 17
^th
Corps had had at least a glancing introduction to the night-fighting prowess of the Alcean Rangers, and while the shield wall gave them some measure of comfort, none of them were anxious to resume the fight before the sun rose to illuminate the forest. Many of them wished that the sun would hurry up and arrive. Moments later, they cursed that wish.

Unexpectedly, a brilliant flash of light illuminated the forest as it streamed skyward like a falling star in reverse. The flash briefly illuminated thousands of Alcean warriors in a ring around the shield wall, and each man sat upon the back of a horned unicorn. Hundreds of arrows immediately soared outward from the shield wall, but each arrow unexplainably halted and dropped to the ground as if it had hit an invisible wall. The rising star reached its zenith directly over the circle of Federation soldiers, and defying gravity, hung there illuminating the entire 17
^th
Corps. Some soldiers raised their eyes to look at it, but the light was too intense. They quickly lowered their eyes, blinking to restore their vision.

Sergeant Dilney was not so foolish as to stare at the blinding light. His eyes scanned the Alcean ring to measure the strength of the enemy, but they stopped when he saw the same golden-haired warrior that he had seen at the western perimeter. The sergeant had a gut feeling that he was looking at the leader of the Rangers, a feeling that was strengthen by the three odd people surrounding him. Two red-headed men and one woman sat on unicorns near the golden-haired warrior, and none of them carried a weapon. Sergeant Dilney found himself drawn towards them and did not realize that he was actually walking until he bumped into General Kozinski who was also heading towards the area of the shield wall opposite the four unique Alceans. The sergeant quickly apologized to the general, but Kozinski did not even acknowledge him. The general was staring intently at the Alceans.

“Your men will cease wasting their arrows,” the golden-haired warrior demanded in a loud booming voice. “I am Alexander Tork, General Kozinski, and I have come to demand your surrender.”

General Kozinski did not respond immediately. He turned in a slow circle gazing upon the enemy surrounding him. Eventually, he returned to face Alexander Tork.

“You are bold, Tork,” stated the Spinoan general, “but no army can breech a Federation shield wall once it is properly situated. You seem to have more men than we had anticipated, but not enough to demand our surrender. I suggest you take your flag of truce and depart. I will not yield to you.”

Sergeant Dilney shuddered as the golden-haired warrior actually smiled at the general’s words.

“There is no flag of truce here, General,” Alex retorted. “Let me explain the situation to you. Your men are not only surrounded by Alcean Rangers, they are also trapped inside a magic shield. That shield will prohibit the movement of anything physical through it. That is why your arrows failed to escape your circle. You cannot harm us, and you cannot leave. You are trapped until you surrender.”

“We have no intention of leaving,” countered the general. “This is a Federation shield wall. It is meant to stand against our foes, and stand it will. If your words are true about this magical barrier, then you have managed to outsmart yourself. If we can’t leave, neither can you attack us. We merely have to wait for the 7
^th
Corps to arrive to break this deadlock.”

“Deadlock?” echoed Alex. “You truly do not understand. We are seeking your surrender to avoid killing all of you, but you are too stubborn to understand that. You seem to think that everyone should kneel before the all-mighty Federation, but it is time for you to learn the truth. Allow me to introduce you to one of the Tyronians whose country you recently savaged. I do not think you will enjoy his form of welcome. Theos, explain to General Kozinski what it means not to surrender.”

“Gladly,” replied one of the red-haired men.

Sergeant Dilney cringed as the Tyronian raised a hand and pointed it at the shield wall to the left of General Kozinski. Flames shot from the Tyronian’s hand and passed through the invisible shield. An entire squad burst into flames. Sergeant Dilney watched in horror as the men screamed and tried to put out the flames. Some of the men ran into the clear area behind the shield wall where others tried to extinguish the flames. Those were the lucky ones. Others tried to run the other way, and they ran headlong into the invisible shield, falling to the ground and screaming as the flames took their lives. None of the other soldiers were willing to leave the shield wall to go forward to help their stricken comrades.

“Our mages have no problem with sending spells through the magical wall,” stated Alex. “It only affects physical objects. So you see, General, there is no deadlock here. You will surrender, or you will die.”

“Before you stubbornly respond,” the woman said quickly, “think of your men, General Kozinski. If you surrender, they will be fed and cared for until their eventual return to Spino. King Arik truly does not wish to kill them. Do not let your stubbornness deprive them of a return to their homes and families.”

The words had been said to the general, but immediate murmurs broke out throughout the shield wall. The general frowned as he turned and looked at his soldiers. Each man he focused on immediately averted his eyes when the general looked at him. Kozinski sighed. He could almost feel the aura of defeat hanging over his army. Still, the 7
^th
Corps was only a couple of thousand paces away. Surely he could figure out a way to stall until help arrived. As he surveyed his army, a small whirlwind appeared in the center of the circle of soldiers. The whirlwind started to grow in strength and size, and the general whirled around to glare at the Tyronian mage, but it was the woman whose arm was extended towards the Spinoans.

“You seem to have trouble making up your mind, General,” she said, her voice loud and clear to the entire 17
^th
Corps. “I will help you come to a decision. Any man who wishes to surrender may do so by throwing his weapons into the whirlwind. We will not harm anyone who does so. Those who keep their weapons will die before dawn.”