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Authors: Troy Denning

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BOOK: The Parched Sea
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“When we make no effort to utilize the tunnel and our attacks on the breaches begin to threaten the fortress, the

Zhentarim will have to decide whether to use the men guarding the tunnel to reinforce the walls, or to leave them in place to guard against an attack that might or might not come;” Utaiba expounded, speaking as eagerly as Sa’ar.

If they leave the tunnel guards in place, then there will be fewer men fighting at the walls, and that is good. But if they move the guards to the wan-“

“Then it will be better. We will send the last two tribes down the tunnel to attack from inside Orofin,” Sa’ar declared. “They will be caught between the anvil and the hammer, as you-er, Lander-would say:”

Ruha considered the plan for several moments, then nodded. “I like it;’ she said. “But everything depends on how well we can press the attack against the breaches. I assume that is where you plan to use my magic?”

“It is the most dangerous place-“

“I have faced danger before, Utaiba;’ Ruha replied curtly. “Or have you forgotten?”

“We haven’t forgotten;’ Sa’ar said. “But with your magic, we thought you might be more useful attacking from inside Orofin:’

“If the attack on the breaches goes poorly, then nobody will attack from inside the fortress;’ Ruha countered. “There is a more important consideration, though. If the warriors are to fight with all their spirit and not worry about bad omens, they must see Lander in the vanguard.”

Utaiba nodded thoughtfully. “And so must the Zhentarim;” he agreed. “Otherwise, they’ll worry about where the Harper is, and then they won’t abandon the tunnel.”

Sa’ar regarded the pair for several moments, then finally nodded his accord. “If that is what you think-best, then it is decided. Let us go outside and prepare the warriors:’

 

Nineteen

 

The Bedine were ready to attack. At’ar had just shown her flaxen orb above the horizon, and the goddess’s amber light was creeping across the saffron desert. Orofin was surrounded by a dozen tribes,

i each clustered tightly about its sheikh and waiting two hundred and fifty yards from the fortress’s dark walls. Most of the warriors were mounted on their camels, waiting directly in front of the breach they had been assigned to attack.

Two of the tribes were not mounted, however. The khowwans of Utaiba and Didaji waited behind the other tribes on opposite sides of the fortress, their warriors standing next to their camels with impatient expressions on their faces. These two tribes were being held in reserve. They would not join the battle until the Zhentarim began to crumble. Only then would they charge the weak spot. The invaders would either have to respond by drawing their own reserves away from the secret tunnel, or risk having the Bedine punch a hole in their

defenses. It was a nuance of the plan that the sheikhs had not originally explained to Ruha, but one of which she thoroughly approved.

Sa’ar and his tribe, along with the Bai Kabor and their sheikh, were hiding near the tunnel mouth where the Zhentarim could not see them: They would not move from their hiding places until Sa’ar’s observers reported that both Utaiba and Didaji had lead their tribes into battle.

Atop a small hill overlooking Orofin’s fortifications, Ruha sat on her camel next to Yatagan, the toothless sheikh of the Shremala. With them was Utaiba, for his Raz’hadi were standing in reserve behind the Shremala. When the fighting started, Ruha would stay with Utaiba and the Raz’hadi. In their final pre-battle conference, the sheikhs had all agreed that it would be wiser to see what surprises the Zhentarim had for them before committing their witch to battle.

Ruha was shivering, for she was dressed only in Lander’s aba and keffiyeh. Fearing that there would be no chance to remove a jellaba after the battle began, the widow had elected to endure the early morning chill in dress that would be appropriate for later in the day. Utaiba, however, sat huddled deep within his heavy jellaba, and Yatagan wore one of the heavy night furs of his tribe over both shoulders. The toothless sheikh was holding his camel’s reins taut to keep the spirited beast from capering.

In contrast to those around her, Ruha felt eerily calm. She had no idea whether she or any of the Bedine would live to see dusk. Still, she was not afraid and felt no apprehension about what lay ahead. It seemed as if someone else were riding the Harper’s mount, preparing to join the charge that would result in a thousand deaths.

Yatagan leaned toward Ruha, then motioned at an empty camel behind her. “Unless the witch sees some reason to wait, I will signal the others to start the attack:’

Yatagan did not really believe that Ruha was sitting invisible on the empty mount. Like the other sheikhs, he knew that the witch had taken Lander’s face in order to keep the men from learning of the Harper’s death. He was simply playing out his part of a little charade Utaiba had proposed.

Realizing that the warriors would wonder where the witch was, the wiry sheikh had suggested that Ruha lead an empty camel behind hers. Yatagan would pretend that the widow was invisible, and Ruha-Lander would explain that the witch’s beast had to be led so she could have both hands free to work her magic during the battle. Once Ruha began using her magic, Utaiba also hoped that the warriors would assume that it was the invisible witch who was casting spells, instead of “Lander:”

It was a complicated scheme, but so far it was working. The warriors knew nothing about magic, so they were perfectly willing to believe that the witch had turned herself invisible. Ruha had suggested it might simplify things for her to assume her own identity and claim that Lander was invisible, but the sheikhs had all feared that the men would find it much easier to believe that a witch had turned herself invisible rather than someone else.

Realizing that Yatagan was still waiting for her response, Ruha nodded and said, “We’re both ready, Yatagan. Victory or death!” The sound of Lander’s voice issuing from her throat made the young widow feel even more distant from the events that were about to occur.

The wizened sheikh lifted his amarat and sounded a long, piercing tone. An apprehensive flurry rustled the Shremala warriors as they stretched their cold-stiffened arms and shifted their quivers into more accessible positions. Nine distant amarats trumpeted an answer to Yatagan, and Ruha knew the other khowwans were ready.

Yatagan raised his horn to his lips again and blasted a long, trilling note. The sheikh’s mount danced in anticipation, then Yatagan lowered his horn and led his khowwan

down the hill into battle.

A short time later, black slivers began to fly back and forth between the Shremala and the defenders lurking behind the fortifications on the wall. The other tribes were too distant for Ruha to tell if they were also coming under fire, but she assumed that they were. Fortunately, though a man fell from his camel every now and then, the Zhentarim arrows were having little effect on the charge.

The Shremala continued forward beneath the black rain, driving strait for a ten-foot breach in Orofin’s fortifications. When the tribe dosed to within fifty yards of the wall, silver gleams began to flash from the front of the charge, and Ruha knew the first ranks had drawn their scimitars in anticipation of hand-to-hand fighting.

As the Shremala approached the breach, a half-dozen tiny, blackrobed figures rose from behind the wall’s crenelations. At first Ruha could not tell what they were doing, but then they heaved several bundles onto the top of the wall and emptied the contents over the side. Just as the first Bedine warriors reached the breach, dozens of melonsized rocks poured out of the bundles and clattered down on them. A muffled crash rolled across the empty ground between Orofin and the hill upon which Ruha and Utaiba waited.

The had of rubble stopped the attack, knocking more than two dozen warriors from their saddles and littering the ground in front of the breach with bodies. The rear ranks of the charge pulled up short, spraying the top of the fortifications with arrows while a half-dozen of their unmounted companions rushed back to their ranks.

One of the figures stopped a few paces in front of the others, then waved his scimitar toward the gap. Two dozen men immediately slipped off their camel’s backs and followed him toward the breach, drawing their own blades. The rest of the tril)e remained in place, firing arrows at the top of the wall or into the fortress itself.

When the running figures began to pick their way through the rubble in front of the breach, a flurry of arrows streaked from the gap. The men on foot fell in their tracks, then a handful of Zhentarim filled the breach and began firing arrows at the warriors who were still mounted. Soon, more Black Robes appeared along the top of the wall, and the Shremala had to fall back and trade arrows with the Zhentarim from longer range.

Ruha scanned the other breaches at which Bedine were attacking and saw a similar situation at each of them. “Idiots!” the widow cursed, slapping her thigh.

“Not at all;’ Utaiba objected, scowling. “Our warriors are dying bravely.”

“Not them!” the witch snapped, looking toward the sheikh. “Us. We should have expected this! If La-” She stopped herself from saying the Harper’s name in midsentence and finished instead by saying, “I should have known they’d have more than one way to defend the walls:’

Utaiba nodded sadly, his eyes betraying his own regret. “We can’t blame ourselves;’ he whispered. “When have any of us ever stormed a fort? The important thing to do now is deal with this tactic:’

Ruha nodded, but did not answer. She was trying to think of a way to protect the warriors from the rubble showers. An overhead shelter would protect the Bedine warriors, allowing them to mass in front of the breaches and match the Zhentarim’s firepower. Unfortunately, they had neither the materials nor the time to build such shelters. Yet, she knew that if the sheikh’s plan was to succeed, the Bedine had to maintain the attacks on the breaches.

After a few moments of studying Orofin’s walls, Ruha’s good eye settled on a three hundred-foot section of unbroken wall. Apparently the Zhentarim were not concerned about defending that section, for there were only four men

along the entire stretch. The thing the widow liked best about this particular length of wall, however, was that there was a small sand dune standing ten yards in front of it.

Ruha turned to Utaiba. “Our warriors must stop wasting their arrows by firing blindly into the fortress. Instead, each tribe should put its twenty best archers in front of the breach. Everybody else must give their quivers to the archers, who are to fire at anybody moving along the rampart, but only if they have a good target:’

“That is madness;’ Utaiba answered, shaking his head. “With so few archers, the enemy will mass his own bowmen on the walls and pick us off like gazelles:”

“No they won’t;’ Ruha countered. “Not if they’re too busy defending the breaches against the others. The rest of the warriors are to draw their scimitars and rush the breaches, but they mustn’t mass together. Tel them to spread out along the base of the wall, at least three feet apart. They should slip into the gaps one at a time, and they must die rather than retreat:”

Utaiba frowned. “What will this accomplish?”

“By not massing together, the warriors will prevent the Zhentarim from dumping rubble on them-or at least keep that tactic from being very effective when they use it. Our archers will keep some of the Zhentarim occupied and pinned behind their fortifications, preventing them from leaning over the top of the wall to shoot at our men along the base:’

“And the attacks against the breaches? Do you think this will prove more successful than what we’re already doing?”

Ruha shrugged. “I don’t think it will be any less successful, but the main purpose of those attacks is to keep the Zhentarim inside the fort busy. When you and I lead the Raz’hadi into Orofin, we’ll want to have as many of the Black Robes as possible thinking about other things:’ Utaiba raised his eyebrow, interested but still puzzled. “And how is my tribe going to get through a breach when no one else can do it?”

The widow turned Lander’s manly lips into a confident smile, then gestured toward the empty camel at her side. “Ruha is going to make a new breach for us-one the Zhentarim won’t be able to defend:’

Utaiba looked doubtful. “I don’t remember Ruha describing any spell that could knock a hole in Orofin’s walls:’ “She has thought of a new way to use her magic;’ Ruha replied, pointing to the stretch of unbroken wall she had selected for her plan. “That part of the fort is manned by only four sentries. Ruha can use her magic to punch a hole through it. If the Raz’hadi move quickly, they will be into Orofin before the Zhentarim realize what has happened:’

A careful smile creased the wiry sheikh’s lips. “The witch is sure she can open a gap in that wall?”

“There is some risk, but she thinks her spell will have the power. It’s certainly worth a try. If it doesn’t work, all we have to do is turn around and ride away.”

Utaiba nodded. “If I understood magic better, I would ask for more of an explanation. For now, however, I will have to trust that the gods knew what they were doing when they sent the witch to us:’

The sheikh summoned ten messengers, then sent them to the other sheikhs with Ruha’s suggestion. After the riders were gone, Utaiba turned his camel toward his men, calling, “It is time for the Raz’hadi to mount!” he commanded. “We ride to glory!”

The warriors cheered in enthusiasm, then did as their sheikh ordered. Ruha led Utaiba and his warriors a quartermile to the west, stopping in front of the unbroken stretch of wall. They were still over two hundred yards from Orofin, so the widow could not see if the Raz’hadi’s shift of

position concerned the four Zhentarim guards. It was a good sign, however, that no additional Black Robes were appearing atop the wall. Apparently the enemy still believed this section of the fort was secure.

“Now what?” asked Utaiba. “Do we fly over the wall?” “No,” Ruha answered, laying her reins across her lap. “We ride through it:’

“Ride through it?” he said.

BOOK: The Parched Sea
4.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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