An Alex Hawk Time Travel Adventure (Book 1): A Door Into Time

by Inmon, Shawn

  “Yes. Two others.”

  “And you are the farthest out? Are the other crews on this path?” Alex wanted to say road instead of path, but there was no language or even concept for what a road was in any of the Kragdon-ah languages.

  “Yes. We are the smallest work crew. The other two will be twice our size or more.”

  Alex turned to Sekun-ak. “Let’s take a small group of bowmen—just regular bows, not longbows. Those aren’t accurate enough for what I have in mind. If the other work crews are double this size, then they might have as many as ten guards. Let’s take twenty-four men, march them quietly ahead, and take out the guards like we did here.”

  “Except we will kill all the guards. Leaving them behind like you are doing here is no good.”

  Alex considered. This is war. The mission is all that matters.

  “Yes. Kill the guards. Then have the workers strip them of their weapons—”

  “—except for their stama, which we will burn.”

  I seem to have lost this battle, too.

  “—except for their stama, which you can burn. Equip them with whatever other equipment they can take from the guards and have them wait for us there. We’ll wait here to give you a head start, then follow along behind you.”

  Sekun-ak turned immediately, chose his two dozen bowmen and set off at a trot, glad to have a mission to carry out.

  The former slaves had tied the guards up and were standing close to them. The one who had asked to kill them urinated, a long, splashing arc that spattered all over the guards. He was taking his kenda wherever he could find it.

  The men had started a small bonfire and heaped the crossbows on top.

  Alex watched them burn.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  The End of the Beginning

  It had been four days since the execution of Prata-eh and the rest of Janta-ak’s team. Because they had also executed an innocent worker, no one was looking for Janta-ak, thinking him already dead. Still, with each passing day, he felt a heavier weight on his shoulders. He knew Manta-ak and his army were on the way—would be there any day in fact—and he didn’t feel like he had done enough.

  On that morning, Janta-ak became even more concerned. Something was different. Typically, the outer area, which was behind the first barricade, but outside the original wall, was crawling with Denta-ah and slaves alike. On this morning, the slaves were going about their normal chores, but the number of Denta-ah guarding them had fallen considerably.

  Janta-ak reported to work stripping the trees down to build more of a new barricade he had heard rumors of, but a guard turned him away.

  “Go to the front gate. We’re building a large bonfire there. You will chop wood from the trees today instead of stripping them.”

  Janta-ak kept his eyes downcast and walked toward the outer gate. When he was out of the line of vision of that guard, he picked up an armful of wood and turned back the way he had come. He was careful to avoid the guard who had assigned him to the bonfire, and as long as he was carrying something, no one thought him out of place.

  He made it all the way to the spot where the first barricade had been built at the entrance to the dead-end valley.

  A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and the tip of a stone spear jabbed him in the ribs.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He spun around, thinking he’d been caught by the first guard after all. He was relieved to see that it was a different man.

  Janta-ak cast his eyes to the ground submissively but lifted up the wood. “I was told to bring this wood to the gate to help build a bonfire.”

  The guard cuffed him on the head.

  “Wrong gate. No wonder we can’t get anything done on time. You slaves are dumber than an alecs-ah. Take that wood to the front gate.”

  Janta-ak mumbled, “Sorry,” then hurried toward the front gate. As he did, he counted his steps.

  When he got near the front gate, he saw other slaves had already brought armfuls of wood and were stacking them so as to build a huge fire. Janta-ak dropped his wood then blended in with the others.

  162 steps from that gate to this one, Janta-ak thought.

  As he walked, he had also noticed that preparatory activities throughout the front area were slower. Where normally there was a production line making arrows, crossbow parts and other weapons, those areas were quiet. More workers were wandering around, trying to look busy while not actually doing anything.

  And why do they want such a huge fire right here by the gate, he wondered. What purpose will this serve?

  Janta-ak glanced up to see Doug-ak strolling along, speaking to Dunta-ak, ignoring everyone around them.

  Could I kill him right now? Janta-ak wondered. Smash a piece of wood over his head and kill him? Would it end this, or is it too late? Would it continue without him?

  Janta-ak hefted a heavy stick of wood in his hand as Doug-ak walked by him but let him pass. He knew if he killed Doug-ak he would be killed himself. That thought alone didn’t bother him, but he knew he would be needed when the battle began. He wasn’t sure if the seeds he had sown since his capture would bloom without him.

  The fire was lit and after a few minutes, thick black smoke rose up into the sky.

  Janta-ak noticed that the Denta-ah had assembled long, strong pieces of wood into something he had never seen before. Try as he might, he could not puzzle out what purpose it served.

  More slaves appeared, dragging a stump covered in black pitch and heaving it on top of the fire. The pitch caught immediately and more smoke boiled forth and flames leaped up from the dried-out hulk of wood.

  Janta-ak saw that Doug-ak and Dunta-ak were having a discussion that had grown heated. Janta-ak eased toward them while trying to appear that he wasn’t doing that very thing. He carried more pieces of wood and strategically placed them on the pile, straining to hear.

  When he finally caught what they were saying, he realized they were speaking Denta-ah, a language Janta-ak barely knew. He casually tossed a piece of wood on the fire, then found the old man who had been his co-conspirator since he arrived in Denta-ah.

  Again, without appearing to do so, he leaned over and said, “Can you speak Denta-ah?”

  “Yes. They were always our greatest trade partner.”

  Janta-ak nodded at Doug-ak and Dunta-ak and looked a question at the old man, who nodded and moved toward them. He carried a long stick and poked and prodded at the fire while avoiding the stacks of crossbow bolts and moving toward the two men. When he was near them, he paused, then continued around the bonfire, which was now a mighty blaze.

  When he came back to Janta-ak, he said, “They are arguing. Dunta-ak wishes to rain fire down on them. The ugly slug says he wants to trap them.”

  Trap them how? Janta-ak wondered.

  At that moment, a long arrow landed in front of him, barely missing his left foot. He whipped his head around and looked up at the crossbowmen atop the wall. Miraculously, three of them tumbled off their perch and fell to the ground, grasping at arrows buried deep in their throats or chests.

  The other crossbowmen ducked low and reloaded. They fired again and again. Moments later, four more tumbled down. There were other bowmen standing by to take their place, but Doug-ak stamped his foot and shouted something that Janta-ak couldn’t understand.

  The remaining bowmen on the wall hurried down the ladders, happy to be out of harm’s way.

  Another barrage of long arrows flew over the wall in a graceful arc. Two more of the guards were hit, an arrow landed within three feet of Doug-ak, and the final arrow found the chest of the old man tending the fire.

  Janta-ak rushed to him, but the old man didn’t say anything. He grimaced, then closed his eyes.

  Janta-ak rushed toward the gate. If arrows were going to randomly come over the top, the area at the gate itself was the safest spot.

  Doug-ak spoke harshly to Dunta-ak, who barked orders to the gathered crossbowmen. They ran toward the interior g
ate.

  Meanwhile, four Denta-ah soldiers thrust long pieces of wood under the burning stump and carried it to what Janta-ak now recognized as some form of Stama.

  A guard saw Janta-ak gawking at what they were doing, said, “None of your business, slave,” and slammed his cudgel into Janta-ak’s temple.

  Janta-ak crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

  An unknown length of time later, he came around, stood up and was amazed to see that every Denta-ah guard and warrior was gone. The burning stump was gone. The only people left in the front area were the slaves, who stood around, unsure of what to do. His first thought was to grab some of the weapons and start his uprising.

  All the weapons had been hauled away. Every spear, bow, ax, hammer, and crossbow was gone.

  Even odder, many of the slaves had been pulled inside. The great open area between the first and second gates was nearly empty. Only a few dozen slaves stood, wondering what to do.

  “This is what we have been waiting for. An army is outside, waiting to liberate us and kill every last Denta-ah who enslaved us. Come, help me open the gate!”

  A dozen men hurried to him and helped lift and swing the gate outward.

  Janta-ak found himself face to face with Manta-ak, Monda-ak, and an army hidden behind shields.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  The End of the Beginning II

  Alex dispersed some of the non-essential weapons that his army carried to the men who had been forced to work for Denta-ah. His longbow men and women had a full complement of weapons—axes, clubs, hammers—that they would never use. The longbow contingent was to stand far back and rain death down on the opposition. By the time they got to hand-to-hand combat, there would be weapons abandoned by the dead and dying everywhere.

  In the interim, that gave them twenty or so new warriors that could help offset the numerical advantage Denta-ah had in the endgame of a battle.

  In most battles, each side fights until they see they can no longer win. At that point, peace might be bargained for.

  Not in this case.

  Denta-ah would be defending their home. If they lost that, they lost everything.

  Alex’s Army was fighting for their way of life. They would fight until there was no life left in any of them. In that case, having a few dozen more warriors swinging an ax or hammer might make a difference. If nothing else, it would allow them to die on their feet, fighting, instead of dying of malnutrition and abuse. Every warrior Alex had ever met—in the twenty-first century and in Kragdon-ah—would take that deal.

  Alex ordered the men to rest, eat and drink. It would be their last chance before the battle. When he judged he had given Sekun-ak enough of a head start, he had Tinta-ak lead the troop forward.

  Alex and Monda-ak stuck to the front.

  They marched.

  Again, when they came around a bend, they found another work crew. The difference this time was that there were no guards, no crossbows—only workers holding weapons. There was no sight of the guards. Alex could guess what that meant.

  Alex counted forty new fighters. Again, they were ill-equipped, but some had the axes they used to bring trees down. Others had weapons acquired from the guards. Again, the longbow men and women shared their striking weapons.

  A man with many scars approached Alex.

  “Your men came out of nowhere. Our guards were lax and bored. The first time they realized anything was wrong was when arrows struck them. They never even fired their own bows.”

  “Good. Join us in the back as we march, and the men back there will tell you the plan.”

  Alex hiked on, his step a little lighter. He had been afraid of a Denta-ah ambush that might cost him warriors on the trek. Instead, they were adding to their numbers.

  When Alex knew they were only a short distance from where they would emerge onto the open field that surrounded Denta-ah, he saw Sekun-ak sitting on a stump, waiting for them.

  “I thought you had decided to return to Winten-ah.” He looked around at all the stumps. “I wouldn’t have blamed you. It is ugly here.”

  “Progress is rarely beautiful,” Alex said, then saw that it had gone over Sekun-ak’s head. “Never mind. Any trouble with these guards?”

  “If the defenders of Denta-ah are as sleepy as these guards were, we will be through the gates before twilight.”

  “Our bowmen have given up as many weapons as they have.”

  “I gave them the weapons we retrieved. The others can hang to the back and pick up weapons as we go.”

  “We are over four hundred strong now,” Alex observed.

  “But they do not all know the fighting tricks you showed us.”

  “No, but they can still bash a man’s skull with a stone ax.”

  “When we go around the bend ahead, Denta-ah’s guards will be able to see us.”

  “This far back?”

  “They have taken many trees, according to the workers.” Sekun-ak didn’t want to call the freed men slaves. They had once been, they were no longer.

  Alex squinted up at the sun. “It would be better to wait until it is darker. Not full dark, but perhaps dusk?”

  Sekun-ak pointed at the new soldiers they had appropriated. “They will be expecting them back soon. When they don’t appear, they may not come looking for them, but it will put them on alert.”

  “Then it is time. As soon as we come out of the forest, we fast march, with each leader separating their own squad. Front row of each squad, shields up from the beginning. Second row, cover the heads of the first. Third row, cover the second and tilt to deflect. We’ll know when they think we’re in the range of the crossbows, because they’ll start hitting the shield. I want every man and woman quiet. All they should hear is the march of our feet.”

  Sekun-ak had listened patiently. “So, exactly like we practiced it many, many times?”

  Alex realized it was just pre-battle jitters. “Yes, sorry.”

  “No need for sorry. It is good to have it fresh in our heads.” Sekun-ak turned and looked back over the assembled men and women. “We are ready.”

  Alex stepped away from the cover and looked at Denta-ah. Black smoke rose from behind a barrier much further out from where he remembered it being.

  “I think they are ready, too.”

  Alex had run every possible battle scenario through his head as he prepared for this moment. He had thought it would be possible that when they appeared, the Denta-ah would use their superior numbers and bring the battle to them, running out of the gate with shields, crossbows and longbows.

  Instead, Alex’s Army marched into the open field in crisp formations, formed into their units, and stood stock still, and there was no response from Denta-ah. It appeared their enemy was more than happy to have the army throw themselves against the fortress they had constructed, to hide behind its walls.

  Sekun-ak led the first squad, which marched six across and ten deep. For the moment they carried their shields in the relaxed position. They were still hundreds of yards from the enemy and nearly as far out of crossbow range.

  Tinta-ak led the second squad, while Balta-ak led the third. They formed up on the immediate left and right flank of Sekun-ak.

  Alex and Monda-ak stood in front of Sekun-ak’s squad. He would lead all of them because he had seen the crossbows fire and thought he had a good grasp on their power and range. He kept Monda-ak behind him, where he could keep him safe with his shield.

  Alex marched forward at a steady pace, followed by his entire army—minus the newest members he had picked up and equipped as best he could. He wanted to keep them hidden as a last-ditch effort if needed. He had left Tontu-ak, who owned the other giant dog—Monda-ak’s brother—in charge of that group.

  The closer to Denta-ah that Alex got without resistance, the more nervous he became. He had expected a group of longbowmen, crossbowmen, or even slaves armed with more rudimentary weapons to attack them by now. Instead, they marched unimpeded.

  Alex held a h
and up to shield his eyes from the late-afternoon sun and saw the guards lined up on the fortification, but although they seemed to be looking right at the approaching army, none of them appeared concerned.

  Which, of course, concerned Alex.

  When an opponent allows you to make a move, it is usually because that is the move they wanted you to make.

  As they approached the line Alex had established in his mind as putting them in crossbow range, he held up his arm and said, “Halt.”

  He took a few steps back to where Sekun-ak stood waiting for orders.

  Sekun-ak surveyed the guards atop the fortress. “If they do not attempt to stop us, we can walk right up and fight our way inside.”

  “I don’t like it. Something is off.” Alex hesitated. “But what else is there to do? We can’t lay siege to them. They’ve likely got months’ worth of supplies in there, while we’ve got nothing.”

  “You are thinking too much, little brother. We spent all winter coming up with a plan. Do we want to change it now because they are hiding behind their gate?”

  Alex reached out and laid his hand on Sekun-ak’s shoulder. “You are correct.”

  Alex took three steps to the side, sharpened his voice and said, “Squad One, shields up!”

  The men and women in Sekun-ak’s squad moved together. The front row locked their shields, the trailing rows lifted their shields to cover the rows in front of them.

  Alex lowered his voice and spoke to Sekun-ak. “When they begin to shoot at you, hold your shield position and keep moving forward.”

  Sekun-ak said, “March,” and his squad moved as a single organism, marching in time with each other.

  “Squad Two and Squad Three, shields up!”

  Less than a minute later, all squads marched toward the gate.

  Alex kept his shield lowered so he could see the enemy response, but marched behind Sekun-ak’s squad.

  They were well past what Alex thought was proper crossbow range before the Denta-ah opened fire.