"She did so with your permission," explained Winona. "That is different. It is evil to do such a thing unbidden."
"What if the man asks you to do it?" asked Prince Umal.
Winona turned and gazed questioningly at the Odessian prince.
"If the man requests it, will you peer into his mind?" asked Prince Umal.
"Only if his request is sincere," Winona replied suspiciously.
"It will be sincere," Prince Umal promised as he turned and walked towards the wounded Borundan.
The Odessian prince knelt next to the wounded man and reached out and turned his head so that the man could look into the Odessian's eyes.
"You are going to die," Prince Umal said threateningly. "The problem with that is that you hold information that I desire. Are you willing to talk to me?"
The Borundan scowled at the Odessian prince and tried to spit into his face. Prince Umal smiled and shook his head.
"Pitiful," taunted Prince Umal. "We have a wisper with us who can peer into your mind. I have heard that it is painless and only lasts a short time, after which I will quickly remove your head from your body. Your death will be swift and painless. Do you wish to talk to me freely or should I summon the wisper?"
"I will tell you nothing, sandman," snarled the Borundan.
"That is a shame," retorted Prince Umal as he drew one of his scimitars and held it before the man's eyes. "I was hoping that you would seek a painless exit from this world, but there are other ways to make you talk. It may stretch out the agony of your death for three or four days, but I am an Odessian. If nothing else, we have patience."
The Borundan's eyes filled with fear as he stared at the wavering scimitar before his eyes, but his lips remained pressed tightly together in an act of defiance. Prince Umal slowly moved the scimitar until its blade touched the man's hand. He smiled thinly and held his free hand in front of the man's face and wiggled his fingers.
"I have five," smiled Prince Umal. "How many do you have?"
"Don't," the Borundan whimpered. "I don't know anything. Let me die in peace."
"Even if I were to abandon your body here," replied the Odessian prince, "it would take many hours for you to die. The scavengers would arrive long before that. Surely you do not want to lie here on the road being eaten alive? Call for the wisper and ask her to read your mind. I give you my solemn promise that your death will be quick."
The Borundan was shaking with fear, but he did not open his mouth to respond. Prince Umal looked into the man's eyes and shook his head.
"Perhaps I do not have as much patience as my father after all," scowled Prince Umal as he tapped the sword on the man's hand. "Either ask now for the wisper or you will have lost your chance to do so. I am tired of waiting."
"Send her," croaked the Borundan. "I will let her do whatever she wants."
"I will send her over," Prince Umal promised as he sheathed his scimitar, "but you must actually ask her with sincerity, or she will refuse. If she refuses, you will not get a second chance."
Prince Umal rose and walked over to where Prince Antion and Winona stood watching.
"He has requested a wisper to read his mind," Price Umal announced.
"Why?" Winona asked suspiciously.
"Because I promised to kill him quickly if he did," answered the Odessian prince. "No one likes to suffer."
Winona frowned but she approached the dying man. The princes stood and watched as the wisper exchanged a few words with the Borundan and then placed her hands on his head.
"I saw that your sword was required to talk to the wounded," Prince Antion commented.
"I did use it to threaten him," shrugged the Odessian prince, "but his greater fear was the thought of scavengers feasting on his body before he died. That is not the way I would choose to go."
A few minutes later Winona retracted her hands and rose to her feet. Prince Umal walked over to the wounded man and swiftly decapitated him. Winona walked away and stood near Prince Antion and the others gathered around to hear the news.
"The Borundans have taken Oran," she announced. "In a couple of days they will march on Natura."
"Oran has fallen?" Prince Umal asked sadly. "That cannot be."
"The city was practically abandoned," Winona continued. "Only a few hundred elderly and infirm remained behind. That infuriated General Bassner. Zinan was there shortly after the Borundans conquered the city. He ordered the general to march on Natura after a few days rest. The Borundans are unaware that their attack in the east has failed. They think the Odessian warriors are right now heading north towards Caxon. The group we just fought was heading to Caxon to warn General Vanatay about the supposed Odessian movement."
"So they will strike at Natura while they think my people are gone," nodded Prince Umal. "I must leave the group."
"Why?" asked Prince Derri.
"To gather Odessian warriors," replied Prince Umal as he approached the nearest body and removed the waterskin from the dead soldier. "My father might be tempted to dally in the east. I cannot take the chance that Natura will be undefended."
"But that does not mean that you must leave the group," smiled Prince Derri. "It is no longer safe for us to continue down this road if Oran is held by the Borundans. We will accompany you and fight by your side. What else are brothers for?"
Prince Umal looked at Prince Derri and grinned broadly. The rest of the group nodded their approval.
"Then my brother must hope that his tracking skills are up to chasing an Odessian through the desert," declared Prince Umal. "I plan to push on through the night. Can you follow me?"
"I know even the Odessian tricks of tracking," grinned Prince Derri. "Ride on and we will follow."
"Gather all of the Borundans' waterskins," advised the Odessian prince. "There will be a shortage of watering holes on the path I will take."
Without further words, Prince Umal leaped onto his Odessian beauty and headed southeast at a gallop. Within minutes he was out of sight.
Chapter 66 - March of Death
March of Death
King Caedmon and Evan were in the king's office in the royal palace in Anatar. A loud knock on the door drew their attention away from the documents they were discussing, and the king called for the visitor to enter. The door opened and General Fergus stepped into the room. He glanced around to see who was present and then closed the door before approaching the king's desk.
"One of our scouts has just returned from Capri," the general said softly. "The situation is dire."
"Tell us about it," the king replied, indicating that it was permissible to share the information with the king's advisor.
"Capri has been inundated with Borundan soldiers," reported the general. "Thousands upon thousands of men are pouring into the country. They already have siege weapons constructed and the makings of portable bridges. Their supply caravans stretch for miles."
"So this is no sudden move," nodded King Caedmon. "Such organization shows that the planning has been ongoing for months." The king sighed heavily and rose from his chair. "We should not be surprised," the king continued as he turned to stare out the window at the swelled Arin River. "They obviously expect us to destroy the bridge over the river or they would not have prepared to build their own. Do you have an estimate of when we can expect the attack?"
"Perhaps a week," shrugged the general. "They still have to march the length of Capri. That will require some time, but their lead units could easily strike sooner."
"Is an attack guaranteed?" asked King Caedmon. "I cannot ask King Hector to commit his nation to an attack on Borunda if we are not first attacked."
General Fergus sighed and wrung his hands. "There are no guarantees," he answered after a moment of thought. "We both know that King Zinan's forces are preparing to launch a war against us, but he has not yet done so. If we wait until he does, it will be too late for the Salacians to get into position to help us. You must notify them to start moving now."
"Yet we woul
d be forcing our ally to commit an unjust offense," Evan pointed out. "Your reign has been noted for its fairness and patience. To attack without provocation would be against everything you have ever stood for."
"So I should let the Borundans stream into Anatar and murder my citizens?" scowled the king.
"No," Evan shook his head. "I am not suggesting that. I believe as you do, King Caedmon, that we are about to be brutally attacked. I am merely pointing out the ramifications of your decision. Ordering the Salacians into battle right now would be no different than our own troops entering Capri to attack the Borundans."
"Understood," nodded the king, "but I am not concerned about what history reports about my reign. I am concerned about the welfare of the people of Arin. I am equally concerned that I do not put the Salacians in a position that is untenable to them. Loyal friends are hard to find these days, and King Hector has been nothing if not a loyal friend."
"Either we have the Salacians move or we do not," sighed the general. "There is no in between."
"I think there is," countered the king. "King Rihad of Odessia would not take offense to the Salacian army moving through his country. In fact, this matter has already been discussed with him. That means that King Hector can begin moving his army right now. We will have to post relays between here and a spot on the Arin-Odessian border where we can get a message across."
"Get a message across during the spring melt?" the general's eyebrows rose. "What do you have in mind?"
"We send word immediately to King Hector," explained the king. "His army will cross into Caroom and start down the road to Koar. He cannot possibly reach Capri before the Borundans attack us, so all we have to do is get a message to him across the river before he enters Capri. Either he continues onward because we have been attacked, or he halts and remains in Odessian territory."
"We can do that," brightened the general. "There are numerous spots where the Koar-Oran Road comes close to the river. We can devise a signal to let the Salacians know the true nature of the situation here before they are committed to battle."
"See to it," ordered King Caedmon, "and then return here. We must discuss our strategy based on the news brought in by your scout."
The general was not gone more than a few minutes before he returned. The king nodded his approval at the swift dispatch of his order, but he noted a curious look on the general's face.
"We are too late," General Fergus announced. "A relay rider from the Anatar-Kyland Road just arrived at the palace. There will be no need to send the message to the Salacians."
"Tell me what happened," the king ordered with concern.
"King Zinan showed up at the bridge on the Caxon-Kyland Road," explained the general. "He single-handedly destroyed the bridge. It no longer exists."
"The Talent?" gasped Evan.
"Evidently so," nodded the general. "All the Borundan did was stare at the bridge. It all sounds very much like the stories we heard about the battle of Laborg. We no longer have to wonder if those stories were true. The Borundan king has some interesting capabilities."
"Not to mention a proficient spy ring," nodded King Caedmon. "King Zinan did not just happen to understand the significance of that bridge. He knew that it was vital to our defense plans. The Salacians could not be in a worse place to help us now. By the time King Hector's army reaches Anatar, it will be in Borundan hands."
"He is sending his cavalry on ahead," stated General Fergus. "It is likely that they will be the only element of the Salacian army to be at our disposal."
* * *
General Bassner was extremely irritated. He had a massive army at his back and fair weather overhead, yet he was forced to move at a snail's pace because of the invalids before him. Many of the old people taken from Oran were too feeble to make a journey of any considerable distance, but King Zinan had ordered him to drive the Odessians before his army, so that is what he had to do. The elderly Odessians had not wanted to leave the city, and the Borundan general had had to exert his power over them. He issued a decree that any Odessian who faltered along the way was to be killed on the spot. That decree had left a trail of bodies across the sands of western Odessia.
The Borundan soldiers were dispirited not only by the slow pace, but the killing of the frail shamed most of them. The first few miles out of Oran claimed over a hundred citizens of Oran. After that, most of the Borundan soldiers feigned ignorance when one of the old people fell. They simply marched around the fallen person. When General Bassner was informed of the matter, he issued an even more stringent decree. Any soldier who passed by a still-living Odessian was to be killed. The general had a loyal band of soldiers who instantly promoted themselves to watch the others, and after the first few murders of Borundan soldiers, no fallen Odessian was overlooked. Over four hundred Odessians had started on the march of death out of Oran, and by the sunset of the first day, only thirty men remained alive. Paki was one of them.
As the sky darkened, General Bassner called a halt for the day. As the camp was set up, the thirty captives were kept in the center of the camp so that they could not escape. For the first hour after setting up camp, the captives were watched closely. They did not even attempt to speak to one another. Eventually the guards grew bored with their task and ignored the old people. That is when the Odessians' fingers began moving.
"Do not try to escape tonight," Paki warned the others with his fingers. "They will be expecting it. Sleep as much as your body will allow. If you can steal a waterskin, do so and hide it under your clothes, but do not drink from it. Save it."
"What do you have planned?" asked one of the survivors.
"The winds have changed," Paki smiled thinly as his fingers continued to talk for him. "Tomorrow we are likely to have a storm. When the storm comes, you must be prepared to act. As soon as the air becomes thick with sand, move as fast as you can to either side of the road. Once you are away from the column, dig yourselves into the sand and wait for the night to come. Use the darkness to travel to the north, and remember to conserve your water. Half a day's walk to the north is an oasis. If you can find it, remain there until King Rihad comes to rescue you."
"How will our king know that we are there?" asked one of the men.
"I will tell him," Paki signaled with confidence. "I will remain with these infidels until our sons defeat them. If you can make it to the oasis, you will be rescued. That is my promise to you."
A Borundan soldier approached the captives and the Odessian fingers fell silent. The soldier threw two loaves of bread and two waterskins to the old men. That was the evening meal for the thirty captives. One waterskin immediately disappeared and the other was passed around. Likewise, one loaf of bread was hidden, and the second waterskin also disappeared, even though it was empty. An hour later the Borundans had finished their evening meal. While most of the elderly people went to sleep, the Borundan soldiers were not tired. The day's journey had been no exertion for them, so they stayed up and talked for hours.
Paki woke up in the middle of the night. The camp was dark, but the old man's senses were still intact. He sat silently for a long time just listening and staring into the darkness in an attempt to locate the sentries. When he finally located them, he realized that they were closer to the camp's perimeter than the center. The old man crawled away from the captives' area in search of waterskins. Some soldiers carried two waterskins, and it was those soldiers that Paki stole from. He did not want a ruckus in the morning when a soldier woke up and noticed his waterskin missing. Over the course of three hours, Paki managed to secure thirty waterskins. He made sure that each of the captives had one concealed in his clothes before returning to sleep.
When morning arrived, Paki listened intently to hear if anyone complained about his missing waterskin. He placed two empty waterskins on the ground before him just in case, but the pace of clearing up the camp was too hectic for anyone to complain. General Bassner was impatient to get moving, and the captives were herded onto the road before
most of the camp was ready to follow.
It was shortly after high sun that the winds began to pick up. At first the blowing sand was merely a nuisance, but as the force increased, Paki heard shouts and curses as the stinging sands blasted into the Borundan soldiers. The old Odessian man unwrapped his headdress and rewrapped it so it covered his entire face with only a tiny slit open for his eyes. The headdress hid his broad smile from the Borundans.
Within an hour the sandstorm was so thick that one could not see more than ten paces. Paki slowed down and let his fellow Odessians pass him by. He made sure that he was visible to the soldiers behind him while his comrades moved faster to put some distance between themselves and the army. Once the other Odessians got far enough ahead that they could no longer see Paki, they turned and ran blindly away from the road. Only Paki remained to ensure that the Borundans believed the Odessians were still in front of them.
An hour later the winds abated for a short time. The Borundans noticed that only Paki remained ahead of them. Shouts from the lead soldiers immediately brought General Bassner to the head of the column where he called a halt.
"Where are the others?" scowled the Borundan general.
"They were lost to the fierce winds," shrugged Paki. "I saw one of them blown to the side of the road, but I dared not stop to help him. I wish I could have done something. They will surely die in this weather."
"Search the sides of the road," ordered the general, "and get me a rope. This sandman is not going to flee."
The soldiers searched both sides of the road but they could not find any of the escaped captives. General Bassner had a rope tied around Paki with the loose end held by the lead Borundan rider. The unexpected stop cost an hour's march, and the winds began to pick back up before the column got underway again.
The sand grew thicker by the minute until it was once again impossible to see any distance at all. The road was often covered with sand, but in storms like this it became indistinguishable from the rest of the desert. A seasoned veteran like Paki who was used to the ways the sand blew could determine the true route of the road, but the old man knew that the Borundans had no clue. As soon as a broad valley appeared off to the right side of the road, Paki confidently turned the column to march along it.
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