by Lazlo Ferran
“Not a good sign.” I muttered.
I dismounted and looked closely at it. The stitching had come loose on one of the seams.
A few sachine further on, there were four planks of wood.
We reached the camp, a half-hour later than anticipated, weary, thirsty and hungry, but looking back, I could see the men were becoming hardened and less tired than previous days.
I immediately quizzed the Camp Captain about the water-skin.
“The Captain of the Water-Brigade reported that the stitching had come loose, chaffing the camel’s back.” He said. “Two more sacks had lost most of the water before they realised and repaired them.”
He held my gaze as I looked and I said, “Anything else?”
“Yes Sire. One of the men said he had seen something move, slightly behind him and perhaps 300 sachine to his left. His Captain asked if he was sure and he did not answer. Later I heard him mumbling that he was sure he had seen something.”
“Hmm. Alright. That is all.”
I wondered if the man had seen one of Korim’s men. I began to wonder if it could even be a soldier from the camp we had seen a few days before. We were now not far from where one might expect them to be, had they headed towards Korim shortly after we had left. They were keeping well off the main track. I knew that. There had been no fresh horse tracks among the many camel tracks. I speculated that Korim had ordered them not to use main roads. It would be tough for them. Either side of the road, there was a thin layer, perhaps a few feet thick of fine sand, blown there from the west. The main track was mainly reddish grit and sand, not the best surface but a lot better than sand.
I called together the scouts and trumpeters, shortly before we left, after noon.
“Show the scouts how to blow a note.” I ordered the trumpeters.
They looked bemused but spent a hilarious half-hour showing the scouts what to do. There was a very serious side to this but I saw no harm in some fun and many other soldiers gathered around to cheer the scouts on. As each one mastered the simple instrument, there was a loud round of applause. When I was satisfied I ordered the rest of the soldiers to get ready to leave.
“Trumpeters. We have enemies all around us and I need to give the scouts a reliable way of communicating quickly. Normally they could use the sun and their shields, if there was time to get into the right position, but not today. May I ask you if we can borrow your trumpets for a few days?”
They all quickly nodded. For most of them, the trumpets were simply a burden, when marching. Most were not trained musicians but just interested in the extra three rubles each year.
“Alright. Dismissed.”
I told the scouts that one of the Water Carriers had thought he had seen something 300 sachine to the left and I could not afford to assume he was wrong.
One of them was to ride out to the scouts on our right flank and bring them back to camp. The nineteen others were to join the remaining 10 on our left flank, in a wide single man flank spaced at intervals of 1 verst, and remain out there, night and day, until they were relieved. They were each to carry a trumpet and use it if they saw the enemy. They were to blow two sets of notes; the first would indicate their position from the camp, 20 notes would indicate the 20th man from the camp, and then either one blow, indicating the enemy were behind, two blows, indicating they were east, or three blows, indicating they were ahead. If any man heard such a set of blows, he should memorise it and repeat it exactly, until it reached camp. As soon as they had blown the note, they should return to camp immediately. After nodding that they understood, they mounted and were gone.
I didn’t like leaving the right flank exposed but it had to be done. I looked east to the mountains and hoped Korim didn’t have some devious trap in store for us.
Half way through the afternoon, just as the heat of the sun was becoming bearable, there was a distant sound of trumpets.
“Halt.” I raised my hand. To Geb behind me I called, “Go and get Zhuan’shuan.”
The Battalions were each marching in separate columns, 50 wide and 20 deep with gaps of perhaps 1 verst between. The gaps were to help prevent us being outflanked. It made our column longer and if any attack focused on one Battalion, the ones in front and behind could outflank the enemy. Zhuan’zhuan’s was the third Battalion from the front and was one of those still consisting of half Cavalry and half Infantry. He was particularly experienced at desert warfare.
Within a few minutes he was at my side and the first of the scouts on the left flank could be seen, racing towards us.
“Zhuan’zhuan. We may be about to be attacked by some of Korim’s men on our left flank. I…” I stopped talking. We could hear the sound of the trumpets again and this time it was close enough for us to make out the number of notes. “Seven, followed by... one.”
“They are seven verst out and behind our leading column, I will send back word as soon as I know their exact position. I want you to take your battalion to the left. Take up position in a flat area, not too far from the main column. They will be mounted so the flat ground will help us. I am not sure but I guess there are about 400 of them. If they look like outflanking you, I will send in the Battalion in front and behind yours.”
“Yes Sire”
A slight smile flickered across his face. Then he was gone.
Geb. Go back and order all the Generals to hold their position but for Abdil’khan and Yedigei to be ready to mount attacks.
“Yes sire.”
I now regretted my instruction for all the scouts to ride in but at the time, I had not known if they would be attacked of not. Now I would need to ensure none of Korim’s men, if that was who they were, could escape north to warn him or our approach. I immediately ordered the remaining scouts, who’d been on the right flank, to ride ahead for 14 verst and then to take positions 1 verst apart on the left flank. They were to kill any of the enemy escaping north.
We waited for perhaps an hour and still no sign of the enemy. I was beginning to think I had misjudged the situation. But then they appeared on a ridge, first one rider, then another and then many. They halted, seeing our column and the Battalion nearer to them. What would they do? What were their instructions? Then, they attacked. The leading rider held his sword up to glint in the Sun and then dropped it in the gesture to charge. Moments later we could hear their cries.
I watched Zhuan’s men. Cleverly, he had arranged his swordsmen in the front two lines, ahead of his spears-men and archers and with most of his horsemen at the rear but perhaps one hundred on each flank. No doubt the enemy thought he had a good chance of inflicting heavy damage on them and he may have feared the wrath of Korim if he didn’t attack. Then I guessed also, that in fact he may not be able to see most of Zhuan’s horses as there was a very slight rise running across the field of battle, which Zhuan’s front two ranks were standing on.
As soon as the enemy charged, Zhuan’s front two ranks of swordsman stooped down and the archers let loose a torrent of arrows. With the enemy still charging and probably shielding their faces and eyes, the swordsmen stood aside and were replaced by spears-men.
Still the enemy came on, their cries getting louder. I could see that they all had scimitars, swords with curving blades, and all had a simple shield, small and round and a helmet that shone in the Sun but they had little other sign of armour, most of their bodies being covered with tan coloured cloth, loose and flowing.
Then we held our breath, as there was that mighty clash of steel. The enemy’s riders had indeed outflanked our own men and the horsemen on the outside rode right past our men and turned about to face their rear. I guessed there were about 400 in total. Perhaps there were men from the camp we had seen a few days earlier. Outflanking our men was a foolish move by their leader, it forced me to send in other men, but perhaps, he too had more forces waiting behind the dunes.
“Geb. Send word to Yedigei and Abdil’khan to send in just their riders.”
He was off and within one minute, a
t a signal from Geb, both men sent their riders at full gallop across the flat to smash into the rear of the enemy’s men attacking our rear. But the enemy was too busy to disengage. They were being slaughtered where they were. Only on the sides and at the front, with high horse-rider against swordsman, were they gaining some advantage. I felt Arstan restlessly kick the soil beneath me as I watched. A cloud of dust was almost obscuring the battle from us and I could not make out exactly what was going on at the battlefront. I saw, on the right side, a group of perhaps fifty of Zhuan’s men, gradually become surrounded and then mercilessly cut down by the flashing blades and I was almost tempted to send more reinforcements. But soon it was obvious that this was not the way the main battle was going. Many loose horses of the enemy were now trotting away from the battle, riderless and the number of tan clothed bodies still standing were becoming fewer and fewer. Then I saw a lone rider break away and ride off back to the rise where they had first appeared. He turned and stood there, watching. I was sure he was the leader. This was not a good sign for them. His men would now be demoralised, seeing him fleeing. Then, I saw a few more of his horsemen break away and speed off east and he himself rode over the rise and was gone. Most of the twenty or so of his men that escaped rode north east. I hoped there would be enough of our scouts to track them all down. But some of them would be wounded and would not get far, I speculated.
“Come on Geb. Let’s go and see what we can find.” We rode slowly to the field of battle and while our wounded were being taken from the field, back to our lines, we searched around for clues as to who, exactly, these men were.
“One alive here Sire,” called Zhuan, sweat streaming down his face, under his helmet, stooping with some of his men, over a limp figure. Zhuan twisted the man’s arm sharply behind his back. “Are you Korim’s man? Is Korim your leader?”
“Kill me, Kill me.”
He was not mortally wounded, which made his request stranger. He had been stabbed in the abdomen but in my opinion the bleeding was not too bad and there should not be any vital organs damaged. He would live. But he did not want to. Was Korim really this cruel? Or fierce?
“Ask him how many of Korim’s men are in the desert?”
“You heard the King. How many?”
“Ha! Ha!” The man laughed, a sick and rye laugh. “You think I would tell you that. You are mad! My family would all be killed.”
Zhan and I smiled at each other. The man, in his semi-conscious state, had already given us more information than he intended.
“Leave him. It will be his decision whether he lives or dies. Not ours.”
There were few other signs of life in the enemy lines. Gen and I searched through a few men’s possessions but found nothing revealing so we left and rode back the main column.
Soon we were all assembled again, with the wounded being treated by those soldiers trained in the craft.
“We will rest for one hour and then we will ride, I told the assembled Generals.”
I cradled my head in my gloved hand. We would not now make the next water station on time but I didn’t think I could afford to lose a day. And with many men wounded, our losses would only rise now. However, we had learned something of the enemy. They were Korim’s men and there were more of them in the desert. But they were probably not organised and probably didn’t know of us.
During the course of the evening the scouts came in, all of them claiming to have killed at least one for the enemy. By dusk only two had not returned. We waited, growing more nervous.
Finally, one rider came in.
“I have killed two.” He said. “I followed them a very great distance and at one point I thought I would have to turn back as I saw lights, in the distance, to the east. But the riders rode north and jinked back and forth, until in the gloom, I could hardly follow their trail. Then, fortunately for me, they reached a wadi and I could see them huddled over a fire. They were easy to kill, one with an arrow and one with my sword.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “Well done. Have some potka and relax.”
I wished now that I had counted the riders who had escaped and fled.
A thought occurred to me. “Was one of them the leader, do you think?” I asked the last scout, as he walked off.
“I am not sure, Sire. I could not say.”
“Hmm.”
As I thought, we had not caught him yet. Of course I could not be sure but you would expect him to be wilier than the rest.
I was tense, waiting for the last rider to come in, but the men were full of high spirits. We had lost only 147 or our men, while the enemy had lost almost all 400. It was a small but important victory and for many of my men, the first. They wanted to drink and dance.
As the festivities began, I ate a little food, drank a little wine and then retired to try and sleep. But sleep would not come. Thoughts of Shakira kept filling my mind and I was hot from thinking about her body. Her breasts and her belly and her breath on my face. After a while, I resigned myself to the fact that I would not sleep and got up. I put a cape over my head to disguise myself and as I often did, passed among my men like this, to hear what they were thinking and share in their experience. At one of the fires, I had to halt. I was so amused by what was going on. They were singing a bawdy song, which I hadn’t heard before, “The Princess Lay.”
Over the next few days, I would often find myself humming the catchy tune of the ditty. It went something like this:
Oh, The Princess lay a-sleeping,
On a hot a cloudless day.
The Princess lay a-sleeping,
On a bed of hay.
Many’s the time shepherds passed by.
But all of them did not know where she did lie.
But young Mr Roger the Rabbit man,
He was as quick as he’s sly.
Roger the Rabbit man he did come,
Looking for a cob or a buck.
But when he heard some moaning,
He parted the hay for a look.
There he saw her a laying,
Fast asleep on her back.
She seemed to be a dreaming,
And he looked this way and that.
Seeing he was not watch-ed,
He paused for a closer look.
He saw that her dress was lac-ed,
And he first undid the knot.
First she did moan some,
And then she moaned some more.
But Roger undid the first string,
And then, two thee, four.
Oh The Princess lay a-sleeping,
On a hot a cloudless day.
The Princess lay a-sleeping,
On a bed of hay.
Many’s the time shepherds passed by,
But all of them did not know where she did lie.
But young Mr Roger the Rabbit man.
He was as quick as he’s sly.
He went on and on and she did moan,
But never did he ever stop.
He carried on until she was stripped,
And he was as hot as hot.
He helped her out of her sleeves and skirt,
But still her eyes were full closed.
She seems a little uncomfortable,
So he started to hold her close.
Oh The Princess lay a-sleeping,
On a hot a cloudless day.
The Princess lay a-sleeping,
On a bed of hay.
Many’s the time shepherds passed by,
But all of them did not know where she did lie.
But young Mr Roger the Rabbit man,
He was as quick as he’s sly.
Then he did what a man should do,
And held her full in the moon.
But then her belly started to swell,
And she did start to swoon.
She first said it was fever,
Then too much on her plate.
And then that was it, she had no more tales,
So said it was a bold Dragoon.
&nbs
p; Oh The Princess lay a-sleeping,
On a hot a cloudless day.
The Princess lay a-sleeping,
On a bed of hay.
Many’s the time shepherds passed by,
But all of them did not know where she did lie.
But young Mr Roger the Rabbit man,
He was as quick as he’s sly.
“Hi ya mate. Get drunk. Tomorrow may be your last day.” One of the soldiers passed me a flagon of beer and I tilted it back and drank long and hard. It was true. I needed a drink. Further back along the lines there were some men playing a game with a leather ball. There was a lot of loud singing going on and a lot of drunken men. On my way back to my tent I stopped at a sentry post on the left flank.
“Anything moving?”
“Nah, mate. Won’t be tonight, I reckon. Korim’s army has had a rough time of it. They’ll want to be licking their wounds.”
Closing the flap of my tent to keep out the cool autumn night chill, I took off my mail shirt and cotton tunic and lay on the rolled out bed. Within moments I was asleep.
I woke with a start. I had been dreaming. It was still dark so I lay on my back and thought about the dream. There had been a great struggle for something and just when I thought I had lost it, I found myself on a narrow path, like a mountain path. I kept asking myself where it was but I didn’t know what it was I was searching for. I just knew I had to find it. Then I saw two azure blue precious stones on the path and I bent to pick them up. They sparkled as I looked at them and I felt safer. Then I must have woken up. What were the blue stones?
I thought about the previous day’s battle and suddenly I remembered the leader who had escaped. Had he been caught? I leaped up and rushed outside the tent. Why had I not been woken? I asked one of the guards outside my tent if the last scout had come back.
