“From the ends,” shouted Tzu-chan. “Now!”
From each end of the trench works, a Lanoirian archer unstrung his bow and hurried towards the center. When the two men reached Tzu-chan, they dropped to their knees. One of them entered the small tunnel, while the other waited his turn.
“Next!” shouted Tzu-chan as he let fly another arrow.
Two more men hurried towards the tunnel, while the rest of the Lanoirians continued to fire at the ever-closer enemy. Tzu-chan continued to shout for men to come towards the tunnel so that there was only one man waiting to enter it at any given moment. Eventually, the Zarans gained entry to the ends of the trench and began flowing towards the center. The Lanoirian archers then had to divide their time between those still climbing the hill and those coming along the trench. It was a sign that the trench had outlived its usefulness. The true purpose of the trench had been to trick the Zarans into engaging in battle by making them think their victory would be quick and easy. It was also meant to give the Lanoirians a chance to bloody the enemy. It had accomplished both goals.
“Those with children come now!” shouted Tzu-chan.
Only a dozen of the one-hundred men left in the trench hurried towards the center. The rest of the men slowly closed ranks, conceding the rest of the trench to the enemy. When Tzu-chan saw the last of the twelve men waiting his turn to enter the tunnel, he shouted out, “Next!”
Two more Lanoirians unstrung their bows and hurried towards the tunnel. Tzu-chan gritted his teeth as the Zarans reached the edge the trench. As one of the chosen men entered the tunnel, Tzu-chan ducked down and spoke quickly to the man waiting his turn.
“You are the last,” he said. “Seal the tunnel after you get through. Be quick about it. The end is here.”
Without waiting for an acknowledgement, Tzu-chan rose again, automatically nocking an arrow as he did. He released the arrow directly into the face of a Federation soldier climbing over the berm. All around him he heard the cries of pain, not only from the Zaran invaders, but also from his own men. He quickly nocked another arrow, but he never got to pull it back. A Zaran sword sliced into his side, and Tzu-chan’s world turned black.
* * * *
Far to the south, one-thousand Federation soldiers slipped out of the woods and headed across the valley towards the tail of Lizard Hill, hoping to secretly outflank the Lanoirians. They were halfway across the valley floor when three-hundred Lanoirian cavalrymen charged towards them. The counterattack was unexpected, and the Federation soldiers reacted in confusion. Some of the Zarans frantically sought to string their bows while others turned and ran back towards the trees. Still others drew their swords and prepared to defend themselves against the horsemen.
The Lanoirians ignored those fleeing the battlefield and concentrated on the potential archers, while trying to avoid those prepared to defend the column. Their first run through the line was devastating, a trail of Federation bodies marking their path, but the Zarans recovered quickly. As the horsemen turned for another run, the Federation soldiers quickly formed a line of defense. Shields came up, bows were strung, and arrows nocked. The horsemen ran into a withering fire before they realized that their tactic was no longer wise. Of the three-hundred horsemen who had charged into the Zaran line, only half of them survived to come out the other side. The surviving riders turned towards the tail of Lizard Hill to regroup.
The Federation regiment reformed their column to defend against another attack, but the Lanoirians did not return. The Federation colonel eventually took stock of his regiment. He had less than half of his men remaining fit for battle, and the enemy still lingered between him and his objective, which was no longer a secret. He decided that his goal was now unattainable and ordered a return to the safety of the main column.
* * * *
At the north end of the valley alongside Lizard Hill, a full regiment of Federation soldiers filed out of the trees. They moved in an orderly manner across the valley and angled towards the neck of Lizard Hill. Their mission was to secretly outflank the Lanoirians. The colonel leading the small column kept his eyes on the ridge of Lizard Hill to see if there was anyone up there paying attention to his column, but the main attack had already started, and it looked like the Federation army was already carrying the day. With confidence that the Lanoirians were being beaten into submission by the main prong of the attack, the colonel ordered his men into the notch with intentions of climbing the rear of the hill. The first company was just through the notch when the attack started.
Arrows streamed out of the trees atop both the head and the body of the lizard. Every man in the first company fell to the ground. The colonel threw himself to the ground, thinking that the others had done the same. The move saved his life. The second round of arrows struck the second company, and all around the colonel, men fell to the ground, but it was not anything they did intentionally. The colonel stared at the bodies around him and saw that each man had an arrow in his body. With disbelief, the colonel gazed at the trees atop the head of Lizard Hill. He could see no one. He turned and looked back at his own column. He grimaced as he saw the confusion of his company commanders. Some of the men were still coming towards the notch while others were veering off to go around the head of Lizard Hill. He wanted to jump up and shout at them, but he knew that was just asking for an arrow. Instead, he merely watched as the third company came under fire.
The air sizzled as one-hundred arrows sliced through it. The colonel watched in amazement as each of the arrows struck a body. The third company fell to the ground as a unit. He shook his head with disbelief and glared up at the head of Lizard Hill. He was staring at the ridge when the fourth volley of arrows cut through the air. He saw the elves step out from behind trees and fire, instantly stepping back into concealment. Knowing that the elves were busy nocking another arrow, the colonel rose and dashed towards the head of Lizard Hill. He dove for the concealment of a large boulder that had fallen down the hill sometime in the past just as another volley of arrows sliced through the air.
“Retreat!” the colonel shouted. “The elves will cut you down! Retreat!”
He might as well have saved his breath. The balance of his regiment had scattered, with the bulk of the men charging towards the slope of the head. The soldiers scrambled up the hill, breaking the elven routine of picking off entire companies at a time. Elven bowstrings still sang, but the shots were singular in nature, and the colonel could hear the shouts of his men as they engaged the elves with their swords. The colonel rose to his feet and drew his sword. He raced up the hill to get into the battle, but an arrow slammed into his chest before he crested the ridge.
* * * *
Ly-fung stood silently listening to the sounds of battle coming from the trench just below the crest of Lizard Hill. He could not see the fighting, but the sounds let him know that the true battle was about to begin. He glanced around at the huge ring of abatis enclosing him and the remnants of the Lanoirian army and bit his lip nervously. The large trees had been felled with their tops towards the enemy to make it difficult for the Federation soldiers to enter the protected area, but Ly-fung knew that the protection was temporary. There were less than fifteen-hundred Lanoirians inside the abatis ring, and the enemy numbered almost twenty-thousand. It would only be a matter of time before the Lanoirians were overrun, but Ly-fung was at peace with his decision to stand before the invaders. It was not that he was not scared; he was very frightened, but he had vowed to halt the advance of the Zarans, and that is what he intended to do. All of the men had been given the choice of staying with the wounded from the previous day’s battle, and several hundred had accepted that offer. Their task was to harass the rear of the Federation column and then safeguard their makeshift camp where the wounded were being kept.
For a brief moment, Ly-fung thought about that decision and wondered if he had made the right choice. His thoughts were interrupted by one of the men crawling out of the tunnel that extended to the trench. Unlike the
other men who had come through the tunnel, this man called for help to roll a large boulder into the mouth of the tunnel. Ly-fung dropped his bow and ran forward to aid the man. Together they pushed the boulder into place, sealing off the tunnel. Ly-fung returned to his station and picked up his bow.
“It will begin now,” he said softly to the men gathered near him. “Get ready.”
It was an unnecessary command. Each Lanoirian already stood prepared for the coming onslaught. Within minutes, the distant cries of pain and death died out, an eerie stillness taking hold over the forest. Ly-fung nocked an arrow and stared through the branches of the abatis, searching for the first of the Zarans to crest the hill. He did not have to wait long.
The red-clad soldier came into view as he scrambled over the crest and stood staring in confusion at the abatis before him. Ly-fung let his arrow fly between the branches of the abatis. His aim was true, and the arrow plowed into the Zaran’s chest. The Zaran screamed as his body pitched backward, but the sound of his scream was soon drowned out by a multitude of gasps and shouts as other Federation soldiers crested the hill and saw the bulwarks before them. Hundreds of Lanoirian arrows flew through the air, and the screams of the Zarans roared through the forest. Some of the Lanoirians shouted cheers as a whole line of Federation soldiers fell, but their enthusiasm was premature. Arrows began flying into the protected area, and Lanoirians began to fall.
Ly-fung saw the heads of Federation soldiers popping up along the crest and understood what was happening. “They are firing from below the crest!” he shouted. “Take cover!”
Ly-fung immediately followed his own advice and slid behind a tree. He nocked another arrow and moved into the open just long enough to select a target and let his arrow fly. He ducked back behind the tree wondering if his arrow had flown true. He had not stayed in the open long enough to verify his kill, and the air was so full of cries from men on both sides of the fight that listening for the cry of a particular victim was impossible. Ly-fung pushed the question from his mind as he nocked another arrow.
For the next hour, Ly-fung stepped into the deadly hail of arrows as quickly as he could nock his arrows and let them fly. He just as quickly ducked back behind the tree. There was no lack of targets as the Federation soldiers moved in closer and began hacking at the branches of the abatis in an attempt to break through the barrier. A shiver of fear raced up the Lanoirian’s spine. If the enemy succeeded in getting through the abatis, the end would come quickly for the Lanoirians. He reached for another arrow and found his quiver empty.
“Ly-fung,” called a soft, feminine voice that carried through the chaotic sounds like the clear pealing of a bell.
The Lanoirian archer turned and saw Rut-ki. The Knight of Alcea was dressed completely in black, and she was pulling her own quiver from her shoulder. She tossed the quiver to Ly-fung and retreated to the safety of a large tree. Ly-fung caught the quiver and nodded thanks to Rut-ki. He set the quiver down and stripped off his empty one before pulling hers over his head. As he turned once again to thank the Knight of Alcea, he saw Rut-ki break from the safety of her tree and race across the open ground. When he saw her fall next to the slain body of a comrade, he grimaced in horror, thinking an enemy arrow had hit her, but his mourning was premature. Rut-ki quickly sliced through the strap of the fallen man’s quiver before grabbing it and racing back to her tree. Ly-fung sighed with relief as he nocked an arrow to continue the fight.
It was not long after getting his new quiver that Ly-fung noticed arrows coming from another direction. One of them struck his tree slightly above his head, and the Lanoirian archer dropped to a squat. The Federation soldiers had managed to work their way around the edge of the barricade to the north, and Ly-fung had no doubt that the same would be true in the south. Although the abatis was still intact, the protected area was quickly growing smaller. He looked for a tree nearer the center that was not already occupied by a defender. He could not see one. When he turned towards Rut-ki, she waved for him to join her. Ly-fung did not hesitate. He picked up his empty quiver and raced across the open ground. Rut-ki made room for him behind her tree, but he could not imagine both of them seeking protection behind the same tree. Neither of them would be completely covered from enemy fire. When he arrived, he handed Rut-ki the empty quiver so that she would have something to hold her arrows.
“Thank you, Ly-fung,” the Knight of Alcea said calmly as she took the arrows from her liberated quiver and filled the empty one.
“I thank you, Rut-ki,” he replied, “both for the arrows and the safety of your tree, but I cannot stay here. There is not room for both of us.”
“The trunk is yours,” she replied with a smile as she pulled the full quiver over her head and positioned it. “I will take the upper limbs.”
“You will be seen,” Ly-fung said with alarm.
“Perhaps,” replied Rut-ki, “but can the Zarans reach such a height from beyond the abatis? We shall see.”
Without another word, the Knight of Alcea leaped upwards and snared a branch with her hands. She quickly pulled herself up and began climbing higher. Ly-fung followed her progress with awe and then realized from the enemy shouts that she had been seen. He quickly nocked an arrow and leaned around the tree to let it fly, but he did not immediately retreat to safety. With a defiant shout, he called attention to himself to distract the enemy from targeting the Knight of Alcea. It almost cost him his life. Three arrows slammed into the tree near his head, and Ly-fung dropped to the ground and crawled behind the tree.
As the day wore on, Ly-fung began to feel the strain of constantly firing arrows. His hands, arms, and shoulders ached from the simple task of pulling the bowstring back and letting it go. Sweat poured from his body from the exertion of leaping out to fire an arrow and leaping back to the protection of the tree. Twice he had had to scamper to the body of a fallen comrade to replenish his arrow supply, and he was out once again. He placed his back against the tree and slid down to sit upon the ground as his eyes scanned the area for another quiver of arrows. The simple act of resting for a moment made him realize how sore he was. He flexed his fingers wondering how many arrows he had sent into the enemy ranks, and his thoughts suddenly turned to the Knight of Alcea. Rut-ki had ascended the tree with a single quiver, and she had not returned for more arrows. He looked upward and saw Rut-ki descending the tree. She leaped from a low branch and landed next to him. He saw her empty quiver and blushed with embarrassment. He had not thought of resupplying her as she had done for him.
“I apologize,” he said softly. “I should have sent arrows up to you.”
“You could not,” Rut-ki said with a slight smile. “I was too high in the tree. I used my arrows sparingly, targeting only the officers. I think it has helped to keep the enemy confused and without direction.”
“What does it look like from up there?”
“It does not look good,” she replied candidly. “The Zarans are hacking away at the abatis from all four sides, and there are not enough of us left to do much about it.”
Ly-fung nodded silently. He had seen the mounting bodies of his comrades in the area around him, but he had not been sure if it was the same throughout the protected area. He sighed with despair. Colonel Wu-sang had told them that they would not survive the battle, so Ly-fung could hardly complain about his coming death, but he had hoped that their stand would last more than just a few hours.
“What if we burned the abatis?” he asked. “Wouldn’t that stop the Zarans from overrunning us?”
Rut-ki shook her head. “The fire would consume us before it hurt the enemy. Besides, I have only one jar of fire glue left, and it would be needed to start such green wood burning. All we would accomplish is giving the Federation a doorway to walk through the abatis when the flames died out. Do not despair, Ly-fung. The Battle of Lizard Hill is not yet over. Until the enemy finds a way through the abatis, they have not won.”
“But you said that there were not enough of us left to stop
them,” frowned Ly-fung. “How can it not be over then?”
Rut-ki smiled. “The sun is fading quickly. While the Federation might be tempted to continue hacking well into the night, I think they can be spooked into retreating until morning.”
“How?” asked the Lanoirian archer.
“While I have flown over the enemy before,” answered Rut-ki, “most of the Zarans have never seen a unicorn. The canopy was too thick yesterday when I dropped fire glue among them, but that is not the case here on Lizard Hill. With most of their officers dead, I think they might break ranks and run back to the safety of their column, but I must wait for it to be closer to sunset. The combination of the coming darkness and the strangeness of the unicorn must coincide.”
Ly-fung brightened and sat straight up. “Then I must replenish my arrows,” he said enthusiastically. “I must do my part to make them feel unwelcome up here.”
* * * *
“Ednor!” shouted General Kolling. “Get in here!”
The Baroukan colonel grimaced as the words reached his ears. He had been avoiding the general, but his luck had just run out. He turned and nodded in acknowledgement, but General Kolling had already turned to reenter the large command tent. Colonel Ednor turned back to watch the men of the 9th Corps straggle towards the camp. He sighed with resignation and marched towards the tent. He entered the tent and hesitantly approached the table set up in the middle of it.
13 Day War Page 53
