13 Day War

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “Bledsoe will not surrender without being bloodied,” warned Alex, “but I think the parley is a good idea anyway. Having the King of Alcea visit him will let him know that he is the main focus of our concern. That will make him worry about the forces we might send against him.”

  “I am going with you,” Queen Tanya said to the king.

  “As are Alex and I,” declared Jenneva. “I also think Theos and Balamor need to be in a position to observe the parley in case something goes wrong.”

  “I can take the mages to an observation post,” offered David. “It looks down on the southern perimeter of the Federation encampment.”

  “Then that is where we shall parley,” stated the king. “Get a fairy off to the men of Tor and tell them to join forces with us as soon as they can.”

  The four Heroes of the Mage mounted their unicorns and set off down the trail to the Coastal Highway. Jenneva fashioned a flag of truce on the way to the enemy encampment, and a while later they halted near the southern perimeter. The Federation sentries gawked at the royal couple dressed in their gold-trimmed white armor, but it was Jenneva who rode forward.

  “King Arik of Alcea has requested a parley under a flag of truce with General Bledsoe and General Kozinski. Please inform the generals that the king awaits them.”

  A runner was sent to inform the generals, but word of the king’s arrival spread through the encampment like wildfire. Jenneva retreated to the side of the road while Alex positioned himself at the other side of the road. The king and queen sat alone in the middle of the Coastal Highway. A thick crowd of soldiers gathered at the barricade to get a glimpse of the Alcean king, and Alex grew tense. His hand slowly moved to a pouch on his belt, and he fisted a couple of Lanoirian stars. The two Federation generals soon arrived, but Alex’s eyes barely flicked towards them as he continued to scan the large crowd. His gut began to tighten, and Alex let out a slight sigh. It was enough to alert Jenneva to potential trouble. She strengthened the physical shields surrounding the royal couple.

  “I am General Bledsoe,” stated the leader of Team Miram, “and this is General Kozinski. Are you King Arik of Alcea?”

  “I am King Arik,” declared the king, “and this is Queen Tanya. We need to talk.”

  Suddenly, a knife flew out of the crowd towards King Arik. The knife impacted the invisible shield that Jenneva held and it fell to the ground. Even before the knife had completed it journey, Alex’s hand whipped out towards the barricade. A Lanoirian star hurtled through the air and impacted in the forehead of a Federation soldier. The soldier fell to the ground and the Federation soldiers shouted and drew their swords.

  “Stop!” shouted General Bledsoe, his voice loud and commanding.

  For a moment, no one moved. The general turned and glared at the soldiers around the body of the assassin

  “Take that body and hang it in front of my tent for all to see,” commanded the Baroukan general. “We stand under a flag of truce, and I will not have that disrespected. If there are some among you who knew of this dastardly attempt on the king’s life and did not prevent it, report to Colonel Sawar for punishment. If you do not report to the colonel, and I discover your knowledge, your body will also hang before my tent. Now disperse.”

  The gawkers quickly moved away from the barricade, but the sentries remained. General Bledsoe ordered them to leave as well and waited until everyone was gone before speaking.

  “I apologize for such disgraceful behavior, King Arik. I am pleased that you were protected. Shall we retire to my command tent?”

  “I prefer to speak here,” replied the king. “My message is short, and your camp needs no more excitement. I have come to request your surrender.”

  General Bledsoe smiled slightly and shook his head. “You are young for a king, but certainly not so foolish as you are making yourself appear. One doesn’t request a surrender; one demands it. Unless, of course, one is in no position to demand a surrender, and that is exactly where you find yourself, isn’t it, King Arik?”

  “The Federation’s invasion of Alcea is already a failure,” replied King Arik. “Of the twelve teams sent here from Zara, only four remain a threat. Yours is one of those four. It is my desire to end this foolishness with as little bloodshed as possible. You gain nothing by subjecting your men to warfare.”

  “So you say,” retorted the Baroukan general, “but four teams is more than enough to crush all of Alcea, and I find it impossible to believe that you have conquered eight Federation teams. If you are so all-powerful, why are you here requesting my surrender? Shouldn’t your massive armies annihilate my team and concentrate on the other three?”

  King Arik sighed with frustration. “I know why you have come to Alcea, General Bledsoe, but I doubt that you do. You think you are here to claim all of Alcea for the Federation, but your own people have betrayed you. The purpose of this war is to provide one-million tears to rejuvenate Alutar, the Great Demon. It matters little to Emperor Jaar’s master whether you win or lose as long as the bloodshed and suffering are great enough to produce those tears. My request for your surrender is meant to deny those tears to the Great Demon.”

  “It would seem to me,” countered General Bledsoe, “that you could accomplish your worthy goal by surrendering to me. No blood will flow, and no tears need be created. You defeat the will of Alutar, and I fulfill the mission given to me by Emperor Jaar.”

  “Emperor Jaar no longer rules the Empire of Barouk,” interjected Alex. “Someone is staging a coup and has replaced him with a double. Your real concern at this point should be supporting the heir against the usurper.”

  “I do not believe you,” scoffed the Baroukan general. “How could you possibly know these things? No ships have left the Sea of Tears in months.”

  “We have portals of our own,” revealed Alex, “and we don’t have to travel to Camp Destiny to use them.”

  General Bledsoe fidgeted as if he were suddenly anxious for the parley to end. Alex smiled.

  “Don’t waste your time sending men back to Miram,” warned Alex. “Your portals are no longer there. You have no way to return to Zara except through us. That is why we can afford to be free with the knowledge we share. You have no one to tell it to.”

  “Save the lives of your men, General Bledsoe,” urged King Arik. “I vow that they will be well-treated and generously-fed. Surrender to me.”

  “No,” the Baroukan general replied. “I have a duty to the Federation and the wherewithal to carry it out. I cannot in good conscience ignore my responsibilities. This parley is over.”

  The two generals turned and retreated.

  “I pushed too hard,” frowned King Arik.

  “No, Arik,” replied Alex. “General Bledsoe needs to be bloodied. In the meantime, you have given him much to dwell on.”

  As the Heroes of the Mage turned to leave the barricade, a fairy dropped out of the sky and landed on Alex’s shoulder.

  “General Whitman is dead,” reported Bitsy. “Team Mya is preparing to march on Tagaret.”

  “What of the Army of the West?” asked Jenneva.

  “They will not be in time to halt the advance,” answered Bitsy.

  “So,” sighed the king, “we are forced to react anyway.”

  “We are,” agreed Alex, “and we no longer have the luxury of trying to save the lives of the enemy soldiers. We either crush them quickly or we lose this war.”

  Chapter 44

  Seven Valleys

  General Mobami, Tedi, and Natia rode south after their meeting with General Barbone, but they did not rush as the rest of the Sordoans did. An hour later, they caught up to one group of Sordoan horsemen, and they stopped to talk.

  “Are your men ready?” asked General Mobami.

  “They are ready,” replied one of the horsemen.

  “Good,” replied the governor. “Your group will have the tail end of the 10th Corps. If it has already passed by and you are presented with the vanguard of the 22nd Corps, break off
the attack. We are only seeking to cripple Omirro’s men. Understood?”

  “Understood,” replied the horsemen.

  “A fairy will give you the order to attack,” the governor added as he started riding south again. “Good luck.”

  Tedi frowned in confusion as they continued southward. “There couldn’t have been more than one-thousand men there, Governor. Is that enough to bloody the 10th Corps?”

  Governor Mobami smiled. “The valley they will be attacking in is narrow, as are the next six valleys. I have divided up my men to attack in all seven valleys in quick succession. So quick, in fact, that Omirro’s cavalry will be racing from one attack to the next.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Natia. “Why would his cavalry move? I thought he had spread them out to protect all of the valleys?”

  “He has,” replied the governor, “but with a twist. The fairies overheard new instructions given to the Federation riders. Each Federation company has a horn, and they are to blow it when an attack occurs so that the cavalry can rally to counterattack. I have worked out an attack plan that will keep them riding instead of defending the column. The attack will begin in the center valley. It will be a large and sustained attack. Before it is over, the valley to the south of it will be attacked, and so on, right up to the vanguard. Those forwardmost valleys have more of my men assigned to them than the others. After the vanguard is attacked, our attack will resume in the center valleys and work towards the rear. There will be no Federation cavalry at all to repel the later attacks, so I can use less men in those valleys.”

  “The first attack group will have heavy losses then,” frowned Tedi.

  “It will,” the governor agreed solemnly, “but there is no way around that short of General Omirro surrendering, and that is not going to happen.”

  “Do you think he will surrender after the attacks?” asked Natia.

  “Truthfully?” sighed the governor. “I think a reasonable general would, but General Omirro will not. If we had been successful at getting General Barbone to surrender, Omirro might give in after the attacks, but that hasn’t worked out, either. No, Omirro will need more than one bloody lesson before he understands that his cause is hopeless.”

  “What if we could kill General Omirro?” asked Natia. “Would General Barbone surrender?”

  “Right now?” asked the governor. “I don’t think so. He has not yet come to grips with surrendering just the 22nd Corps, never mind the entire Team Caldar, but if General Omirro should happen to die during the upcoming attacks, I think Barbone might just capitulate. This coming round of attacks will show him that we can tear his team apart before he reaches Trekum, and he already knows that we have been speaking the truth to him. It is not far from there to realize that his cause is lost. I would try to have my most forward group kill General Omirro during the attack, but the general will not be foolish enough to be caught in any valley when the horns start blaring. He will keep confined to a forested section of the Coastal Highway where he is safe.”

  “He is in the vanguard then?” asked Tedi.

  Governor Mobami nodded. “He is surrounded by one-hundred horsemen.”

  “Won’t those riders rally to the attacks?” asked Tedi.

  “And leave the general unprotected?” The governor shook his head. After a moment of thought, his eyes brightened. “They will not abandon their protection of the general, but if the attack is timed properly, they could be drawn away. If we time the forwardmost attack to coincide with the general’s passing through that valley, the company protecting him will have to respond. They will be the only portion of the column between the general and my horsemen.”

  “So it is possible to kill Omirro?” asked Natia. “Why not do it?”

  “It is possible,” the governor replied hesitantly, “but not by my men. The company escorting the general will not be drawn off very far. They will position themselves between the general and my men. They will most likely form a cordon across the Coastal Highway between the general and the fighting until reinforcements arrive. That will leave Omirro open for an assassination, but it will take a rather brave individual to hide in the forest before the column arrives.”

  Natia frowned. “What is the catch? There is something that you are leaving out. It does not take a particularly brave person to hide in the woods and send an arrow into the general.”

  “His escort will not entirely desert him,” answered the governor. “That would be unacceptable. There will always be three of four riders to surround the general, and they will make him dismount and get in the center of them. We have already seen this on more than one occasion when they thought danger was near. No archer can shoot an arrow through a horse. It will take killing the general’s protectors and then the general before trying to flee, and fleeing will not be easy. Their outrage will demand a thorough pursuit.”

  Natia chuckled anxiously. “I feel as if you just set me up for that. Did you have this planned all along?”

  “No,” the governor replied solemnly, “and I am not suggesting that you attempt it. In all probability, the attempt will fail, but you asked me for my opinion.”

  “Adjust your schedule to accommodate the assassination,” stated Tedi. “We are already spilling more blood than I care for. If killing Omirro will hasten the end to this conflict, I will do it.”

  “Not without me,” declared Natia. “Don’t even think about leaving me behind.”

  Tedi smiled at his wife. “I would not think of going without you. We do this together or not at all.” He turned to the governor and said, “Show us where we need to be to accomplish our goal.”

  * * * *

  Colonel Verle was riding alongside General Omirro in the vanguard of Team Caldar when he heard the distant horn. The colonel and the general exchanged concerned looks.

  “Go see what it is,” ordered General Omirro.

  Colonel Verle nodded and turned his horse. He raced back along the Coastal Highway, foot soldiers hugging one side of the road to let the horsemen pass. He had to slow down well before reaching the area of commotion as other horsemen were also responding to the call. The congestion on the road irritated the colonel, and he shouted for the infantry to get off the road. The foot soldiers tried to make way, but there were just too many soldiers on the road to clear it completely without halting the entire column, and they had been ordered to keep moving unless they were directly under attack.

  The pace of the horsemen picked up a bit, and Colonel Verle finally heard the sounds of fighting. Having come all the way from the vanguard, Colonel Verle was among the last to reach the valley. When he broke into the open, he saw the Sordoan horsemen fleeing from the battle. Some of the 10th Corps cavalry were giving chase, but the colonel knew they would not go far. Their orders were to not stray out of sight of the column, and the chasers soon broke off contact and returned towards the column.

  Colonel Verle gazed around the valley. Hundreds of bodies littered the ground, both Sordoan and Zaran. Some horse bodies were scattered around the valley as were unmounted horses from both armies. He shouted for the horsemen to grab the free horses before they could wander off, but his order was never carried out. Before the men could comply, another horn blared in the distance. The response from the cavalrymen was immediate, and all of the riders surged towards the Coastal Highway.

  The colonel spurred his horse, determined not to be at the rear of the pack, but others had the same idea. Worse for the colonel, the pack now included the cavalrymen who had been at the rear of the column. Well over one-thousand riders tried to race down the road alongside the infantry. By the time the colonel made it to the next valley, the battle was already over. Once again, he could only gaze upon the dead and wounded. A puzzled frown fell over the colonel’s face as he pondered the timing of the two attacks. The two valleys were not that far apart, but they were far enough apart to preclude the same Sordoan warriors participating in both attacks. He nodded to himself, figuring that both attacks were mean
t to occur at the same time, but the Sordoans had not managed to coordinate it properly. That thought instantly dissipated at the sound of the third horn.

  As Colonel Verle joined the pack for the race to the next valley, a nagging thought surfaced. The attacks appeared to be heading towards the vanguard. If he could rally enough riders to follow him, he might be able to skip the next attack and reach the vanguard in time to repel the Sordoans before they struck there. The colonel stood up in stirrups and shouted as loud as he could.

  “Colonel Verle coming through! Clear the road! Rally to the vanguard!”

  The cavalrymen before him heard the shouting, and they understood the words, but there was little they could do about it. Unless the infantry yielded the road, the cavalrymen were forced to follow one another. The colonel seethed with frustration.

  “Halt the column!” he shouted. “Get off the road now!”

  The soldiers were confused. They had been ordered not to halt the march unless they were attacked, yet they recognized the colonel’s voice and sought to obey his command. The footmen near the colonel dutifully shuffled into the woods, and those behind them halted the column, but that did not ease the congestion. The soldiers before the colonel had not heard his command and they marched on until he repeated the call to halt. When he eventually reached the next valley, the colonel called for the cavalry to follow him and pressed forward towards the vanguard. The riders within the sound of his voice dutifully obeyed and followed the colonel, while those who had arrived earliest chased after the retreating Sordoans.

  Colonel Verle continued to shout at the foot soldiers to get off the road as he led the charge southward, and as he was the lead rider, it eased the flow for those behind him. Feeling good about anticipating the Sordoans’ next move, the premature sound of the fourth horn shot through his body like an arrow. He rose up in his stirrups and gazed along the road. In the distance he could see the Sordoans tearing into the infantry ranks, and he cursed silently. He was too late to head off the attack.