'One thousand warriors board the rafts and sail downstream. You will enter Cahokia by the river's edge, where there are no defences. You will move through the town toward the citadel. You will keep together and destroy any Dhegian force that is sent against you. You will not attack the citadel but you will ensure that nobody from inside escapes.'
Nodding assent, Chaytan chose the tribes who were to take part in the waterborne assault.
'Five hundred men will remain outside Cahokia. You will ensure no reinforcements come into the city and nobody leaves to summon help.'
Chaytan chose the tribes for that unpopular task.
'The rest of you will follow Chaytan and me. We will march into the city and take the citadel. Wamblee will send the best of his army against us. There will be tough fighting.'
The warriors did not look unduly concerned at the prospect of a tough fight. They grinned and nudged each other, raised their stone-headed axes and clubs and boasted of the great deeds that they would do and the Dhegian blood that they would spill.
'When do we go?' Chaytan asked.
'The men of the river assault leave here when the moon is at its apex. The men on patrols are already there; reinforce them. I will lead the main attack when the moon begins to fade.' Melcorka looked upward. 'This cloud cover will ease tonight and return tomorrow morning. By the time the heavy rains recommence, we will be inside Cahokia and then only God, or the Gods will be able to help us.'
With her orders given, Melcorka retired to her lodge. After so long without food and proper rest she was exhausted for although Eyota was immune from human frailties, she was not. She collapsed without a word and slept, and was only vaguely aware of the handsome, bare-chested man who looked over her.
Chapter Twenty
'Eyota.' Chumani kept her distance, still treating her with great respect. 'Eyota, it is time.'
Melcorka sat up on the pile of rugs. She looked around, dazed, wishing she could sleep for another hour at least. At this time of the morning she was at her lowest; irritable, tired and more depressed than she had felt for a long time. Why did she not just say that she was Melcorka, not Eyota, and allow these people to fight their own war? After all, she was not much older than Chumani, an island girl caught up in affairs that were well beyond her ken.
'Because you are needed! Now go and do your duty!' Bearnas voice was clear and crisp inside her head.
'Yes mother,' she replied automatically and rose. If duty meant death, then that was an end to all her troubles.
'Eyota?' Chumani held out a bowl of food and a gourd of milk.
Breakfast always made Melcorka feel better. She ate and drank without relish, fuelling her body more than enjoying the hurried meal. All the same, the fresh energy coursed through her. 'Thank you Chumani,' she said. 'What would I do without you?'
'I am your servant, Eyota,' Chumani said.
'You are my friend,' Melcorka contradicted her. 'Now; let's get these armies on the move and settle with Wamblee once and for all.'
'The first army is long gone,' Chumani said. 'The river warriors. I thought if best to let you sleep rather than wake you.'
About to say that she would have liked to wish them luck, Melcorka nodded instead. 'Thank you, Chumani. You did well.' There was no point in rebuking the girl for something well-meant that could not be changed.
Stumbling out of the lodge, she reached for the forehead-band and slipped it onto her head. Immediately she did so, her mind cleared, her eyes focussed and this place and these people were alien no longer. She was at home with them.
'Come warriors!' She heard herself shout. 'This is no time to lay mumbling and snoring within your furs! Arise and take your weapons! Chiefs and war captains, gather your men together; it is time to remove this great evil that has descended on our lands!'
As Melcorka spoke, she walked forward, confident that the tribes would follow her. Without looking behind her she altered from a slow walk to a fast march and then to a trot, feeling the ground shake as her army followed, each man in the midst of his tribe and each tribe in the place that Chaytan had allotted it. Eyota may be good at rousing speeches, raising morale and the overall strategy of the war, but Chaytan was the tactician who knew the weaknesses and strengths of each tribe, and how to woo the chiefs into fighting for the cause. He was the glue and the sinews that fused the muscle and bone into a single entity.
The leader of an Oglala patrol stepped aside as Melcorka ran past. She heard him shouting encouragement, with his men joining in, and then she was trotting through the outskirts of Cahokia with some of the inhabitants running before her and others staring or standing to cheer and a few even hurrying to join her.
'To the citadel!' Somebody shouted and others took up the cry until the entire army was roaring the words.
'This is too easy,' Melcorka told herself. 'Where are the defenders? Where are the Dhegian warriors?'
As if in answer, the first arrow thrummed past her. The second hit the ground at her feet but at such a low trajectory that it bounced and skiffed harmlessly through the grass. After that came a dozen more and Melcorka saw the small Dhegian force that tried to bar her path. The Dhegian warriors stepped forward bravely and pulled back their bow-strings as a single unit. Each man aimed at Melcorka. She felt vulnerable; never had she missed Defender so much as she did at that moment. Instead, she increased her pace and shouted:
'I am Eyota of Cahokia!'
She saw two of the bowmen flinch; a third released prematurely so his arrow fell short and a fourth fell with a Mohawk spear transfixing his chest. The remainder stood their ground, aiming directly at her.
They fired. Melcorka saw the flight of arrows as if in slow motion and increased her speed yet again. One arrow grazed her left arm; another ripped her loin cloth and then she was among them with the captured Norse sword in her hand. It was no Defender, but she swung it right and left, feeling the jar of contact and hearing the gasp of a brave man in pain. She ran on, only dimly aware of the brief clash of contact and the yells as her army trampled the archers and ran on.
Now the streets were tighter packed, with alleyways between the houses where Dhegian warriors waited in ambush. Spears and arrows flew in both directions and the advance slowed as the allied tribes stopped to take revenge, or men dropped, wounded or dead.
'This will take longer than I thought,' Chaytan said.
'We will continue to the Citadel,' Melcorka said. 'Stick to the plan.'
'These are not elite Dhegian warriors,' Chaytan casually felled a man with his war club. 'They are ordinary soldiers, armed tribesmen and the like. The real test is ahead.' He glanced behind him. 'Yet already we are already bleeding men. By the time we reach the Citadel there may not be enough of us to defeat the Wall Guard and the Citadel Guard.'
'Eyota knows what she is doing,' Chumani said.
'So does your father,' Melcorka ducked as a spear whistled past her head. 'He is as good a warrior as any I have ever encountered.'
'We can leave the bulk of the warriors to fight their way through the streets,' Chaytan said. 'You and I and my Lakotas will forge ahead and kill Wamblee. Once he is dead the Dhegians will have no reason to fight.'
'Who will command these warriors?' Melcorka asked.
'Hotah of the Oglala,' Chaytan said at once. 'He is a good man, Eyota.'
'That is what we shall do,' Melcorka agreed.
Hotah was quite happy to be in charge of the bulk of the army. 'Kill the Dhegians!' he gave his orders, 'chase them into extinction and push forward to the citadel.'
'Come, Chaytan,' Melcorka unfastened her sword belt and let it fall on the ground. 'I have my sword; I have thrown away the scabbard. I will not sheath my sword again until Wamblee is dead, or I am.'
'You cannot die; you are Eyota,' Chumani said.
'Eyota cannot die,' Melcorka agreed. 'Melcorka, the woman whose body she is using, is as mortal as anybody else in this city.'
Chumani frowned. 'I do not understand. Are you Eyot
a or are you Melcorka?'
'I am both,' Melcorka said and smiled. 'And I don't understand it either. Now come on.' Holding the Norse sword in her right hand, she ran forward. She could not see the future; she did not think she would survive. It did not matter. Bradan was alive and her duty was to help these people remove a tyrant. What was death but only another step? She would see her mother again.
A group of Dhegian warriors ran toward them, clubs raised. Chaytan roared his war cry and a score of Oglalas charged the Dhegians. Leaving them to fight it out, Melcorka ran on, heading for the Citadel and ignoring anybody who was not directly in her path. She heard the hellish noise of war behind her, the crack of stone clubs on bone, the groans and screams of the injured and the triumphant yells of the victors.
'There is the citadel!' Chaytan said.
The great mound dominated the city, with the Wall Guards prominent every few steps along the defending stockade. Their spear-points glinted in the moonlight, a warning that they were alert and waiting for the coming assault.
'We are the Lakota,' Chaytan raised his voice. 'We go right over the wall and into the citadel. The other tribes will follow soon.'
There was a sudden uproar from the other side of the mound, a rising sound that included war-cries and the sound of battle.
'The river warriors have arrived,' Melcorka said with satisfaction. 'Now the defenders are split into two sections and the Wall Guards will have to watch all around.'
'We still have the Citadel Guards to face,' Chaytan reminded.
'I remember,' Melcorka said quietly. The Norse sword felt very clumsy in her hand.
The Wall Guards were restless, some peering toward the main tribal army and others shifting to look over their shoulders at this new noise behind them.
'The attack from the river has distracted them.' Chaytan said. 'Follow me!'
Rather than run, as Melcorka had expected, Chaytan stepped forward slowly so he did not attract immediate attention. The Lakota swarmed up the lower slopes of the mound to the first terrace, where they halted for a few moments to gather strength for the next stage.
'This time we go right over the wall and onto the citadel,' Chaytan said.
The Lakotas nodded, holding up their clubs and spears. Their war-painted faces were like a hundred hawks; their eyes gleamed with battle lust. Melcorka gripped her sword, felt a mixture of fear and excitement and waited for Chaytan to give the word.
'Follow me and remember that Eyota is with us.' Chaytan said. His sudden grin took Melcorka by surprise. 'Some people would say that this is a good day to die. I think that this is a good day to win!'
The Lakota laughed quietly.
Chaytan rose, took a deep breath and ran up the steep slope as if he was a youth of twenty rather than a man with a daughter of that age. 'Hokahey!'
It was the first time that Melcorka had heard the Lakota war cry. It sounded good in her ears. She repeated it:
'Hokahey!'
Chaytan was already at the base of the stockade, his great figure clambering up the log and dirt barrier.
Melcorka followed. She was no longer scared; rather she felt a sense of elation as if she was fulfilling her destiny. Was that her own emotion, or that of Eyota? She could not tell. She only knew how she felt as she scrambled up that steep grassy slope to the base of the palisade.
The last time she had been here, silence was necessary. Now there was noise and confusion all around, with the Lakota yelling their war-cry and the Wall Guards shouting back. A spear whizzed past her, to transfix a Lakota warrior. The man fell back, plucking at this thing that protruded from his chest. Another spear followed, and another, each one transfixing a Lakota warrior. The ranks of the Lakota were thinning as bodies piled up at the base of the palisade. The assault was already in difficulty.
Chaytan lifted his club. 'With me, Lakotas! Hokahey!'
'Hokahey!' The Lakota yelled in unison and buttressed by their war cry, they threw themselves at the palisade.
A Wall Guard threw his spear directly at Chaytan, who deflected it with his club, reached up, grabbed the man by the throat and hauled him face down among the Lakota, who finished him off with a flurry of blows. First over the palisade, Chaytan swept aside another of the black-and-white-faced guards and helped Melcorka over. She found she was trembling, yet managed a shaky smile.
'Hokahey,' she said weakly.
'Hokahey,' Chaytan replied with a grin and ran along the parapet to close with the defenders. More of the Lakota swarmed up the wall and fanned out left and right to grapple with the Wall Guard.
'Get close!' Melcorka shouted. 'That way they can't throw their spears.'
The citadel lay before them with its barracks and large buildings, its' wide roads and the great palace where Wamblee lived.
Melcorka stopped at Chaytan's elbow. 'Leave your Lakota to deal with the Wall Guard. We must go for the head of the snake himself.'
Bathed in Dhegian blood, Chaytan did not hear her. He dodged the thrust of a Wall Guard spear and swung his club underhand, catching the guard a shrewd blow in the groin before finishing him off with a mighty crack to the skull.
'Chaytan! On to Wamblee! Your men can clean up the rubbish!'
Chaytan looked round, bleeding from a cut to his arm and his eyes dazed with the lust for fighting.
'Come on Chaytan: Hokahey!'
'Hokahey,' Chaytan mouthed, and followed Melcorka down a steep flight of steps that led from the parapet to the interior of the citadel. Melcorka heard others following her but did not look round to see who they were.
'Eyota,' Melcorka had not seen Chumani in the assault. She was at her side, pointing forward. 'The Citadel Guard.'
They stood in an oblong block; one hundred of the finest warriors in the continent, with their falcon-feathered head-dresses nodding in the faint breeze and their faces set and grim. With spears strapped diagonally across their backs, oblong shields held on left arms and a stone-headed mace in their right hands, they looked as formidable a body of fighting men as any Melcorka had seen.
A captain stepped in front and raised his right hand. Immediately each man of the Citadel Guard took a single pace to the left and began to beat the shields with the maces in a rhythmic thrum-thrum-thrum that echoed around the citadel.
'Hokahey!'
The cry came from behind Melcorka. She saw a group of young Lakota braves charge forward, yelling.
'No!' Chaytan's order was disregarded as the young men ran at the Citadel Guard. They may as well have tried to break down a granite cliff. With high courage, they threw themselves forward, only for the guards to raise their shields and block the wild swings of the Lakota clubs. The Lakota tried again and failed again. The Citadel Guard captain gave a single word of command and the Guard swung their clubs, each man aiming for the Lakota warrior on his right, striking the unguarded side of their opponent. Every Lakota fell, and the second rank of the guard finished them with their spears. The captain gave another single-word order and the Citadel Guard returned to their original position. They had not lost a man.
'That was impressive,' Melcorka said, inwardly comparing these men with the Picts of Fidach she had fought beside in Alba. 'These Guardsmen are soldiers, not warriors. They fight as a unit.'
'It will be a hard job to get past them,' Chaytan said.
'We need somebody with their level of discipline,' Chumani said.
'How do we find them?' Chaytan ducked as a Wall Guard threw a spear at him. 'Or perhaps we can conjure them out of the ground?' He looked at Melcorka as if expecting her to produce a miracle.
'I might know,' Chumani said.
'You?' Chaytan laughed. 'You are a fine daughter but even you cannot create soldiers like the Citadel Guard!'
He was speaking to himself for Chumani had already disappeared.
'We can't stand here watching,' Melcorka said. 'We must do something.' She was not sure what. If she had Bradan here, he would give sage advice. If she had Defender, she would charge forward a
nd slice through the Citadel Guard; as it was she was alone with five score disciplined warriors barring her path to Wamblee. She took a deep breath and prepared to order what men she had to unleash a volley of spears.
'There they are!' That was Chumani's voice. 'There are the men who stole your wives; they are bedding them even now while the tribes slaughter the Wall Guard and you face the Lakota! See the lust on their bloated faces.'
Melcorka gave a grim smile. Chumani was addressing the Citadel Guard and pointing to the barrack hut that held the Veterans. She had opened the huge front doors so the interior was exposed and the Citadel Guard could see the middle-aged men ignoring the fighting as they concentrated on love-making with the nubile young women they had taken only a few weeks before.
'Chumani has a brain in her head,' Melcorka said. 'Look at the Citadel Guard.'
Trained to fight for Wamblee, the Citadel Guard was still unhappy about losing their women. While most continued to watch the tribes battling with the Wall Guard, a significant number had turned to watch the Veterans.
'Now's our chance,' Melcorka said. 'Chumani has disrupted their ranks.'
'Hokahey!' Chaytan lifted his war-club.
There was an answering yell of 'Hokahey' from behind him and then a greater, less uniform shout from a hundred throats as at last the united tribes poured over the palisade in the gap the Lakota had made.
Chaytan led the charge, with some of the Lakota joining them and the front runners of the united tribes bunching behind them. Chumani's distraction had given them just sufficient opportunity for the Citadel Guard to waver, and with the disciplined front disrupted, Chaytan's men crashed into their ranks.
Melcorka thrust forward with her sword, felt the jar as a Guard parried with his shield, hauled it back for a slash and realised her blade was trapped in the wickerwork of the Dhegian shield. The Guard glared in triumph and twisted his shield sideways to try and knock the sword from Melcorka's grasp.
Falcon Warrior (The Swordswoman Book 3) Page 19
