The Stonegate Sword

by Harry James Fox

  The east side was more of a problem. The cliffs vanished a mile or two southeast of the northern end of the mesa, and from there on the way was guarded only by a steep hill that ran to the southeast. The hill could be ascended at many points by horse or foot. To the extreme southeast, an ancient highway gave easy access. An army could easily march up that road ten abreast. In fact, that was the way that Don had used when coming from Ariel. And that was a logical invasion route. To reach the mesa that way, a force would have to circle north and east of the mesa, and then attack to the northwest. The march would be fifty miles if the troops stayed on good highways or half of that if they took back-country trails. But the precipitous climb up the flanks of the mesa would be entirely avoided.

  “The ground is very good for defense,” commented Blackie. “That is in our favor. But it is a huge area to defend.”

  “Let me show you the most dangerous area to the west,” said Danny.

  They mounted their horses and rode across the flat mesa top. They looked the area over and the situation was not good. The gorge with the creek and a waterfall was easily defensible. There were quantities of boulders that could be rolled down on an advancing foe, and the way was narrow. The matter was quite different where the ancient road gained the top. The hillside was steep, but there was a quarter-mile front that would have to be defended to prevent infantry from reaching the top. All three horse troops would not be nearly enough for a shield wall of that size. Don’s heart sank. This was not going to be easy.

  That evening, Danny explained that they had sent a scout at regular intervals to retrieve a message from a buried jar near a field south of Junction. As instructed, they had always left money in exchange for the message. The messages had been in code, and they had been relayed to the House of Healing by heliograph. Danny did not know what the messages had said.

  “Apparently they have been useful,” said Don. “Abel seems to know much about what is happening in Junction. This must have been his source.”

  “We have gathered a message about two times a week for the past six weeks,” Danny said. “Tomorrow night we will send a small party down again.”

  “What is the east side of the mesa like?” asked Blackie, after a long silence.

  “Many places to climb up. Also much trees,” Danny answered. “Hard to see riders coming until they are close to the top. This could be a way for the enemy to come at us.”

  “Then there is the road that we used,” Don added.

  “Yes, there is that. It is the easiest way,” Danny answered.

  They spent an hour discussing ways that they might trick and defeat a superior force. It was obvious that Danny did not like complicated strategies. He believed in issuing very general orders and letting the scouts react as the situation developed. But they all agreed that they should keep the presence of Bow Troop secret until they were ready to spring a trap. All patrolling would be done by Diné scouts for the time being.

  That night Don dreamed that he was trapped on top of a pinnacle, with enemy soldiers taunting him and daring him to come down. Great black ravens were circling his head and their croaking calls were so loud that they shook his perch. He could feel the rock crumbling under his feet, and he looked down to the hungry tips of spears below. He awoke in a sweat to find the cabin cold and still. He had a difficult time finding sleep again.

  †

  The next skirmish happened at dawn the next morning, though Don did not learn of it for some hours. The Diné scouts returned, looking for all the world like they had returned from a hunting trip. They had a captured Raider pony, and he was carrying two haunches of what looked like the hind quarters of an elk. Several others were distributed among the scouts—eight in all. The patrol leader, a tall young man named Ben, dismounted and came up to the camp bearing a roll of what looked like mail. He threw it down on a blanket by the fire and began with a report of what had happened.

  In the meantime, Thad had begun treatment of several wounded. None were seriously hurt, but he did have to draw another arrowhead from a warrior’s calf.

  The report did not take too long. There had been a meeting engagement, but this time it was the Raiders that were caught by surprise. They had ridden full into a blizzard of Diné arrows, and had immediately turned and fled. Four ponies had fallen. Three of the riders had been rescued and one left to his fate. In the short chase that followed, another Raider had been killed and his pony captured. When the story had been told, everyone present sat quietly for a minute or two.

  Finally, Don spoke. “So losses on both sides were light.”

  “Yes. Ben is upset. The Raiders were all wearing mail shirts. Most arrows bounced back. Wasted many arrows trying to hit riders. He would aim at ponies if he could do it over.”

  Ben turned over a purse to Danny. Danny examined it with a smile. “Good. More money to pay the spy!”

  They unwrapped the bundle and saw that it was two mail shirts, somewhat bloodstained. They were very well made, and light, perhaps weighing seven or eight pounds. But they only covered the area from shoulder to waist, and the sleeves were short, only half-way to the elbow. A couple of broken links were the only obvious sign of damage.

  Blackie pointed out the broken links. “See here. The arrows did break links, but all strength of the arrow was lost. Two arrow strikes in the same place would penetrate, but that is not easy to do.” He looked up at Ben. “This does make our job harder. Only a crossbow would penetrate this mail, and if they were much over a hundred yards away, I am not sure a crossbow would do it. But bodkin points have a chance of penetrating, come to think of it. We brought some with the supplies.”

  The warriors had turned the meat over the two elderly men who were camp cooks. One was already slicing meat thin to make jerky. Another was fixing a haunch on a spit over coals from the breakfast fire. Blackie said, “That must have been an unusually large elk.”

  Ben answered, and though his mastery of the Common Tongue was halting, he was understandable. “Not elk. Pony. Good meat. Sin to waste it.”

  Don and Blackie glanced at each other, and then shrugged. Horse meat was not an unusual dish in combat conditions. They would eat it and be glad of it.

  “It was too bad that you could not have taken the Raider alive,” Blackie said, as though he was thinking out loud. “The one they left behind, I mean. We could have questioned him.”

  “We question him,” said Ben. “We promise him a quick death if he talks.”

  Danny nodded. “That was the best offer we could give him, Donald. We want the Raiders to fear us. That is why we came north.”

  Don realized that he was in no position to criticize the Diné. “What did he say?”

  “He say that they have a thousand heavy horse soldier and five hundred scout like him. He say that the army waits for General Logan—then they will attack.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  “Numbers too big, maybe.”

  The meeting broke up for a few minutes while Danny and Wilson went out and talked to each of the scouts. They inspected the wounded men and horses. The scouts were excited and happy. They had several enemy shields that seemed to have been taken as trophies, since they had little use for them. They preferred their own small round shields. They were soon sitting in a circle around the cook fires and having a late breakfast.

  Blackie took a mount of Bow Troop and the scouts and rode off to the mesa edge where he could observe Palisade with Don’s binoculars. Dating from the Empire, these far-seeing glasses gave a great advantage in the field. Ariel had given Danny two pair for his scouts, and Don had yet another pair that he kept in a padded case in his saddlebags. These were precious, since the secret of making them had been lost.

  †

  That evening, Carl and the Lances arrived. The hundred miles had taken them a bit over two days. They had simply rid
den down the Kolaroo Valley and had gone up a side canyon, following a highway to the mesa top. Roads were good all along the way and there was no sign of enemy. Don quickly told Carl the latest news as they began setting up their camp. They had about a week’s supply of food but no scouts, and Don asked why, when Carl handed him a long message from Robert.

  “We brought twenty crossbowmen from Ariel,” Carl explained. “But their horses were out of condition and could not stand the pace that we set. So we left Slim and three mounts of Blades with them, as well as twenty scouts. They will be camping not far from where the road leaves the Kolaroo, and should be here by noon tomorrow. They have about a dozen pack horses with them.”

  “Why did they not send back my mount of Bows?”asked Blackie.

  “They had not arrived when we left, Blackie. So Robert assembled an extra mount from replacements to bring you up to strength. They came with me. You can trade back when we return.”

  Don calculated quickly as he accepted Robert’s note. He now had two full troops and one that was under-strength. Robert had kept another forty scouts and less than one horse troop.

  The defensive problem that they faced on the mesa was even more complicated. The crossbowmen were mounted, and so could move quickly to use their deadly fire to deny an area to the enemy. But what area, and how could they be combined with the much faster scouts and troopers? Don quickly read the message from Robert.

  Robert’s message gave a list of men and supplies that he was sending, as well as some general suggestions for defending the mesa. In Robert’s view, enemy infantry was the greater threat. A major advance could not be stopped. But it could be blunted, and the enemy taught to fear. The enemy horse could move much faster and posed an immediate danger. Robert had sent a half dozen shovels along and suggested that a hasty barrier to enemy horse could be dug if a suitable spot could be found. Along with food, he had sent a cage of pigeons, a spool of woven cord, and a large supply of quarrels for the crossbows and arrows for the horse troops and scouts, including the Diné. Some of them were captured Raider arrows, which Don appreciated. He would be glad to give them their arrows back!

  †

  The next contact with the enemy was a bit farther south. This time, the Raiders had traded arrows with a Diné patrol and then had retired in apparent confusion. The Diné had not taken the bait and held their ground. A column of about twenty heavy cavalry charged at them from their flank. The Diné retired in good order, and because the way was steep, had little trouble keeping ahead of them. They lured the cavalry around a spur at the base of the mesa and past a dense grove of spruce and fir.

  The Ariel archers were hiding in the grove. They allowed the Raiders to charge by, and then fired a volley of crossbow bolts into the massed heavy cavalry from point-blank range. Almost every bolt found a mark. The crossbows were slow to reload, but the enemy wasted that time futilely trying to charge into the dense trees. The second volley emptied most of the remaining saddles, just as the Lances came out of another grove of trees and took the survivors on their left flank. It was soon over, and the Lances then joined the Diné in hunting down the Raiders. As far as they could tell, none escaped. It proved that the crossbows were effective at close range. It also was a blow sure to sting the enemy.

  Don had not joined in the battle. He had kept his eyes on the signal flags flying atop the mesa to give warning of the approaching foe and had winded his war-horn to signal the charge of Lance Troop. Carl and Wilson and their sturdy followers had done the rest. Blackie and the Bows had been held in reserve and were not involved.

  Twenty of the twenty-two heavy cavalrymen were killed, as well as seventeen Raiders. They took two alive, and one appeared to be the leader of the unit. Don insisted that they be taken back to the camp for questioning, much to the annoyance of Wilson. The Diné had not hesitated in dispatching the last remaining Raider, for a total of eighteen dead. As before, the Diné butchered the fallen horses and ponies and used the captured stock to haul the meat back to camp. They captured fifteen ponies and twelve horses. The rest of the enemy mounts had been either killed outright or had to be humanely destroyed. One lancer was killed, a lad from Ariel. A Diné scout had lost his right hand in battle and died from loss of blood. The other wounds were trifling. One Lance Troop warhorse was killed, and several others had cuts. Don was grateful that the losses were no worse.

  Danny seemed surprised when he greeted them. Earlier, he had shaken his head at the complexity of the plan, but agreed to the use of his men. They often used the tactic of false retreats to draw an enemy into ambush. But the use of crossbowmen firing from mere feet off the trail—Don could tell that it all sounded risky to his friend. Maybe it was, but it had worked.

  On the other hand, the idea of the signal flags was Danny’s alone, and he had personally directed the lifting of the flags that told the size of the force approaching. The flags solved the problem of how to communicate information from the outpost on the mesa top to troops in the valley below. Don had stationed a bugler there also, to give audible warning. Slim and the Blades had gone scouting to the east, to learn the country. The Blade troopers had spent the rest of the time cutting wooden stakes, fire-hardening them, and sharpening them to a keen point.

  The day being cloudy, Don decided to use one of the messenger pigeons. He composed a message on thin paper, put it in a metal tube attached to the bird’s leg, and sent the tough little flier on its way. The Diné had laughed and suggested another use for a tasty bird, but it was all in good-natured fun. Don and his men were becoming more accepted by the Diné, now that they had fought and bled together. It was a solemn ceremony when they laid the two fallen young men to rest, shoulder to shoulder. Blackie had led in a prayer, and Wilson had given a eulogy, quite eloquently. When it was over, Don could hear some Lance troopers making a vow to come back and transport their friend for reburial in Ariel. Don hoped that this would happen, but he had his doubts.

  †

  Blackie and Carl had questioned the prisoners that evening. They confirmed that the heavy cavalry numbered close to one thousand. When directly asked, they reported that Balek Brown was one of the commanders, and was in charge of all the scouts. Don had to insist that these were Ariel captives and would not be executed in the field. Danny was displeased but said little.

  The next morning they sent the captives on the way back to Ariel with half of the captured horses and the captured weapons and armor. The packers were in charge of the train of riderless mounts, whether carrying a pack or not. They were guarded by a detachment of ten scouts. This time, Don could not spare troopers for guard duty.

  Some of the Lance troopers had removed the mail armor from the enemy war horses and fashioned chest protectors for their own mounts. The one Ariel horse lost had been killed by an enemy war spear in throat. Because that amount of mail only weighed a few pounds, Carl had allowed it. He refused to allow anyone to use the full mail protection that the enemy had used for their horses, since the entire armor weighed nearly forty pounds—a significant burden.

  The rest of the captured horses they kept for remounts. The ponies were kept for packing and a walking emergency food supply. They also kept the war spears, and issued them to the scouts. They knew that the next probe by the enemy would probably be a probe in force! And they now knew of the presence of heavy cavalry.

  Observers from the mesa top reported a large number of horsemen forming up in Palisade as though getting ready to take to the field. The Diné scouts at the base of the mesa had no contact, and the observers on top had seen no enemy on the trails below. Clearly they had a reprieve, and they made the most of it.

  Slim kept his small troop on top of the mesa as a rapid reaction force. All of the rest of Don’s troops went down the same steep trails to the northeast valley floor. Using the shovels plus the captured spears, helmets, and anything else they could find, they began constructing a k
illing ground. The concept was that of a tiger trap. They dug a ditch four feet deep and four feet wide, for about forty yards, to block a narrow point on the main trail. At the ends, the ditch was dug a bit narrower and not as deep, since they ran out of time, but in the middle, for thirty feet or so, it was six feet wide and as much deep. Fortunately, the ground was not too rocky.

  Nearly two hundred fifty men can do a surprising amount of work in just one day. Those not digging spent their time weaving a mat out of saplings and lashing them together with the woven cord that Robert had sent. The bottom of the ditch was lined with the sharpened, fire-hardened stakes, well planted, point up. Then the ditch was covered with the light mats that were then hidden with a layer of twigs and pine needles. It took about ten hours. The Diné had done little digging, but their ability to camouflage the ditch was uncanny. The ditch was not straight. It was in a broad “U” shape with the rounded end pointing uphill. Left of the ditch (from the point of view of an observer moving up the valley to the southeast) was a dense grove of spruce. To the right was a jumble of slide rock, scree and boulders. Beyond the ditch, the trail opened into a small meadow, about one hundred yards in diameter. The main trail led through the area. A narrow trail that threaded its way through the boulders on the right allowed slow passage around the ditch, and there was a similar narrow and torturous trail through the dense grove of trees. The crossbowmen made hiding places in the rocks on the right, enough for ten of their number. The other ten would be placed in the trees on the left. Perhaps the Bows could stand there and add their longbows to the battle. That was yet to be decided.

  As they examined the field, Don commented to Blackie. “The idea for this comes from an ancient battle called Agincourt.”