Sometime later I arrived with the main body of men, knees skinned and bruised from slipping on the damp rocks of the forest. I whispered for the archers to be sent into place. A few minutes later I heard the cry of men and the clash of weapons in the air. The night was now nearer to morning but as yet there was no light. The brief fray continued to my right but ended as abruptly as it began.
A runner found me more by feel than sight.
“The small hill was occupied and the archers were repelled with light losses. What orders do you have for them?” I thought a moment and instructed the runner to have the archers return to the main body and join in the wedge. They could be of no help as archers now. I also sent word for all of the 300 with me to form. We would now attack with all of our men the moment darkness lifted enough to allow it. Surprise was gone, there was nothing left but spear, blade and brute force.
We formed slowly and in continued silence although it served no purpose now. A mighty roar came from the enemy camp a short distance through the forest before us. The outlaws were building themselves up into a fever pitch in anticipation of the battle to follow.
The trumpet sounded. lt was not so much that we could see as our bodies attuned in some primeval manner to nature sensed the coming of the sun. We advanced, a drummer to the rear beating out the slow pace of the Doridian Seker when marching into combat. The Sekers began the battle chant, its origins lost in the mists of antiquity. It was a slow, ponderous yet strangely savage chant. The men moved in unison and the chant grew in force was we broke through the brush of the forest and into the clearing.
Kanchoh had drawn his men into a mass in the center of the field and his wicked, filthy outcasts screamed and shouted, beating their weapons at the sight of us. They had, of course, no way until now of knowing who they faced or how many, and I saw that the mob was visibly shaken at the sight of so many Sekers, bright shields before them, spears to the front, marching with purpose and unity from the primeval forest, the supposed haven of the banished, too wild and threatening for the effete Sekers of the city. Their cheering diminished as they saw they were outnumbered. We were a formidable opponent indeed and I wondered that these men were willing to face us in a pitch battle were nothing was to be gained. It was a tribute to Kanchoh that they were prepared to do so.
The chant grew in ferousity. Shields interlocked and the last of the spears leveled at the enemy. We continued the march and I felt the blood heat began, not just for me but for all of us. It was as though I was apart from the scene and viewed it from above. From this moment on I moved with instinct and the primitive desire to conquer and kill.
The drum now increased its tempo to a fast trot and as one we advanced. The enemy was less certain but at last as a body it committed itself and charged.
We took the brunt of the body upon the forward point of the advancing wedge. Unshielded outlaws were pushed by the mass of men behind them into the tips of the spears and screamed in anguish and pain as they were impaled. The screaming dying became small mounds upon which the battle was fought. Soon all in the forward ranks were red with blood, their own or that of others.
We pushed through the mass of screaming savages but, to my dismay, at a much slower rate than was needed to save Sofeeah. Had the battle gone as planned, we would already have been at her side. But it was now a melee which gave me no hope of personal victory. The wedge continued its advance although now the spears were useless and the battle was waged with sword and dagger. Men fell, limbs were severed and I saw that our victory was certain.
As suddenly as the charge had struck, it ended. We broke through the mass and ahead at the center of the camp I could see a small battle raging. Shouting for Sekers to follow me, I sprint towards the fight. Outlaws seemed to be fighting outlaws. Then I saw that some 20 men with red tags to their sleeves were fighting desperately to get at a blond haired woman held fast to the side of Kanchoh, while he and 10 of his brutes fought off Danak and his band.
Most of the Sekers followed me though many were forced to turn about to protect us from others. We plunged through the back of Danak’s band and I was relieved that my men slew them not. I brute faced me but before I could raise my sword he fell to the blow of the man to my right.
Kanchoh stood in the center of his diminishing circle of loyal followers and knew that nothing now but he could prevent me from saving the woman he had taken such determined steps to keep for himself. With a cry of rage, Kanchoh picked her up over his head and turning his back to me ran through his men and on up the mountain to his rear. One of Danak’s men could have prevented him but he had apparently been warned strongly not to harm the woman and so taking no chances, stepped aside.
Kanchoh was no fool and the moment he was free to do so he veered sharply to his left and ran with all his great strength for the fleeing remnants of his defeated band. A few seeing their leader ran towards him to lend assistance. My men and I were detained only momentarily by the necessity of dispatching the last of these who had fought just moments before to protect Kanchoh.
Sofeeah saw Kanchoh’s retreating men turn back to help him and screamed in rage and anguish. Her hand darted to the brute’s belt and saw in the first shaft of dawn the glint of his dagger as she raised it high and stabbed down, down into his back, again and again. The two of them tumbled to the rocky ground then Kanchoh seized the dagger in his great paw. They rolled down a short hill and I saw the crimson stain of blood upon their clothing as they twisted on the brutal soil.
“No! No!” I screamed, running and cursing as I did. “No, not now. No!”
I found her beside Kanchoh laying still in his warm blood, his open eyes quickly glazing at death’s embrace. The knife had taken her just below her left arm and had been driven to the hilt deep into her soft, yielding flesh. I lay upon the ground beside her and gently raised her head a short distance and pressed my ear to her lips.
“I killed him, Jon,” she whispered, her voice rasping and barely audible. Tears burned my eyes and I fought to hold the flood back. “But he has killed me in turn and we shall never be wed. You are my love and have been from the first day you took me into the forest. He took my body as you never did but he never touched my soul. Only you, just you my love.” Her breath stopped and I waited helplessly for it to begin again.
I heard someone sobbing and suppose that it must have been me as I crushed the lifeless, still warm body of Sofeeah to me.
23. Return to Lathanah
We piled then burned the dead in the clearing, Seker and outlaw alike. The brave beside the coward, the noble with the vile, all equal now in death. Kanchoh’s headless corpse, however, I cast into the stream unwilling to see it burned properly. I carried my love deep into the forest and alone constructed the traditional funeral pyre, head towards a stone facing the east and then had her consumed in flames.
I had freed her as I had once promised. There was no justice and no glory in any of it and I would rather have been left upon the field of battle then alive to burn her.
Our losses had been moderate and I ordered that we prepare to depart at once. Danak approached me.
“I will see you at the new moon,” he said.
“Yes, at the new moon. If I am not there one who represents me will be to fulfill the agreement.”
He nodded his head. “See that he does not forget the women.”
“I will see to it.”
The man turned to leave. “Danak,” I called, “thank you for your help.”
He looked at me and seemed puzzled at my words, then a great smile spread across his face. “I am only an outlaw, but I keep my word.”
“Yes, Danak, you keep your word.”
“She was beautiful and brave. I am sorry we did not save her.” I nodded but was unable to say anything. “But then,” he continued, “she was only a slave.”
“Yes, she was only a slave.” I managed to whisper. He looked strangely at me and strode into the forest.
~
The wind whipped
about me and cut through to the skin beneath the cloak and clothing. It was fully spring at last and this was only a passing front of rain which would leave probably this night. The fields about glorious Lathanah were filled with the flowers that signified the beginning of a new birth of the land. Three caravans had arrived in the city while we had been gone in the forest and the trading season was upon us. The rich city bustled with the prosperity they brought for all.
Ladak had said little to me since we had arrived at the city but that had been because I had avoided talking to anyone. He had expressed his sorry at my loss and had gone to report to his father. I thought that his father would be pleased at the new man who would greet him. Ladak had matured and showed the new found responsibility in his manner and bearing. He had left his childhood in the forest.
Earlier that day I sought out a scribe and prepared a detailed dispatch for the Urak Rahdon in Taslea. He would be well pleased by the success of my mission. Each of the two Great Houses, one of Runah and one of Lathanah, were now committed to supporting our cause.
Outlaws would diminish as a threat within the area of the Godden Triangle. I had successfully recruited Danak and his band to hunt scalps for us and for a year or two he would prosper doing so. Once the outlaws moved on, however, he would see that there was not enough human game to satisfy his men and would be forced to turn on the caravans. We would deal with that problem once it developed. For now he and his men did much of our work.
Lehdah, again dressed in the flowing robes of a Free Woman, approached me from behind. “May I speak with you?”
“Yes, you need not ask permission.”
“I am so very sorry for what you have lost. I know that she meant a great deal to you. You are welcome to stay here with us. Since you returned me to my father you are as one of the family. My father trusts you implicitly, my youngest brother worships you and I...” Her voice faltered.
I turned to her and saw tears in her eyes. “There is no reason to cry. You are home again and safe at last.”
“I cry for you, Hunter. Sofeeah is not the only woman who loved you. She is gone but I am not.” Her eyes met mine.
“There is nothing inside of me Lehdah. Nothing for you to love and nothing for me to love another with. Find another.”
She reached for me and frantically clutched me to her. “There is no other, not for me.” I held her but part of me was above us high in the storm clouds.
After a time, she pushed herself away and spoke softly, “Do not forget me and what I have said. It would be unseemly for me to ever speak of it again if my feelings are not returned.”
“I will not forget.” She took a kerchief from her sleeve and dapped at her eyes then turning again to me said, “And now what?”
“I will go. First, to Runah and to the good Urak Tonalah to tell him and his wife of the fate of their daughter.”
“And after that?”
“I once told another that there is much of Doridia to see and that I intended to see all of it, so that someday none of it would be unknown. Now is as good a time as any to begin. I am done here.”
“Where will you go?”
“North, towards the great jungle of Tharason. Or perhaps south? Who knows?”
She looked upon me with her eyes aglow with love. In that moment it seemed a foolish thing to turn my back on her and her love. I might live a lifetime and never find one as kind and decent as her.
She lifted her noble head and tilted her chin up to me, “Will you return?” I saw her lips quiver as she spoke.
I pulled the robe tightly about me and looked deeply into her eyes as I replied, “Yes, I will.” She smiled faintly and then fled the roof leaving me alone with the storm.
Lightening flashed in the distance and was followed by the roll of thunder. Trees whipped about as the wind descended in waves from the frigid air above us. I looked outward. It would be time to depart soon.
Thank you for reading Caravans of Doridia. If you enjoyed it, consider leaving a review. If you have not already, please read Hunter: Warrior of Doridia and any of the other books written by the author. Many are available as audiobooks. You may visit the author at: www.RonaldJWatkins.com.
JH02. Caravans of Doridia Page 17
