“None will escape, my lord, you may be sure of it.” Her answer came sharp and hot into his mind, as if her blood was up and lent heat to her words.
“In the morning,” Aram continued, “your people will hide in the fields between the village and the river. When I and the horsemen make contact with the forces of the enemy that come out from the town, you will attack their flank. Launch your assault however you wish, but do so at the same time as ours. ”
The white wolf inclined her head. “I understand.”
Aram stood and swept his gaze over the group of captains, meeting every eye. What he observed in them filled him with grim satisfaction. “Alright – this will be our last general communication. Tomorrow we meet the enemy.”
At sunset, the three captains and their mounts joined him on a small hill south of the main body and east of the end of the stockade. Shingka and her twenty wolves slipped past and went before them southward across the plain. An hour after sunset, Aram led his small company around the end of the fence and then moved along its length toward the road and the gate with the wolves out on the flank, sending Durlrang into the darkness ahead. Just before midnight, as he had dismounted and was walking slowly forward, Durlrang reappeared. His harsh voice broke in upon Aram’s mind.
“The road is but a few paces to your front, master; the hut is on the other side. One of the monsters is awake and sitting on the ground outside.”
Aram turned away from the lasher and faced the men, whispering into the dark. “One of the lashers is awake. Do not speak, for you are facing him and he may hear you. Listen carefully. Go to your left, and swing around to the road. If any get past me, you must deal with them, as quickly and as quietly as possible. Move.”
As the men melded into the night, Aram turned to Thaniel. “Can you see the beast?” He asked with his mind.
“Yes.”
“On which side of the door does he sit?”
“To the right – toward the gate.”
“Alright. I will go straight in and kill him quickly. Then I will go through the door and try to destroy all those inside. If any get out, run them down as you did those on the road in the long valley.”
“Be very careful, Lord Aram.”
“And you, my friend.”
Aram put his hand on the sword. He did not want to draw it until the last possible moment. He did not believe that it would emit flame in the absence of sunlight, but he feared that it would still make its peculiar sound.
He moved a bit to his left away from the wall. “Do I face him?”
“One more step.” Thaniel answered.
Aram stepped to his left once more and drew a deep breath. “Come, Durlrang – guide me to him.” He said and he moved forward. The dark shape of the hut loomed out of the night. As Aram stepped onto the road, an even darker shape rose up before him and made an odd, small sound. Aram heard the ring of steel being drawn.
“Three paces, master.” Durlrang said.
Aram pulled the sword and leapt forward, swinging it in an arc that brought it into contact with the massive shadowy shape of the lasher. There was no sensation and for a moment, Aram was afraid that he’d missed. But then the lasher made an even odder, smaller sound and crumpled. Aram turned and went through the door, holding the blade to his front.
Light flared suddenly as a lamp was lit in the back of the room. The hut was larger than he’d thought, more like a small barracks. It was deeper, too, and in a flash he saw that there were three more doors, one to each side and another in the back.
A second lasher appeared to his right, a massive dark form, swinging something large and deadly. A warning sounded in his head and he turned to address the weapon rather than the body of the beast. The sword of heaven passed through the long object, rendering it useless, and he sidestepped and whirled, bringing the sword into contact with the lasher. The lasher fell, cut in two, but its sudden demise served to alarm the gray men and send them running from Aram rather than toward him.
He gave chase and managed to kill four, but the others disappeared out through the other exits into the night. He followed them on the run. The rumble of hooved thunder sounded on the dark road and then came the screams of dying men as the spikes of Thaniel’s armor did their work. Moments later, there were sounds of struggle from several yards further down the road, as Mallet, Jonwood, and Wamlak were engaged.
After that, the night gave voice to snarls and eager yips from the wolves. And then the night was still.
Aram found Thaniel and Durlrang. “Are you two alright?”
“Yes, my lord. I killed two; Durlrang also slew one.”
They went south along the road and found the three Derosans checking the bodies of four others to make certain that none would rise to fight again.
“Are all of you alright?” Aram asked.
Wamlak said. “Mallet is hurt.”
“Just a scratch.” The big man growled.
“How bad?” Aram insisted.
“I’m bleeding from my forearm – a sword stroke, I think. But it is not deep, and Jonwood has bound it up. It will not keep me from the fight tomorrow.”
“Donnick will decide that.” Aram answered shortly. “Can you ride?”
“Yes.”
“Open the gate, swing it wide, and then go back and join the main force. Try to rest a few hours, and show your wound to Donnick in the morning.”
“Yes, Lord Aram.”
As the big man and Markris disappeared northward into the night, Aram did a count of the dead. He’d killed four in the hut, Thaniel and Durlrang had dispatched three on the road, and the Derosans had killed four more. “Eleven.” He said. “Alvern thought that there were less than ten, but numbers is not one of his strengths. I heard action among the wolves as well.”
They went south along the road. A few dozen yards from where the Derosans had killed their gray men, the wolves had finished two others. Aram found Shingka in the gloom.
“Did any get past you?”
“None, master.”
“Good, leave the bodies so that our men may see them in the morning – they will serve to both hearten them and at the same time remind them of the seriousness of what we will do tomorrow. Take your people, Shingka, and go into the fields south of the next village on the river side of the road. When the enemy appears, we will attack from the east. When they turn to receive us, assault them from behind.”
“Yes, master.” The white wolf went into the night.
An hour later, they heard the soft thunder of horses’ hooves on the road, and Findaen and his small cavalry appeared. Aram led them slowly on down the road until Durlrang warned them that the village was close; then he turned left and went around the fields to the east and south along the edge of the woods. At the southern end of the woods, they entered and dismounted, both horses and men would have three or four hours to rest. Aram stretched out on the ground just inside the fringe of the forest.
Durlrang woke him as the sky lightened in the east. “The village awakens, master. Both of the grim lord’s monsters are to the north, gazing along the road. It may be that they suspect something.”
Aram grimaced. “They probably hear our men moving toward the village.”
He woke Findaen. “I am going to kill the two lashers. Ten minutes after I leave, take two or three men and go into the village. Warn all the people to stay indoors.”
“What if they won’t listen to me?”
“You are mounted and have swords. These are slaves, Findaen; they are used to taking orders from armed men – they will listen.”
Findaen nodded. “And afterward?”
“Get back into these trees. I will join you in less than a half-hour.”
Aram slipped Thaniel’s headpiece over his ears and fastened the ties, then donned his own helmet. They went out into the pre-dawn twilight, across the fields and into the village. Finding the road, which also served as the village’s main thoroughfare, they turned north, moving quickly but as quietly
as possible. As Durlrang had said, the two lashers stood in the road at the other end of the village, broad, muscular legs spread wide. They were staring at the north, into the early morning gloom.
Aram lowered the face shield of his helmet. “Go, Thaniel.”
Thaniel broke into a gallop, the lashers turned, and Aram knew instantly that they had trouble.
Twenty Nine
The two lashers were enormous creatures, larger than any he’d seen, but it was the weapons they held at the ready that drew Aram’s immediate and undivided attention.
During Joktan’s instructions to Aram during the late winter on the high plains, the ancient king had mentioned a race of lashers called harbigurs, larger than the others, that went into battle armed with halberds – long, wide, and flat blades of steel attached to thick wooden shafts like the shafts of spears but used like axes or enormous swords, able to inflict terrible damage. The flat steel was sharpened around all its edges so that a lasher could thrust it out or swing it in any direction and expect to do injury to his opponents.
These two lashers, preparing to receive Aram’s charge, were armed with halberds. As Thaniel bore down upon them, the lasher on their right opened his mouth wide and let out a loud, rather high-pitched roar. Aram felt his hopes for surprise sink; he knew instinctively that the sound of its voice carried all the way down the river and to any ear listening in the town.
The lasher on their left had set his feet wide and stood holding his halberd straight out before him as they came on, intending that the force of Thaniel’s charge would provide the impetus to do the horse injury. The other, still roaring at the top of his voice, held his weapon to the side, ready to swing it like a great axe.
Aram felt the chill of hesitation, but Thaniel evidently did not. The great horse drove straight at the enemy. Then the harbigurs began to move also, rapidly closing the distance. The chill of hesitation inside Aram’s breast changed suddenly to the shrill ice-cold clarity of warning. He drew the sword of heaven.
“Left, Thaniel!” He yelled. “Go left. Don’t challenge that steel.”
At the last minute, the great horse veered to the left, away from the horizontal threat of the halberd. Realizing that his tactic was blunted, the lasher twisted away, allowing the other to step over and swing his halberd as the horse and rider went by.
Aram leaned out with the sword held low and to his right, seeing with satisfaction the bright blade find the halberd of the retreating harbigur even as the beast turned from them. The blade severed the flat steel about a third of the way in from the end but that still left a sizeable weapon at the harbigur’s disposal.
Then there was the clang of steel against steel and pain exploded through Aram’s right side. The lasher on the right had swung his weapon ably, catching Aram full on the shoulder with violent force. Only with immense effort was he able to stay in the saddle and hang onto the sword as Thaniel wheeled back to the right.
Aram realized instantly that the horse’s instincts were correct. The harbigur that had struck Aram now struggled to regain control of his ungainly weapon. Thaniel drove straight at him before he could bring it to bear and Aram, using both hands to compensate for the loss of strength in his right arm, swung the sword as the beast tried to come around again and severed the lasher’s head. Then there was just one.
Showing presence of mind, the remaining harbigur dropped his damaged blade and picked up the weapon of his dead compatriot. As Thaniel turned once more, Aram realized their tactic would not work a second time.
“Halt, Thaniel.”
“My lord?”
“Let me off.” When Thaniel slid to a stop, Aram dismounted and walked around in front of the horse. “Am I bleeding?”
“No, my lord, but there is a great gash in your armor, below your right shoulder. Indeed, it appears to be rent in more than one place.”
The harbigur approached.
Aram moved his right shoulder, rotating the bone in the socket. Though it hurt immensely, there seemed to be no debilitating interior damage.
He raised his sword, using both hands, and faced the oncoming lasher. “Go around behind him, Thaniel. Watch for an opportunity, but stay away from his blade.”
The harbigur turned his head and watched the horse go around to his rear, the fLat discs of his eyes unblinking, but he kept moving toward Aram. He held the halberd out to his right, like a giant scythe. He also was using both of his enormous, gnarled hands to wield his weapon. Aram stood and let him come.
Evidently, the great beast had not fathomed the uniqueness of Aram’s weapon and felt that he could dispatch the smaller human easily before turning to deal with the horse.
The first bright rays of the sun shot above the eastern horizon and sunlight fell across the broad prairie. Into Aram’s mind there came the image of the sword releasing fire like lightning into the heavens above the pass and the power of the blade cutting away at the snow without the metal actually touching the icy mass. And he remembered the flash of fire that the sword had shot into the far wall of the tavern in Durck.
He held the sword aloft, so that the rising sun fell upon it fully. Within moments, its peculiar sound rose in pitch and filled the air. It reverberated painfully inside Aram’s steel helmet, its shrillness lacerating the interior bones of his skull, but he resisted it, even as he saw the approaching lasher flinch and a flicker of distress pass through the large flat eyes.
Flames began to curl and writhe along the blade. Lightning shot up into the heavens, but Aram no longer cared. The lashers and gray men inside the town had already been alarmed to the presence of an enemy.
His whole right side ached.
His large eyes blinking now, the harbigur came on.
When the beast had come to within a pace and Aram still did not move, the huge lasher drew back his weapon for a killing stroke, ignoring the odd behavior of the smaller weapon that the man held above his head. Probably, he hoped to silence the painfully shrill sound that the blade emitted by quickly killing the human.
Thaniel charged.
Aram shouted with his mind even as the halberd began its forward and downward motion, whistling through the heavy morning air. “Thaniel, stop!”
Obediently, the horse slowed, but in his anxiety, did not stop.
Aram dove to the left; as he did, he swung the sword with fury, driving its point forward through the air at the attacking lasher.
Flame concentrated and erupted from the end of the blade.
A yellow bolt of flame flashed from the sword and went into the body of the lasher. There was a puff of dark smoke and the smell of burning flesh. The halberd whistled through the air above Aram’s head. He rolled away and found his feet, standing to face his enemy.
The halberd sailed from the beast’s hands and fell into the grass several yards away.
The harbigur fell forward onto his face, as instantly dead as a lightningstruck tree.
Thaniel came pounding up and slid to a stop. He gazed down at the dead lasher and then turned to look at Aram. Aram slid the sword into its sheath. There was an odd sound in the morning air, as if somewhere distant thunder felt compelled to comment on what had just occurred in an echoed chorus of voices. Thaniel swung his head around to the north. Aram followed his glance.
The pikemen of Derosa were jogging down the road, the morning sun shining on the tips of their lances. Donnick came near Aram and looked at the dead lashers, and then at Aram.
“We saw flashes of fire in the sky, my lord, and the lasher fall dead.”
Aram nodded. “It’s already been an interesting morning. Are you ready for a fight?”
The older man returned his gaze steadily. “We are, my lord.”
Aram turned and pointed down the road toward the opposite end of the village. “Form up your men across the road south of the village; give yourself room to maneuver. I’m afraid that our enemies have already been alerted. They will appear shortly. Do you know what to do?”
“Yes, my lord
.” Donnick answered. “Receive their charge in good order, but do not charge them ourselves.”
“Good. I’ll rejoin the cavalry. Hopefully, we can yet give them a surprise or two.”
Donnick turned toward the column of men and raised his voice. “Through the village – hurry now. Form up across the road when you get south of these huts.”
Aram climbed up on Thaniel and raced back to the south end of the trees. As they went, he looked toward town. A wide column of gray men was already moving northward along the road, perhaps a mile away. Behind them came a small body of lashers, perhaps as few as twenty, but Aram could see the broad blades of at least five or six halberds flashing in the flat light of the rising sun. Thankfully, his searching gaze found no archers, for this was not really an army, after all, but rather an occupying force.
“Let’s get out of sight, Thaniel.” Thaniel turned and slipped inside the woods and they made their way southward inside the fringe of the trees until they rejoined Findaen and the others.
Aram watched the approach of the enemy for a moment and then turned and met Wamlak’s eyes and motioned him forward.
The quiet, thin-faced, dark-haired man pulled Braska to a stop next to Thaniel. “My lord?”
Aram pointed out through the trees toward the approaching enemy. “We have a new and dangerous enemy on hand, Wamlak. Do you see those large flat blades?”
Wamlak gazed south and nodded. “Yes, my lord.”
Aram turned and looked into the man’s somber eyes, startlingly similar to his father’s on this morning filled with serious business. The twinkle, usually present in them, was absent. “The beasts that carry those are called harbigurs. One of them almost killed me less than an hour ago.”
Wamlak’s eyes widened.
“We can’t let them get within striking distance of our troops,” Aram continued, “for if they do so, we will sustain severe casualties.”
“What are your orders, my lord?”
“Your fa – Donnick will keep his soldiers on line. When the gray men come almost up to us, Thaniel and I will go after the harbigurs. I want you and all your archers to follow us out. Concentrate your fire over our heads upon the harbigurs. Ignore everything else. Nothing else is as dangerous. Try to inflict as much damage as possible until Thaniel and I are among them – then turn your attentions to the rest of the enemy.” Aram glanced at Findaen, sitting astride Andaran beyond. “Findaen – you and the rest of the horsemen will attack the near flank of the gray men.” He met the eyes of both men for a moment. Findaen’s danced with tension and Wamlak’s pupils had dilated until his normally brown eyes appeared almost completely black. “Understood?”
Kelven's Riddle Book Two Page 48
