The following afternoon nine ships unfurled their sails and caught the breeze west to Kylee.
***
The process of getting a thousand warriors up the face of the cliff and safely on top was accomplished in two stages. Thirty six of them managed to work their way to the top on the first day before the sun sank. That group spent the night with Toria on the grassy face of the opposite side of the cliff. It was a gentle slope down to the swamp below, and there were many trees and boulders which provided sufficient wind breaks to make the passing of the night tolerable. Throughout the night, shifts worked above and below to reel up the equipment that the invading force would need to accomplish their task. The night was too dark to risk people climbing the cliff, but it was not a problem for hoisting their gear.
By the breaking of dawn almost all of the equipment and weapons had been hauled up leaving the warriors with only themselves to worry about getting to the top. That task was more easily spoken than executed. Even with the rope providing a constant handhold the trek was difficult. Only the extreme physical training and conditioning of the warriors made it possible.
And not everyone was successful. Twice the soldiers watched in horror as a climber lost footing and had not taken sufficient hold on the rope. Their screams as they plunged to the rocks below would not soon be forgotten.
Eventually though, only Taggart was left. He looked over to the two mounds of freshly turned sand which covered their brothers in arms. Then he looked straight up at the looming cliff face.
Taggart was not a person who enjoyed heights. This was one chore in which his size and weight was not an advantage. However, the lower gravity of Olvion definitely would be a help. He suspected he would have been unable to accomplish the climb had that not been the case.
Now he took a strain on the rope and started upward.
The climb was long and exhausting. Halfway up he wondered how Toria had ever been able to succeed. His hands were aching already just from holding onto the rope. He could not imagine having to use sharp rocks as handholds. His legs already trembled with the strain of constantly pushing up against the rock. Two thirds of the way up the wind battered him, making the rope slap against the wall and shaking him each time. He told himself several times that, if he was successful at scaling the cliff, he would look at the young woman with a renewed level of respect.
When he was high enough that he could hear shouts from above he looked up to see Toria lying on her stomach with her head over the edge and smiling down at him.
“Hi Tag. Listen, the last part of the climb is the most difficult because there are very few places in which to place your feet. Get ready, take a good strong hold on the rope. When you are ready nod your head, and we’ll pull you up.”
The big man resisted the urge to look down. The wind already told him that he was too high to feel comfortable doing that. He wrapped the rope around his left arm twice and took a firm hold with the other. When he was ready he looked up and nodded. Toria smiled again. “Hold tight!”
With unnerving swiftness Taggart began to rise. He had been thirty feet from the top edge, and he traveled that almost instantly. When his head and shoulders breached the top, arms reached out and grabbed his vest and under his arms. With a last surge of effort he was hauled over the top and landed on several of the warriors who had pulled him over. Everyone laughed and cheered. Taggart continued to lay on his back on the hard granite gasping air. His breathing eventually slowed and he was helped up by several others. The wind was strong enough that he backed well away from the edge, fearing he might be blown over.
“Nice little climb, isn’t it?” Toria was now next to him, squinting as she looked up. He noted that the newly-named Pan was riding her shoulder in the exact manner as Tinker was now riding his. The two creatures snickered and trilled to each other.
Taggart made a show of dropping to one knee and bowing his head. First he thanked God for getting him safely up the cliff. Then he looked at Toria and smiled. “Lady Toria, climbing that cliff was an accomplishment that I am in awe of. I dare say that you are the only person among us who could have done it. I salute you.” He then placed his fist on his chest, executing the Olvioni Warrior version of a salute.
Toria turned pink with embarrassment then a bright red when every other member of their assault force also saluted her.
Later as the group made their way down the sloping backside of the cliff, Taggart, Jo-Dal and Spall walked together.
“I confess, I am still wondering how that girl climbed that wall,” Spall said to the others. “I almost fell several times, and I had a rope to hold onto.”
Jo-Dal nodded and looked to Taggart. “Indeed, she is a special woman. Does Olvion plan to induct her into warrior status? If not, Aspell would be happy to offer her a commission.”
Taggart was impressed. The offer of a commission was a rare honor that was extended only in the rarest of occasions. Of course Toria’s courageous climb could be characterized as a rare accomplishment. Indeed, if she had not been successful their assault team would still be stalled on the beach.
“Well, since she and her family are now citizens of Olvion I think we will retain the option of commissioning her ourselves, but I will relay your offer to her.”
The descent was much easier than the climb. The gentle slope of the high hill was only difficult in certain places, and the use of ropes enabled them to keep progress at a steady pace. Just before the evening fell the group of a thousand warriors gathered at the edges of the large swamp. There was a broad strip of dry dirt and high grasses on which they set up camp. The insects were bad here, and many had to employ milt root to their faces and exposed skin. The pungent root was effective at repelling bugs as well as close contact with other people.
As darkness settled in, the three commanders of the forces of Olvion, Archer’s Gate and Aspell advised their fighters to remain vigilant and watch out for each other. Sentries were set, and the others settled in for the night.
Taggart and Jo-Dal strolled the edges of the swamp together. The buzzing of bugs and the “threep-threep” sound of the toad-like amphibians was uncommonly loud.
“What is that?” Jo-Dal suddenly pointed into the swamp. Taggart looked and was just able to see an object sliding into the water. “It was as large as a man.”
Taggart examined the surface of the swamp water for a few minutes. Seeing nothing more they resumed their walk.
“I doubt we’ll ever know what it was, but I recall Fauwler’s admonishments regarding the dangers that this swamp contains. We would be wise to make our people aware of the perils.”
Taggart and Jo-Dal completed their examination of the swamp edges and separated to each go to where their people were gathered. Taggart had just wiggled into his bed roll when a blood-chilling scream woke the camp. Leaping up, Taggart grabbed his mace because it was the closest weapon to him.
He now ran toward the sound of the scream. Other, weaker shrieks were coming from the direction of the swamp over by the area that was populated by the Aspell warriors. Taggart saw water flying and heard splashing as another terrified scream tore the night.
Ahead he saw several figures. Two were people. Three or four more were…something else. As he drew closer Taggart saw, with horror, that the other figures were large reptiles. They looked to him to be very similar to Earth alligators or crocodiles, but these creatures stood on their rear legs and used their arms and hands like humans. Three of them had hold of a bloody and screaming female warrior and were trying to drag her further out into the swamp. A single male warrior had grabbed her under the shoulders and was pulling her back, trying to keep her from being taken. He was losing ground rapidly as the weight of the creatures was far greater.
Taggart splashed into the water. He reached the two struggling humans and saw that two of the monsters had hold of the woman using their hands, but a third had latched onto her leg with its long reptilian mouth. Blood was spurting from the wound.
Taggar
t first tried to help the other warrior to pull her free, but this action caused the jagged teeth in the mouth of the one creature to tear the woman’s leg more. Her frantic screams of pain made him decide on another course of action. Raising his mace he waded past the warriors and smashed it into the shoulder of the brute which held the woman in its mouth. The reptile shuddered, but did not let go. Remembering Fauwler’s advice regarding the creature’s only weakness, he let the mace hang from the wrist strap and grabbed both of the animal’s jaws in his hands. Grunting with the effort, Taggart pulled on the upper jaw and pushed on the lower. The strength of the monster was surprising, but the mouth slowly began to open. The teeth finally disengaged from the woman’s flesh and now Taggart held the twisting and flailing beast at arm’s length. He pulled the animal in close to his chest and continued the pressure on its jaws. The flailing increased as the jaws grew farther apart. Finally, with a bestial scream and a Herculean effort, the bones and ligaments of the jaws snapped and parted. The creature wiggled a few more times then fell slack. Taggart dropped the carcass and turned to the other beasts.
With the weight of the one reptile removed, the warrior who held his bleeding fellow soldier was able to back up a few steps towards the bank. The other two creatures still had hold with their human-like hands and were attempting to drag her away from the warrior. Taggart heard others rushing to their aid.
He waded deeper out and raised the mace again. One of the upright-walking crocs released the girl and turned his attention to Taggart. Just before he was able to land his weapon the beast streaked toward him with its wide jaws open. Taggart was just able to pull his head back as the sharp toothed maw snapped shut, but the monster now grabbed at him with both of his clawed hands. Taggart was reminded of movies he’d seen back on Earth of velociraptors stalking and attacking humans. These beasts moved in much the same way though they resembled crocodiles more than those dinosaurs. This monster now was digging his claws into Taggart’s back, trying to drag him closer to that lethal mouth.
Several warriors now came splashing into the swamp over by where the lone male was still struggling to keep his sister warrior from being dragged away. The newly arrived soldiers attacked the animal that was still holding the woman. Spears, swords and javelins were plunged into the croc’s body, all with little immediate result. The beast still pulled at the woman even though its efforts were diminishing.
“Stand back,” a woman’s voice yelled.
The others backed away, and an arrow struck the croc just above the left eye. The shaft sank deeply. Another arrow struck immediately thereafter. The clawed hands released the wounded woman, and the creature slid limply backward and floated on the water.
Taggart was now locked in a desperate battle with the last croc. He had successfully dodged several chomps of the beast’s elongated mouth and had now worked his way behind it and away from that many-toothed danger. He was able to wrap one arm around the monster’s neck and the other around a shoulder. As the brute thrashed and struggled he brought to bear all of his Earth-earned strength. Screaming with the effort he leaned back to lift the croc off of its feet and squeezed until he heard something snap. The croc thrashed twice then went slack in his arms. Taggart lowered it to the water then delivered three powerful punches to its head just to make certain it posed no further danger. Then he tossed it behind him and searched the shallow waters until he found his mace. He’d dropped it in the struggle.
Many gathered warriors watched him with awe as he emerged from the water, amazed by his demonstration of strength. Others were gathered about the now comatose woman who was now laid on the sand well away from the water. Taggart strode up to the knot of people trying to save her life. One of the healers they’d brought with them was working on her, tying off the massive and gaping wound to her leg. Another was tending to the other, smaller injuries.
For the first time Taggart saw that the young male warrior who had first come to her aid and was solely responsible for keeping her from being dragged away into the swamp was Geraar. He sat now on the sand gulping air. He also had multiple injuries, but they were not to the extent of the unfortunate woman.
Taggart knelt before him. “Are you all right?”
Geraar seemed to have trouble focusing his eyes at first. When he finally got himself under control he nodded. “I’m good.” He nodded to the woman who was motionless on the sand. “I was on watch. I saw her walk to the water’s edge and wash her hands. They just exploded from the swamp and grabbed her. One moment there was nothing in the water then they were all over her. I tried to pull her back but…they were so strong.”
Taggart put a hand on his shoulder. “You did well, Warrior. If she lives, she will owe her life to you.”
She didn’t. She passed away halfway through the night from shock and blood loss. They buried her in the grassy part of the foothills far from the water before moving on the next morning.
***
The assault force broke themselves up into groups of one hundred and entered the swamp in shifts. Taggart and the other commanders felt they could best keep control over smaller groups and prevent some of their number from wandering away and getting lost or attacked by swamp animals. The insects were not nearly as bad as they had been the night before. As they got deeper into the swamp the smell of rotting vegetation assaulted their sense of smell. The cheerful bright sunshine seemed out of place with their present circumstances.
Taggart took the first group with Toria by his side. They waded into the thickly-weeded water with him in front. His presence gave courage to those who followed him. The story of him breaking the back of one of the swamp-crocs with his bare hands had circulated through the camp. They had no way of knowing for certain, but it seemed that the lethal creatures emerged only at night. The sentries reported seeing them splashing through the shallows all through the night, but they seemed to go away when the sun came up.
Geraar waded a few paces behind Taggart. Toria was uncharacteristically quiet throughout the morning. She had tried but was unsuccessful at getting Geraar’s kiss out of her mind. She had been taken completely by surprise. She knew she would eventually have to discuss the meaning of his actions, but, for the present, she was having trouble deciding just how she felt. She admitted to herself that she found him attractive, but that seemed inconsequential to her. There were many among this group that she regarded as attractive, chief among them the young cavalry officer, Whitt. The youth had given her a short ride on his charon and had made it clear that he was interested in her. Geraar had shown enormous courage the night before, however, and Toria had always admired that trait. She looked back at the young warrior. He was constantly searching the waters around the group, on the lookout for attacks from the swamp-crocs and any other dangerous swamp inhabitants. The bandages from his injuries to one of his hands had come loose and he was forced to constantly re-wrap it as they slogged through the water. Toria turned to Taggart.
“Tag, how did Geraar get hurt last night.”
The big man gave her an irritating, knowing smile. “Interesting to hear that you are concerned. He was on watch and saw that woman attacked. He raised the alarm and plunged into the water after her to keep those reptiles from dragging her off into the swamp. Those injuries are from the claws of those creatures trying to pull her away from him.”
She held her head down as if examining the water while she digested that information. Then she turned to him again. “I never heard the story of how you two first met. I asked him about it that first night we stopped at the charon ranch. He wouldn’t say much about it.”
Another knowing smile. Toria wished he was smaller so she could smack him.
“During the final battle of the Great War I was among the infantry. When the fight eventually came down to shield-to-shield combat I saw a break develop in one of our lines. It took me a while to push my way to it, and I remember wondering why more of the enemy was not getting through. When I got to the front line I saw Geraar. He had an o
ld, pitted sword and was standing in the middle of the breach striking down every Grey who tried to get through. It was an impressive display of strength and courage. His actions definitely saved many lives. I wanted to find him after the battle, but I was in the clinic for a long time, and no one could identify him from just my description. When we met at the charon ranch we recognized each other.”
Toria looked over her shoulder at Geraar again. He was trying to secure the loose bandage with one hand while carrying his spear with the other. Every time he would try to tuck it away it quickly came loose again and would flutter in the breeze.
She looked at Taggart again. “I’ll be right back, looks like he needs help with that bandage.”
Yet another irritating smile. “Yes, by all means lend assistance to the young warrior.”
Toria did not trust herself to respond, but she slowed her walk and let Geraar catch up to her. Without any words being exchanged she grabbed his arm and began re-wrapping the bandage.
An hour after the sun had reached its zenith Taggart spied a large patch of dry land and led his group to it. “Rest up and get some food. If anyone has injuries make certain they are well dressed. We don’t want any bleeding wounds while in the water.”
The group dispersed, and most found a place to sit while they dug food out of their battle packs. Taggart assigned three warriors to sentry duty, and he took one station himself. He stood watching the swamp for any signs of danger. He did see swirls in the water here and there as if something was below the surface but never more than that. The shore around the shallows was densely populated with frog-like amphibians, large crawling insects and a type of centipede that was over a foot in length.
The Coastal Kingdoms of Olvion: Book Two of The Chronicles of Olvion Page 32
