Chapter 11
It
was late the next morning before a messenger came to Railon in his quarters to
announce that men were ready to go with him as he had requested. As soon as
this news reached him, Railon leapt up from his seat prepared to go. He had
been anticipating the messenger since the onset of dawn, and was rather
disappointed to hear that the promised party had taken what he considered an
excessively long time to prepare themselves. But now that the message had
finally come, Railon succeeded in greeting the man civilly, and then marched
out of the room.
In
the courtyard of the building where he had taken up residence, Railon found ten
riders, still mounted and heavily armed. A glance toward the open outer gate of
the building revealed another ten, prepared as the others. The natives were
riding camels, and they had brought one for him. Exchanging a greeting with the
man who approached him as the captain of the band, Railon pulled himself aboard
the proffered mount in one motion. Turning about to face the captain, he said
in the man’s own language “It is time we were off.”
At
the signal from the captain, all the riders turned as one and formed a line out
through the gate and into the open space beyond, where they reformed into two
lines side by side. Railon had been crowded out to the back of the line, but he
did not mind this; if the men wanted him to there was plenty of time yet to
retake the lead before battle was joined, if they had the good fortune to find
the enemies they were searching out at all, for it was a wide and practically
featureless country near the border with Naibern. That is, featureless beyond
the plentiful oases which sustained the roaming people who had brought the
first reports of trouble, and which might also serve as a staging point for the
invading force, if an invading force it really was. Perhaps it was only a
raiding party after the livestock, but however large or small the party proved
to be, Railon felt he owed to himself and his goodwill toward others to bring
battle to them and stop their depredations. To do this he had been lent one
score of riders.
The
riders were well prepared. Each carried a small bow which he could evidently
shoot from his mount’s back, in addition to a bundle of throwing spears and a
sword at his side. They rode without armor or helms, a choice which made riding
both swifter and more comfortable, but also meant they could all be killed in a
minute by a group of skilled archers. This, however, was a risk they preferred
to take.
The
party drew a few scattered cheers as they rode through the city, but for the
most part they passed without notice. Their appearance drew an admiring look
from the keeper of the city’s south gate, but that was all; he simply opened
the gate without asking questions, as these were the Taljun’s warriors who
obviously had business elsewhere. Once outside the city, the riders reformed
into rows of ten while Railon rode around to the front to speak to them again.
“Hear
me now. We do not know how soon we will come upon the enemy, nor how many they
are. From this spot we will ride in one line, each giving two lengths of his
mount between himself and the next man. We will make camp once near midday and
again at dusk to rest ourselves. Now let us cover some ground before we pause!”
Railon
turned his mount about so that it was facing away from the city and started
off. A moment later riders appeared on each side as the men began forming into
the extended line he had ordered. Soon he was not in the center of the line,
and neither was the Quaffdi captain, who Railon could make out several yards to
his left. This, Railon noted, was evidently a practice the Quaffdis had adopted
to facilitate the spreading of messages and maintaining of order in the ranks.
They
rode for about two hours before Railon suggested to the riders closest to him
that it was the proper time for that day’s pause. They had ridden far in those
first two hours, far enough even that the city they had departed from had long
disappeared below the horizon. No one had yet seen an enemy, a fact which
Railon had anticipated; he felt that they were unlikely to meet any Naiberns
until they came to the first of the southern oases, which was at least a whole
day’s ride farther on, or so Railon believed.
At
this time Railon began to devise plans which he might use to gain victory with
the twenty riders at his command. If the Naiberns were already to be found as
far beyond the border as the first oasis he and his riders came to, then they
would be the vanguard of an invasion and the troops under his command would be
outnumbered by several times. If however, it was only a raiding party stealing
the livestock to sustain the army behind them, the odds were likely to be even
at their worst and Railon’s best attack would be to have his riders stay back
and pick off the Naiberns with arrows. He fervently hoped that the latter was
the truth, for in his heart he was beginning to wish to turn back toward the
west and see his homeland again.
Accordingly,
the riders formed up and made a simple camp a few yards beyond the point where
he had first suggested it, where there was a large dune which would provide
height for the watchman and shade for the others. The men arranged their mounts
in a large ring, on the inside of which they lay down and spread themselves
toward the center of the circle, their long hoods draped over their faces to
ward off insects attracted to their beasts and themselves. It was agreed that
the midday rest each day should be no more than an hour long.
Consequently,
when the stipulated hour had passed, Railon and the natives mounted without
incident and set out once more in their picket line formation. They rode on
without interruption for another two hours, but at the end of that period, one
of the riders on the western side of the line, which was Railon’s half,
suddenly stopped and began to wave his free arm vigorously, which eventually
brought all the others to a halt as they each noticed that their companions had
stopped.
Railon,
eager to know why the man had not given a shout which would have stopped the
whole line neatly in a few moments, turned his own mount and rode out alongside
the man who had first signaled, closely followed by everyone on the far side of
the line. Railon almost unconsciously reverted to the native language and asked
“Why did you stop?”
“I
saw a man not a mile off. I cannot be sure if he saw me, but I think he did,
for he turned back and disappeared before I signaled you.”
Railon
swore under his breath and replied “It seems they followed me. I came this way
not a week ago, so I know as well as you do that they are less than two days
from us if they have a scout this far out today. We must tread carefully now.
Close the line. Hold your bows ready. Form into columns. We can stay in our own
tracks and so make those of this scout easier to spot.” Indicating the man had
originally stopped the line, he added “You and I will ride in front. Give the
signal the instant you notice his tracks.”
All
the riders were now grouped together mere feet away from Railon, so it was work
of only a moment to form into column lines and be ready to move forward again.
This time they moved at a walk rather than the trot they had been maintaining
well since departing the city.
The
rider’s judgement was sound; they had not gone more than a mile before the man
signaled that the enemy’s tracks were in sight. Once alerted of this, the whole
party stopped as one while he and Railon determined exactly which direction the
tracks were leading.
“Straight
on.” Railon said after a minutes intense staring and riding back and forth over
the nearest few yards more than once. “At least, as far as can be seen from here.
Keep an eye out for him all of you. But perhaps we’ve had the good fortune to
fall upon the trail of a poor tracker. A good one would never go straight back
without trying to conceal his direction.” At Railon’s signal, they began to
move forward again.
Only
a mile further on Railon suddenly ordered a halt again. “Yes, the man is a
foolish tracker. I can smell the oasis now; I’m sure it is straight ahead.
Silently now.” At his wave, they moved forward another few yards - and suddenly
found themselves at the top of a dune from which the oasis around which the
Naiberns had camped was visible.
At
first glance, Railon could see that it was a large camp; certainly not one that
could be captured easily with only twenty men. A longer glance brought to his
mind the thought that he and his band were probably outnumbered by as many
three or four to one. Such numbers puzzled Railon, for such a group was too
large to be an efficient raiding party and far to small to actually be an
invasion force. A moment later his earlier thoughts returned and he recalled
that this was only the advance guard, sent out in numbers large enough to deal
with advance defensive forces such as his own.
In their current position, he and his men were
at the top of a height several yards outside the camp, and so Railon thought
there was a good chance that they had not yet been spotted by the main body and
remained in relative safety. Therefore he ordered that they should halt where
they were and take shelter as they had previously done. Only this time four
watchmen were assigned rather than one.
Going
to the side of the native captain, Railon asked him “Can your men make a good
fire?”
“We
have nothing to make a fire with.”
Railon
paused, astonished that he had failed to think of such an obvious response. “No
matter. Tell your men to get some sleep now, and dream of home, for some of
them will not survive to see the sunrise. We are outnumbered at least three to
one.”
“But
we have our bows, and surprise.”
“That
we do. However they may be carrying bows themselves, and they may be wearing
armor. Your men are not. However we cannot turn away. It is our duty to your
people to attack this force before they reach the capital. We shall attack at
dusk.”
“Why
dusk, rather than the midst of night?”
“I
have taken part in many campaigns before this one. In the dead of night the
guards will be more alert and the soldiers will be sleeping lightly, because
that is the usual time for a night attack. At dusk, just before we lose the
light of the sun, we can hit the watchmen just before they change over, and the
rest of the force will be at their slowest. Before we attack, we will wheel
around to the west so as to be coming out of the sunset and harder to see.”
“The
plan is sound. We will do it.”
And
then, on the spur of the moment, Railon added a wrinkle to his simple plan.
“Send five of your men around to the east. They are to wait there until they
hear the sounds of battle. We shall also leave five men here. Perhaps we can
convince the enemy he is surrounded.” At an acknowledgement from the captain,
Railon returned to his own mount and lay down. As he watched, the native
captain chose out five men and gave them their orders. These men prodded their
camels upright again and had soon disappeared toward the east without asking
questions.
It
was some time later when Railon was shaken awake by the native captain.
Startled, he looked around hurriedly for any sign of danger. But he saw no one
but the riders he had come with. The captain prodded him again. “Come, it was
you who said we were to attack at dusk.”
On
his feet, Railon asked “Are you sure you can trust those you sent away?”
“Do
you think I would send any man i did not trust with my life out of my sight so
close to an enemy camp? I chose each man myself!”
“Very
well then. “Give men ten men and we will be off. And hit the watchman the
moment you see our attack begin.” As the captain acknowledged this last
command, Railon and his men started off toward the west.
Five
minutes later, they were in position, at the minute the sky was just beginning
to take on a darker shade. Seeing this, Railon told his men to nock arrows.
“Hit the watchman, and then fire at will at every man you see.”
With
a collective nod, the natives fired at the nearest watchman, who fell without a
sound and did not get up. A moment later, Railon saw the watchman facing the
north side also fall silently. By this time the men with him had already begun
to fire at every man they saw. As a result, men could be seen falling dead all
over the camp.
The
attack had been going on unnoticed for several minutes before Railon caught the
sound of a man calling out to a friend, who apparently was not answering.
Drawing his sword, Railon said “The game is up. It is astonishing that we have
not been noticed before.” At his signal, the natives stowed their bows and took
up javelins, of which they each carried five in tall quivers suspended from
their saddles. Pointing toward the camp with his blade, Railon cried “Forward!
And take no prisoners!”
At these words the riders charged, making a
noise like packs of wolves and dogs each
trying to outdo the other for sheer noise. As he rode, Railon saw the riders
from the north and the east break cover and join in the charge and the howling.
The
attackers made straight for the two main campfires, killing most of those
sitting around them and scattering the ashes and flames in every direction in
an attempt to light some of the tents. Then they broke ranks and began to
deliberately destroy the tents, stabbing at them repeatedly as they tried to
kill anyone who might be inside.
This
had been going on unabated for several minutes before Railon finally heard one
of his own riders die. By this time, the fires having been scattered, it was
very difficult to see. However, the moon had come up almost immediately that
night, so that there was just enough light to avoid killing one’s friends in
the darkness.
“Form
ranks!” Railon shouted in desperation. “Close in!” As he said this, he thought
“The man is a good commander after all. He must have ordered his men to ignore
our attack at first, so that we have ridden straight into his trap.” By this
time, two more of Railon’s riders had been killed. Furious at his helplessness,
Railon told himself “This is not how I go on. I will not wait here to be killed
by an unknown enemy. For Gairadane I’ll go down fighting!”
Spurring
his mount forward, he cried “Charge!” ,
driving his mount straight into the enemy ranks, thrusting and swing in every
direction. The mass of his enemies was so tightly packed that he scored a hit
with every blow. He soon began to feel better about the situation. But then his
mount suddenly died under him and he fell, still trying to attack the enemy. In
less than a minute he was beaten senseless by the mass of Naiberns surrounding
him.
