The Tsurani warrior leading the charge slowed, then came to a halt.
Gregory said something else and pointed back across the clearing. 'Those we call the Dark Brotherhood are upon us in strength.'
The leader turned and looked.
Gregory's words forced Dennis to focus his attention.
I am in command, he remembered, and he felt a flicker of anger towards Gregory overstepping his bounds yet again, and yet again being right. If we and the Tsurani fight now, we all die. He turned the anger on himself. I should have grasped this immediately; Gregory realized it. Jurgen would have too.
He turned about in a full circle, judging sound, distances, ignoring the Tsurani. He saw a line of horse-mounted warriors emerge from the trail that headed south, one of them holding a banner aloft -human renegades serving with their moredhel masters. Dennis felt his stomach knot; the only time the moredhel hired mercenary cavalry was when they were mounting an offensive; they had no use for humans otherwise.
A dozen or more trolls swarmed about the standard-bearer like dogs about to be unleashed for the hunt. Others on foot were pouring out of the forest from the far side of the clearing.
Main force there, he realized.
From behind, to the west and northwest he heard horns. The blocking force on the trail were spreading out and closing the net. If they delay us even for a few minutes the mounted riders and other fell creatures accompanying them will close in for the kill.
It was obvious they planned for a fleeing force to turn and go up the trail, and straight into their doom.
To the north, nothing, only a few sentries. Arrogant of them: it was the way back to moredhel territory and they had left it open. North then, it was the only way out!
He looked back to the clearing again, and the Tsurani were already gone, moving rapidly to the north. All he could see were their retreating backs.
Damn them, they were supposed to be the diversion and now he was the diversion instead!
Furious with himself he held a hand up, circled it then snapped it down and set off at a run, his men following.
He bounded back towards the trail to Mad Wayne's, praying that perhaps the Tsurani had taken that turn and stumbled into the moredhel's trap.
He hit the edge of the trail and without hesitation jumped down. Within seconds his men were sliding down around him. He looked down. No Tsurani tracks.
Damn! They had slipped out some other way.
A man next to him, Beragorn, was an old veteran. He grunted and turned, clutching at his stomach where an arrow with black feathers quivered.
Out of the mist he saw them coming, half a dozen moredhel. More filtering through the trees to either side of the trail. Instinctively he crouched, and an arrow snapped overhead. More men were sliding down onto the trail, turning, ready to fight.
No. In a minute those in the field will close in.
'Alwin! Block force. Then across creek!' he shouted. 'The rest of you, follow me north!'
He hesitated for a second, looking at Beragorn who was down on his knees. He reached for his dagger, to do the task any friend would do for a comrade when the moredhel were closing in.
Damn, his dagger was lost.
He glanced at Beragorn, whose eyes were glazing over as he fell backward against a bole. Taking a breath, Dennis seized the shaft sticking out of Beragorn's stomach, and with a single push, jammed it up into his old comrade's heart. The man stiffened and died.
Dennis sprinted off the trail, leaping the creek and running up the slope where he had fought the moredhel sentry.
This time his footing held. He looked back.
The tail end of his command were just now crossing the trail. Alwin had heard him, calling out half a dozen men who stood to either side of the trail, their first volley of arrows slowing the dark elves' charge. A couple more men went down from a return volley.
He caught a glimpse of Tinuva leaping the stream, landing, turning, bow drawn. He let fly, aiming back towards Brendan's Stockade. It was a long shot, yet it dropped a horse at the head of the trail, throwing the rider. Gregory sprinted past him, dodging through the trees.
'Follow Gregory!' Dennis shouted, pointing the way.
He waited a few more seconds, grabbing the shoulder of a man who started to slip back down the slope, pulling him up and over. It was the priest. He shoved him forward, screaming at him to run. He was about to shout for Alwin to break but the sergeant knew his business. The six men holding the trail leapt down to the stream and bounded across. Archers to either side of Dennis gave covering fire, killing two of the moredhel who tried to follow. Tinuva raced past, his retreat clear signal enough to withdraw. Riders were on the trail. Out in the clearing hundreds of the enemy were swarming in. But what of the other enemy, the Tsurani? There was no time to think of that now. It was time to run.
Behind him, the bloodlusting cries of the moredhel echoed in the clearing and the forest.
The hunt was on.
THREE. MOREDHEL
Asayaga gasped for breath.
'Keep moving, keep moving, keep moving…'
The words were a chant, a prayer, blanking out his own agony. One of his men was down, collapsed in the middle of the slushy trail. He slowed. Strike Leader Tasemu was standing over the man, struggling to pull him up.
'Keep moving,' Asayaga snapped, slapping the fallen warrior across the shoulder blades with the flat of his sword.
The warrior looked up. It was Sugama.
'Damn you. You are an officer!' Asayaga hissed at him so the men wouldn't overhear. 'Act like one. You were supposed to run lead with the scouts!' As much as he despised the Tondora dog, he would not undermine his authority in front of the men. Not for the first time, Asayaga cursed this war in which officers not of his own house were sent to serve with his men.
Sugama staggered to his feet and lurched forward. Tasemu gazed at Asayaga and shook his head. Asayaga said nothing.
He looked back over his shoulder. His command was strung out on the trail behind them. Those who were not totally preoccupied with their own pain had seen the exchange, the humiliation of an officer from one House by another. They would of course say nothing, for the behaviour of their Force Commander made it clear it was to be ignored. Yet, they would think on it, and some might mention it quietly while on guard duty or around a cook-fire to those who had not witnessed it, and many of his men would dwell on one thing: that one whom they were expected to obey without question was obviously a flawed man, one who had been sent to the front for reasons having nothing to do with his competence as a soldier. He was either a man acting as a spy for the Minwanabi, an incompetent someone higher up in his clan wished to see conveniently dead, or both. That would give the men pause at critical moments, and Asayaga knew other men might die as a result.
If only there had been one more Kodeko officer left alive. Only one other Kodeko son remained on the homeworld, and should Asayaga be slain, the mantle of leadership would fall to his younger brother Tacumbe, but the last son of the House would never be sent here. Again he silently cursed a cruel destiny that left his house with no other competent officers at hand, and Minwanabi machinations that placed this fool at his right hand. If they survived this nightmare, he would name Tasemu his Force Leader, even though the man's talents were better suited for his present role. He would return Sugama to his own family and let him deal with his shame.
Fatalistically, Asayaga allowed himself the thought he couldn't be more of an enemy to the House of Tondora than he already was. They can only kill me once, he thought as he again looked to see where his men were.
