rebels themselves in the relative shade of their positions but occasional movements reminded the government soldiers that they were there and waiting for them. Few had really believed their officers who had tried to convince them that the artillery bombardment would kill most of the enemy.
Those Neravistas in the front line were the most scared. They were the ones who would step into the light first. But they had one weapon to aid them, to give them some confidence, a surprise for the rebels that, as their officers had insisted, if they could use it to full advantage would mean they could make it to the rebel positions without a scratch.
A Neravista officer made his way along the rear of the lines, ducking between branches and over logs as he reassured the men. ‘The grenades will clear the way,’ he reminded them. ‘Let your grenades do the work. They will clear what is left of the rebel line.’
Each man in the front line held a grenade tightly in one hand, his gun in the other. They had already pulled the rings and were holding the striker levers against the grenades’ casings, ready for the order to throw.
A rebel veteran saw the foliage opposite him move. He knew the Neravistas were there, waiting for the order to charge. He saw something beyond the outer branches, a pair of legs in camouflage clothing. He pulled his rifle tightly against his shoulder and rested his finger on the trigger as he aimed.
The enemy’s legs shifted position. The rebel was sure that the man was about to charge.
He adjusted his sights to where the man’s chest should be and squeezed the trigger.
His gun went off. The Neravista dropped out of the bushes and fell face down into the dirt, dead.
‘Hold your fire!’ a rebel commander yelled.
An instant later the grenade the soldier had been holding slipped out of his hand, the lever flew off and after a few seconds it exploded.
Several Neravistas nearby were hit by shrapnel. One of them screamed in agony as he fell.
‘They have grenades!’ a rebel shouted. ‘Grenades!’
The implications spread along the rebel line like wildfire.
The commander was unsure what to do at that second. He had made up his mind to fire only when the Neravistas charged. But now things were different.
The realisation of the new danger struck many of the rebels far more quickly. They knew that they had to act first.
‘They have grenades!’ one of them shouted again. ‘FIRE!’ he yelled and the rebel front line erupted in a thunder of guns.
Dozens of Neravistas were cut down inside the forest. Explosions shook the ground as the grenades they had been holding went off.
The government soldiers reacted in desperation and many in the front line threw their grenades. Many were shot as they emerged from cover to ensure that their devices flew freely into the rebel positions.
The Neravista officers realised they had lost the element of surprise and knew they had only one option left to them. ‘Charge!’ they yelled repeatedly, running behind the lines and firing their pistols into the ground behind the heels of their men.
The Neravistas burst into the open. Many were cut down immediately but a fair number of grenades were thrown and succeeded in silencing the rebel guns long enough for the government forces to cross the gap.
The Neravista soldiers screamed as they came, leaping over fallen comrades, rifles held out in front of them, the points of their bayonets leading the way. They pulled their triggers repeatedly, firing at anything and everything confronting them.
The rebels had the advantage of being defenders behind cover but although they killed an enormous number of Neravistas the far larger force overwhelmed them.
Rebels caught changing magazines were killed before they could reload. Bayonets plunged into throats and chests. The sound of metal upon metal joined the gunfire as men parried lunges and skewered bodies. Rifle butts slammed across faces. The screams of the impaled and of those doing the impaling joined the cacophony. Soldiers gouged eyes, sunk teeth into flesh. They smashed skulls and shot faces.
All along the rebel line, Neravistas charged through gaps.
‘Fall back!’ came the order from rebel commanders but for many it was too late.
The line of rebels began to thin. Gangs of Neravistas set upon individuals, who were stabbed and shot from all sides. They battered, slashed and blasted the wounded where they lay or crawled.
Stratton and the others had listened to it all. The sounds of death and battle had not helped their morale any. If Stratton had stayed behind the others would gladly have done the same.
They watched the last of the Neravistas head into action.
‘Now,’ Stratton said as he hurried forward.
Victor gritted his teeth and followed closely behind, feeling utterly vulnerable and not just because he had no weapon. This is madness, he thought.
The sound of gunfire grew louder as they made their way up the slope and into the undergrowth where visibility dropped to a few metres. The fighting seemed to rage all around them.
A bullet zinged through the air between Stratton and Victor, and more slapped into the leaves and branches above. Victor crouched as low as he could without actually crawling on his belly and stretched a hand out in front of him, almost touching Stratton as if afraid of losing contact with him.
Bullets raked the ground close by and Stratton checked behind to see if the others were okay. Kebowa had suffered a nick across an arm but otherwise the team seemed to be unscathed.
They came across their first dead body, a Neravista with most of his head blown away. Stratton snatched up the rifle beside him and cocked it to ensure it was loaded. A few metres further on lay another body and Stratton relieved the dead man of his magazine sack. Victor grabbed up his weapon, eyes wide as he looked ahead.
They pushed on at a steady pace, Stratton aware that they had to avoid getting too close until the way was clear.
More bullets spat past them as they reached the cleared zone. Stratton crouched low and paused on the edge to take a look. Dead and injured Neravistas littered the sunlit ground.The main sound this far behind the battle line was the groaning of the wounded.
The sound of gunfire came from ahead. Stratton continued to wait, his gaze darting everywhere, his heart pounding in his chest.
The fighting seemed to move to the left and right of their front. It suggested that the Neravistas had successfully breached the perimeter at that point and were clearing the sides.
‘The Neravistas have won through,’ Stratton said as he turned to face Victor. ‘From here on it’s whatever your goal is. You know mine.’
Victor nodded. When he looked at Stratton the man was wearing a thin smile. Amid the madness that surrounded them, the flying bullets and the grotesque screams of dying men, the Englishman’s expression had a calming effect on him. His fear remained but he could focus his thoughts.
‘Thanks for everything,’ Stratton said.
Victor wanted to say something but could not. This was a place where men said goodbye to life without a word.
Stratton looked at the Indians who understood he was saying farewell. He turned his back on them and ran across the clearing.
Victor watched him disappear into the foliage on the other side and when he was gone he felt a sudden relief. Stratton’s single-mindedness had driven Victor to levels he could never have hoped to reach on his own. Mostly it had simply meant following the man but it had always seemed as if they were heading straight into hell. Now that he had gone the pressure was off. Victor felt free.
He faced his companions. ‘Let’s go,’ he said, jutting his chin back the way they had come. ‘We made it to the camp. How I don’t know. We can go now.’
Kebowa and Mohesiwa indicated that Stratton had gone forward.
‘He’s got things he must do,’ Victor explained. ‘We go,’ he said.‘I’ve come this far. It’s enough. My conscience is clear. I don’t want to see any more dead bodies, especially those of people I know.’
Victor started back down through the forest, followed by the others. Yoinakuwa made his way to the front, moving stealthily down the slope. But as they reached the point where the foliage began to thin out Yoinakuwa
