But not Alex. While the others relaxed and ate, he paced back and forth, his stomach in knots. He was always nervous before a battle, but he felt completely helpless waiting to see if Wenta-eh came back or not.
He needn’t have worried. Before the sun dipped low in the sky, she slipped soundlessly back to them, smiling.
“They are not so clever as you said, Manta-ak,” she said grinning. “I climbed right up behind them and looked down. Most of them were sleeping in the afternoon sun. There were a few guards, but they all were looking down the hill.”
“How many are there?”
“I saw thirty of them, but I’m sure there are more in the trees below. There might be forty of them altogether.”
“We’re outnumbered, then,” Alex said. “But we have surprise on our side. Gather together. I have a plan.”
Chapter SixteenThe Battle
The young Winten-ah warrior known as Ronda-ak stepped out into the clearing at the base of Prata-ah. He walked carefully, as though he was afraid he might be spotted, knowing full-well that the guards above had seen him.
Still, he slunk along and hurried into the forest at the bottom of the hill. He continued on his way, ears pricked, waiting for the first sign that they were coming after him.
He didn’t have to wait long. There was one short horn blast above him, then two more from a sentry higher up. Those piercing sounds were followed immediately by the sound of feet pounding down the trail.
Ronda-ak turned and retreated immediately, hurried back down the trail, and sprinted across the clearing.
Almost immediately, four warriors pounded down the hill after him. They entered the clearing just as the young warrior sprinted into the forest on the other side. The onrushing warriors saw how close they were to their prey and sprinted directly into the shadowy darkness of the trees.
That was their mistake.
Before their eyes had a chance to adjust from the brightness of the afternoon sun to the deep dark of the forest, six Winten-ah warriors were on them, swinging their heavy hammers in a flat, whizzing arc. None of the blows the Winten-ah struck were fatal and they were not intended to be. The blows were completely debilitating, though, breaking arms, legs, shoulders, and hips.
The first Winten-ah warrior, who Alex had designated as the rabbit, ran out into the center of the clearing, paused, and listened. While he was waiting, the eight warriors in the forest roughly grabbed the injured Lasta-ah warriors, pulled them deeper into the forest, and gagged them to stifle their moans.
The rabbit didn’t have to wait long, the blasts of the horn had drawn more warriors down the hillside at a sprint. He waited until he knew they would spot him, then once again turned, and ran back to the darkness of the forest.
There were half a dozen warriors this time, but with the advantage of position, surprise, and better vision, the Winten-ah once again took all the armed men down with very little struggle.
There was no time to haul the wounded deeper into the forest this time because as soon as the rabbit peeked out of the woods, he saw another stream of warriors heading their way.
There were eight more warriors this time, and some sixth sense told them to slow down a bit before entering the shaded copse of trees.
Still, when the first few warriors saw the trap ahead and tried to slow, the men behind them did not, pushing those unfortunate few into the waiting grasp of the hammer-wielding Winten-ah, who dispatched them quickly.
The remaining Lasta-ah gathered at the edge of the forest and saw what was ahead. One of the warriors shouted and the remaining soldiers formed up into a line.
Pausing and forming up instead of hurtling headlong into the darkness was a good plan, but it also made them an unmoving target. Three of Senta-eh’s archers stepped out of the trees forty yards away and unleashed their arrows. Before the first arrows landed, they had fired a second volley, followed immediately by a third.
They were too far away to have perfect accuracy, but spitting nine arrows at a group of men who were not moving was not a difficult shot. Six of the arrows hit home, though three of them found a home in one unfortunate man. Still, four more fell and before the Lasta-ah had a chance to know where the next threat was coming from, the Winten-ah in the woods launched themselves forward, letting loose a full-throated battle cry.
The remaining Lasta-ah put up as much of a defense as they could, but were soon overwhelmed.
In the end, only one of the Lasta-ah was unbloodied, and he raised his hands in surrender. In Lasta-ah, they did not believe in fighting to the last man.
The Winten-ah turned, bracing for the rest of the Lasta-ah, but the trail down the mountain remained empty.
“It is as Manta-ak said,” one of the warriors observed. “They did not all come after us. Let’s start up the hill.”
ALEX HAWK LAID FACE-down, flat on his stomach on the other side of the peak of Prata-ah. He did not want to raise his head and risk giving their position away. Instead, he closed his eyes and listened to what was transpiring below him.
Monda-ak was also on his stomach beside him, waiting for the command.
Next to Monda-ak, Harta-ak sat motionless and listened carefully as well. Alex knew that Harta-ak understood what was being said, but they did not want to risk even a whisper between them. Still, Alex could tell by the tone of the voices that whoever was giving the orders was growing increasingly angry.
Harta-ak listened for a long moment, then rolled on his side and flashed five fingers three times at Alex, then gestured down the hill.
Fifteen of them followed our
