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Authors: Brian H Jones

Tags: #romance, #literature, #adventure, #action, #fantasy, #historical

The Blood-stained Belt (23 page)

BOOK: The Blood-stained Belt
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'And if
Zabrazal declines to bless us? Will we allow the Dornites to escape
while we wait on Zabrazal's favour? Is that how we will serve
Keirine?' Sharma snorted. Having no answer to his dismissive, I
moved away to make preparations for the attack.

I ordered our
men to move their horses forward to a position just behind the
ridge and then I rejoined Sharma. I had only been away for about
five minutes but already the scene had changed. The square was
moving onto and through the Dornite ranks at the same inexorable
pace. First the Dornites made a frontal attack, only to find that
they couldn't penetrate the porcupine-like wall. Their leading
ranks perished while the press of the men behind added fresh
victims to the butchery before their ranks wavered and fell back. A
bugle sounded and, right below us, the Dornite cavalry moved around
their right flank.

Sharma said
triumphantly, 'The last throw of the dice!'

My pulse was
racing and my skin felt as if it had been rubbed with raw
sandstone. I wasn't even aware that I was beating my fists against
the rock in exhilaration. I was about to see something for which I
had waited ever since I was a boy – the rout of a Dornite army. I
said, 'We should move now.'

Sharma grunted,
'Not yet. Wait until the square has finished with them.'

Struggling
through the mud, the cavalry advanced towards the side of the
square. The result was the same as it had been with the chariots:
horses were skewered and tumbled to the ground leaving the riders
exposed to the points of the lances. The survivors turned and
retreated up the lower slope of the hillside towards our
position.

I said, 'Now!
We have them!'

Sharma shouted,
'Let's go!'

Our men swept
over the ridge and took the Dornite cavalry from behind. Attacked
from front and rear, hemmed in by the lances and by the hillside,
hampered by the soft ground and by their own weight, hardly a
cavalryman escaped. As our forces completed the slaughter, I joined
Sharma a little higher on the hillside. Sharma grinned at me
broadly and shouted, 'We have them!'

I pointed to
the Dornite ranks and shouted back, 'We haven't finished them off
yet.'

'They won't
last long. They can't handle the square.'

We watched as
the square moved forward, at the same time opening at the rear to
admit the men who had attacked the cavalry. Then the square opened
up, forming a long line of advance, three men deep. A bugle sounded
and the ranks broke into a quick trot, going as fast they could
under the weight of the lances while maintaining unbroken lines.
The Dornites fell back in confusion, breaking their line as the men
in front tried to escape the approaching lines of lances.

I shouted,
'They're retreating. They'll get away.'

Sharma shouted
back, 'Let's get behind them.'

We led our men
along the hillside and then wheeled behind the Dornites. We got
among the nearest stragglers, those who were retreating in advance
of their comrades, cutting some of them down and forcing the rest
back into their ranks.

Sharma drew up
alongside me and shouted, 'We don't have enough men to do much
damage. The best we can do is to try to slow them down.'

That's what we
did. We moved up and down behind the Dornites, attacking easy
targets. Now that the Dornites had to worry about two fronts at
once, their retreat slowed.

The next move
came from our own main force when the troops without lances
suddenly poured around the sides of the advancing lines, attacking
the Dornite flanks. Both sides sensed that this was the crucial
phase of the battle. The Dornites held on grimly, like men with
their backs to the edge of a cliff, contesting every step that they
were pushed backwards. For about ten minutes, the battle swayed as
if it was on an evenly balanced scale. Then the lances of the
square broke through the Dornite centre and it was all over. From
the Dornite ranks there rose a collective roar of anguish as if
their intestines were being ripped out of their living bodies. From
our soldiers came a shout of triumph and exhalation accompanied by
the deep-throated chant of 'Kei-rine! Kei-rine!'

The Dornites
wavered, broke, and ran. About half of our army followed them,
cutting down the fugitives, stabbing and spearing those who fell in
their path. Sharma and I led our men in the chase. The butchery was
almost as callous as the killing at Asjolorm except that now the
fugitives were soldiers, not civilians.

However, even
at this late stage, the pendulum of battle could have swung one
more time. A Dornite leader -- probably their supreme commander,
judging by his the height of the crest on his helmet -- rallied
some of his men on a hillock near the end of the valley. I had to
hand it to the commander and his officers. Within minutes, they
welded a bunch of terrified fugitives into a fighting force that
held the hillock and then advanced down the slope in reasonably
good order as our men turned and ran like a rabble. The panic
spread across the field and soon the pursuers had turned into
fugitives. Fortunately half of our force remained intact, advancing
down the valley without their lances at a quick jog.

Sharma and I
withdrew our men while our troops, the pursuers turned fugitives,
streamed back in retreat. Sharma pointed to the disorderly scene
and grunted, 'Thank Zabrazal for Jainar. Without him, we could be
lost.'

It was true.
Jainar was in control of the half of the army that didn't break
ranks and set off in pursuit. We could see him gesticulating to the
returning troops, giving directions to the officers, and taking
charge of the proceedings. After about ten minutes, the full force
had re-assembled. With Jainar in the lead, they set off down the
valley at a jog. However, by then the Dornites had begun to climb
the eastern heights above the valley. They were safe, out of our
reach. Before long, they would be gone.

It was a great
victory. More than half of the Dornite army remained on the
battlefield, dead or injured, compared with only about two hundred
casualties on our side.

As we rode down
to join the army, Sharma growled, 'Damnation, we could have
destroyed the Dornites completely if our men had kept their heads.
As it is --' He shook his head and cursed.

I replied,
'It's a huge victory. Be satisfied with it, man.'

'But it's not
what it could have been.'

'Get a sense of
perspective, Sharma! This is Keirine's first major victory over the
Dornites.'

'Exactly!
That's why we should have finished the job properly.'

'Are you never
satisfied? We must have destroyed half their army. It'll be a long
time before they recover.'

Sharma shook
his head and grunted in disappointment. He said morosely, 'We could
have had more.'

Our troops
greeted us with a cheer as we approached them. Some of our men
broke ranks to greet friends and comrades but Sharma shouted at
them to get back into line. We dismounted and saluted in front of
Jainar who greeted us with a broad smile and fraternal
embraces.

As I watched
our men dispersing, I drew a deep breath. I felt as if I had
climbed a huge step on a long stairway. I had a mental image of
myself looking backwards down the stairway and then looking upwards
along the climb that still lay before us. An inner voice told me
that if I could get up the step that I had just climbed, I could
handle the rest as well. I drew another deep breath, put my head
back, and closed my eyes. As the excitement ebbed and as my blood
cooled, suddenly I felt lonely. I was a successful soldier with my
own command, celebrated for my achievements, acknowledged by the
king himself. I was standing on the field of Keirine's greatest
triumph, in the midst of the wreckage of the Dornite army,
surrounded by the chatter and celebrations of soldiers relaxing
after their triumph -- but I felt lonelier than I had ever felt
before. I felt hollow, empty, and drained.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN: GOOD ADVICE

After we
disbanded, I rode over to the right flank to find Abozi. To my
relief, he was safe and well. Like everyone else, he was flushed
with the excitement of the victory. We chatted for a while and
agreed to meet later.

While I was
riding back to the centre of the valley, I began to feel feverish
and dizzy. Suddenly I had a pounding headache and my eyes misted
over so that I was viewing the world through an opaque veil.
Feeling myself swaying in the saddle, I leaned forward over my
horse's neck and allowed him to find his own way back. I must have
passed out for a while because the next thing I remember was
Sharma's voice, asking me if I was all right. Someone supported me
in my saddle and called for assistance. It was probably Sharma but
I can't be certain. After that, I can remember nothing.

My fevered
delirium lasted for nearly four days. As I found out later, during
that time, I was carried back to Koraina in a baggage cart together
with a load of wounded soldiers. Along with scores of others, I was
put to bed in a hut that served as a temporary hospital.

I have a few
dazed memories of the time during which I suffered from the fever.
Mostly, I remember images of Dana. I remember having the same dream
that I had after the attack on Asjolorm – the dream that just as I
was about to possess Dana sweetly and eagerly, I looked down and
saw with horror that she was lying under me with her throat cut. I
must have had the dream repeatedly because I recollect that at
least twice – probably more often, I couldn't tell -- the sound of
my own shouts awoke me from my delirium. Sweating, flushed, and
bewildered I pushed myself up against the wall behind me and gazed
dazedly at the crowded hut. In my half-conscious state, the image
of Dana was still with me, more real than my actual surroundings. I
gripped the sides of the bed and looked around in confusion, as if
I expected to see Dana lying next to me or making her way down the
aisle between the rows of beds. Then I dropped back into
unconsciousness.

I also remember
dreaming of Dana being held by someone. Perhaps it was the
Usserdite bandit on the bank of the Great River or perhaps it was a
figure that was conjured up by my dark imagination. The details
weren't clear – it was just some blurred shape behind Dana,
restraining her as she called out and struggled to come to me. In
my dream, I called to her, 'You're safe now, Dana, you're safe.
Come to me.' Then suddenly she was free and there was no one behind
her. She ran towards me, arms outstretched with her garments
billowing airily about her as if a wind was blowing up from the
ground under her feet. I ran towards her but the more I ran, and
the more she ran, the more we remained apart. I called out and
reached towards her, and she did the same, but we always remained
apart until once again I subsided into the dark void of
delirium.

On the fourth
day, my fever broke. At about mid-morning, I opened my eyes, lifted
my head and looked around, sensing that someone was sitting next to
me. I glanced sideways and then closed my eyes as pain pounded
through my head. Someone asked half jocularly, 'Had enough sleep,
eh?'

With my eyes
closed, I muttered, 'My head hurts.'

The voice said,
'At one point, we thought we were going to bury you. Now it looks
like you'll live to fight another day.'

Still with my
eyes closed, I muttered, 'Is that you, Commander Zaliek?'

'It is.'

I opened my
eyes and cautiously squinted towards him. Just as I focused on him,
I felt faint. My head dropped back onto the pillow. Zaliek asked
gruffly, 'Still not feeling so good, eh?'

After another
silence, I managed to mutter, 'How long have I been here?'

'It's four days
since the battle. You spent one night in the wagon and three nights
in this bed.'

'Have you been
here all the time, commander?'

Zaliek snorted.
'Here? All the time? You think I have nothing better to do than sit
next to your bed day and night? Ha! You flatter yourself, Deputy
Commander Jina!'

I was feeling a
little better so I propped myself up against the wall and muttered,
'It's good to see you, commander.'

'I was just
passing by so I thought I would drop in and see how things were.'
Zaliek waggled a finger at me and said, 'A good commander cares
about his men. Remember that.'

'And a good
commander never expects his men to do anything that he won't do
himself.'

Zaliek gave a
short laugh and said, 'Ha! That's true. But nothing will induce me
to get into that bed with you. That's something that you can do on
your own without your commander.'

The pain in my
head was subsiding, my mind was clearer, and my senses were keener
than they were a few minutes earlier. I looked down at the
bedclothes, sniffed, and said, 'Oh, man, I stink.'

'You said it,
my friend, not me.'

'It's
disgusting. I've got to get out of here.'

'Stay calm,
deputy commander, stay calm. You're not well yet.' Zaliek put a
hand on my forehead. His touch was surprisingly light, even
tender.

I felt faint
again and flopped back to a prone position. As I did so, I
muttered, 'I've got to get out of here.'

Zaliek said,
'Don't try to move. I'll get someone to help you.'

After a few
minutes, he came back with an elderly woman with a slatternly
appearance. She picked her nose and looked at me with indifference
until Zaliek roared at her in frustration, telling her that he
would kick her backside if I hadn’t been fed and washed by the time
he returned. As the woman shuffled away muttering to herself,
Zaliek said, ‘After she’s seen to you, you can sleep for a few
hours. I'll call again this afternoon.' I muttered something in
reply and Zaliek said quietly, 'There's something that I need to
discuss with you.' He looked at me meaningfully as if he wanted to
impart a message to me but didn't know how to speak the words.
Then, still looking at me in the same way, he nodded and walked
away.

BOOK: The Blood-stained Belt
6.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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