Dragonwall

19

A tremendous crack sounded from the mountainside, and a bright light flared to Batu's right. Kicking free of his stirrups, he leaped out of the saddle just as a blinding flash struck the horse. A shock-wave jolted the renegade so hard that his teeth snapped together. As he slammed to the ground, the breath fled his lungs and a deafening boom set the earth itself to trembling. The discordant smells of ozone and scorched horse-hide filled the air, then his mount's carcass collapsed across his lower body.

At first Batu thought that his legs had been crushed, then that he was blind, and finally that he was deaf. For several moments, he lay motionless and isolated, his only connection to the world the cold mud beneath his face and the dead weight of his horse across his thighs. Finally, the pressure on his legs eased, his ears started to ring, and the white before his eyes faded to shades of gray. A pair of hands grasped his shoulders and dragged him to his feet.

"Commander! Are you hurt?"

Though it seemed muffled and distant, Batu recognized the voice. It belonged to Jochibi, the grisled veteran whom Yamun had assigned to him as second-in-command. Jochibi's true task, the renegade knew, was to act as the khahan's spy and insure that Batu did not betray his Tuigan master. Fortunately, the task did not conflict with serving as an advisor and adjutant, and the two men had developed a respect for each other.

As Batu regained his feet, he said, "Nothing feels broken." His vision had returned to normal, and he could see his subordinate's face. Jochibi's braids were streaked with gray. On the Tuigan's cheeks were parallel, self-inflicted scars that prevented his beard from growing.

"Another near miss," Jochibi observed.

"Yes," the Shou replied. A hundred yards away, fifty of his bodyguard had already reached the base of the mountain and dismounted. They were alternately firing arrows and clambering up the steep slope in pursuit of Batu's attacker, one of the enemy's red-robed wizards.

The wizard was supported by a dozen of the huge dog-men that the prisoners called gnolls. Easily eight feet tall, the furry brutes stood on their hind legs and used their hands as men did. However, they had the ferocious faces of huge, heavy-snouted dogs, complete with wet black noses, pointed ears, and long, vicious teeth.

As Batu watched, the red-clad wizard left his hiding place and fled along the mountainside, leaving the gnolls to cover his retreat.

"I wish I knew how they were picking me out," Batu said. Though he was dressed exactly the same as his subordinates, it was the fifth time an enemy wizard had appeared behind the lines and tried to assassinate him.

"Magic," Jochibi responded. He grabbed a handful of earth, then kissed it in a superstitious attempt to neutralize the effects of the unnatural art. "The enemy has too much of it. It scares the men and makes them fight like women."

"They may be afraid of magic, but they're hardly fighting like women," Batu replied, pointing at the guards charging up the mountainside. The gnolls were raining arrows down on them, using bows so long and powerful that a normal man could not draw one. The deadly shower did not slow the Tuigan at all.

Jochibi observed the charge for a moment, then spat on the ground. "Tuigan can run faster."

"Perhaps," Batu responded, admiring his subordinate's spirit. "Get me another horse. I want to be at the front of the column when we break out of this deathtrap."

Jochibi bit his lip. "The khahan's orders were to bring you back alive."

"My orders are to get a horse!" Batu snapped.

Jochibi looked away.

"I don't want to miss the real fighting. Do it!"

The Tuigan officer flinched under the sharpness of Batu's command, then said, "By Teylas's breath, you don't have to get so angry. I don't want to miss the fun any more than you." He turned to obey.

While Batu waited for his officer to return, he studied the battlefield. He was in the same pass that Chanar had explored. The gap was sixty miles long and between five and fifteen miles wide. It had taken less than a day to ride through the first half of the canyon, but enemy ambushes had slowed their progress through the second half. It had taken more than two days to cover the last thirty miles.

The army was now within a half-mile of the gap's end. The scouts had reported that an enemy force twice as large as Batu's blocked the exit. As it was still early afternoon, the renegade intended to destroy the defending army before evening. By nightfall, he would be riding into the plains beyond.

Batu smiled at the audacity of his plan. If he had been commanding a Shou army, he would never have tried to do so much. When he had suggested his bold tactics to Jochibi, however, the horsewarrior had simply shrugged and asked why his commander thought there might be a problem.

Even allowing for their horses, the nomads were different from any pengs Batu had ever commanded. What other men considered impossible, the nomads took for granted, and what the Tuigan considered impossible did not exist. Batu was thrilled to command even a small force of such troops. He could hardly wait until he led them into the main battle.

Jochibi returned with an extra mount. It was a black stallion with fiery eyes and barding covering its shoulders and flanks. Patting the horse's armor, the scar-cheeked warrior said, "Judging from the attacks on you so far, your horse is going to need all the protection it can get when we reach the front lines."

"No doubt," Batu said, climbing into the beast's gilded saddle. "Where did you get this?"

"It belonged to one of the khahan's sons," Jochibi replied. "He won't be needing it."

"Dead?"

Jochibi nodded. "He was in the point jagun."

Batu grimaced. That entire patrol had been wiped out by an enemy ambush. "You should of told me!" he snapped, anticipating the khahan's wrath.

Sensing Batu's thoughts, Jochibi shrugged. "There's no need for worry. Odelu died in battle," he said. "Besides, the khahan has many sons. If he blamed a general every time one fell in battle, there would be nobody left to command his armies."

Shaking his head, Batu said, "Let's see what's happening up front." He spurred Odelu's horse forward.

A few minutes later, Batu and his escorts reached the front line. There, the snow-covered valley floor was about ten miles wide. Four thousand Tuigan were stretched out across the entire distance, their line marked by a band of mud churned up by the horses' hooves. The riders were spaced fifteen to twenty feet apart, so the enemy's magical spells would not affect too many men at once. The horse-warriors rode back and forth in small circles, firing at the enemy from their saddles. The remainder of Batu's men, consisting of five fresh jaguns and five that he had used to flush out the ambushers, sat behind the lines as a ready reserve.

The enemy formation was much different. Though he could not see their entire line, Batu knew from scouting reports that there were at least ten thousand gnolls at the exit to the valley. Their line was roughly six hundred feet away, and they were gathered in tightly grouped companies of fifty. These companies were spaced every five hundred feet or so.

When the scouts had reported the enemy deployment, Batu had at first found it strange. After considering the long range of the gnoll archers, however, he had seen the wisdom of their plan. Each group was deployed within arrow range of the next one, so that they had interlocking fields of fire. When any one company was attacked, the two companies to either side could offer support. By clever positioning of his forces, the enemy had effectively tripled his firepower.

Batu considered concentrating his troops for a spearhead charge that would drive through the thin line, but quickly rejected the idea. By the time he gathered his forces, the enemy would see what was coming. They would allow him to charge, but the gnoll's flanks would close in behind the column and engulf it.

As he studied the situation, Batu occasionally saw orange fireballs or white bolts of lightning leap from the center of a gnoll company.

"More magic," Batu observed, pointing at one of the flashes.

Jochibi cringed. "It's enough to frighten a man."

"At least to test him," Batu replied, grinning. He had never before faced an enemy with so much magic, and he was relishing the challenge of countering it.

Jochibi frowned. "Magic is nothing to take pleasure in."

"Nor is it anything to fear," Batu answered, scowling at his adjutant's superstition. "Dead is dead. What difference does it make whether you're hit by an arrow or a lightning bolt?"

Jochibi seemed to relax. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

Batu returned his gaze to the battlefield. After a moment's study, he noted, "Their bows have more range than ours, so fighting from a distance like this is useless. We'll have to charge."

"Agreed," Jochibi responded. "What about their flying horses?"

"Flying horses?" Batu asked, astonished.

Jochibi pointed at the horizon, where a flock of specks was circling far behind enemy lines. "Perhaps they're not horses, I can't tell. They are definitely flying, though. I'd be concerned about them, if I were you."

Batu squinted at the specks, but could hardly identify them as flying cavalry. "They're just vultures waiting to pick the enemy's bones."

Jochibi frowned. "Since when do vultures fly in formation?" he asked. "Besides, they're too big to be vultures."

"You can see all that?" Batu asked.

Jochibi raised his brow. "Can't you?"

The Shou shook his head in amazement. "You're sure?"

"Of course," Jochibi responded. "I'd say there are about three hundred of them."

Several guards lent their support to Jochibi's contention, getting into a heated debate about whether the number was closer to two hundred or five hundred. Although he had always considered his vision perfect, Batu knew better than to doubt Tuigan eyesight. Over the past two months, their scouts had pointed out many distant landmarks and ridden down hundreds of deer that Batu had not seen.

"They must be holding the fliers in reserve," Batu said, a wave of excitement coursing through his body. The enemy commander, whoever he was, was good-perhaps even as good as himself. The coming battle promised to be one to remember.

"They're trying to lay another trap for us," Jochibi warned.

"A good plan," Batu observed. "If not for your sharp eyes, it would have worked."

The Shou returned his gaze to the battlefield, searching for a way to turn the enemy's cleverness against him. For the first time in months, his mind was completely absorbed in something other than his own feelings.

Finally, Batu's eyes lit on the steep walls of the valley. An idea occurred to him. "Send half the reserve to each side of the valley," he said. "They are to climb as far up the mountainsides as they can, taking their bows and all their arrows."

Jochibi raised an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

"I've seen the khahan execute a false retreat," the Shou answered. "I assume this is a standard tactic?"

"It is."

"Good" Batu replied. He did a little quick math, then said, "We'll attack each gnoll company with two arbans."

Batu did not like the odds. An arban consisted of ten men, so that meant his troops would be outnumbered by a little more than two-to-one as they attacked. However, the khahan was fond of bragging that one of his warriors was a match for any four enemies. Now, the Tuigan would have a chance to prove it.

The renegade Shou continued explaining his plan. "After we've convinced the enemy of our sincerity, we'll feign a rout and disengage. Our retreat path will be along the canyon walls."

Jochibi smiled. "Beneath the arrow cover offered by our reserves."

"If this plan is to work, timing is everything," Batu continued. "We must begin the retreat at the center. You'll ride toward the northern side of the canyon, and I'll ride toward the southern. As we pass each group of soldiers, the drummers will signal for them to disengage. It will be important for us not to turn away from the gnoll line until we've collected the last of our troops from both flanks."

Batu paused to allow Jochibi to ask questions. When the Tuigan remained silent, the Shou finished explaining his plan. "The flying cavalry will almost certainly pursue, and we'll lead them beneath the arrows of our reserves, too."

Jochibi frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. Finally he said, "I don't like it. You're splitting the army. It's too risky."

"It is an intricate maneuver," Batu allowed, a note of eagerness creeping into his voice. "But the reward is worth it. As we ride in front of the enemy line, we'll shower them with arrows. By the time we reach the end, we'll have twenty archers for every target. Their flanks will be annihilated!"

"Only if every detail goes well," Jochibi objected. He met his superior's gaze with steady eyes. "I hesitate to send good men to their deaths on such a chancy plan."

"These men are soldiers!" Batu snapped. "I would not think a Tuigan needed to be reminded of this."

The adjutant scowled. "As you wish," he replied.

Jochibi turned and passed Batu's plan along to five messengers, being careful not to let his own doubts show. After the messengers rode off, Batu and the Tuigan officer waited in bitter silence. Finally, twenty minutes later, the messengers returned with confirmations from the commanders of the five minghans that made up the five-thousand-man army.

Batu drew his sword. Instead of the heavy tao he had taken from Kei Bot, he now carried the slightly curved saber of a Tuigan horseman. It felt warm and natural in his hand.

He turned to Jochibi, who was staring at the battle lines in stoic silence. "Can I rely on you?"

Jochibi drew his gleaming weapon, then kissed its golden quillon. "Your boldness frightens me, Shou. But the orders are issued. I'll do what I must to win the battle."

Batu remembered a similar assurance from Kei Bot. That assurance had turned into betrayal and cost him the victory at Shou Kuan. Jochibi was no Kei Bot, however. The Tuigan had always seemed a selfless and dedicated officer, so Batu thought he could believe the man's words.

"You are a good soldier, Jochibi," Batu said. "With your support, this plan will work-I promise."

"That's the emptiest promise anyone ever made to me," the Tuigan said, smiling grimly. "If your plan fails, who'll be left to punish you for breaking your word?"

"There's no place in the eighteen hells where I could hide from you, I'm sure," Batu replied.

With that, Batu spurred his horse forward. Screaming the Tuigan war cry, the hundred members of his bodyguard followed. As they passed through the forward line, the drummers sounded the advance. Within a minute thousands of barbarian warriors were galloping toward the enemy in a long thin line.

Almost immediately, crude arrows began to rain down on the Tuigan. Fortunately, the gnolls were not nearly as accurate with their weapons as the horsewarriors were with theirs. Out of the corner of his eyes, Batu saw only a few men falling, and it was a rare thing for a gray shaft to flash past his own face.

The Tuigan drums stirred a wild exhilaration in man and beast alike. Nevertheless, Batu did not feel carried away by his mount, as he had at Shou Kuan. Even with his bodyguard behind him, there were far fewer horses crowded into a small area, and the Tuigan were experts at controlling their mounts. The big black stallion simply kept pace with the other horses, advancing at a steady, rhythmic gait.

At one hundred yards, the Tuigan archers began to return the gnolls' fire, and to guide their horses toward companies of dog-men. Though the horsewarriors were firing on the move, many of their arrows found their marks. A few of the furry brutes began to drop, clawing furiously at feathered shafts protruding from their simple leather armor. To Batu's amazement, others simply broke off the shafts and nocked another arrow in their own bows. The archery of the wounded gnolls was weak and inaccurate, but Batu was impressed that they continued to fight at all.

As the Tuigan neared the enemy lines, Batu looked toward the flying specks Jochibi had pointed out. They had already moved closer, and the renegade could see that each one looked like a tiny "V" For him to see their wings from so far away, he realized, the creatures had to be much larger than any bird. They were flying toward the center of the battlefield, probably hoping to break the Tuigan line.

Batu smiled. They could not have picked a strategy better suited to his plan.

The sudden eruption of a fireball jarred him out of his elation. A glob of flame appeared to his left, engulfing four riders in its orange sphere. Batu's horse whinnied in fright and stumbled, but the Shou kicked its flanks and the beast recovered its footing.

A moment later, a dozen red streaks flared out of the closest gnoll company. They flashed past the Shou's head, each one striking a rider and leaving a burning hole in the man's chest. The magicians had started to do their work.

Batu glimpsed a red robe in the company directly ahead. He pointed at it. "The wizard!" he cried, screaming as loud as he could to make himself heard over the drums. "Shoot the wizard!"

No sooner had he screamed than a dozen Tuigan arrows flew directly at the figure. They smashed into an invisible barrier and fell to the ground. In the next instant, the wizard vanished.

It did not matter, for magic would not stop the charge now. The Tuigan were so close that the gnolls-at least the ones who still stood-were dropping their bows in favor of battle-axes and morning stars. Batu noted that his own troops were holstering their bows and drawing sabers. In another instant, the charging horsewarriors would smash into the gnoll companies and the melee would begin.

Batu used that instant to check the progress of the flying cavalry. The formation was so close that he could see the mounts did not resemble horses at all. Each beast had the head, wings, and forequarters of a giant eagle, while the tail and hindquarters were those of a huge lion. Although he had heard stories about such creatures and knew they were called griffins, he had always believed the animals to be little more than imaginary.

On each griffin's back rode a red-robed wizard and a rider armed with a lance and bow. Batu noted with pleasure that neither the rider nor his passenger wore armor, undoubtedly to avoid burdening the griffin with extra weight.

He had no more time to study the fliers. Batu's horse crashed into a gnoll company, and he was engulfed in a mass of gray fur. A pair of huge hairy hands reached for him from the left side. The dog-man's breath filled the air with the stench of carrion and half-digested meat. The beast was barking commands to another gnoll in a coarse, guttural language.

Batu slashed at the beast's hands. A huge fist fell to the ground, leaving nothing but a bloody stump behind. The wounded gnoll growled and lunged for the Shou. The renegade pulled his foot from the stirrup and kicked the dog-man square in the forehead. The blow would have felled a man, but the gnoll only snarled and knocked Batu's leg aside.

Batu slashed with his sword again, this time opening a gash in the beast's hairy throat. The gnoll roared, then slapped his good hand over the wound and backed away. The Shou turned to his right, just in time to see the flanged head of an iron morning star sailing at his face. Batu ducked, but knew his reflexes would be too slow.

A sword flashed past his ear, then connected with the morning star's chain. The deadly ball looped around the blade, a flange slicing Batu's cheek open. The rest of the weapon missed his face by less than an inch.

In the next instant, Jochibi wrenched the morning star from the hands of Batu's attacker, then urged his horse forward to trample the growling brute.

"Thanks, Jo-"

Before Batu completed his acknowledgement, a powerful hand seized his belt. Already unsteady from his narrow brush with the morning star, the Shou nearly lost his balance and slipped from his horse. Grasping the saddle's pommel, he jerked himself back into the seat, then kicked at his unseen attacker without removing his foot from the stirrup. His heel connected with an armored chest, then Batu swung around and ran his saber through the yellow-toothed gnoll's throat.

As he pulled his blade free, a shadow passed over the battle. Six golden balls of magical energy flashed out of the sky, killing six men. Batu looked up and saw a griffin swooping low overhead. The wizard atop the monster held his hand outstretched and pointed at the melee below him. The griffin's other rider allowed the beast to swoop safely past the battle, then wheeled it about for another pass.

At the same time, Batu saw a gnoll step toward him. He spurred his horse, and it pushed its way forward to where Jochibi had just separated a beast's head from its shoulders. All around the Tuigan, the ground was carpeted with fallen gnolls. Nevertheless, their fellows pressed the attack, wildly swinging their maces and morning stars. Often, the dog-men had forsaken weapons altogether and were using bare hands to drag the Tuigan from their saddles.

They were meeting with entirely too much success. In Batu's group alone, nearly half the horses were riderless. Farther away, in the companies to either side of the renegade's, the story appeared to be much the same. He saw many empty horses and, fortunately, plenty of fallen gnolls. Near each group were three griffins bearing a wizard and a rider. While the riders guided the flying mounts, the mages flung various magical bolts, beams, and rays into the melee.

The gnoll that Batu had avoided earlier came up behind him. Just as the beast swung its morning star, the Shou turned his mount to meet the attack. The spiked ball bounced of the black horse's barding, then the stallion reared and thrashed the gnoll with its front hooves. When the horse dropped back to the ground, Batu finished the cringing dog-man with a swift chop to its collarbone.

"Time to leave!" Batu shouted, trying to make himself heard above the clamor of battle. When Jochibi showed no sign of hearing him, the Shou slapped is subordinate's leg with the flat of his blade. The grisled Tuigan twisted around, his guard raised. "I thought you were dead!"

"I am," Batu responded. "But the judges of the hells have allowed me time for a few battles more."

Another griffin swooped overhead, and a fireball erupted on the edge of the company. A half-dozen men, horses, and gnolls screamed in agony as the orange flames engulfed them.

"By now, the enemy should be convinced of our sincerity," Batu said.

"Agreed," Jochibi responded. "Let's go!"

Without waiting for Batu's command, the Tuigan spurred his horse and pushed his way out of the melee. An instant later, Batu turned his horse in the opposite direction and broke free of the fray. As the renegade and his adjutant bounded away, the nearest drummers silenced their instruments.

Within moments, the area was empty of Tuigan, and the Shou was riding past the next group of gnolls with more than twenty warriors at his back. As the drummer assigned to this melee saw Batu pass, he silenced his instrument. The horsewarriors disengaged and joined the retreat.

Batu could not help but admire the precision of the maneuver. As the time came, each man executed his orders flawlessly, regardless of what else was happening at the moment. Even in the heat of battle, there was none of the confusion common to Shou maneuvers. Batu continued past melee after melee collecting his troops with drill-field precision.

As expected, the retreat took the enemy by surprise. For several minutes the griffin riders did not pursue. By the time the airborne cavalry reorganized themselves and turned to the chase, Batu was only two miles from the valley walls. With him rode nearly five hundred warriors that he had collected from the melees along the line.

Even in retreat, his troops were dealing a serious blow to the gnolls. As their fellows disengaged and joined the retreating army, the Tuigan archers, accustomed to firing on the gallop, unleashed a volley of arrows. The deadly shafts rained down on the defenders like a hail storm. The massed fire was so accurate that barely a handful of gnolls escaped each time the archers fired on an enemy company.

As the Tuigan approached the next melee, it was the enemy who tried to disengage and run. Having seen what had happened when the mounted archers passed the last company, the gnoll officers had no wish to meet a similar fate. The Tuigan, however, were accustomed to battling fleeing adversaries and did not allow them to escape. As the gnolls turned their backs, the horsemen tarried long enough to cut them down, then joined the rest of their fellows.

The same thing happened as the riders approached the next three companies. Batu began to fear that the efficiency of his archers had alerted the flying cavalry to his plan. The Tuigan were only a mile and a half from the canyon walls, and the griffins still had not caught up.

With less than a mile to go before reaching the flank, two hundred griffins finally gathered into a formation behind the barbarians. Unfettered by the presence of their own troops, the wizards showered the Tuigan with horrible, destructive magic. Walls of fire and ice appeared in the middle of the Tuigan retreat. Struggling to avoid the obstacles at a full gallop, dozens of men and horses tumbled to the ground. Black clouds rained death down on small numbers of riders. Once, twenty horses drifted high into the air, then came crashing back down on their fellows.

Four hundred yards from the canyon wall, the Tuigan retreat turned into a genuine rout. Under the withering, airborne attacks, the barbarian horsemen could no longer ignore their fear of magic. The last few gnoll companies escaped intact, but Batu was not concerned. His troops had already dealt so much destruction that the enemy army was ruined for all practical purposes.

Besides, the rout would only serve to draw the griffin riders into his trap, and that was worth the lives of a few dozen gnolls. If his plans were to succeed, the enemy fliers had to be so caught up in pursuit that they did not notice their danger until it was too late.

The Tuigan and their pursuers reached the canyon wall. The retreating horsemen turned east along the base of the mountains, just as Batu had planned. Looking around, the Shou estimated that he had perhaps a thousand riders with him. Assuming that Jochibi had a similar number on the other side the of the valley, that meant he had lost two thousand men to the gnolls and the magic. The number was a large one, but he knew the figure would have been a lot higher if Jochibi's sharp eyes had not spotted the griffin formation before the battle began.

They continued along the base of the canyon for several more minutes, the enemy in close pursuit. Batu saw no sign of his reserves on the canyon walls, but he had too much faith in the Tuigan warriors to doubt that they were there. A few moments later, the sweet music of twanging bowstrings filled the air, and the Shou twisted around in his saddle to see what had happened.

He was greeted by the sight of chaos in the air. Over a hundred wounded or dead griffins were dropping to the ground. Their panicked riders were leaping free or trying in vain to pull the beasts back into the air. The Tuigan reserves stood along the mountainside, their shoulders and heads still white from the snow that had hidden them only moments before.

As the renegade watched, the reserves fired their second volley. Every arrow found its mark. Another forty griffins plunged to the earth, six arrows apiece protruding from their throats and flanks. Those that remained airborne, no more than a dozen, turned and flew away toward the west.

Batu screamed for joy.

He gradually pulled back on his horse's reins and signaled his men to reverse directions. Even without the griffins in pursuit, it required more than two minutes to bring the retreat under control. Eventually, however, the Shou sent his soldiers back to finish the few griffin riders who had survived the ambush.

As Batu watched the barbarians dispatch the survivors, his heart filled with a warm feeling. The attack on the gnolls was the finest maneuver he had ever executed. He had decimated a force twice as large as his own, and he had eliminated the enemy's greatest tactical advantage, its flying cavalry.

A sensation of elation came over him. He had not experienced such a feeling since earning his promotion to first-degree general and winning Wu's hand. A pang of sadness struck Batu as he thought of his wife and then his children, but he no longer felt empty or lonely. They would always be a cherished part of his life, but the sense of fulfillment that he now experienced left no room for doubt: his destiny had always been to make war.

Perhaps, in joining the Tuigan, Batu was returning to the people of his destiny. Like the fierce Tuigan, he had always been an impatient and forceful man, and he had always lacked the grace and elegance of the Shou race. It was possible that his great grandfather's blood still ran in his veins, that he would find a more fitting home with the Tuigan than he had ever found in Shou Lung. Only time would tell, he knew, but for now the renegade was content to ride with the horsewarriors.