Chapter-3-2

⁠—⁠—⁠— II ⁠—⁠—⁠—

Hours before the attack on the Sem encampment, the Mongauli army had made its preparations, commands flying swiftly among the ranks as they gathered in the darkness.

“Quiet! Don’t make a sound!”

“No talking!”

“Keep the horses silent. Bind their muzzles with cloth so they don’t neigh.”

“Be careful with those swords. Don’t let ’em clang on your armor.”

“Soldiers, see that the wheels of those carts are well-oiled!”

Then, even as the orderlies continued to scurry back and forth with last minute directives, the massive force swung solemnly into motion. Astrias rode at the head of the vanguard, with Pollak at his side. Earlier the young captain had volunteered for scouting duty and had had the good fortune to locate the hiding place of the united Sem tribes. For the first time he had won Amnelis' unqualified praise. Now he was as jumpy as a young colt; he knew, as did every member of the grim army around him, that the coming battle would be the final one—or at least it was sure to lead to a grand confrontation.

We won’t let them escape again.

We will fight to the finish. This day will be remembered as the day the last Sem fell.

When this battle is over, we will be able to return to dear Mongaul, across the waters of the Kes.

Throughout the army each warrior’s thoughts were different, but the mood in the hearts of all was the same. All had heard the orders that outlined the battle plan:

“The entire army will halt before reaching the oasis where the Sem are camped, and separate into two forces. One of the forces will move to the north of the oasis to block the Sem’s retreat, while the main force will attack the Sem’s encampment from the south side. Captain Irrim will command the blocking force, and he will take care to arrange his soldiers in a wide crescent to prevent any Sem from slipping away to the east or the west as well. In the unexpected event that the Sem become aware of our forces before the deployment is complete, a trumpet will sound. In that case the entire army will attack immediately from the south, but Captain Irrim will drive straight through the Sem’s forces, reform his troop, and maneuver to intercept the wildlings’ retreat as originally planned.

“It is of the utmost importance that the Sem are given no chance to prepare themselves for the battle. Once the order to charge is given, all soldiers will advance furiously to attack, and destroy the barbarians completely. None are to be left alive, except for the leopard-headed monster, the traitor Eru of Argon, and the twins of Parros—those four shall be taken captive. But all of the Sem must perish. The very shape of the Sem shall be erased forever from Nospherus!”

The wrathful words simmered with the desire for revenge that burned in Amnelis' heart. Yet for all the fury that drove it, the advancing army moved cautiously, its maneuvers coordinated to maintain the advantage of surprise against the Sem. Astrias' red knights rode at the vanguard, followed by the Alvon red who had lost their commander Leegan. Behind them came the subdued black knights of Talos Keep, with the injured Tangard riding in the rear. Vlon and Lindrot led the white knights, Amnelis' direct command, its gleaming ranks still two thousand strong and almost untouched by the fighting. Lady Amnelis rode in their midst with her two runecasters and their portable shrines, with Feldrik’s handpicked knights as her personal guard. Next came the badly mauled ranks of the footmen, and then finally Irrim’s corps at the rear. These last had to be careful not only to watch out behind them for Sem scouts, but also to be alert for the more monstrous denizens of Nospherus such as the sandworms that were a constant peril.

As the army advanced, the cloth-muffled hooves of the horses raised a dancing haze of dust in the moonless gloom of the desert night. The soldiers marched in silence, afraid lest they make any noise that could draw the attention of wildling sentinels. Like an enormous, mute serpent, the invasion force wended its way through the darkness, trailing a wake of fine sand that hung like a deeper shadow behind them.

Once, the Mongauli troops had formed a mighty army of fifteen thousand, led by eight lord-captains including the renowned Count Marus. But that was before they had left the familiar line of the River Kes and struck deeply into Nospherus, battling strange enemies at every turn. Now Count Marus and Viscount Leegan were dead, and Captain Tangard was wounded, and the army’s numbers had fallen to less than ten thousand. Nonetheless they made a proud army as they began their latest journey.

“Did I underestimate Nospherus?”

“Lady?”

Palanquins conveyed the runecasters on either side of the white horse which Amnelis rode; to her left the curtains of one lifted a little to reveal the dull gleam of eyes. A low voice spoke from within.

“Did you say something, my lady?”

“It is nothing, Gajus. I was talking to myself.”

Amnelis raised her reins and waved him back. A commander-in-chief should show no doubt or indecisiveness as she rode to a battle, not even to her staff. Such matters could be discussed later, in the privacy of the command pavilion. The lady pulled her visor down and spoke in a bare whisper only she herself could hear.

“This land is as vast as it is barren. Endless sand, and endless stone… It is too vast! If I had more than fifteen thousand —if I had one hundred thousand, or more—it would have been easier. Who could have foreseen such resistance from the Sem? Now little is left of our supplies of food and water. If this desert fighting is prolonged much more by Sem resistance, we will need to fall back to a defensive line. We might even need to consider returning home, but that’s the last thing I want, that would make our work here almost pointless. If we retreat, the Sem are bound to regather their forces and escape to the northern mountains. That would destroy our morale. It would be like building a castle in the sand, to see it blown away in the wind.”

“Gajus,” Amnelis lifted her visor a little bit and pitched her voice softly so it wouldn’t carry far.

“Yes?”

“Gajus, what do you think? Do you think it would be wise to send a small troop under Feldrik back to the river to meet the troops waiting there, and return with the reinforcements which should be at Alvon by now?”

“Well…”

“Or should I instruct them instead to establish a supply line? I don’t want this difficult campaign to drag on. If we are successful in defeating the Sem this time, we can return to our defense line, and I want to start afresh building a fort. To be honest with you, I’m concerned about Torus. And I am anxious, too, about the crystal city. Count Polan was made proxy commander of the Parros occupation suddenly and without preparation. And right before we left the Crystal Palace, I had begun to see signs that the remnants of Parros' soldiery had established a force of partisans to resist the occupation.” Amnelis slipped her hand beneath her helmet and pushed back her blond hair in annoyance. “Yes, all that is making me somewhat anxious.”

“Indeed, my lady,” Gajus said in a flat contemplative voice. “As to your question… Perhaps the fighting here will all be settled by the time any reinforcements could arrive. And if it is not, then I think that even with reinforcements it would be difficult to exterminate the Sem with their forces scattered across this desert.”

“You are saying that it’s not necessary to send for reinforcements yet.”

Amnelis felt somewhat heartened by his words. He seemed to have drawn conclusions similar to her own.

Gajus continued: “My lady, if you wish at least to send the reinforcements at Alvon a message, you must advise them that the situation is always changing; they would need to be prepared to move at any time. It would be difficult to predict where they should meet us.”

“Yes. That’s what I was thinking, also. The running battles we are fighting confuse directions rather quickly. Yet it would be wise, at least, to let the backup force know our current location.” Amnelis spoke as if in deep thought. “As you know, we have come deep into the interior of this country—we can no longer even see a shadow of the Kes River in the distance. Yet this is only one step into the desert. We still haven’t located the valley that Cal Moru speaks of. This wasteland must continue far beyond the stony mountains. Gajus, Nospherus is truly vast.”

“Indeed, it is vast.”

Amnelis seemed on the verge of saying more, but after a moment she reconsidered, and spurred her horse on ahead. Heavy silence enveloped the command group once again.

The advance continued. The desert spread out before the army in gentle undulations, like the calm surface of a dark ocean. Even as the Mongauli neared the oasis that was their goal the land did not appear to change, creating a feeling of unreality for the advancing men that was only broken by an occasional shrill shriek or other disconcerting noise. Once, a soldier screamed as he was grasped and pulled under by the long feeler of a mouth-of-the-desert. Another time, a crashing sound broke the quiet as one of the vanguard thrust his spear through a bigeater that had appeared silently from the darkness; the knight pulled his weapon free only to have the bigeater bite it in half with a dry snap and then disappear as noiselessly as it had come.

“Quiet!”

Every time the silence was broken, the offenders were sharply reprimanded, with little sympathy shown even to those who had fallen victim to some monster of the desert. Without realizing it, the Mongauli had slowly grown accustomed to the ways of Nospherus and the strange deformed creatures that prowled its wastes. And so, steadily, the army marched on, jealously guarding its cocoon of quiet. The only sounds tolerated were the low voices of messengers sent by Amnelis to relay orders. Reports of directions and words of encouragement for the soldiers, these murmured messages made no echo in the desert. A strange stillness, like the calm before a storm, had settled over Nospherus. Nights in the wasteland were usually as quiet as death, but on this night in particular the silence was felt keenly by the Mongauli. It carried with it the menace of the madness of battle that was expected before sunrise.

The night march had begun without the moon to light the way, for although the silver orb had risen in the sky, a bank of clouds, unusual in Nospherus, had appeared to hide its cool radiance. For a time the soldiers walked as shadows in the desert. Then at last the changeable Moon Goddess Aeris in her hazy dress peeked from the clouds’ darkness to stripe the landscape with bands of pale glitter and wavering gloom. Stars became her little followers, serving also as guides to the watchful knights below. As the Mongauli advanced it seemed to them that the sky drew closer, leaning down as if it meant to fall on them; but despite the strange illusion it never came down to walk among their ranks. Sometimes a wind touched the soldiers’ faces, bringing without fail clumps of soft white angel hair to cling to them, but these strange visitations no longer surprised or alarmed the Mongauli troops, who knew the ghostly strands to be harmless, just one more of the bizarre phenomena that constantly reminded any traveler he was journeying in Nospherus. Again and again angel hair landed on men, horses, and their gear, only to melt away noiselessly, leaving no residue behind. The Mongauli paid little heed to these short-lived wind flowers, marching on indifferently as the weird Nospherus night drew down about them.

Astrias rode proudly at the head of the force, knowing that the entire army followed him towards the final battle. Although he had scarcely slept over the past few days, his face was bright and eager, and his eyes peered intently into the darkness; he was determined not to miss anything that might affect the success of the attack, any hint of what was to come—a tiny reflection of water from the oasis, the dim shadow of a sentry ahead. Leading the vanguard was the great chance of which he had always dreamed. Jarn had gifted him with this great opportunity to distinguish himself, and to gain the lady’s attention—maybe even her affection. Young officer though he was, Astrias cherished no hope of high promotion, nor did he fully expect to ride at Amnelis' side as consort, although she was two years younger than he—yet not because such ambitions were beyond his means. His father was a count from an old family who in his position as Lord Defender of Torus had gained the trust of Archduke Vlad. Astrias, as the first son, could look forward to succeeding to the peerage, and if he rendered sufficiently distinguished service in the army, he might very well be made General of the Left. His family background, good breeding, and age were all more than satisfactory. Should the archduke decide to solidify his foundation by finding a son-in-law within Mongaul for his daughter, rather than arranging a strategic marriage with some royal family, Astrias would be one of the candidates, along with Maltius, son of Marus—and, had he not fallen, Viscount Leegan.

Astrias tried not to base any hopes on such distant chances, however. It was not that he did not dream about it—he loved Amnelis, his first, unspoiled love, wholeheartedly, with an admiration that was akin to worship. And he recognized his feelings for her. But Astrias was a single-minded, honorable, and earnest youth, and he felt that pining for his lady’s love, or imagining a future as her husband, was not only impure, but also blasphemous. Yet no honor that he could receive would mean anything to him if he did not also gain the attention of the beautiful lady. For Astrias, a few words of praise from Amnelis—a smiling “good job” or “great achievement”—far outweighed any compliment or decoration any other could give; even a peerage granted for heroism would have no meaning for him unless it came with the lady’s approval. I want to be a perfect knight for Lady Amnelis. I would die to guard her life. That is the reason I was born, and nothing can turn me from that path. His young, indomitable passion burned with the purest form of love and drove him on to strive his utmost for the glory of her approval.

It must be through the good offices of Janos that my scouting squad was allowed to find the oasis of the Sem. Fueled by this passionate conviction, Astrias felt the impatience build within him as the army at his back plodded slowly through the desert on the unsteady, cloth-bound hooves of the horses. His knees clenched tighter against the sides of his charger, and he had to restrain himself from rushing on ahead.

Meanwhile, far behind the young captain of the red, the palanquins that bore Gajus and Gal Moru glided silently on either side of Amnelis, who rode deep in contemplation as if she were alone in the desert. Further back in the rearguard, Captain Irrim thought about his close friend Tangard’s pale, bloodied face, scarred by misfortune, and gritted his teeth, his hatred growing. Throughout the ranks warriors of every station found themselves beset by troubling thoughts and secret determinations as the shadows of Nospherus swirled around them.

The Mongauli army halted once during the night march, pausing for a brief break before reforming quickly to press on again.

Onward! Onward!

As they continued their advance, Aeris rode the sky above, slipping in and out of the scattered clouds as if she competed with those on the ground and urged them to keep moving on.

“Time, Gajus.”

“’Tis less than two twists of the hourglass until sunrise.”

“So soon?” Amnelis bit her lips, and then spoke as though spitting. “If the sun rises, we lose all that we have gained, and are right back where we started. Is the oasis so far away? Astrias said it was not far from our encampment. Surely we have come far! What…” She looked around as though seeking someone more dependable than Astrias, and then rose up in her stirrups, gazing into the predawn darkness ahead. And there, just at the edge of sight, the faintest of glimmers caught her eye—

“Ahh! Look!” a sudden, quiet hum of voices rippled back from the front ranks as the knights were stirred from their silence by excitement.

“That must be the Sem oasis!” Amnelis announced with satisfaction. “It looks to be a mere gallop ahead. Do you see it? Very well—Feldrik, relay the command! All troops are to cease the advance and prepare for maneuvers!”

“Yes, my lady.” Feldrik gestured for an orderly to relay Amnelis' order to his subordinates. A moment later, however, she stopped him short.

“No! Wait for a moment.” Suddenly, the lady-general’s face betrayed a new tension. She was gazing forward to where two red knights armored in bright crimson were making their way from the vanguard back through the ranks of the main force. They were two of Astrias' aides, and the Lady Amnelis' face hardened.

A little while earlier, at the fore of the vanguard, Viscount Astrias was nearly dancing for joy as he recognized the familiar features of the terrain.

“Excellent—we are nearly there!”

During his scouting squad’s journey back from the Sem oasis, he had overseen the placement of markers to guide the army’s return. Pollak had just retrieved the last of these, cheerily jumping down from his horse to seize it.

“This is it without doubt, captain!”

“Good. Gallop back to inform the Lady General. We will prepare our formation to attack immediately.” His voice lowered, Astrias leaned forward eagerly and gazed towards the great oasis where he was sure the forces of the Sem still lay in the oblivion of sleep. Yet as his keen eyes swept the scene his body suddenly grew tense.

“Any problem, sir?” his lieutenant Pollak, who had been watching his commander intently, asked in surprise.

“Yes—wait a moment. Something is amiss…” Astrias' voice was heavy with uncertainty. “There is movement among the Sem troops. There is a lot of activity going on! Don’t you think so, Pollak?”

“If you say so, I feel—”

“I wonder if they’ve noticed us.”

Astrias and Pollak looked at each other in the darkness. If the Sem had become aware of the approaching army, the Mongauli surprise attack would be a complete failure.

“Shall we send a scouting party?”

“Yes. But don’t use horses. Let them go on foot, and get as close as they can. And hurry!”

“Right away, sir!”

Hustle and bustle quickly spread among the vanguard as the rest of the army began to draw near. Darkness was fading, and the purple hint of sunrise was quickly replacing the black of true night. Swiftly the scouts crept toward their quarry; moments later one of them was already hurrying back to Astrias. With a coughing voice, he reported that there was a great commotion and hurry within the Sem camp.

“Probably they saw us coming, sir. But they seem to have lost their heads. They are running about in all directions within the oasis.”

“Hmm…” A look of vexation passed over Astrias' face, but he quickly came to a decision. “They are confused as they prepare for battle. That means they are not ready, yet, and are still vulnerable. Yes! Dispatch the men, Pollak!”

Immediately the lieutenant sent two red knights at a gallop back to the main force to inform the lady-general of the situation. They flew through the white knights like a gale, reined up sharply in front of Amnelis, and leapt from their saddles, barely pausing to bow.

As soon as she had heard their report Amnelis reached her decision.

“The entire army will launch an all-out assault!”

Swiftly the orders spread.

“An all-out assault!”

“Destroy the Sem completely!”

Fiercely a trumpet sounded. Not one among the thousands hesitated an instant as the army sprang into action. No longer were voices lowered or horses held back; the knights rose in their stirrups and lashed their mounts into a charge, spurring them mercilessly. Like a water snake swimming stealthily that suddenly breaks the surface to strike its prey, the army uncoiled in a furious charge, making the desert sands rise up like smoke with the fury of its passage.

“Mongaul! Mongaul!”

Before them, throughout the oasis, terrible confusion spread like a fire in dry grass.

Aieee! Aieee! Alphetto!

Amnelis brought down her baton.

“Kill the enemy to the last soul! Annihilate them!”

Her clear voice pierced the spreading chaos.