“The Alceans don’t have enough men to cover all four sides,” retorted the general. “I would be surprised to even find any enemy to our north, but I want to be sure. Besides, General Bledsoe’s men are camped in the southern and eastern sectors of the camp. We need to concern ourselves with the west and the north. Hurry along, Sergeant.”
The sergeant saluted and turned to race northward, but he heard the general’s next words before he was out of range.
“Recall our troops, Colonel,” said the general. “I want our men dispatched to reinforce the western perimeter. General Bledsoe will have to use just the 7th Corps to defend the south.”
Sergeant Dilney ran hard, thankful that the trembling ground and roaring wind had ceased. Without having to suffer the effects of the magical attack, the sergeant was able to weave his way through the camp without delay. As he ran northward, he could hear the sounds of fighting off to his left. He frowned heavily because the fighting sounded much too close. The perimeter was a fair distance away, and he doubted that the black-clad warriors could have penetrated so deeply into the camp in such a short time. He wondered if there was another attack force that the general was not aware of.
As the sergeant approached the northern perimeter, he saw thousands of Federation soldiers streaming from the southwest. Several companies of soldiers stood blocking the northern perimeter facing south. Shouted voices started to reach the sergeant’s ears, and he frowned in confusion.
“They are not human,” shouted one of the soldiers. “You cannot fight against something that will not die.”
“Get back to your assigned positions, or you will die right here,” retorted a colonel. “I will not say it again. My next words will be for my men to fire arrows into the lot of you. Move!”
The complaining soldiers turned and moved off, but their pace was hesitant. Sergeant Dilney made for the perimeter barricade, and the soldiers before him drew their swords and converged on him. The colonel who had just rebuked the others turned towards Dilney with contempt clearly on his face.
“I cannot stomach cowards,” the colonel scowled. “Hang him as an example to the others.”
Sergeant Dilney shouted in horror as he realized that the colonel was talking about him. “Wait! I was sent by General Kozinski to check the northern perimeter. Have you all gone mad?”
“I know you,” scowled the colonel. “Your squad has sentry duty on the western perimeter.”
“It did until just recently,” admitted Sergeant Dilney, “but their time is over. I went to Colonel Shellard to report the attack in the west and General Kozinski sent me up here to see if you were also under attack. What is going on?”
The colonel hesitated and then waved away the sword-bearing guards. “Your brethren at the western perimeter are fleeing the battle like the cowards they are. They think they can flee into the woods to the north. They are afraid of fighting spirits.”
“We are not being attacked by spirits,” replied the sergeant. “I saw the black-clad men. They are warriors of supreme quality, but they are men just like you and me. I take it that the northern perimeter is free of the enemy?”
“No,” answered the colonel. “I have already dispatched a runner to General Kozinski. You must have passed him on the way here.”
Sergeant Dilney turned and gazed across the barricade. It was already too dark to see very far, but he thought he could make out several bodies stretched out on the road.
“What is out there?” he asked.
“I do not know,” answered the colonel. “Some of the cowards got over the barricade before I spread my men out. I gave the order to cut them down, but it was unnecessary. The Alceans did it for us.”
“General Kozinski needs to know what we are facing,” stated the sergeant.
The colonel nodded. “I have been waiting for the order to check it out.” The colonel waved for a captain to come to him. “I want your company to find out what the enemy has out there. Do not engage the Alceans. Just determine their number and return. Be careful. With everything else going on today they are likely to attack without warning.”
The captain saluted and ran off to gather his men. Moments later one-hundred mounted Federation soldiers stood ready to journey out of the encampment. Sergeant Dilney listened as the captain addressed his men.
“I want one squad to move quietly through the trees east of the road,” instructed the captain. “Another squad will do the same on the west side of the road. The rest of us will give you a head start and then come up the road at a gallop. As soon as we make contact, we will turn and retreat. We do not plan to dally long so pay attention. Keep your eyes sharp to see who attacks us. I want estimates of their strength. Once you have that estimate, quietly retreat through the forest. Questions?”
There were no questions and men moved the barricade to allow the cavalry to pass through. Two squads exited the camp and immediately moved off the road and into the trees. The other three squads sat in the middle of the road and waited. When the captain thought enough time had passed, he simply brought his arm up and pointed northward. Three squads of Federation cavalry raced northward along the Coastal Highway. Sergeant Dilney stood next to the colonel and watched them disappear into the darkness. Moments later, the sounds of loud explosions ripped through the air. Cries, shouts, and screams of anguish split the night. Suddenly, the road north of the camp glowed fiery red and flames shot up into the air. Just as suddenly, the area returned to darkness, and the battlefield fell silent. The sentries manning the barricade glanced nervously at one another, wondering if they should keep the barricade open or close it. They looked to the colonel for an answer, but the colonel stood still, staring northward. For several tense moments, no one moved or spoke. Then, through the eerie silence, a single horse’s hooves sounded on the road. Soldiers readied their bows and nocked arrows, waiting for the order to fire, but no order was given.
As the horse came closer, the red uniform of a Federation soldier could be seen. The men manning the barricade uttered muffled gasps before Sergeant Dilney could understand what was coming into the camp. A moment later, he understood. A lone soldier rode his horse through the barricade at a walk. His uniform was shredded and bloody, and he had three arrows sticking out of his chest. One side of the horse bled profusely, thousands of small wooden splinters sticking out of its flesh. The soldier’s mouth moved, but the voice was so soft that the sergeant could not hear the words. He ran to get closer, but he was too late. Both horse and rider fell to the ground, dead.
“What did he say?” the sergeant asked the sentries.
“Just four words,” answered one sentry. “Archers, unicorns, mages, thousands.”
“Close the barricade,” the colonel ordered loudly before turning to the sergeant and whispering, “Carry his words to General Kozinski, and be quick about it. If such a force decides to attack, we will have trouble keeping the men from turning tail.”
The sergeant nodded silently and started running southward. Keeping in mind the encroaching Alcean black-clad warriors to the west, he curved eastward as he raced towards the center of the encampment. He was halfway between the northern perimeter and the center of the camp when he came across one of his own men. The man was running from the eastern perimeter, and Sergeant Dilney altered course to head the man off. He halted in front of the running soldier and demanded that he stop.
“What are you doing in the east?” scowled the sergeant. “Why aren’t you fighting the Alceans in the west?”
“No one is fighting the Alceans in the west,” answered the soldier. “They all fled. I had no choice but to follow. I thought maybe we were ordered to a larger attack in the east, but that was not the case. The first to flee must have overpowered the eastern perimeter guards and tried to escape, but only death awaits us that way.”