Lord Marak’s eyes rose to the far ridge. He saw Lord Damirath standing with his hands high in the air. More lightning streaked downward as he watched the Pikata lord.
“That is Zygor,” declared Lord Marak, “although most people would now call him Lord Damirath. Pull back to the next position,” he said loudly into the air tunnels.
Lord Marak watched as the forward mages and their archer escorts turned and raced across the first cleared strip and disappeared into the forest. The Jiadin reformed cautiously. Their horses were skittish from the lightning, and it took a while for them to regroup. The lightning ceased and the battlefield grew quiet. When they did reform, the charge was uncoordinated and sporadic. Some groups charged forward while others were still regrouping. The charging Jiadin leaped over the logs and fallen bodies. They shouted loudly as they charged into the trees in search of the enemy.
As the vanguard of the Jiadin gained the cover of the woods, the trees surrounding them began to explode. Hundreds of water mages worked feverishly to expand the tree saps and time the explosions to cause the most damage to the Jiadin. Flying splinters, large and small, hurtled into the Jiadin horsemen and their mounts. Great trees toppled and fell as their trunks disintegrated in a flurry of bursting wood. The few Jiadin that had managed to race through the fury of the forest were felled by arrows as they tried to cross the outermost cleared strip.
“I cannot believe my eyes,” stated Lord Chenowith. “Who would have believed that our mages were capable of such feats? You could have walked this army through each and every clan of Khadora, Lord Marak. Nothing could have stopped you.”
“I am not out to conquer,” replied Lord Marak. “I do not even care to kill these Jiadin. They could be useful to use when the real battle begins.”
The lightning strikes started again as Lord Damirath focused on the new location of the Torak mages. The Jiadin retreated to regroup, the outer band of forest completely gone. Lord Marak frowned as Lord Damirath peppered the defenses with his lightning bolts.
“Pull back some more,” Lord Marak said into the air tunnels.
“We are giving up ground rapidly,” frowned Lord Patel.
“Too rapidly,” agreed Lord Marak. “The mages were meant to eliminate a great many of the Jiadin, but we cannot afford to lose them to Lord Damirath’s lightning. Worse, when our mages are out of the way, he will be free to bring that lightning down on our armies. We must find a way of stopping him.”
“There are still two cleared areas that they must get across,” Lord Quilo pointed out. “Plus we have the trenches. We at least have some time to think of an alternate strategy.”
Lord Marak turned and signaled Botal to approach. “Take your squad out of here,” instructed Lord Marak. “Try to work your way around the Jiadin without being seen. Do nothing foolish, but if you see an opportunity to attack or distract Lord Damirath, do it.”
Botal nodded and gathered his squad together. Lord Jamarat frowned as he watched the small group of men leave.
“One squad cannot penetrate his defenses,” said Lord Jamarat. “Let me take my cortes out of battle and work my way towards this Lord Damirath.”
“A small group has the best chance of getting anywhere near him,” Lord Marak shook his head. “Besides, your men will be needed here shortly. As soon as the Jiadin clear the trenches, this will become a very bloody battle for us. Every man will be needed then.”
“Here they come again,” announced Lord Patel.
Lord Marak watched as the Jiadin raced across the area that had been a forest a few moments ago. Once again great logs from the cleared strip rolled towards them and took to the air. As soon as the first logs slammed into the charging Jiadin, the lightning strikes began anew. The Jiadin charge did not falter this time. The horsemen tried to dodge the flying logs and leap over those who had not been successful. They raced across the destroyed woodlands and the cleared strip. As the Jiadin entered the next band of trees, the air mages turned and ran, even as the water mages began to expand the tree saps.
The trees exploded in a rippling fashion starting at the far edge of the woods as the air mages tried to stay ahead of the destruction. Hundreds of Jiadin were struck down in the explosions and finally the charge halted and retreated.
“One more band of trees and it is time for the trenches,” frowned Lord Quilo. “They do not care how many men they lose. The next charge will not falter.”
“More Jiadin are arriving,” pointed Lord Jamarat.
Lord Marak’s eyes followed Lord Jamarat’s extended arm to the north. On the distant ridge that Lord Damirath occupied, thousands of Jiadin warriors were forming ranks near the north end.
“These ones have not even bothered to wear the uniforms of a clan,” remarked Lord Patel. “There is just something red around their necks.”
“The red scarves of the Jiadin,” commented Lord Marak. “How many do you estimate?”
“Too far to tell,” Lord Jamarat squinted into the rising sun. “Thousands at least, but I cannot estimate them.”
“It hardly matters how many,” sighed Lord Quilo. “There are already enough Jiadin to defeat us.”
“The battle has not yet started,” rebuked Lord Patel. “Lord Marak’s defenses are sound. Even after they clear the trenches, they will have a battle on their hands. Their horses will be no advantage then, and our soldiers are well trained.”
“This battle is far from over,” agreed Lord Marak. “My hope for few casualties appears to be futile, but we will prevail. We must.”
“Here they come again,” remarked Lord Jamarat.
Lord Marak focused on the charging Jiadin. He watched the horsemen charge over the destroyed woods, the cleared strip, and the newly destroyed woods before the flying logs once again began to smash into them.
“Look at the ridge,” urged Latril. “Something there doesn’t make sense.”
Lord Marak tore his eyes away from the charging Jiadin and focused on the far ridge. The red-scarfed Jiadin were racing along the ridge to engage the Pikata warriors.
“They are attacking each other,” remarked Lord Marak as he continued to watch in amazement.
The Pikata horsemen reacted slowly to the unexpected attack. The horsemen had been at rest watching their brethren below attack. They now scrambled to mount a defense even as the first of the Jiadin reached the closest Pikata soldiers. Lord Damirath spun and faced the attackers. He started to rain lightning down on them, but the ground at his feet erupted into showers of dirt as lightning struck all around him.
“There is another mage,” pointed Lord Patel.
Lord Marak’s eyes swept to the northern extreme end of the ridge. He could barely make out a figure dressed completely in black. The mage’s arms were extended upwards as he called lightning from the sky.
“Aakuta,” Lord Marak said under his breath. “What is the dark mage doing in all of this?”
“Whatever he is doing,” offered Latril, “he is aiding our side.”
“Perhaps for now,” nodded Lord Marak as he watched the red-scarfed Jiadin clash with the Pikata warriors, “but I cannot help but wonder what his real goal is. Mages, direct your air tunnels towards the center of the charging Jiadin below us. Maintain the spread that you currently have. I want my voice to be heard by as many of the Jiadin as possible. Everyone else remain quiet.”
Each air mage nodded when her air tunnel was properly positioned. Lord Marak glanced briefly at the Jiadin below as they entered the last forested strip and the trees began exploding.
“Jiadin,” Lord Marak said loudly into the air tunnels, “I am the Torak, ally of the Astor and the free tribes. Your cause is lost. Look to your leader on the ridge behind you. You are being attacked from the rear. You have but one chance to survive. Get yourselves over the Fortung Mountains and live. Stay in Khadora and die. You have one hour before our cavalry starts to hunt you down.”