He looked up to see Bes coming towards him in a way which demonstrated the point. The infantry leader had been reading a map in the tent, and now, in the shadows of the turom assigned to the mobile unit, he was walking with all four arms thrown forward, questing for anything which might loom unseen in his way.
"Over here, Turkol," Roger said. His own helmet systems, of course, made the area almost daylight-bright ... which gave him an idea.
"God of Water, Your Highness," the infantry commander said. "How are we going to find our way through this?"
"I was just thinking about that," Roger told him. "I think I'll have to break up my Marine squad and let each of them lead a section of the column. We'll move in line until we find out what's happening, and each of the troops will have to hold hands with the men in front of and behind him."
"Okay," Bes agreed, his eyes starting to adjust at least a little. "The good news is that the Boman don't like to move in the dark, either. And they do it slowly. I'll go get the troops lined up."
"And I'll get the Marines," Roger said.
"No!" Despreaux snapped. "We're your bodyguard, not seeing-eye Marines!"
"Sergeant Despreaux, that's an order," the prince said coldly, "and if I bring it to Captain Pahner's attention, which I should not have to do, he'll back me on it. We may very well have a hostile force of unknown size on our flank, and no forces on this side but us. I don't have time to debate with you."
"Who covers your back, Sir?" the squad leader demanded.
"Two Marines," Roger answered, "one of whom will not be you. And you won't be leading a group, either, nor will I. That leaves eight. Go get them ready, and have them report to Turkol. We need to have left already."
Despreaux threw up her hands.
"All right, all right. I get the picture. Yes, Sir, yes, Sir, three bags full. Just do me one favor, Your Highness."
"What?"
"Don't go riding into the middle of a thousand Boman screaming a war chant, okay?"
Roger snorted. "Okay. And do me one favor back."
"What?"
"Don't get yourself killed. I've got plans for you."
"Okay," the sergeant said. "I'll be going now."
Chim Pri reined in at a small stream and strained to hear. The jungle was always alive with sound, yet this time there was something extra. The rain had stopped, temporarily at least, but a wind was blowing through the treetops. It probably presaged yet another rainstorm, which would be irritating enough, but it was also blowing noisy spatters of water off of leaves and vines. It made hearing difficult, yet there was something else, another rustling half-lost in the background sound, but there.
He turned around and realized he could barely see two mounts behind him.
"First three troopers. Move forward and see what that is. And try not to get yourselves killed."
A trio of civan trotted obediently forward, and he heard one of the all-but-invisible troopers grunting in laughter.
"Yes, Sir. We'll try real hard not to get killed."
"You'd better," the cavalry commander said with a grunt of his own. "Anybody who gets killed tonight is going on report!"
It took only a few moments for the civan to thread their way between the trees. But their approach, quiet as it was, was detected, and the night rang with barbarian warcries from hundreds of lungs.
"Gods of Fire and Darkness!" Pri snapped. "What in the three hells did we run into?"
One of the troopers he'd sent forward let loose with all seven shots in one of the newly issued revolvers, and the brilliant lightning bolts of the muzzle flashes showed the cavalry commander dozens of barbarians ... and probably hundreds more behind them.
"Spread out!" he shouted. "I need some sort of accurate count!"
The commander spurred his civan to the south, searching for the tail of the barbarian column as the Boman charged straight into the swirling cavalry of the Basik's Own. Finally, as the shots rose to a crescendo, he decided he'd seen enough.
"Sound the recall!" he ordered the hornmen, who'd somehow kept up through the woods. "Sound a general retreat. Hopefully, they'll fall back to the infantry."
He picked the communicator off his breast as he turned to the northeast, wondering how to tell Roger that the entire force was apparently cut off. Behind him, the horns began to sound.
The enemy was upon them.
"Well, gentlemen, this is what happens when you draw to an inside straight," Pahner said.
"It might not be that bad," Bogess said. "If it's a small force, we can beat it off."
"According to Chim Pri, it's at least a thousand or two thousand," the Marine said, "and our last sizable cavalry force-his-is scattered through the woods and all mixed up amongst them. So it's not going to be easy to stop them."
"Should we stop the loading?" Rus From asked.
"Not unless we have to," Pahner said. "Pull one regiment off of loading duties just in case, but basically, it's up to Roger now. If he beats them, we'll continue as we're going. If he's forced out of position or flanked, we'll start pulling troops off of loading to form a front facing towards D'Sley." The Marine paused and shook his head. "Did I just say what I think I said?"
"You said we should pull a battalion off of loading and that it's up to Roger," Bogess said. "Is that what you mean?"
"Yes," the captain said with a grimace. "I'm supposed to be protecting Roger, not the other way around. This is not going to look good in my report."
"You have to write the report for it to look good or bad," Rus From said with a grunt of laughter. "Let Roger look out for himself."
"Lord, Lord, Lord," the Marine groaned. "His mother's going to kill me."
Roger dropped his pad into its pouch and shook his head. He already knew the terrain, and there was nowhere to anchor his flank. There was a stream not too far behind them, though, that would work to control the line.
"Turkol, we're backing up to the far side of the stream. Put one company in reserve, spread the other three in a line, and start working out a light defense work. Have them dig in good; we're not backing up any further."
"Got it," the infantry battalion commander said. "What about the flanks?"
"If we can get the cavalry back in, we'll have it cover them. Until then, I'll split the Marines and put them in place as security teams." He thought about it for a moment more, but there wasn't much else to do. "Move."
"Roger," Pri said into the communicator, "where the hell are you? And where the hell am I, for that matter?"
"Do you remember crossing a small stream on your way out?" the prince responded, gazing at the icon the location transponder in Pri's communicator had thrown up on the map on his pad.
"Yes, I'm on the same trail we followed on the way out, I think." The cavalry commander looked around. He heard occasional pistol shots behind him, but he had at least half his command regrouped.
"We're setting up on the stream. Are you in contact with the Boman?"
"No," Pri said. "Not as an organized body, at least. Some of my people are still out there, and I can hear them shooting, but it's blacker than the inside of an atul's nest, and I can't see crap. We broke contact as soon as we realized we were outnumbered, though, and I'm pretty sure my stragglers all know which way to head."
"Well, get back down there. Stay together this time, and hit them hard, then fall back in contact. We need them to come to us from the direction of our choice, and the only way to make sure they do is for you to lead them right in. We've got you on our pads and helmet HUDs, and Despreaux or I can guide you, roughly, at least, if you lose orientation on our position."