“We haven’t forgotten,” Sa’ar said. “But with your magic, we thought you might be more useful attacking from inside Orofin.”
“If the attack on the breaches goes poorly, then nobody will attack from inside the fortress,” Ruha countered. “There is a more important consideration, though. If the warriors are to fight with all their spirit and not worry about bad omens, they must see Lander in the vanguard.”
Utaiba nodded thoughtfully. “And so must the Zhentarim,” he agreed. “Otherwise, they’ll worry about where the Harper is, and then they won’t abandon the tunnel.”
Sa’ar regarded the pair for several moments, then finally nodded his accord. “If that is what you think best, then it is decided. Let us go outside and prepare the warriors.”
Nineteen
The Bedine were ready to attack. At’ar had just shown her flaxen orb above the horizon, and the goddess’s amber light was creeping across the saffron desert. Orofin was surrounded by a dozen tribes, each clustered tightly about its sheikh and waiting two hundred and fifty yards from the fortress’s dark walls. Most of the warriors were mounted on their camels, waiting directly in front of the breach they had been assigned to attack.
Two of the tribes were not mounted, however. The khowwans of Utaiba and Didaji waited behind the other tribes on opposite sides of the fortress, their warriors standing next to their camels with impatient expressions on their faces. These two tribes were being held in reserve. They would not join the battle until the Zhentarim began to crumble. Only then would they charge the weak spot. The invaders would either have to respond by drawing their own reserves away from the secret tunnel, or risk having the Bedine punch a hole in their defenses. It was a nuance of the plan that the sheikhs had not originally explained to Ruha, but one of which she thoroughly approved.
Sa’ar and his tribe, along with the Bai Kabor and their sheikh, were hiding near the tunnel mouth where the Zhentarim could not see them. They would not move from their hiding places until Sa’ar’s observers reported that both Utaiba and Didaji had lead their tribes into battle.
Atop a small hill overlooking Orofin’s fortifications, Ruha sat on her camel next to Yatagan, the toothless sheikh of the Shremala. With them was Utaiba, for his Raz’hadi were standing in reserve behind the Shremala. When the fighting started, Ruha would stay with Utaiba and the Raz’hadi. In their final pre-battle conference, the sheikhs had all agreed that it would be wiser to see what surprises the Zhentarim had for them before committing their witch to battle.
Ruha was shivering, for she was dressed only in Lander’s aba and keffiyeh. Fearing that there would be no chance to remove a jellaba after the battle began, the widow had elected to endure the early morning chill in dress that would be appropriate for later in the day. Utaiba, however, sat huddled deep within his heavy jellaba, and Yatagan wore one of the heavy night furs of his tribe over both shoulders. The toothless sheikh was holding his camel’s reins taut to keep the spirited beast from capering.
In contrast to those around her, Ruha felt eerily calm. She had no idea whether she or any of the Bedine would live to see dusk. Still, she was not afraid and felt no apprehension about what lay ahead. It seemed as if someone else were riding the Harper’s mount, preparing to join the charge that would result in a thousand deaths.
Yatagan leaned toward Ruha, then motioned at an empty camel behind her. “Unless the witch sees some reason to wait, I will signal the others to start the attack.”
Yatagan did not really believe that Ruha was sitting invisible on the empty mount. Like the other sheikhs, he knew that the witch had taken Lander’s face in order to keep the men from learning of the Harper’s death. He was simply playing out his part of a little charade Utaiba had proposed.
Realizing that the warriors would wonder where the witch was, the wiry sheikh had suggested that Ruha lead an empty camel behind hers. Yatagan would pretend that the widow was invisible, and Ruha-Lander would explain that the witch’s beast had to be led so she could have both hands free to work her magic during the battle. Once Ruha began using her magic, Utaiba also hoped that the warriors would assume that it was the invisible witch who was casting spells, instead of “Lander.”
It was a complicated scheme, but so far it was working. The warriors knew nothing about magic, so they were perfectly willing to believe that the witch had turned herself invisible. Ruha had suggested it might simplify things for her to assume her own identity and claim that Lander was invisible, but the sheikhs had all feared that the men would find it much easier to believe that a witch had turned herself invisible rather than someone else.
Realizing that Yatagan was still waiting for her response, Ruha nodded and said, “We’re both ready, Yatagan. Victory or death!” The sound of Lander’s voice issuing from her throat made the young widow feel even more distant from the events that were about to occur.
The wizened sheikh lifted his amarat and sounded a long, piercing tone. An apprehensive flurry rustled the Shremala warriors as they stretched their cold-stiffened arms and shifted their quivers into more accessible positions. Nine distant amarats trumpeted an answer to Yatagan, and Ruha knew the other khowwans were ready.
Yatagan raised his horn to his lips again and blasted a long, trilling note. The sheikh’s mount danced in anticipation, then Yatagan lowered his horn and led his khowwan down the hill into battle.
A short time later, black slivers began to fly back and forth between the Shremala and the defenders lurking behind the fortifications on the wall. The other tribes were too distant for Ruha to tell if they were also coming under fire, but she assumed that they were. Fortunately, though a man fell from his camel every now and then, the Zhentarim arrows were having little effect on the charge.
The Shremala continued forward beneath the black rain, driving strait for a ten-foot breach in Orofin’s fortifications. When the tribe closed to within fifty yards of the wall, silver gleams began to flash from the front of the charge, and Ruha knew the first ranks had drawn their scimitars in anticipation of hand-to-hand fighting.
As the Shremala approached the breach, a half-dozen tiny, black-robed figures rose from behind the wall’s crenelations. At first Ruha could not tell what they were doing, but then they heaved several bundles onto the top of the wall and emptied the contents over the side. Just as the first Bedine warriors reached the breach, dozens of melon-sized rocks poured out of the bundles and clattered down on them. A muffled crash rolled across the empty ground between Orofin and the hill upon which Ruha and Utaiba waited.
The hail of rubble stopped the attack, knocking more than two dozen warriors from their saddles and littering the ground in front of the breach with bodies. The rear ranks of the charge pulled up short, spraying the top of the fortifications with arrows while a half-dozen of their un-mounted companions rushed back to their ranks.
One of the figures stopped a few paces in front of the others, then waved his scimitar toward the gap. Two dozen men immediately slipped off their camel’s backs and followed him toward the breach, drawing their own blades. The rest of the tribe remained in place, firing arrows at the top of the wall or into the fortress itself.
When the running figures began to pick their way through the rubble in front of the breach, a flurry of arrows streaked from the gap. The men on foot fell in their tracks, then a handful of Zhentarim filled the breach and began firing arrows at the warriors who were still mounted. Soon, more Black Robes appeared along the top of the wall, and the Shremala had to fall back and trade arrows with the Zhentarim from longer range.