Cale nodded. "Right. They can throw them, and they do, but mostly they use them as stabbing weapons, since they can use them from dinoback. Aside from those, all I ever saw were belt knives and those things with three stones tied together."
"Oh, yes. Bolas. Well, they won't be able to use those much. Even the colony militia isn't dumb enough to stand up in the open." He turned from the screen, and then turned back. "I've got to go. There's a lot to do before dawn."
Cale cursed. He wanted to be there. But he couldn't think of anything he could do that would help. Well, maybe he could talk the kings out of going there with only a few guardsmen. He sighed and went to wake the kings.
********
The roar overhead roused Tran to instant wakefulness. He had never heard such at night during the weeks of moving south. Could the star men possibly see in the darkness of Jumbo? Surely the starlight was too faint for even their sharp eyes.
He frowned. Whether they could or not, the plan could not be changed. He was sure that Fron was even now sharpening the blade of his javelin, but he had no way to make certain. He must trust in the honor of the Free People, and believe that there would be an attack with the dawn. He composed himself for sleep. He would need all the rest he could get tomorrow!
********
By dawn, the General's scouts had all the nomads to the north located. The General had entrusted the defense of the north perimeter to the colony militia, after making certain they were properly positioned to take out the attackers. On this front, it would be a mounted attack in the typical nomad fashion, and the General was confident that the militia's ample supply of power cells would let their lasers and blasters wipe out the attackers.
"Remember," he'd told them during their short briefing, "Take out the dinos first! The nomads don't like to be afoot, and besides, they won't be sheltered behind their animals. Take out the dinos, and you'll have clear shots at the men.
"We're counting on you to hold this perimeter. If they get past you, they'll be able to take us in the rear. But even more importantly, the entire colony will be open to them. We will be busy fighting the main body, and we won't be able to protect your homes and families. That's going to be your job.
"Do not try to take prisoners. This is a suicide raid, pure and simple. They had their funeral ceremonies before they left. Wounded or not, if a nomad offers to surrender, it will be so he can get close enough to attack you with his bare hands and teeth. He will gladly die if he can take a star man with him."
The General's own remaining troops were arranged in a semicircle focused on the choke point of the bridge. His men and women were good, but there was no doubt that at least some of the fanatical attackers would get through to them. The troops knew it, too, and they sported an assortment of personal, unofficial lethalities, from hand blasters and pocket needlers to vibroblades and even tomahawks traded from the militias, as well as their official fighting knives.
"They're saddling up," the militia colonel calmly told the General as the first, faint rays of dawn began to lighten the gloom of night. A moment later, "Here they come."
"Good luck," the General replied just before the colonel clicked off. The main attack, he knew, would not come at once. The nomads would be listening for their comrades' cries and the clatter of battle. Still, though, they would wait. The whole purpose of the diversionary attack was to draw the defenders away from the bridge area.
So, by the time the main attack was launched, the morning sunlight would be bright, the charge instantly visible. The General had warned that he would court-martial any trooper who fired before the attackers reached the center of the bridge. He wanted to make certain there were no stragglers to slip away and turn bandit, preying on the people of Nirvana. The guards on the bridge were ready to fire a single volley and then run back to their lines. They had small chance of making it, but they were all volunteers, and if the bridge appeared empty, the nomads would know they'd been detected.
On the north perimeter, a line of dinos suddenly appeared silently out of the gloom, running at top speed. It would have been a chilling sight, if the defenders hadn't been expecting it. It was still a chilling sight.
The Colonel's voice calmly said, "Fire," and the early-morning gloom disappeared in a maze of actinic lines, each terminating in a dino. The line stumbled, and then dissolved as falling dinos threw their riders, sometimes beneath their own falling bodies. Furious, grief-stricken nomads scrambled to their feet, screaming their hate and charging their foe.
The laser bolts thinned as militiamen sought the smaller targets of dismounted men. One by one the nomads fell. But none slowed or stopped. The charge continued. Thirty meters. Twenty. The lasers were joined by blasters now, and the battlefield that had been silent except for the cries of the nomads erupted in the shriek of tortured air.
At the bridge, the dimly heard battle cries signaled the main attack. But there was no immediate charge. Instead, twenty minutes later, men who'd waited all night in the river scrambled up the banks and charged the bridge guards on foot, javelins in hand. The guards had been warned, but they'd expected a cavalry charge, so there was surprise. But these were well-trained spec ops troops. In seconds the attackers were dead, and the guards were sprinting toward the General's line at top speed. The guards wore only their armor and personal weapons. The packs they'd been carrying had been empty, and it took only a second to slip out of them.
Of the six guards, four made it back to the lines as dinos appeared on the far side of the bridge, charging at their incredible speed toward the bridge.
Tran watched as the first rank of dinos raced for the bridge. The bridge was wide enough for ten dinos abreast, they had decided. The first across would stay near the bridge, milling about causing confusion and alarm while more and more of the Free People crossed into the soft underbelly of the star men.
He was startled when there was a flurry of the light-that-kills and the first rank fell. The star men had been warned! But how? Suddenly he remembered the roar in the night, and his heart fell. He spurred his mount north, to better see what was happening.
He frowned. The star men were hiding like cowards, killing without even showing themselves, much less challenging the Free People. The second rank wilted. The fallen first rank had made a barrier for the second, slowing their charge. But there was something else . . .
Dinos! There were far too many dinos lying dead on the bridge, and none milling about. They were killing dinos! His outrage was monumental. What kind of man made war on dinos? It was true, then. The star men had no honor. They were monsters. They should be slaughtered without mercy, like serpentines!
But the barricade of bodies was growing rapidly. Soon, no dino would be able to leap it. Was the noble attack to simply wither away in disgrace?
He gathered a dozen of the men waiting to charge the bridge, and headed north. Half a mile up the river, they tethered their mounts. Dinos were poor swimmers, but so were the Free People. Grasping desperately at branches, they slipped into the river. Two of his men were swept helplessly away, but ten of them managed to cross the river.
They would have to attack on foot, dismounted. He shook his head. It didn't matter. If these people had no respect for animals, the dinos would simply have been butchered like those on the bridge. He raised his head cautiously, and looked over the bank.