The drends were fat from good grazing. There was food for several weeks in the wagons, and there would be fish and game along the shore. The scouts reported many birds and large herds of the boar-like animals Blade had seen in the forest. Pushing on was clearly the best thing to do.
Blade agreed, but wondered if the land ahead would be much safer than the land they were leaving. If something was in fact directing the bat-birds down on the marching Kargoi, could it perhaps direct something else against them as they moved along the shore? Blade couldn't be sure, nor could he put his doubts and suspicions into words the Kargoi would understand or believe.
The next attack didn't catch Blade asleep, although it came in the same darkness as the attack of the bat-birds. It came as he lay beside Naula in a tent half a mile from the edge of the water. They'd just made love, but neither was so tired that sleep tempted them. They lay awake, exchanging pats and caresses, waiting until time would bring desire again.
Mounted sentries gave warning of the attack, but did little more. Against what came out of the sea against the Kargoi, there was no way they could have done much more.
Blade stretched, and found desire growing in him again, not fierce this time but warm and comfortable. His hand reached out, hovered in the air, and dropped gently on Naula's breast. In the darkness he could sense she was smiling, feeling her own desire rising to match his.
Her hand was creeping across the hard muscles of his chest when a hissing roar blasted out of the night. Blade threw off the furs and started to rise. Naula lay with her caressing hand suspended in midair, frozen into a rigid claw.
As Blade rose, the first roar was echoed by others, too many to count and blending too rapidly into a monstrous sound that beat on Blade's ears like the solid fists of an attacker. A hundred huge boilers all seemed to be letting off steam in a single moment.
Blade jerked Naula to her feet with one hand and picked up her clothes with the other. «Dress and follow me,» he said, bending to pick up his weapons.
As he led Naula out into the darkness, Blade was fully armed with both swords, two spears, a knife, a bow, a quiver. He wore nothing except a padded loinguard and a leather brace on his right forearm. Clothes would only be a burden tonight, not a protection.
In the darkness terror was stalking the Kargoi, terror in the form of sixty-foot hulks of living flesh that hissed and roared, made the ground shake under their weight, and moved steadily forward. A single glance toward the sea showed Blade more than a hundred huge reptilian beasts heading toward the camp, forming a line more than a mile wide, like an incoming tide of armored flesh. Behind the first line he could dimly make out patches of foam as more beasts churned their way through the shallows.
There was fear in the camp, but the fear was not exploding into panic. From the rows of tents on the seaward side of the camp, women ran toward the circle of wagons, carrying crying babies or dragging shrieking children by the hand. Blade knew the beasts coming out of the sea could smash a wagon to kindling wood, but any shelter doubtless looked better than none.
Meanwhile the warriors ran toward the advancing reptiles, brandishing their swords and spears. The craftsmen ran with them, waving hammers and axes. Even the workers were there, with cooking spits and logs of firewood.
It was magnificent courage, but Blade was certain more would be needed before this night was over. Each of the reptiles looked far too strong to be attacked wildly or blindly, and there were far too many of them. Too many warriors would die under teeth and claws, trampling feet and lashing tails.
Who or what wanted things to happen that way? There was someone or something that did. Blade was now certain of that. He could not believe there was any natural cause for this attack. He could imagine natural causes for the sea reptiles gathering together in such numbers-a sudden abundance of food in one place, for example. He could not imagine them coming forward onto the land to attack humans or their livestock, and above all he could not imagine them coming forward in a line as solid and rigid as guardsmen on parade.
Mounted warriors now rode forward to join their comrades. Arrows whistled toward the oncoming enemy as archers let fly. With the darkness and the archers' excitement, not all the arrows flew high enough. Blade saw a Kargoi warrior fall from his saddle, hand clapped to a thigh neatly skewered by one of his comrade's arrows.
Naula was still clinging tightly to him. Blade slapped her on the rump and pointed toward the wagons. «Run!» She looked at him, wide-eyed with fear that was more for him than for herself, then ran. Blade zig-zagged through the confusion of hurrying men, caught the reins of the riderless drend, and vaulted on to its broad back. Gripping the reins with one hand, he got his feet under him and stood on the saddle pad.
Now he could look out across the exploding battle, as the first of the lumbering reptiles and the onrushing men collided. Three of the beasts came on, and a fringe of men suddenly formed around them, spears thrusting and swords hacking at the scaly hides. A crested head rose, with a writhing stick figure clamped in long tangs that dripped blood. Two more men were scythed down by the sweep of a tail three feet thick and twenty feet long. Then the fringe of men broke up and two of the three beasts lumbered onward. The third beast remained behind, down on its knees with half a dozen warriors stabbing at the eyes and seeking out weak spots in the armored hide. Another half-dozen warriors lay still, writhed feebly, or crawled jerkily toward what safety they could find. One lay on his back, hands clapped to his groin, courage forgotten and all his remaining strength poured into an endless agonized screaming.
The beasts' masters had not only formed them into an unnaturally precise line for their attack, they seemed to be filling them with an equally unnatural ferocity. Half a dozen warriors maimed or dead for every beast killed meant the end of the Kargoi, if not tonight then soon.
A bright moon shone now, and Blade could see all along the attacking line and past it to the shore. He could count more than two hundred of the reptiles, of half a dozen different breeds. All were huge, all were hideous, all were moving steadily toward him, driving the warriors of the Kargoi before them. Here and there one of the beasts was down, kicking out its life under Kargoi steel, but there were far too few of these.
At least no more of the reptiles were surging out of the water to join the attack. They were not endless-at least not tonight. Now Blade knew what to do about tonight's attack.
He filled his chest and roared out in a terrible voice, «Ho, Kargoi! Listen! Listen, and learn how to stand against these monsters as you stood against the batbirds!»
When he wanted to, Richard Blade could make himself heard in the middle of an exploding ammunition dump. His voice carried halfway across the battlefield. Men turned to stare at him, and even some of the advancing reptiles raised their heads in bewilderment at the strange sound.
Blade shouted again. «Form lines, two or three of them, wide lines all across the field! Stand with your spears toward the beasts. Stand, and let nothing but death move you! Stand, and let the archers aim at the eyes. Swordsmen, axemen, when they are blinded, strike!»
That was about as complicated a set of instructions as anybody would be likely to hear or understand, let alone follow, in the middle of a night battle. Blade hoped it would be enough to make clear to the Kargoi what they should do.