General Luggar entered the premer’s tent and found Cardijja staring at the map of Fakara. The premer looked up briefly to see who was entering, but he quickly returned his attention to the hand drawn markings on the map.
“There are no markings on the map for this jungle,” commented General Luggar as he crossed the room and stood alongside the premer. “Your interest in the map tells me that you are planning to retreat.”
“Is there any other option?” sighed Cardijja. “The men are frightened like children. Sending the mages out to battle the spiders was a great mistake on my part. The men know that there are no healers left for them.”
“You had no reason to believe that all of the mages would die,” sympathized the general. “Do not blame yourself.”
“Who am I to blame then?” scowled the premer. “I lead this army. All responsibility falls to me. I have managed to send my men into a deathtrap. No, Luggar, I must blame myself. I can hardly blame the men for wanting to run from this infernal jungle. Come morning, we are leaving here and heading westward. Let Premer Tzargo find the lost city of Angragar. My task now is to preserve as many of my men as possible.”
“You can’t be serious?” gasped General Luggar. “Tzargo will kill you for defying him, and that would be getting off easy. If Vand hears of it, you will be slowly tortured in public to make a spectacle of you.”
“I fully understand the consequences of my actions,” shrugged Cardijja, “but I will not throw away the lives of my men.”
“Your men will just be sent out under a new premer after you are killed,” Luggar pointed out. “You will not be saving them from anything. You are a premer, Cardijja. Your task is to lead your armies to defeat the enemy. I do not understand this change in you.”
“You will come to understand it,” frowned the premer. “I suspect that you will be chosen to replace me. When your promotion is given, remember well what happens here in the jungle this night.”
“What do you mean?” questioned the general. “When what happens?”
“When the spiders attack, Luggar,” replied the premer. “Surely you are not foolish enough to think that we will be allowed to sleep until morning? Our enemy is much too clever for that.”
“You think the spiders are intelligent?” asked the general. “You speak of them as if they were in league with our enemies.”
“I am sure of it,” nodded Cardijja. “Oh, the reports from the soldiers we sent out might lead one to believe that the spiders merely saw us as intruders and a food source, but the deaths of the mages make me see things differently. Cymelange’s mages may have been pompous and obnoxious, but they were intelligent men. They went into the jungle specifically to find the spiders. They could not have been trapped as the soldiers were.”
“Perhaps the mages did not die because of the spiders,” offered Luggar. “Cymelange spoke of small people and poison darts.”
“Exactly,” Cardijja nodded exaggeratedly. “He spoke of people and spiders in the same breath. Now tell me, why is it these small people can survive among the spiders that killed six thousand of our soldiers? Have you considered the implications of that thought?”
General Luggar remained silent for several moments and finally shook his head. “I see where your thoughts are coming from,” admitted the general, “but you have no proof of it. Perhaps the spiders do normally feed on the small people, but couldn’t resist the men we sent into the jungle.”
“Inconceivable,” countered Cardijja. “The spiders were capable of capturing almost every one of the soldiers that we sent in. No small people could live in such an environment unless the spiders were their allies. No, Luggar, the spiders are intelligent, and they will attack before dawn. They are merely waiting until our fear is at its apex. That fear will work to their advantage. Instead of facing two hundred thousand men ready to defend this camp, they will be attacking two hundred thousand soldiers trying to flee from the jungle. Our losses will be severe.”
“If you truly believe this,” frowned the general, “you should be ordering the men out of the jungle immediately.”
”I would have done that an hour ago,” sighed the premer, “except for the reports from the sentries. It appears that Fakaran horsemen are prowling the plains outside the jungle. They would like nothing better than to strike us under the cover of darkness once again.”
“And the Fakarans have not attempted to enter the jungle?” asked General Luggar.
“Not even a single probe,” Cardijja shook his head. “It is as if they already know where we are and what we are up against. Can you think of any other reason for them to be riding along the edge of the jungle in plain sight of our sentries?”
“No,” admitted Luggar. “Such an appearance is most certainly designed to keep us here for the night.”
“Precisely,” nodded Cardijja. “They sit out there like vultures waiting to pick off the weak and wounded as we run from the jungle.”
“What are you going to do about it?” asked General Luggar.
“I am not sure,” conceded the premer, “but something must be done soon. We cannot allow the Fakarans to drive our strategy. There was a long strand of forest before we reached the jungle. Do you remember it?”
“I do,” nodded the general. “We discussed moving into it if the Fakaran horsemen returned before we reached the jungle. It ran to the north for as far as I could see.”
“I want to devise a plan to reach it,” declared the premer.
“That is a half-day’s march,” frowned the general. “We would lose thousands of men to the horsemen before we reached it.”
“I know,” sighed Cardijja, “but what else can we do? If we stay in the jungle, we must fight huge spiders and little people with poison darts. The very thought terrorizes our men. If we merely flee to the plains, we will fall prey to the tribes and their horsemen. We will lose a tremendous number of men to reach the forest, but the jungle creatures will not pursue us, and the horsemen will be at an extreme disadvantage there.”
“Our men could certainly hold their own in the forests,” Luggar nodded in agreement. “In fact, that is just the terrain we need to defeat the horsemen. If we can lure them into the forest after us, we can turn this war around.”
“That is what I was thinking,” smiled the premer. “I would prefer to wait until daylight to cross the plains, but I fear that will not be an option.”
“Daylight would allow more of our men to survive the attacks from the horsemen,” agreed the general, “but you indicated that you thought the spiders would not wait until dawn.”
“They won’t,” assured the premer, “and that is what bothers me. I am looking for a way out of the jungle without exposing the men to the tribesmen.”
General Luggar gazed down at the map and frowned in silence. Finally, he tapped his finger on the map.
“What if we start moving the men along the edge of the jungle?” Luggar proposed. “They could stay close to the plains and move northward. That would make the open area between the jungle and the forests a bit smaller.”
“It would also spread our men out greatly,” replied the premer, “but I was thinking of doing just that when you arrived. The problem, as I see it, is that those still in this camp when the spiders strike will most certainly be lost. We will have decreased our numbers greatly.”
“Then we are best to start as soon as possible,” replied the general. “We are going to lose thousands of men no matter what we do. This plan is the best option that we have, unless we send more men deep into the jungle. That might keep the spiders busy until dawn.”
“Where would you find the men to follow such an order?” questioned the premer. “I am not sure if you have spent much time this night walking around the camp, but I have. Our men are ready to throw down their weapons and bolt for the plains. We would have been better off if the spiders had killed all of the men sent into the jungle. Those few hundred who escaped have caused morale to plummet. If you can find some volunteers, I will take them. Otherwise, we start moving out immediately.”
“We might as well start moving out,” sighed General Luggar. “You are right about the mental state of the troops. They want out of this jungle.”
“Give the orders, Luggar,” stated Premer Cardijja. “Make sure that the men understand what we are doing. I don’t want any of them getting lost.”
Premer Cardijja followed the general out of the tent. He watched Luggar walk off and then his eyes rose skyward. The sky was a mass of black, and the smell of rain was in the air. He cursed the lack of moonlight and called for some men to dismantle his tent. For an hour the premer walked slowly around the encampment. Everywhere men were preparing to leave. He smiled sympathetically and nodded to the soldiers, but most of them averted their eyes. It was clear that they were ashamed of their fear, but Cardijja felt for them. They were trained soldiers, but none of their training had prepared them for what this jungle held. He offered words of optimism and support to the soldiers, and some of them reacted with false bravado, but most of the soldiers merely nodded and smiled in return. Cardijja had become much like a father to most of the soldiers. He was known to be strict and severe with punishment, but he was always considered fair, and the men appreciated that.
By the time Cardijja reached the sentries at the western edge of the encampment, a long line of soldiers had already started to leave the camp northward. An hour later screams ripped through the camp from the east. Cardijja hurried towards the eastern perimeter to verify his suspicions. He met General Luggar half way there.
“Now we will see if you are right,” commented the general. “I have ordered horses readied.”
“It is sooner than I would have hoped,” frowned the premer. “With this foul sky it is hard to tell how late it really is. Let’s see what this disruption is all about.”
The premer and the general hurried eastward. They were still far from the perimeter when they halted. The screams ripped through the air, and soldiers ran for their lives. Cardijja squinted into the darkness. He saw movement, but he could not identify anything other than red-clad soldiers running past him.
“Look!” gasped Luggar as he pointed off to the right.
Cardijja followed the general’s finger and stared into the distance. He could not see anything but blackness. Suddenly, distant campfires appeared. Cardijja rubbed his eyes to make sense of what he was seeing. He could not imagine who would be lighting the distant campfires. It took a few moments for the truth to register. His gaze rose upward, and he saw a huge black mass moving eastward. He shuddered at the size of the spider. Campfires in the distance winked out as the spider’s body blocked them from view.
“Others are coming towards us,” Luggar shouted with fear. “We need to retreat now.”
Cardijja swiveled his head and saw the large blobs of black coming out of the darkness of the jungle. Some soldiers on the perimeter tried to attack the creatures, but most of the men turned and ran, their screams joining the chorus from all over the camp. The surge of retreating soldiers nearly mobbed the premer and the general. Cardijja grabbed Luggar by the arm and pulled him.
“To the horses,” he shouted over the screaming. “Our men cannot fight such beasts.”
The officers ran along with the retreating soldiers. When they reached the area where the premer’s tent had stood, they mounted their horses and raced across the encampment to the west. They halted at the edge of the jungle as terrified soldiers tried to flee onto the plains. The sentries forcibly corralled the fleeing soldiers and forced them to join the column heading northward. Cardijja swiveled in his saddle and viewed the terror-stricken campground with disgust. Fleeing soldiers were knocked down and trampled by others. Some men became human infernos as they stumbled into fire pits and ignited themselves.
“We waited too long,” General Luggar said softly.
“We moved as quickly as we could,” Cardijja snapped while inwardly conceding that the general was correct. “If we had not already begun the evacuation, we might have lost everything.”
* * *
General Luggar rode towards the vanguard of the column, the soldiers stepping off the beaten trail to make way for the officer. When he reached Premer Cardijja, he slowed alongside him.
“Are the spiders still attacking?” the premer asked, his voice weary with fatigue.
“Only the stragglers,” reported the general. “It does make the men keep up with the column.”
“Delightful,” scowled Cardijja. “How many did we lose?”
“It is hard to tell,” sighed Luggar. “Maybe thirty or forty thousand.”
“Forty thousand?” gasped Cardijja.
“And half of your generals,” nodded Luggar. “The spiders seemed to go out of their way to pursue anyone riding a horse. I had to run from several of them.”
“And we have not even crossed the plain yet,” frowned the premer as he looked at up at the lightening sky. “I think we should begin that portion of the trip within the hour.”
“I will see to it,” offered the general.
Cardijja watched General Luggar ride forward. The premer pulled his horse to the side of the trail at the first opportunity and allowed the column to march past him. He gazed at the weary soldiers as they passed by, their shoulders slumped and their heads hung low in exhaustion. Even one hundred and sixty thousand strong, they barely resembled an army any more. Cardijja closed his eyes and sat patiently waiting for the order to exit the jungle.
An hour later the order was passed along the column. Cardijja opened his eyes and let in the light of dawn. The Motangan army started filtering out of the jungle. Premer Cardijja patted his horse forward and broke through the last remaining jungle plants to emerge onto the plain. His head swiveled from left to right as a long line of red-clad soldiers emerged from the jungle and headed westward across the open plain. He spurred his horse into action and rode across the line of soldiers, shouting as he rode.
“There is a long day’s march ahead of us,” he shouted, “but a good night’s sleep at the end of it. March lively and cross as quickly as you can, but keep together. There are tribesmen out here.”
The soldiers immediately quickened their step, but Cardijja frowned when their enthusiasm only lasted a few minutes. The men were weary and at the end of their strength. They needed sleep before they fought anything. Cardijja wheeled his horse around and rode out ahead of the soldiers. When he was well ahead of them, he turned to gaze upon them. He saw another rider approaching and soon recognized General Luggar.
“It is not wise for you to be so far from the army,” advised the general as he caught up to the premer.
“It is wise to have a scout out front,” retorted Cardijja. “I want to see if the tribesmen are coming.”
“Let me be the scout,” offered Luggar.
“Where do you get your strength from?” asked the premer. “You have been running around more than I have. You should be dead on your feet.”
“I caught some sleep last night,” shrugged the general. “While you were planning our escape, I was napping peacefully. I wish you had gotten some sleep. It will be a long day.”
“We will ride together,” declared the premer. “Two sets of eyes are better than one.”
The two officers rode for hours far out in front of their men. Their eyes constantly scanned the horizon looking for any signs of the Fakaran horsemen. High sun came and went, and the premer began to feel good about his decision to evacuate the jungle. It appeared as though they had fooled the Fakarans and slipped away from the trap that had been laid for them. As the sun began to dip towards the peaks of the mountains, the officers came to a small rise. They rode to the summit and halted.
“The forest!” exclaimed General Luggar pointing to the west. “We have made it.”
“So we have,” grinned the premer. “I wish there was a god to offer up praise to.”
“You do not believe that Vand is a god?” asked the general. “You truly do not care much for your life. What has happened to you, old friend? You were never so skeptical before.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” sighed the premer as he swiveled in his saddle.
As the premer turned to look back at his army his mouth fell open, and he cursed loudly. General Luggar turned to see what had caused the premer such alarm. Far to the east a huge dust cloud rose over the plain. Barely visible in the distance were thousands of horses charging from both directions. The Fakarans were decimating the tail end of the Motangan column.
“Those cowardly dogs,” spat the general. “They are murdering our men while we are in retreat.”
“That does not make them cowardly,” Cardijja sighed in frustration. “Actually it is a brilliant move. Had they attacked the vanguard, you and I could have warned the men to prepare for an attack. Instead they hit us at our weakest position. We must learn to expect the unexpected from the Fakarans. Ride out to the column. I want the first two thirds of the men to continue onward towards the forest. The last third is to stand and fight.”
“They must all stand and fight,” objected the general. “You cannot throw a third of your army away.”
“Follow my orders,” snapped the premer. “The men are too tired and weak from hunger to fight. We can sacrifice a third of the men to save two thirds, or we can lose them all. I intend to save those that I can. Move out.”
General Luggar saluted formally and rode to the east. Premer Cardijja watched in rage as the Fakarans charged over and over again. The column of Motangans began to get visibly smaller as the horsemen worked their way westward leaving thousands of bodies in their wake. Eventually the Motangan army splintered into two groups. The large group hurried westward while the small group spread out in a semicircle facing east. Cardijja wanted to bow his head in prayer for the brave men that were offering up their lives to help their brethren, but he refused to accept Vand as a god, and he knew no other god. Instead, he sat in stony silence as he watched his men defend against the Fakaran horsemen.
An hour later the vanguard of the Motangan army ran over the small knoll. Cardijja waved them onward, pointing to the forest not far to the west. Tears came unbidden to his eyes as he watched the slaughter of the defenders down on the plain to the east. Their arc of defense grew smaller with each Fakaran charge until none of the Motangans were left. Expecting the horsemen to pursue the rest of the Motangan army, Premer Cardijja was surprised to see the Fakarans turn to the south and ride away. Moments late General Luggar arrived atop the knoll.
“The Fakarans retreated,” Cardijja remarked softly.
Luggar turned in his saddle and stared down at the plain. His eyes widened in astonishment.
“Why?” he asked. “Why did they not pursue the rest of us?”
“I don’t know,” replied Cardijja, “but the action does not bring comfort to me.”
“You would have preferred for them to continue attacking us?” asked the general.
“No,” Cardijja shook his head, “but their departure puzzles me.”
“Maybe they are only interested in attacking the weakest portions of our army?” suggested Luggar.
“That is possible,” shrugged the premer, “and it would be a wise strategy, but I am forcing myself to expect the unexpected. How large is this strand of forest?”
“It is not charted,” answered the general, “but it is huge. What we saw riding eastward was that it extended far to the north of the pass we came through. Do you think they plan to attack us again when we leave the forest?”
“That is a possibility,” nodded the premer. “If that is their plan, the Fakarans will be in for a surprise. Once our men are rested, an attack like today’s will cost the horsemen greatly. They should have pursued us while we were still tired. The ease of their victory today will make them unprepared for a true Motangan defense.”
Premer Cardijja wheeled his horse around and headed down the western slope of the knoll. General Luggar rode alongside, his previous disagreement with the premer behind him. As the sun was disappearing from the sky, they rode into the coolness of the sevemore forest. The Motangans had moved well into the forest before setting up camp. Campfires dotted the woods, and several deer were already being cooked over the fires. Cardijja smiled broadly as he saw the spirits of his men returning. When he made his way to the center of the camp, he saw that his tent was just being erected. He dismounted and handed his reins to a soldier. Luggar dismounted as well.
“This is like paradise,” Luggar smiled before touching the premer on the arm and looking at him seriously. “I want to apologize for my words earlier, Cardijja. As things turned out, your decision was a wise one. I probably would have lost the whole army by making the men take a stand. I am sorry for doubting you.”
“You followed my orders,” smiled Cardijja. “I ask no more of any man. My decisions will not always be right, but I will always do what I think is best for the majority of the men. That jungle was a trap designed just for us. We are fortunate to have survived it with half of our men. It was meant to destroy us totally. Do not underestimate these Fakarans. What we were told on Motanga was nothing more than lies to boost our morale. I would have preferred the truth.”
“So that is why you have turned from Vand and Tzargo?” frowned Luggar. “You feel that they are using you?”
“Of course they are using me,” chuckled Cardijja. “That has always been plain to any man with half a brain. It is the way of rulers. They use the little people to obtain their goals. A soldier is used to being used,” he continued, “but not abused. Doralin, Shamal, and myself were kept in the dark about the true nature of the people that we are tasked to destroy. We were led to believe that they were savages that needed to be exterminated.”
“And you don’t think they are?” inquired the general.
“Their attacks have been brilliant,” answered the premer. “They have stood up against a vastly superior force and suffered few casualties. If we had been expecting such a tough fight, the outcomes may have been different. That is what I hold against Vand and Tzargo. They have wasted thousands of Motangan lives and for what purpose?”
“Is it not our task to win the battles?” frowned Luggar. “Sure they could have been more straightforward about the enemy, but that is hardly a valid reason to rebel against them.”
“We could have conquered these lands with few losses,” retorted Cardijja, “but that is not enough for Vand. He wants these people exterminated, and he doesn’t care how many of us die to accomplish it. Don’t you see, Luggar? He cares for our men as little as he cares for the enemy.”