“It is not lamp oil,” the general replied as he stood up in his stirrups and looked back along the column, “but your guess is close enough.” The general turned his head and gazed forward. The road before the column was already flooded and he nodded with understanding. “Head towards the rear!” he ordered the colonel. “Let everyone know that they must be ready to evacuate the road at a moment’s notice. If you reach a point where the road is not flooded, turn the column around and move them to safety as quickly as you can. This trap is meant to destroy Team Elmor.”
The colonel blinked in confusion. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but the general had already spurred his horse to action. As the general raced forward, he called to the cavalry in the vanguard to follow him. The colonel turned his horse and raced towards the rear of the column.
As General Ruppert and the cavalry around him raced along the coastal road, their horses kicked up the volatile liquid creating a pungent mist that permeated the uniforms of the soldiers. The general’s eyes flicked from the leaking pipe to the road ahead. That was when he saw the solitary figure in the distance. The man sat astride a large horse, and he held a flaming torch high above his head. The general’s brow immediately broke out in a cold sweat as he understood what was about to happen.
“Into the sea!” shouted General Ruppert. “Into the sea!”
The general pulled hard on the reins, forcing his mount to the right. It was not a graceful exit from the road, but the general cared little for horsemanship at that point. As his horse leaped for the sea, the general watched the torch hit the road. A wall of flame rose half way up the cliff face and raced towards the soldiers of Team Elmor. It was the last thing he saw before he hit the water. His horse must have landed unevenly because the general found himself propelled out of the saddle and dunked under the water.
* * * *
Colonel Mayne raced towards the rear of the column shouting the general’s orders. He had made it almost as far as the center of the column before screams and shouts behind him forced him to turn around and gaze towards the vanguard. His eyes widened in fear as he saw a wall of flame racing towards him. Outlined by the wall of fire in the distance, silhouettes of Federation soldiers could be seen leaping into the sea. Like a rippling wave, the column of men ran towards the small berm and dove into the water. With only seconds before the firestorm hit, Colonel Mayne turned his horse towards the berm and kicked it savagely. The horse refused to cooperate. Instead, it reared up on its hind legs. The colonel jumped off his horse, nearly colliding with the nearby black-cloaks. As he ran to the berm and dove into the water, he was vaguely aware of bowstrings snapping somewhere nearby, but he had no time to worry about such things. His body sliced into the water.
When the colonel surfaced, he was in a sea of bobbing heads. His feet could not touch the bottom, and he thought of abandoning his gear, but as he turned back towards the road, he saw some of the Federation soldiers standing waist deep in water. Beyond them was the burning inferno of the coastal road. The colonel struggled towards the shore, his legs scrapping along a submerged shelf. He crawled up onto the shelf and rose to his feet. The heat of the flames was searing, but the colonel was grateful for a place to stand. Screams of agony rose above the roar of the massive flames, and the colonel turned his attention to the devastation on the road. Burning corpses of men who had not been quick enough to flee the flames littered the road, as did abandoned horses. As his eyes roved over the carnage, he saw the remains of the black-cloaks. He wondered why they had not issued spells to protect themselves from the fire.
Next to the colonel stood a squad leader. He noticed where the colonel was looking, and he offered his thoughts. “The mages were shot by archers from atop the cliffs,” stated the sergeant. “I guess the Alceans were afraid that the black-cloaks might spoil their little surprise for us.”
Colonel Mayne glanced at the squad leader and nodded an acknowledgment. His eyes then rose towards the top of the cliff. He saw Lanoirian archers lining the cliffs as far as he could see in each direction. He sighed with resignation as he realized the severity of the trap they had walked into.
“I need to inform General Ruppert of our situation,” the colonel said to the squad leader before turning and heading towards the vanguard.
“Watch your step,” warned the squad leader. “The bottom here is slippery enough to toss you back into the sea.”
* * * *
A half dozen captains crowded around General Ruppert waiting for his orders, but the general said nothing. He stood silently waist deep in water staring at the road and the cliffs above. Behind him he heard the shouts and commotion as members of the cavalry tried to save their horses. The horses did not want to be near the flames, and it was nearly impossible to get them up onto the slippery shelf that ran alongside the road. He pushed the sounds out of his mind as he tried to formulate a plan of defense. The general gazed back along the road and shook his head in wonder. He hoped that the colonel had managed to save a lot of men, but he knew that he had not had time to warn all of the men. The fire spread much too rapidly for him to have gotten to the end of the column.
General Ruppert turned his attention to the south. Through the flickering flames, he saw the distant rider who had dropped the torch. The man still sat astride his horse as if waiting for something to happen. The general’s face turned red with rage.
“Get the men ready to fight,” commanded General Ruppert. “We are marching around the fire. Pass the word back.”
The word spread quickly. While he waited for his armies to prepare for battle, General Ruppert tried to think of a way to use his men effectively. He knew that his forces would be bottlenecked on the shelf, but he also thought he had more than enough men to overwhelm the enemy. He just needed a way to use them effectively. Perhaps he could keep the enemy engaged at the vanguard while General Hanold’s Aertan army backed off the shelf to the north. The Aertans would then need to find a way to get atop the cliffs and come up behind whatever forces were ahead of Ruppert. The general was still mulling over the plans in his mind when Colonel Mayne arrived.
“You are going to fight your way out of this?” asked the colonel.
“We are soldiers,” frowned the general. “Fighting is what we do. How far back did you mange to get before the firestorm overran you?”
“Almost half way,” answered the colonel. “General, are you aware that the cliffs are lined with Lanoirian archers?”
The general gazed at the colonel and then looked up at the tops of the cliffs. He could see no archers, but when he turned to the north, he could see them in the distance. He sighed. He had no doubt that the archers were above him right now. He just couldn’t see them.
“We will need the battle mages then,” stated the general. “If the Alceans want to play with fire, we will show them that it can burn them just as easily. Send for them.”
“The black-cloaks are dead,” stated the colonel. “The Lanoirians shot them as the fire engulfed the column. As far as I can tell, those were the only arrows sent down from the cliffs. I think they anticipated your use of magic.”
“Curses,” snarled the general. “How could the Alceans have known we were coming this way?”
“If you are General Ruppert,” said a feminine voice, “you should walk forward and ask Bin-lu. He awaits you at the southern end of the fire.”
The general spun around, seeking the woman who had spoken to him, but he could not see her.
“Above you, General,” the colonel said, his voice heavy with disbelief.
The general glanced up and saw a tiny blue woman hovering in the air, her wings beating frantically. For several seconds, the general was speechless as he gawked at the fairy.