Bakhai dropped the air tunnel and fell silent as he thought about the shaman’s question. He knew that prudence required that he escape before morning, but he also knew that such a maneuver would cost the free tribes greatly. General Luggar would certainly demand defensive procedures that would result in many Fakarans dying needlessly. Bakhai rose quietly and returned to the premer’s tent. He stretched out alongside the tent and fell asleep.
Bakhai awoke shortly after the sun had set. He sat up and let his eyes rove over the encampment. Campfires glowed as the sky darkened, and the stars began to appear. The Fakaran spy sat silently and watched the Motangans eat and prepare for a night’s sleep. For several hours, Bakhai did not move. As the night progressed, the Motangans retired for the night. Only a few soldiers moved within the camp near the premer’s tent, but Bakhai knew that the perimeter would be ringed with sentries. They were not his concern at the moment.
Bakhai wove an air tunnel and directed it to the east. He did not however extend it the normal one league, but rather shortened it to a distance halfway between the premer’s tent and the perimeter. Bakhai’s mouth moved as he slowly turned the air tunnel clockwise around the camp. He was not concerned about the black-cloaks intercepting his air tunnel, as the sounds emitted out of Bakhai’s mouth would be unintelligible to the Motangan mages. The sounds, however, were understood clearly by the insects living within the camp. Throughout the camp, millions of ants and spiders began moving. They swarmed over the sleeping bodies, biting and stinging as they went.
The Motangan encampment came alive with shouts and curses from every quadrant. The men inside tents came storming out, stamping their feet on the ground and dancing around like drunken fools at an all night festival. Those who slept outdoors were rolling on the ground and swatting their bodies to rid themselves of the insects. Campfires surged anew as soldiers gathered in the light to inspect each other’s bodies and remove the biting insects.
Within an hour the encampment grew quiet. Bakhai heard soldiers complaining about welts on their skin and terrible itching, but eventually everyone returned to sleep. Bakhai waited until the encampment was quiet and then repeated his call to the insects. Once again the little creatures swarmed out of their hiding places and struck the Motangan soldiers.
Bakhai reclined and feigned sleep as Premer Cardijja came storming out of his tent. The Fakaran spy had exempted the large tent from his orders to the insects so that he would not be bitten himself. This exception spared the Motangan premer from the uncomfortable surprise, but he glowered at the state of his encampment. Cardijja began shouting orders in an attempt to regain control over the soldiers, but it was a futile gesture. The soldiers ran around trying to rid themselves of the tiny bugs. Once again Bakhai let the camp quiet down.
Premer Cardijja returned to the comfort of the large tent, and Bakhai sat up again. He smiled inwardly as he thought of a variation to the attack. His third call went out to the snakes and reptiles. Within moments thousands of slithering beasts invaded the encampment. Again the shouts and curses split the air, and Premer Cardijja was quick to appear. He looked over at Bakhai questioningly.
“What in the world is going on?” he snapped.
“I do not know,” frowned Bakhai. “I was awakened by loud screaming. Are we under attack?”
“It is snakes and lizards,” a nearby officer reported. “This land is cursed.”
“Nonsense,” bellowed the premer, although Bakhai could sense uncertainty in the man’s voice.
The officer turned and ran off to help his men. Premer Cardijja turned to Bakhai once again.
“Have you ever heard of such things around here?” he asked.
“There are occasional insect plagues,” nodded Bakhai, “but they are a rare occurrence. They are only ants and spiders and will not really hurt anyone, but the snakes and lizards I have never heard of before. Perhaps the insects disturbed them, and they are trying to get away. At least they do not seem to be affecting us,” he added with a smile.
The Motangan premer shook his head as he gazed at his soldiers in disgust. He stormed back in his tent. Bakhai grinned inwardly and watched the soldiers. He knew that he should not repeat the call a fourth time, but he was pleased to see that it would be unnecessary in any event. The Motangan soldiers were not returning to sleep. They gathered in groups around the campfires and smoked and drank coffee. Bakhai was smiling as he let himself drift off to sleep.
When morning came, Bakhai sat up and gazed around the encampment. Many of the soldiers were in the same spots that they had occupied when Bakhai closed his eyes. He listened intently to the conversations of passing soldiers and learned that the camp had been awake the whole night. Many of the men sported dozens of welts, and all of them were scratching some part of their body.
When Premer Cardijja emerged from his tent and ordered the camp struck, cheers rang among the soldiers. They eagerly donned their packs and collapsed their tents, spending extra time to inspect each for any hidden threats. Within a couple of hours, the Motangan army was marching eastward through the pass between the Bone Mountains and the Giaming Mountains.
Bakhai’s eyes scanned the plain the moment it came into view. He looked for any sign of the free tribes, but he could see none. By high sun the army was through the pass and marching across the open plain. Bakhai kept looking for any sign of the attack, but nothing happened. He gazed around at the soldiers marching alongside him. They appeared weary and uncomfortable, and the Fakaran spy knew that the time for the attack was ripe, but still no Fakaran horsemen arrived.
The sun descended in the west and eventually dipped below the peaks of the mountains. Bakhai gazed at the long shadows in confusion. He wondered what had happened to the promised attack. A few hours later, Premer Cardijja called for the column to halt. The Motangan soldiers started staking out the camp as the premer called Bakhai in for his daily briefing.
Chapter 31
Riders of the Night
“Are you familiar with this ground?” asked Premer Cardijja.
“Yes,” nodded Bakhai. “I have crossed here many times.”
“Will there be problems with insects here?” inquired the premer. “I cannot afford to have the men subjected to that again tonight.”
“Insect attacks are very rare,” shrugged Bakhai, “but no one can predict them. I have slept here many times and never been bothered. We will just have to wait and see.”
“How far to the jungle?” asked General Luggar.
“One day’s march,” answered the Fakaran spy. “Tomorrow we turn slightly to the right when we leave camp. That is the shortest path to the jungle and will bring us close to where the evil spirit started chasing me. I hope she is not around,” Bakhai added anxiously.
“You will be protected,” promised the premer. “You have nothing to fear while you are in my camp.”
“We will kill any evil spirits that appear,” assured General Luggar with a sigh of disbelief. “Why don’t you go out and draw in the dirt or whatever it is you do?”
Bakhai glanced at Premer Cardijja and saw the man nod with approval. He rose and sauntered out of the tent. As soon as he was outside the tent and away from the sentries, Bakhai sat down on the ground and secretly wove an air tunnel through the gap in the door flap. He listened to the conversation of the two men, but he learned nothing new or exciting. When a Motangan mage came near, Bakhai quickly dropped the air tunnel and rose. He wandered around the huge camp for an hour before arriving at his usual spot near the sentries at the easternmost point of the perimeter. The soldiers nodded in a friendly manner and then returned to watching for any potential intruders. Bakhai again wove an air tunnel and aimed it at a spot one league to the east. He spoke softly into it.