“I would like to think that I would try to understand,” admitted the premer, “but the truth is that I doubt that I would be able to. What harm would it be to overlook one death in all the thousands that we must kill?”
“Careful, Cardijja,” cautioned the general. “Such thinking will get you killed. Do not even consider such thoughts.”
Premer Cardijja opened his mouth to speak, but he quickly thought better of it. Instead he rode on in silence, staring at the approaching jungle. After a few minutes, he pushed Bakhai from his mind and addressed the general forcefully.
“I want all of the men into the jungle before dark,” ordered Premer Cardijja. “Make sure that the vanguard penetrates deep enough into the jungle to accommodate everyone behind them. Once we are all off of this infernal plain, I want to make camp for the night. Send out scouts to find food, and post a serious watch along the edge of the jungle. Quadruple the normal guard. If a single tribesman is seen on the plain, I want the entire camp to know about it.”
“I will see to it,” promised the general.
Premer Cardijja watched General Luggar ride towards the vanguard to deliver his orders. His mind started to drift to thoughts of Bakhai, and the premer forcefully fought to focus on the jungle instead, but it was a losing battle. What Cardijja had not shared with his friend was that Bakhai reminded the premer of his own son. His son would have been around Bakhai’s age had he not been attacked and killed by a krul gone mad years ago. Tears formed in the corners of the premer’s eyes, and he hastily wiped them away before anyone could notice. The premer knew that he had to snap out of his current thinking. He suddenly wheeled his horse and rode off to perform an inspection of his troops.
Three hours later, the last of the Motangan troops entered the jungle. Two hundred thousand men occupied a wide swath of the jungle and the perimeter guards numbered over ten thousand just to watch the edge of the jungle. General Luggar decided to forego guards on the other three sides of the encampment, as he wanted as many men to rest as possible. Hundreds of scouts were sent deeper into the jungle to forage for food, and many of them returned with roots, berries, and fruit. Encouraged by the findings, Luggar organized groups of soldiers to penetrate even farther into the dense jungle.
The bulk of the soldiers trampled the vegetation at the edge of the jungle as they tried to find places to bed down for the night. Occasionally curses rang out as men were pricked by sharp-leaved plants, or stumbled into a nest of swarming bugs, but as the sky darkened with the coming night, the camp started to settle down peacefully. Little did the Motangans realize that the serenity of the jungle that they had sought as protection from the tribesmen was little more than an illusion of tranquility.
* * *
Far from the edge of the jungle, the foragers delighted in the variety of fruit and berries. They stuffed their mouths as they filled sacks to carry back to the camp for others to enjoy. So intent were they at harvesting the edibles that they failed to hear the soft clicks of the approaching tyriks. One of the tyriks seized a Motangan soldier in its mandibles. His scream of horror and pain tore through the air. The other soldiers in the group spun to see what the problem was. Mouths and eyes widened in terror as they stared at the huge spider. Sacks fell to the ground abandoned, and fruit fell from their hands.
Several of the soldiers drew their swords and moved cautiously forward to help their comrades, but most of the soldiers turned and ran for their lives. They ran without regard of paths, their screams trailing behind them. Some of them rushed into murky bogs that sucked them downward with every movement and struggle. Others ran blindly into huge webs, unable to free themselves or do anything other than shout for help and curse.
Within moments of the appearance of the first tyrik, screams ripped through the jungle from one side of the encampment to the other. The soldiers in the camp who had been bedding down for an early night of rest rose quickly. They stared into the darkness of the jungle and wondered what was happening to their comrades.
Premer Cardijja exited his tent, which sat in a section of the jungle that had been cleared for it. He gazed at the soldiers and listened to the distant screams. Recognizing that his entire army was frozen with fear, he moved quickly to tackle the situation. He strode purposefully towards the nearest tents and commanded the attention of the officers there.
“Get together a group of a thousand men,” ordered the premer. “Take them deeper into the jungle to discover what is happening to the foragers. Report back to me immediately when you find out what is going on.”
Premer Cardijja did not wait for a response from the officer. He turned and walked back towards his tent. Only then did he turn around to make sure that his orders were being carried out. As he watched the officer rally the group of unwilling explorers, General Luggar arrived at the tent.
“Do you know what is going?” asked Luggar.
“I just ordered a thousand men to find out,” replied Cardijja. “The men cannot take another night of sleeplessness.”
“I have ordered sentries for the jungle perimeter,” stated General Luggar. “I had thought that we would not need them tonight.”
“It can’t be another Fakaran attack,” the premer sighed in frustration. “The tribesmen would never give up the element of surprise by attacking a few hundred foragers.”
“Could it be kruls?” asked the general. “They do inhabit the jungles on Motanga.”
“Kruls are not natural beings,” Cardijja shook his head in disgust. “They are animals given human qualities by Vand’s mages. They are despicable creatures, but they do not exist outside of Motanga.”
“I noticed that none were attached to our army,” commented Luggar. “Is there a reason for that?”
“A very good one,” replied the premer. “Neither Shamal nor I would have them in our armies. We convinced Tzargo that the Sakova was the appropriate place for their use. Doralin got stuck with them all, and as we now know, they did little to help his cause.”
The screams finally stopped, and the jungle grew disturbingly silent. For a long time the camp remained staring into the jungle, but eventually some of the soldiers began to return to their sleeping mats. Slowly, the encampment began to return to normal, and Cardijja sighed with relief. The silence barely lasted half an hour. Screams once again filled the air, and the soldiers were quick to get to their feet and draw their swords. Cardijja cursed under his breath.
“This cannot continue,” scowled the premer. “I will not allow my men to be terrorized.”
“There is little that you can do,” soothed General Luggar. “You can order the men to retire, but you cannot make them fall asleep. Perhaps we should move out of the jungle?”
“Onto the open plains?” balked the premer. “How can you suggest such a thing after last night?”
“At least the Fakarans are an enemy that we can fight,” shrugged the general. “What is in this jungle cannot even be identified.”
“We will identify it,” retorted the premer. “As soon as those thousand men return, we will know what we are up against. All I want is one good night’s sleep for my men, and we will march through this jungle killing everything in it.”
General Luggar did not reply that he thought that sleep was not going to be had by anyone. Instead he remained quiet and waited for the screaming to stop. The screams did start to diminish, and eventually they stopped completely. Premer Cardijja waited for another half an hour for the patrol to return, but no one appeared.
“They are not returning,” General Luggar finally said softly.
“Inconceivable,” snapped the premer. “Who can kill a thousand armed men without showing themselves?”
“I do not mean to disagree with you,” sighed the general, “but there has been ample time for one of those thousand men to report back here.”