Mina heard the scouts’ reports in the morning, prior to setting out on the day’s march. The men were packing their gear, complaining as usual but in better spirits since the rain had quit. The blue dragons that dogged them kept their distance. Occasionally someone would catch sight of dark wings and the flash of sunlight off blue scales, but the dragons did not fly closer. The men ate their meager breakfast, waited for the orders to move out.
“You bring good news, gentlemen,” Mina said to the scouts,
“but we must not relax our vigilance. How close are we to the shield, Galdar?”
“The scouts report that we are within two days’ march, Mina,” he said.
Her amber eyes gazed past him, past the army, past the trees and the river, past the sky itself or so it seemed to him. “We are called, Galdar. I feel a great urgency. We must be at the border of Silvanesti by tonight.”
Galdar gaped. He was loyal to his commander. He would have laid down his life for her and considered his death a privilege. Her strategies were unorthodox, but’ they had proven effective. But there were some things not even she could do. Or her god.
“We can’t, Mina,” Galdar said flatly. “The men have been marching ten hours a day already. They’re exhausted. Besides, the supply wagons can’t move that fast. Look at them.” He waved his hand. Acting under the direction of the quartermaster, his men were digging out one of the wagons, which had sunk in the mud during the night. “They won’t be ready to set out for another hour, at least. What you ask is impossible, Mina.”
“Nothing is impossible to the One God, Galdar,” said Mina.
“We will camp beside the shield this night. You will see. I—What is that noise?”
A frantic horn call split the air, coming from behind them.
The long line of troops stretched along the road that ran over a hill, around a bend, down a valley, and over another hill. The men stood up, hearing the horn call, and looked back down the ranks. Those digging out the wagon ceased their work. \
A single scout, riding hard, crested the hill. The troops scrambled to move off the road, out of his way. It seemed he shouted a question as he rode, for many of the men pointed to the front. Putting his head down, he dug his spurs into his horse’s flanks and urged his steed forward.
Mina stepped out into the road to wait for him. The scout, reaching her, pulled up so hard on his horse that the animal reared on its hind legs.
“Mina!” The scout was breathless. “Ogres! In the hills behind us! Coming fast!”
“How many?” she asked.
“It’s hard to tell. They’re spread out allover the place, not in column or in any sort of order. But there’s a lot of them. One hundred. Maybe more. Coming down out of the hills.”
“A raiding party, most likely.” Galdar grunted. “Probably heard about the big battle in the south and they’re off to claim their fair share of the loot.”
“They’ll come together quick enough when they pick up our trail,” Captain Samuval predicted. “They’ll do that the moment they strike the river.”
“They’ve done that now, seemingly,” Galdar said.
Grinding shouts of rage and glee bounded like boulders among the hills. The raucous blasts of ram horns split the air. A few ogres had spotted them and were calling their fellows to battle.
The scout’s report spread with the swiftness of wildfire along the line of Mina’s troops. The soldiers scrambled to their feet, weariness and fatigue vanishing like dry leaves in the flames.
Ogres are terrible enemies. Hulking, fierce, and savage, an ogre army, led by ogre mages, operates with a good notion of strategy and tactics. An ogre raiding party does not.
Ogre raiding parties have no leaders. Outcasts from their own brutal society, these ogres are extremely dangerous, will prey even upon their own kind. They do not bother with formations but will attack whenever the enemy is in sight, trusting to their strength, brute force, and ferocity to overwhelm the foe.
Ogres are fearless in battle and, due to thick and hairy hides, are difficult to kill. Pain maddens them, goads them to greater ferocity. Ogre raiders have no word for “mercy,” they scorn the word “surrender,” either with regard to themselves or an opponent. Ogre raiders take only a few prisoners, and these are saved to provide the evening’s entertainment.
A disciplined, heavily armed, and well-organized army can turn back an ogre assault. Leaderless ogres are led easily into traps and completely vanquished by clever stratagems. They are not good archers, having no patience for the practice required to develop skill with bow and arrow. They wield enormous swords and battle-axes that they use to hack the enemy to pieces, or throw spears, which their strong arms can hurl long distances with deadly effect.
Hearing the ogres’ fierce yells and the sound of their horns, Mina’s officers began shouting orders. Her Knights turned their horses, ready to gallop back to face the foe. The wagon masters plied the whip, the draft horses snorted and strained.
“Pull those wagons forward!” Galdar bellowed out commands. “Footmen, form a line across the trail, anchor on the river. Captain Samuval, your men take positions behind—”
“No,” said Mina and though she did not raise her voice, her single word sounded like a clarion and brought all action to a halt. The clamor and uproar fell silent. The men turned to look at her. “We are not going to fight the ogres. We’re going to flee them.”
“The ogres will chase after us, Mina,” Samuval protested.
“We’ll never be able to outrun them. We have to stand and fight!”
“Wagon masters,” Mina called, ignoring him, “cut free the horses!”
“But Mina!” Galdar added his own protest “we can’t leave the supplies!”
“The wagons slow us down,” Mina replied. “Instead, we will allow the wagons to slow down the ogres.”
Galdar stared. At first he didn’t comprehend, and then he saw her plan.
“It just might work,” he said, mulling over her strategy in his mind.
“It will work,” said Samuval jubilantly. “We’ll toss the wagons to the ogres like you toss food to a ravening wolf pack at your heels. An ogre raiding party will not be able to resist such a prize.”
“Footmen, form a double line, march column. Prepare to move out. You will run,” Mina told the men, “but not in a panic. You will run until you have no more strength left to run and then you will run faster.”
“Perhaps the dragons will come to our aid,” said Samuval, glancing skyward. “If they’re even still up there.”
“They’re up there,” Galdar growled, “but they won’t come to our rescue. If we’re wiped out at the hands of ogres, Targonne will be spared the expense of executing us.”
“We’re not going to be wiped out” Mina said crisply. “Pass the word for Subcommander Paregin!”
“I am here, Mina!” The officer pushed his way forward through his men, who were hurriedly falling into position.
“Paregin, you are loyal to me?”
“Yes, Mina,” he said firmly.
“You asked for a chance to prove that loyalty.”
“Yes, Mina, I did,” he said again, but this time his voice faltered.
“I saved your life,” Mina said. The shouts and yells of the ogres were coming closer. The men glanced uneasily behind them. “That life is therefore mine.”
“Yes, Mina,” he replied.
“Subcommander Paregin, you and your men will remain here to defend the wagons. You will hold off the ogres as long as possible, thereby giving the rest of us the time we need to escape.”
Paregin swallowed. “Yes, Mina,” he said, but he said the words without a voice.
“I will pray for you, Paregin,” Mina said softly. She extended her hand to him. “And for all those who stay behind. The One God blesses you and accepts your sacrifice. Take your positions.”