“Clever,” responded Ukaro, “but why not just annihilate the thousand intruders?”
“There is another group coming after them,” frowned HawkShadow. “That second group numbers ten thousand. We cannot possibly hope to scare that many men. What we can hope to do is frighten the second group by letting them hear the stories of the first group. I think that will be more effective than annihilating the thousand men.”
“I suspect that you are correct,” nodded Ukaro. “Your group is far too small to oppose ten thousand men. I wonder if even just a thousand is a stretch for this small group. You will be outnumbered ten to one.”
“If the Omungans were not already frightened,” frowned HawkShadow, “your analysis would be valid. We will win the day tomorrow. Of that I have no doubt. What bothers me is the cost to our people. One cannot expect to go against such odds and escape unscathed. Some fine Sakovans will not survive tomorrow’s battle.”
“Such is the way of war,” shrugged Ukaro. “I suspect that the Sakovans, like the Chula, have been losing warriors steadily over the years. Each loss is a disaster, yet each warrior freely gives his life for the benefit of the others. Do not lessen their gift with too much sorrow. Be glad that your people love you enough to make the ultimate sacrifice.”
“I think the Chula and the Sakovans have much in common,” replied HawkShadow. “I have heard your words before, but they came from the mouth of a Sakovan.”
“Then you have had wise counsel,” smiled the Chula shaman. “Why are the Omungans afraid to come here? Surely, it is more than just your cutting of their hair?”
“It is,” nodded HawkShadow. “For many years we have sent people into the Omungan cities to spread tales about the dangerous Sakova. The tales speak of strange and mysterious creatures that abide in the Sakova. They speak of innumerable ways to die. Basically, we have painted a picture so bleak that Omungans have come to dread the Sakova. Even these soldiers would not dare to come here except for the specific orders that they cannot disobey.”
“You must tell me as many of these tales as you can,” urged Ukaro. “I am sure that they will point to a way that I can help.”
* * *
Ukaro woke early and sat watching the Sakovans rise and prepare for a day of battle. SkyDancer noticed the Chula shaman and brought him a cup of coffee.
“Thank you,” Ukaro smiled, his nose crinkling and his long whiskers dancing lightly in the soft morning breeze. “You Sakovans are indeed a kindred folk to the Chula. I almost feel at home here in the Sakova watching the camp come alive.”
“It is a shame that our people became so isolated,” remarked SkyDancer as she sat down next to Ukaro. “I suspect that we could have learned much from each other over the years.”
“We will not be isolated much longer,” replied Ukaro. “The long awaited day of Kaltara is soon upon us.” Ukaro’s eyes roved over the campsite and returned to gaze upon SkyDancer. “I do not see HawkShadow this morning,” he continued. “Do you know how his foray into the enemy campsite went last night?”
“I am letting him sleep in,” smiled SkyDancer. “We had a hard night of it.”
“You were with the group last night?” asked the Chula shaman.
“It was just HawkShadow and myself,” nodded SkyDancer. “The Omungans were more nervous than we thought. Half of the camp was awake last night. We only managed to get six tails.”
“Six tails with half the camp awake is quite a testament to your skill,” congratulated Ukaro. “What is the plan for today?”
“We pretty much know the path that the Omungans will take,” answered SkyDancer. “We will have several Sakovans show themselves at times throughout the day. The intent is to make them more nervous. Sometime after high sun the Omungans will enter a narrow defile. That is where we will attack them. It is hoped that we will only have to kill a small percentage of them before they are routed.”
“So you expect their nervousness to cause enough havoc that the Omungans will flee in the face of danger?” asked Ukaro.
“Precisely,” nodded SkyDancer. “At least that is HawkShadow’s plan.”
“It is a sound one,” commented Ukaro. “Why the showing of Sakovans during the day? Would it not be better to eliminate a few Omungans before the defile instead of just scaring them?”
“That is an option,” answered a groggy HawkShadow as he appeared from behind a giant fargi tree. “I am loath to break the Omungans stride towards the defile, though. If we can safely eliminate a few stragglers before the defile, we will do so.”
“Who are these Sakovans that will show themselves?” asked the Chula shaman. “Why will that rile the Omungans?”
“Some Sakovans are stark enough figures that they can reinforce the tales told over the years,” smiled HawkShadow. “You met Goral yesterday. Imagine him astride a choka. That sight is sure to unnerve the Omungans. In fact, we have used that tactic before and it worked quite well.”
“I can picture that image,” chuckled Ukaro. “It would be enough to catch the attention of even the Chula. I would like to offer my services if I may.”
HawkShadow stared at the Chula shaman for a moment. His appraising gaze ended with the corners of his mouth turning upward in a grin.
“Astride your tiger?” he asked.
“Of course,” grinned Ukaro. “From the tales you told me last night, that vision would fit well into what the Omungans hope not to see.”
“You are correct,” nodded HawkShadow, “but I fear for your safety. Your tiger might sprint well, but the Omungans may decide to give chase.”
“You underestimate me,” Ukaro said as his split lips parted widely in a grin. “I am quite capable of defending myself. Plus, if they do give chase, it will provide the perfect opportunity to eliminate a few of them.”
“You will have to get close enough to them to let them see your facial features,” warned HawkShadow. “Anything less would not arouse them.”
“Agreed,” Ukaro nodded vigorously. “I know that you are treating me as a special emissary and are afraid to risk my death, but I assure you that I will be alright. I already informed Lyra that I planned to take an active role during my stay in the Sakova. In fact, she has agreed to let me lead a group of mages towards Tanzaba.”
“Tanzaba?” questioned HawkShadow. “Why would we need mages down there?”
“It is the closest that the Sakova comes to the road to Alamar,” explained Ukaro. “We are to halt any movements of siege engines heading towards Alamar. I will be leaving for there right after today’s battle. The other mages are already on their way.”
“Very well then,” grinned HawkShadow. “We will accept your aid. I will arrange for a raiding party to be prepared for the Omungans that chase you. That will certainly add to their nervousness when they reach the defile.”
“I would also like to play a part at the defile,” pushed Ukaro. “I have a thought about how to initiate the attack. It will add maximum discomfort before the arrows start flying.”
* * *
The Omungans rode four abreast as their long column snaked through the ancient fargi forest. The troops were obviously nervous, their heads swiveling in all directions as they rode. When Goral appeared on a rise to the column’s right, the Omungans shouted loudly and pointed. Goral wore a bright red robe and held a massive maul in one fist. He sat erect on his warbird and glared at the Omungans. The Omungan column faltered and horses bumped into one another. Several Omungans left the column and started heading towards Goral, but shouted orders brought them back into line. After a few minutes, Goral disappeared over the rise. The Omungan officers shouted orders to get the column back into position.
Less than an hour later, Ukaro appeared astride his tiger. He positioned himself on a promontory that overlooked the trail. He was much closer than Goral had been, but the location had been chosen wisely. Ukaro would have a straight run into the forest while the Omungans would have to climb the grade on either side of the promontory.