Vilos sat in Abin’s tent waiting for the wizard to finish talking to his apprentice. The usual stench was absent today and thank heaven for that. Vilos could still smell whatever it was in his clothes.
When the wizard finally looked up Vilos asked, “Well, what news?”
Abin cleared his throat, never a good sign. “First, there’s no need to march tomorrow, the nomads besieging Black Moon Oasis have fled the field. When the sun rose this morning the wall guards said they had just vanished.”
Vilos nodded, not entirely displeased. “That’s just as well. I grow weary of fighting my own people. What about Nord?”
“That news is less encouraging. Your brother marched this morning at the head of an army ten thousand strong. They should reach Black Moon Oasis by the end of the week.”
“Damn, that isn’t enough time to set up a proper defense. What do we know about his army?”
Abin handed him a sheet of vellum. “This is all the information our people could get. They have at least one wizard and the majority of their force is infantry. They traded their horses for camels and now have a desert cavalry force about half the size of ours.”
“I can read,” Vilos said, waving the report at him.
“Sorry, Majesty.”
“No, I’m sorry. I fear the strain is starting to show. We can’t defend Black Moon. Send a message alerting them to the danger and order all soldiers to return to civilian status. When Nord arrives, tell them to offer no resistance. My brother wants to rule this land. He won’t burn out a village unless they give him a reason to.”
“Right, anything else?”
“After the main force leaves, tell them to make life as difficult as possible for any garrison left behind. Also send a warning to all the other villages. They need to know what’s happening.” Vilos left Abin to his work and went to find Yosef.
The army’s temporary smithy was little more than a tent with a charcoal forge, an anvil, and a sharpening stone. The cavalry commander watched the smith run his scimitar along a spinning stone wheel with a critical eye. Sparks flew as the smith put a razor edge on the blade.
Vilos tapped his friend on the shoulder. Yosef spun and fell into a battle-ready crouch. Seeing his lord he straightened.
“We need to talk,” Vilos said.
Yosef nodded. “Master Smith, have that blade delivered to my tent when you’re finished.”
The smith grunted without taking his eyes off the blade.
Vilos led Yosef back to his tent. Once inside he filled him in on the situation.
“Good fortune about the nomads,” Yosef said.
“Perhaps they’ve had enough of their rebellion.”
“The nomads never considered themselves a part of the High Kingdom, so I doubt they’d call it a rebellion,” Yosef pointed out. “Anyway, I’m glad they’ve made the smart choice. Even if it was a little late in coming.”
“Agreed.”
Vilos hung his head. Heaven’s mercy, he missed Shara. Just the sight of her could bring a smile to his face. He could use that smile right now.
“What about your brother?” Yosef asked.
“That’s why I brought you here. I want you to take some cavalrymen and harass his army as they travel.”
“Where will you fight the main battle?” Yosef asked.
“Main battle? I’m not certain I understand.”
“Where will you confront your brother? Where will the army make its stand?”
“There will be no stand while Nord has Heat’s Bane. Our armies are about equal. With that sword, my brother could wipe out a third of our forces, leaving the rest easy pickings for his army.”
“Majesty, we can’t just run away.” Yosef began pacing around the tent.
“I share your sentiment, Captain, but now is not the time to act foolishly. If we’re patient, the time to strike will come. It would be nice if we had an army available when it does. I assure you it galls me to run from Nord, but if anyone can appreciate the power of the weapon he carries it’s me.”
“As you say, Majesty. When do I leave?”
“As soon as you can get your best two hundred riders supplied and ready. Let me remind you that under no circumstances should you allow Nord to engage you directly, just hit and fade. Your riders should be better than his on camels.”
Yosef smiled, an odd reaction Vilos thought. “Would you care to share? I could use a laugh.”
“It’s nothing really funny, it just struck me that the tactics you just described are the preferred fighting style of the nomads.”
Vilos smiled as well. “Yes, I can appreciate the irony. Let us hope it works better for us than it did for them.”
Yosef lay flat on a low dune near the oasis where Nord’s army stopped. He, along with all the men that rode with him, had traded his uniform for tan robes that let him blend in to the desert. At first Yosef couldn’t imagine what Nord could be thinking camping so near the poisoned water. It would be a simple thing for someone to fall in or get splashed. His men could be killed by the dozens.
When Nord had poured some liquid into the water Yosef had been curious then stunned when Nord had taken a huge gulp. His first thought was that the exiled prince had decided to commit suicide and save them the trouble of killing him.
When nothing happened and the soldiers began splashing in the water he realized whatever Nord had poured in had negated the poison. His lord would be most interested in this news. It removed all doubt that Nord and the mysterious sorcerer were aligned. No one else could have the knowledge to negate the poison.
As soon as they began unpacking their tents, Yosef slithered back down behind the dune. It seemed they planned to rest before advancing on Black Moon. Tonight he would get his first chance to inflict some harm on the invaders.
When darkness fell Yosef selected ten men to accompany him on the first raid. He had no idea what sort of defenses Nord might have around his camp, so Yosef planned to risk as few men as possible finding out.
As they approached the oasis, Yosef saw the glow from a few fires. He signaled his men to spread out and look around. The plan was to take out anyone they could, as fast as they could.
Yosef eased his way closer, his feet not making a sound in the soft sand. A soft cough stopped him in his tracks. In the dim starlight he could just make out the form of a sentry. The soldier was facing away from him, watching the desert without really seeing anything.
Yosef drew his curve-bladed dagger. He held it in a reverse grip, blade pointed down.
Creeping slowly closer Yosef kept an eye on the sentry for any signs that he’d been spotted.
When only a few feet separated them, Yosef took two quick steps, wrapped his hand over the man’s mouth, and brought the dagger around to drive it into his heart.
It all happened in one fluid movement then the kid was dead. Yosef realized as he lowered him to the ground the sentry couldn’t have been more than eighteen. He gave a grim shake of his head and ripped the dagger free. Leaving the body where it lay, Yosef went in search of further victims.
The job was bloody, but short. In five minutes Yosef killed three guards, leaving their bodies in pools of blood. He crept away from the camp toward the rendezvous point he’d set. One of his men was waiting and the rest trickled in after a few minutes. Yosef was pleased that they’d all made it back unhurt.
When everyone had arrived he led them to where their camels waited. They mounted up and headed north toward their camp. It was Yosef’s hope that Nord would be less likely to pursue them if he had to retrace his steps to do it.