[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
give him their assent. He nodded to each, drawing them to him with his eyes and smile, binding them to
him with their unspoken promise, making them a part of the plan he had formed.
Listen closely, then, he whispered, and he told them what he would do.
The attack did not take place that night, but on the night following. It took another day to complete
preparations, to choose the men who would participate, and then to send Kier Joplin and his riders north
and Cormorant Etrurian and his Hunters south, both commands departing at sunrise and staying within
the concealment provided by the forests and bluffs so that they could make their way to their respective
destinations unseen. Their commands were necessarily small, for stealth and swiftness would serve their
cause far better than size. Each had specific instructions on what to do and when to do it. Coordinating
the various elements of the assault called for precise timing. If the strikes did not take place in their
proper sequence, the assault would fail.
Jerle Shannara led the center group, a company composed of archers and Home Guard. The fighting
would be most fierce where they went, and he would not allow anyone else to stand in his place. Bremen
was furious. He approved of the plan. He applauded the king s innovation and daring. But it was
madness for the king to lead the attack himself.
Think, Elven King! If you fall here, all is lost no matter what is gained! He had made his argument to
Jerle and Preia Starle after the others had departed. The wispy hair and beard had flown in all directions
with the old man s angry gestures. You cannot risk your own life in this! You must stay alive for your
confrontation with Brona!
They had stood close to one another amid the shadows, the day gone to dusk. Outside, preparations
were already under way for the morrow s strike. Jerle Shannara had convinced his commanders, the
force of his arguments and reason too strong for any to stand against, too persuasive for any to ignore.
One by one, they had capitulated Joplin first, then the others. In the end, they had been as enthusiastic
about the plan as he was.
He is right, Preia Starle had agreed. Listen to him.
He is wrong, Jerle had replied, his voice quiet, his manner calm, holding them both speechless with
the force of his conviction. A king must lead by example. Here, particularly, in this situation, where so
much is at risk. I cannot ask another to do what I would not do myself. The army looks to me. These
men know I lead, that I do not stay behind. They will expect no less of me here, and I will not disappoint
them.
He would not give in on this. He would not compromise. So he was leading as he said he would, the
misgivings of the Druid notwithstanding, and Preia, as always, was with him. They crept out of the dark at
midnight, slipped from the valley, and crossed the plains toward the enemy camp. They were only several
hundred strong, with twice as many archers as Home Guard. A handful crept ahead, as silent as ghosts,
and dispatched the Northland sentries that patrolled the camp perimeter. Soon the main body of the
attack force was less than fifty yards out. There they crouched, weapons in hand, waiting.
When the attack came, it was sharp and unrelenting. It began north, with Kier Joplin. The Elven
Commander had bound with heavy fabric the hooves of his men s horses and then walked two hundred
riders down out of the north Streleheim after sunset.
When the Elves were less than a hundred yards from the north perimeter of the camp they removed
the baffles, waited until an hour past midnight, then mounted their horses and charged. They were on top
of the Northlanders before the alarm could be given.
They struck at the flanks of the latest supply train, newly arrived and not yet unloaded, its handlers
waiting for the morning light.
The Elves snatched brands from the smoldering watch fires as they rode in and set the wagons ablaze.
Then they wheeled across the staging area for the siege machines and fired the nearest of those as well.
Flames soared skyward as the riders raced through the camp and disappeared again into the night. They
were gone so fast that a response was still forming when the second strike commenced.
This one came from Cormorant Etrurian to the southwest. He waited until he saw the flames of the first
strike and then attacked.
With five hundred foot soldiers already in place, he drove a wedge deep into the enemy horse camp,
killing handlers and setting free their animals, chasing them into the night. Hand-to-hand fighting was fierce
for a few moments, but then the Elves swung west, raking the camp perimeter as they retreated, breaking
quickly for the darkness of the plains.
The Northland response was swifter this time, but confused, for the attack seemed to be coming from
everywhere. Massive Rock Trolls, only half-armored, but gripping huge battle-axes and pikes, swept
aside everything that stood in their path as they sought to engage their attackers. But siege machines and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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give him their assent. He nodded to each, drawing them to him with his eyes and smile, binding them to
him with their unspoken promise, making them a part of the plan he had formed.
Listen closely, then, he whispered, and he told them what he would do.
The attack did not take place that night, but on the night following. It took another day to complete
preparations, to choose the men who would participate, and then to send Kier Joplin and his riders north
and Cormorant Etrurian and his Hunters south, both commands departing at sunrise and staying within
the concealment provided by the forests and bluffs so that they could make their way to their respective
destinations unseen. Their commands were necessarily small, for stealth and swiftness would serve their
cause far better than size. Each had specific instructions on what to do and when to do it. Coordinating
the various elements of the assault called for precise timing. If the strikes did not take place in their
proper sequence, the assault would fail.
Jerle Shannara led the center group, a company composed of archers and Home Guard. The fighting
would be most fierce where they went, and he would not allow anyone else to stand in his place. Bremen
was furious. He approved of the plan. He applauded the king s innovation and daring. But it was
madness for the king to lead the attack himself.
Think, Elven King! If you fall here, all is lost no matter what is gained! He had made his argument to
Jerle and Preia Starle after the others had departed. The wispy hair and beard had flown in all directions
with the old man s angry gestures. You cannot risk your own life in this! You must stay alive for your
confrontation with Brona!
They had stood close to one another amid the shadows, the day gone to dusk. Outside, preparations
were already under way for the morrow s strike. Jerle Shannara had convinced his commanders, the
force of his arguments and reason too strong for any to stand against, too persuasive for any to ignore.
One by one, they had capitulated Joplin first, then the others. In the end, they had been as enthusiastic
about the plan as he was.
He is right, Preia Starle had agreed. Listen to him.
He is wrong, Jerle had replied, his voice quiet, his manner calm, holding them both speechless with
the force of his conviction. A king must lead by example. Here, particularly, in this situation, where so
much is at risk. I cannot ask another to do what I would not do myself. The army looks to me. These
men know I lead, that I do not stay behind. They will expect no less of me here, and I will not disappoint
them.
He would not give in on this. He would not compromise. So he was leading as he said he would, the
misgivings of the Druid notwithstanding, and Preia, as always, was with him. They crept out of the dark at
midnight, slipped from the valley, and crossed the plains toward the enemy camp. They were only several
hundred strong, with twice as many archers as Home Guard. A handful crept ahead, as silent as ghosts,
and dispatched the Northland sentries that patrolled the camp perimeter. Soon the main body of the
attack force was less than fifty yards out. There they crouched, weapons in hand, waiting.
When the attack came, it was sharp and unrelenting. It began north, with Kier Joplin. The Elven
Commander had bound with heavy fabric the hooves of his men s horses and then walked two hundred
riders down out of the north Streleheim after sunset.
When the Elves were less than a hundred yards from the north perimeter of the camp they removed
the baffles, waited until an hour past midnight, then mounted their horses and charged. They were on top
of the Northlanders before the alarm could be given.
They struck at the flanks of the latest supply train, newly arrived and not yet unloaded, its handlers
waiting for the morning light.
The Elves snatched brands from the smoldering watch fires as they rode in and set the wagons ablaze.
Then they wheeled across the staging area for the siege machines and fired the nearest of those as well.
Flames soared skyward as the riders raced through the camp and disappeared again into the night. They
were gone so fast that a response was still forming when the second strike commenced.
This one came from Cormorant Etrurian to the southwest. He waited until he saw the flames of the first
strike and then attacked.
With five hundred foot soldiers already in place, he drove a wedge deep into the enemy horse camp,
killing handlers and setting free their animals, chasing them into the night. Hand-to-hand fighting was fierce
for a few moments, but then the Elves swung west, raking the camp perimeter as they retreated, breaking
quickly for the darkness of the plains.
The Northland response was swifter this time, but confused, for the attack seemed to be coming from
everywhere. Massive Rock Trolls, only half-armored, but gripping huge battle-axes and pikes, swept
aside everything that stood in their path as they sought to engage their attackers. But siege machines and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]