CHAPTER III: BLOOD FOR BLOOD

Author's note: Well this is probably my favorite chapter of TSP out off all that I've written of this story. This entire chapter except for the opening scene will revolve around the ambush on Dorthin's army led by Hakemillion. Well, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it and please leave a review. By the way, I also included some background information on the weapons used in this ambush within the battle scenes like the tiger claw and anelace.

xxx

Collin shaded his eyes with his paws. The sun was bright but not hot. He watched the gathering masses of Dorthin's army. It was pitiful, really. They knew when the attack would come but not from where. Collin found a comfortable seating for his back in the misshapen formation of rearing cliffs. He would just sit back and watch…

The sun partly clouded his vision. Memories of distant time were brought to his mind. He and his brother Dorthin had been sons to the great mouse lord Kullak. Collin had been the firstborn, so he was rightfully the heir to the power. Or was, for there had been that incident…

Collin and Dorthin struggled across the cliff face, fleeing from the enemy that had brought their father's death around.

"Hurry up, Collin." Dorthin's voice was full of fond affection. Collin struggled to catch up with his brother, who had always been the superior climber. Dorthin seemed to slow down, and Collin reached the top first. He stretched and offered a paw to his brother.

"Come on, Do," muttered Collin, helping Dorthin up. He then turned and started to take note of his surroundings, looking for a possible escape out of this mess. He felt a sudden push at his back and he was falling in the ravine below…

Collin traced the scars on his face. He hoped Hakemillion wouldn't kill his treacherous brother. He wanted the honors. His clenched fist tightened, smothering the darkness within.

xxx

Colonel Panias Urayling enjoyed being the top officer around; Dorthin didn't elect generals.

Panias was a tall, broad-shouldered otter, muscles bulging from underneath his nylon uniform. He was beginning to get frail on in his years; gray wisps of fur shadowed his temple and wizened creases stretched across his stony face; body drooped, slightly, with age. But the ebon eyes still burnt resolutely and he held himself firmly. Panias could still take on anyone in the army and hold the upper paw, and now that Trentl was dead he was the most experienced veteran around.

Panias was in charge of the troops remaining in the valley. The rest had gone to scout for the enemy: thirty patrols, a score strong each. A few faithful soldiers and bodyguards protected Dorthin in a secret, dugout tunnel. They would bring their leader to safety at the second there was no hope for the army. But of course Panias wouldn't let it get that far…

A captain drew a salute as he rushed to Panias's side, ribs heaving with the hard run's exertion. "Report," stated Panias coolly.

"Sir, me and my patrol were heading southeast when we witnessed several thousands of soldiers crossing a river on slaves-skin boats-" the squirrel captain shuddered with a grimace. "We took them to be Hakemillion's vermin. We followed them and uncovered their tactics. They divided into fractions and-". The captain tumbled backwards a shaft jutting out of his skull. And are heading here right now, finished Panias mentally.

His whole life the commander had been trained for action in dire situations. Reflexes, reflexes, his father and instructor had drilled into his brain. He had learned how to swivel and turn in a split second from any position, how to leap about, crouch and dodge, how to jump, duck and weave through living beings, shrubbery or any other material. He had learned how to counter in fractions of a second, how to focus and concentrate immensely on the task. Now these movements spilled out fast and fluidly with complete certainty.

Panias bent in an eye flashing turn, weaving through the soldiers, a living shield protecting him. Soldiers and veterans fell on all sides around him, fire arrows shot from the summit of the hill snuffing their lives out. Some of the soldiers died in the blink of an eye but the unlucky ones gurgled about, spraying blood, the fire spreading across their torso. Not exactly what you would call a pleasant death scene.

Panias drew near the front, a paw unhooking a crossbow from his back. Fitting a black-iron bolt to the metal bow he sighted down it. Later Panias would declare that he had done it by instinct, since by nature he was a modest colonel. However, undeniably, it had been an impressive feat.

His brain drowned the sound and cries around him. All thoughts were drawn into a distant abyss in his mind. His focus was complete. Time froze. The settings of where the fire-arrow band was located floated up in front of him. It was like he had pressed a "zoom-in" button in his retina. He did not move but he saw the tiniest detail from the top of the ridge. He sighted his crossbow on the leader but changed his mind. That might send the group in disarray but it would kill only one person. Then he saw the perfect target.

It was a huge willow tree, partly uprooted. It was leaning to one side. The roots were showing and the tree was decaying. Over half of the roots had been cut and only a small mass of supporting plants held it. If those roots were to be cut… well let's just say it would annihilate a considerable number of the archers. Exactly Panias's intention. He sighted the bolt on the cloud of thin roots and let loose.

Time continued on its way and the noise, action, smell and thoughts came leaping back in a thunderous leap. Panias stared at the bolt as it sped toward the summit. As a few archers began nocking arrows to their bows the bolt came thundering like an angry, very angry wasp. The tree tilted downwards on the impact . . .

. . . and crashed down. Surprised shrieks sounded from the top and there was a lull in the sniping. Panias took this moment as a chance to install order.

"Keep your heads down and regroup!" roared Panias. "Regroup and fall back!" They did just that.

The troops drew back out of range in the lower part of the valley, which was dotted with shrubbery and vegetation. The temperature was cool and a light Eastern breeze ruffled Panias's cape. It was the perfect afternoon for a picnic, but Panias had no illusions about picnics on his mind. It was time to show the enemy a taste of real fighting.

The center is the best place for a commander to be, theorized Panias, because from the center you have the safest location against the enemy and can command the forward and back troops better due to the fact that you can actually see how they are faring. So it was due to this smart decision that Panias uncovered Kabbin's troops serving as the back snipers in Hakemillion's ambush, hoping to catch the army in a pincer movement.

The front regiments of the infantry soldiers had been doing fairly well, struggling with corpses and withdrawing the wounded, so Panias had turned his attention to the cavalry located at the back. They were withdrawing in a disorganized manner and a few were accidentally spewing backwards in other directions. Panias drew closer. Behind the bushes dead bodies thudded to the ground. Panias seized up the situation in a second.

"Attackers from the back," he barked sharply, "Turn around in a half circle and cut them off in a flanking maneuver. Charge with shields at the front pikes and spears straight. Loose off a few arrows before engaging, a few less enemies to deal with! Behind the front ranks of the cavalry, you infantrymen hold your axes and halberds straight, swords at the side…CHARGE!"

And so they charged, thundering through the shrubbery, trampling vegetation beneath their hind paws. The snipers tumbled backwards, loosing missiles as they fled to regroup into groups, and attack furiously using the "turtle formation". Casualties ran high on both sides as a creamy sunset illuminated a real-life display of disorganized melee fighting.

xxx

Hakemillion gazed down on the valley being demolished to ruined and scattered soil among dead bodies. It was simple to describe the scene by two words: 'Chaos reigned'. The false Lord turned to his generals and remaining troops, an unreadable expression pasted on his face.

"Radden…"

"Sir."

"You must send in your back-up troops," ordered Henrick. " We do have enough chaos to cover Ujan's troops-" because of the 'mysterious'disappearance of General Trew (nobody had seen the duel and Scabiniel had not even thought about confessing) his topmost colonel, Ujan, had gotten his rank, "-so they can blend in with Dorthin's soldiers in their retreat, but we're not such a threat that they should retreat." Henrick grinned ferally. "Or at least not yet!"

Radden Sikkan nodded his short ferret form shuddering delightfully with the thought of bloodshed. "Yes sir," he agreed.

Hakemillion gave his last commands. "Right. The Cavalry will be at the head and then a regiment of infantry following just behind. Remain undercover until drawing close enough to the scene. Then attack." Henrick turned to Ujan. "You and your troops. Glad that you got the uniforms on already. Anyways, circle around the scene of battle until you reach the base of the cliffs. From there casually drop into the ranks, a few at a time."

The stoat nodded and turned to his 'would-be undercover workers'. Meanwhile Radden rallied his troops and swept among the shadows of the fringe of trees. There was a scent of salt in the air as the new element entered battle.

The more the merrier!

xxx

Panias wasn't exactly overcome by battle lust, though it would have been helpful if he had been. They were losing the battle; heaven's sake an infantcould have come up with that conclusion. The troops led by the short Radden Sikkan had decapitated two hundred soldiers from the back in the blink of an eye. They were still pressing on strongly. Meanwhile the snipers had managed to regroup and were pelting the cavalry with numerous missiles: slinging river pebbles, shooting arrows and crossbow bolts, firing feathered darts, and hurling short javelins with determination etched in their every throw.

Vermin and goodbeasts alike died in agony, pools of blood forming on the battlefield. Wounded beasts and dead corpses depicted the scene, and the soldiers under Panias's command were starting to lose hope.

Panias cut down an infantry beast with a carefully placed slash of his glaive. The enemy came in never-ending waves of death. Panias was splattered head to toe in bloody gore, a considerable amount his own. He gave an inaudible gasp of pain as an anelace (a heavy, broad-bladed, sharp-pointed, double-edged knife, worn primarily by civilians at the girdle) bit into his wrist. He looked at the wrongdoer and was surprised to see the commander of the close combat troops. Ah, a chance to turn the tide of battle in their favor.

"As a fellow commander, I challenge you to a duel." The words from Panias were spoken with ease, but on the surrounding fighters it had an effect. Radden could not refuse without having his pride and honor take a serious beating…

xxx

Ujan struggled over the treacherous rocks, high-footing to keep his balance. He and his squad had to keep in the shadows of the looming wall of granite, dodging the sharp and dangerous rocks that seemed to sprout from the ground, in their mission to reach the base of the cliff. From there they could blend in with Dorthin's army in their retreat; they already had the uniforms on.

Why couldn't some other snitnose, oafish dolt do this? Inwardly questioned Ujan. He was the only general that had to slog in this damned terrain where one slip of his foot would send him to his demise, while the other generals reveled in pain and blood on the battlefield.

"There it is!" screeched a soldier in the front. "There it is-" Ujan sprinted ahead and tackled the soldier from behind, clamping a rough paw over his mouth. "What the h#& do you think you're doing!" he whispered fiercely, anger written on every facial feature. "Do you mean to blow our COVER!"

Ujan helped the soldier to his feet and then with a move hard to follow, he pushed him backwards an arm flailing against his feet. The soldier was jerked of his feet and with a crack (CRACK!) his skull was smashed against the now-bloody rocks. Ujan stepped over him and stared at the rest of the group defiantly.

"I don't need blabbermouths who get us killed, in this group," he stated flatly, expressionless eyes roving over his soldiers. "Next one who utters a sound louder than a whisper…I'll gut him down the middle and leave him here to bleed to death."

The group resumed their march, silent as mice.

Shabinya scurried to her general, body shaking with exhaustion. "Down…at the battle…field," the she-fox gasped between mouthfuls of air, taking the intent to whisper to heart. "Duel…officer of….Dorthin's and Radden…Sik-". She collapsed to the ground, struggling to contain herself. "I think the winner will decide if Dorthin's army will retreat," the fem concluded, gazing at Ujan for answers.

"How good is this enemy officer?" inquired Ujan.

"Pretty good. He certainly has a chance."

"Hmmm," mused Ujan, scratching his sparse chin fur. He fixed the group with a determined glare. "Then we will make sure Radden does not lose."

xxx

There was a rough sketch of a court drawn in the mud. This was the ground for the two duelists to 'duke it out'. Nobody was to interfere.

Radden had cloaked himself in a tough, stringy, loose robe, cut at the thighs. He seemed to be going for speed rather than protection with his textile. He fixed a pair of 'tiger claws' The tiger claw was a favorite weapon of assassins and thieves in India and other parts of the Middle East; It was used against unarmored opponents for hand-to-hand combat; It was held facing outward with the bar in the palm of the hand (not the fist), and used with a slapping motion that would tear and rip unprotected skin; Quite a nasty weapon; If one wanted to kill rather than just maim, poison could be placed on the claws, though that was dangerous as a wrong move could kill the wielder as well to the palm of his paws. He gave a few probing slashes and then settled to grinning feral-like at his opponent.

Panias, on the other side, had fitted a steel cuirass on his torso. He hefted the wooden pole of his glaive in his paws; he experimented with a few expert twists to get the feel of the weapon in his paws. He stared down the court at his enemy, matching glare for glare. The onlookers drew their breath…the duel was about to begin.

The two combatants circled each other, instincts and skill stretched to infinity. Radden made the first offensive move: a lightning quick swipe with careless ease. The general moved to avoid Panias's counter with the glaive. Panias grinned superiorly; the slash had only caused a shearing sound, and a few scratches that glinted in the sunlight, ominously, on his cuirass. Though the armor might hamper his movements, it would without a doubt gave him much needed protection.

Radden had certainly learned his lesson…. his next move was more strategic: a stab with the tiger claws between two plates of armor. Panias felt blood drip over his ribs. Though the wound was not serious, it sure irritated Panias with the fleeting stabs of pain. Panias swiped with the glaive and this time he did not miss. A flap of Radden's cloak decorated the ground but the offensive swipe yielded no blood.

"First blood," taunted Radden.

"Maybe, but it's not as important as the last," retorted Panias.

"True. And even truer it will be your blood."

The duelists clashed again and this time Panias managed to draw blood. Radden hobbled backwards, face twisted in pain as he transiently inspected his left leg and cursed. The blow had dug past the flesh and rubbed against the bone. His leg was drenched in blood, and every second was a challenge with pain.

It took a moment for Radden to inspect his damaged leg. But a moment was all Panias needed. As quick as his armor allowed him he was on Radden. Blows to the head, chest and stomach came hurling like a tornado. Crimson gashes started forming instantly on various parts of Radden's body. In a desperate move, Radden latched his tiger claws on Panias's face and dragged down, puncturing flesh and gouging veins, ripping nostrils and scratching disfigured shapes on his cheeks.

The result was horrendous and Panias pulled back, shocked. His clawed face set quite a new meaning to the word, 'macabre'. Radden took this disengaging moment to stumble backwards, blood covering him in a scarlet blanket and wounds adorning his body, but weakly smiling with relief. As Panias charged again, a flurry of arrows (speeding from the direction of the cliffs) struck him dead on. Colonel Panias Urayling was dead before he hit the ground.

Meanwhile, back at the base of the cliff, archers congratulated themselves. Even Ujan managed a triumphant grin. They gazed down at the desperate retreat from Dorthin's army. Stage two of the ambush would soon begin.

xxx

Well, now that I've gotten used to sort of revising my chapters I can tell you that I plan to have this story with slightly over thirty chapters and if I ever do finish this novel I will make a sequel and make this the first book in a trilogy. But a lot can happen from then to now so I won't say anything absolute yet.

Agent D: "You review, I review"-Yeah that is sort of an unspoken agreement around here. Well, I must say that this will be the last thing I will be posting up until the middle of July since I will be at this camp thingamajigger. I was planning to watch the "War of the Worlds" since I did like the novel by H.G. Wells. And well, the yatagan thing was from my original work, where characters could have access to weapons from Turkey. Same thing goes with the realism issue.

Grubswiper: You should have a prize for reviewing everything I've posted up. Here, I think a brownie will keep you going. :gives brownie:

Mr. Nice Guy, The Flamer, and…Jack: Wow, Dr. Evil and his family musta been rich for you to get three trillion. And Mr. Nice Guy wasn't really that nice, was he? Thanks for all the unneeded dialogue-it lengthened my review board. Well, this time I actually checked my work, I swear, twice and I did find a lot of mistakes. You see, each chapter I do, I just revise the chapter from my original work and submit it. So, when I checked carefully I saw a lot of mistakes, mostly hands-paws and I think horses got dragged into it somewhere.