15. One Hundred Yards

It was a good thing they'd taken those soldiers' weapons and armor. By the time the Tarrenko regiment reached the Jilken skirmish it was blindingly apparent, even under the weak moonlight, why Errol and her troop had lost six people in under a minute. They were still wearing their old hand-made armor and working with tree branches. The reason they hadn't just taken the better armor at the base and escaped in it was anybody's guess; Jack permitted himself a few seconds to be exasperated. It was too late for anger or finger-wagging, though. Weapons were clashing and several deaths had occurred as a result. That had to stop.

So Jack and half of the Tarrenko forces kept the soldiers busy, disarming and knocking out everyone they could reach, while the other half distributed the plundered armor and weapons among Errol's newly-thinned regiment. The healers set to work getting everyone they could back on their feet. By the time the healers had finished, they'd saved a meager thirty. Fifty were gone. But the regiment, now beefed up with the Tarrenko forces, charged the soldiers. The iron-clad fighters of the Empire surrendered, and at Jack's order handed over their weapons and shields. They ran off the past the Jilken and Tarrenko forces and up the valley wall, out of sight.

Jack grabbed an abandoned suit of armor and put it on. He didn't need to be recognized as Kip Renakalli, not now. As he pulled on the breastplate, Unt-Ork came running over.

"News," she said, breathing hard. "The other forces are doing well."

"They are fighting?" Jack asked, confused.

"Sort of," she replied, scratching her head. "Troops of soldiers are being ordered right at them, in near perfect sight-lines, and the girls are cleaning up! They're taking the men's armor and sending them packing. It's the strangest thing!"

It was indeed the strangest thing. That so many soldiers could march towards the well-camouflaged hiding places of the resistance fighters and be taken down so easily warranted some consideration, but Jack had no time for this. Ari was whistling at him, a warning sign.

"Ipshen!" she yelled, waving her binoculars. "Flags are flying at the palace! It's a charge! It's a charge!"

Jack nodded and grabbed his helmet. "Unt-Ork, order all regiments to prepare themselves. Company ready!" he yelled to everyone else.

Unt-Ork sent the message. The wait for a reply was tense, punctuated with armored resistance fighters clanking slightly and the schhhick of weapons being drawn. Finally, Unt-Ork caught Jack's eye and nodded.

"Tell them to march!"

Unt-Ork began to communicate this, just as Ari swept her up onto her back. She wasn't about to leave her little friend behind, or worse, lose her in the confusion. Jack turned to his fighters, their group now about 300 hundred strong. "Line up!" he hollered.

The women did as he asked and packed together, pulling the healers into the center of their group. Everyone drew weapons and kept their shields at the ready. Jack grabbed a new shield for himself, drew his Gunzai sword, and jumped up on a nearby rock. He could feel his heart speeding up, as it always did before battle. His beard flapped lightly in the night breeze.

He could see the soldiers coming now, swarming over a distance rise like a coming plague. He raised his sword, prepared to direct the charge, when the image assailed him, stopping him dead.

He stands on this very rock, dressed in this armor, with a long beard and helmet. He points with a sword, directing fighters. His eyes are shadowed and tired, but firm.

That was the picture the giant had shown him long ago, the grinning metal man with strange spectacles.

A little wisp of hope began to rise in Jack's chest. If that vision had been true, then the giant had not lied to him. Perhaps, he thought with a sudden start of joy, this attack would point his way home … assuming of course, that he survived it.

He sucked in a breath, lifted his sword high in the air, and let loose a deafening war cry. His legs pumped as he ran to the front of the regiment, slammed his face-cage down, and charged forward. The women behind him charged too, screaming like harpies and gearing up for what was sure to be a fierce battle.

His own yells were quickly drowned out by those of his fighters and they raced on, meeting the soldiers three hundred yards from the castle.

Swords met with scrapes and flashes of light. Warriors of all shapes and sizes shrieked and yelled and cursed and took swipes at each other. Jack was hard-pressed to defend himself while not killing those attacking him. Many of the Empire's soldiers were getting knocked out or incapacitated in other less elegant ways.

And then the arrows began to rain down.

"Beetle position!" Jack shouted.

Without preamble, the entire battalion closed ranks around the healers and hefted iron shields over their heads or in front of them. The effect was of a huge gleaming pill bug with many feet and the arrows, not being as sturdy as the shields, bounced off. Jack sighed in relief. He was pleased to have learned this technique from the Spartans.

Unfortunately, under all those shields was a rather frightened group of fighters. And even worse, two people were trying to take charge, yelling conflicting instructions. Someone, Ari perhaps, yelled "Company right!" just as another voice (Jack couldn't identify it) hollered "Company left!"

Just as Jack beaned one soldier with the handle of his sword and kicked another out of the way, his ragtag regiment tried to follow both instructions at once. Half went left, and the other half went right, effectively splitting the beetle down the middle, and leaving that middle – the blind healers – totally vulnerable.

Jack swore creatively and acted fast. He fought his way through the attacking forces and attempted to herd his now frightened regiment.

"Halt!" he shouted, hoping against hope that this wouldn't get much worse. "Left flank right! Right flank left! NOW!"

That was all he managed before another wave of soldiers came charging at them, redoubling the efforts of the first. His orders had no effect. Panic overtook the battalion. The "beetle" dissolved into individual warriors, terrified for their lives and randomly swinging their weapons, a heartbreaking one hundred yards from the castle.

It was instant bedlam.

Swords clashed. Fighters screamed. Dirt and mud flew in all directions. The ground grew slippery with blood.

Arrows started raining up at the castle. It meant the resistance archers under Joinu or Kleigo (Jack forgot which) had arrived. That at least stopped more arrows from raining down, but Jack knew this was only a temporary fix. Soon enough, the women would get annoyed or scared and start aiming to kill. And as they'd been training to hit targets from fifty paces in near total darkness, the odds of them ending some lives today were very good.

The opposing soldiers were yelling like bloodthirsty trolls, their eyes glowing so red and fierce that some of the women were actually backing away instead of fighting them, although Ari merely slammed the face-cage of her helmet down and hollered, "You Nakluks don't scare me! YAAAAH!" and charged right back at them, with Unt-Ork on her shoulders. The little alien was clinging to the cat-woman like a backpack, her eyes scrunched shut. A dozen brave souls charged after Ari, swinging their weapons and war-crying.

The healers were not faring nearly as well. Instead of following Sniggla and retreating to the edge of the battle, as was the original plan, they seemed to be stuck at a spot about ten yards to Jack's left. They had formed a tight circle around something, all of them facing outward, their faces stretched tight across their snarling mouths.

"A-ley a-ley a-LEY!" Sankra whooped, and her fellow healers answered the call as a show of solidarity, rattling their weapons and swiping at thin air.

It was obvious that they were defending themselves with whatever they'd found on the ground nearby. Their arsenal ranged from Sankra's spear to a breast plate that someone was holding up as a shield to a huge, bloodied broadsword that one tiny healer was struggling to lift. And anything that came within six feet of their little circle, friend or foe, was getting madly swiped at, accompanied by a chorus of screams and chanting.

Jack began to panic. The healers had no shields and less than five senses at their disposal. They were sitting ducks; their guide had mysteriously vanished. Where was Sniggla? Had she abandoned her charges and left the field? Ari had warned him against her, after all. Jack had no choice now but to lead them to safety and then rejoin the battle. But first, he had to reach them.

Six soldiers were closing in.

Jack picked up a long fighting stick and began to whirl it around expertly, keeping all six warriors out of striking range. With phenomenal speed he felled each warrior with a thrust or a kick, knocked them all on their rear ends and struck each a final blow that knocked them out.

Somehow, perhaps by scent, Sankra recognized him. "Hold!" she yelled at her band.

"Where is your guide?" Jack hollered at her over the raging battle.

Sankra just breathed heavily and pointed behind her in desperation. Jack looked. There, in the middle of their circle, was Sniggla. She was on her back and very still. Two arrows stuck out of her fat, melon-colored neck.

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going from bad to worse.

"You must get off the field!" he yelled.

In a surprising move, Sankra didn't nod. "Not yet!" she hollered back. "How are we doing?"

Since Sankra had never been in an army, Jack was not about to get into the ins and outs of insubordination, especially not in the thick of battle. He looked around, wondering what to say.

Their regiment, against all odds, seemed to be holding off the soldiers. They had lost no ground (they'd actually gained a bit – the regiment was now within 50 yards of the castle), but six long lines of men still guarded the nearest wall of the Gunzai palace, waiting for their chance to charge and probably overpower their forces. They were utterly motionless, waiting for their order.

He explained this to Sankra. And then she nodded, as though deciding something.

"Take my hand!" she yelled, and flung her hand out in front of her. It narrowly missed catching Jack in the chest. He took her hand, flummoxed.

Sankra gave a quick whistle, and soon the rest of the healers were joining hands too. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Remember when I said to use us only as your last resort?" she hollered.

"Yes?"

"Guess what – this is it! Help us line up so we're facing the men at the wall! Get us as close as you can without making them charge!"

Jack was slightly horrified. Whatever she was planning, it sounded big and possibly disastrous. But Sankra was insistent, and the battle was getting louder and worse. There was no choice. He went with it. A few seconds of herding later, and the healers were all facing the wall. A sudden BOOM behind them told Jack that the Jissa fighters were starting to use their hand-bombs. The air turned smoky. The screaming was picking up.

"Sankra!" he yelled, putting a hand on her shoulder. "You are in position!"

She nodded and yelled back, "Move behind us!"

"What are you doing?"

"Getting you over that wall!" she hollered over the sudden noise of a nearby skirmish.

Jack had no time to feel anything just then. He jumped behind her and drew his sword again to defend their rear flank. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ari whirling around in a circle of attacking soldiers, swiping at them with her broadsword and snarling. A few yards from her, a few artisans had made a smaller circle. Kiki was among them, madly swinging a blue glass knife and yelling incoherently in terror or anger … he couldn't tell which.

"On my count, ladies!" Sankra yelled. "One!"

All the healers, still holding hands, brought their arms up into the air.

"Two!"

They all brought their arms down to waist height and pulled back. Jack turned around and faced the castle. Time had slowed to a crawl. The air was tingling around him, full of ancient magic and intent.

"THREE!"

And the entire line of women pushed forward as though the air was made of molasses. Jack raised an eyebrow, but not for long. With a boom that shook the earth beneath his feet, his eyes went wide as everything in front of the healers (with the exception of the castle) got knocked flat. Resistance fighters and soldiers slammed into each other and fell over, bushes uprooted themselves, the ground made waves, and the lines of men in front of the castle wall went sprawling like they'd just been hit with a huge, invisible battering ram. The majority of them had been knocked out by the blow.

"RUN!" Sankra screamed.

Jack's heart broke even as he obeyed. Running on a heady mix of fear and adrenaline, he broke through the line of women, vaulted over groaning, splayed soldiers and sprinted clear up the castle wall. At the top, he paused to ready himself for the jump down into the courtyard below and had a moment of terrible vertigo. Something ached in his chest and his head spun; that was perhaps the last time he would see Sankra alive. He was leaving them all behind – brave fighters, good friends, and the dignified, courageous healers, who now had no one to protect them once those last lines of men got up and decided to charge.

There was screaming and the clash of weapons coming from every direction. The other regiments must have met their own troops of soldiers. It was suddenly hard to focus. A little voice in his head was complaining (loudly) that he would have, once upon a time, done this sort of thing alone.

He banished the thought and leapt silently to the ground. From where he stood, he surveyed the Gunzai castle – a brick monstrosity that looked like a cross between an ancient Egyptian stronghold and a Greek temple. It seemed to have two floors, and on the "upper deck," he supposed it was, archers were fighting, taking aim at their counterparts on the ground. Flocks of arrows were zipping over his head in both directions. Jack saw a long row of columns at the front, about fifty yards from where he crouched in the shadows. To his right, a long, straight marble path disappeared into the center of the columns, where it was met by a burst of bright light – the entrance.

Jack stood up straight against the wall and blended into the darkness as a few guards ran past to join the fight outside. His emotions and mind were settled, now. The only things he felt were cold focus and the weight of his own intentions, settling like a soft lump in his gut. He would be victorious against the Empress; he would free these people or die trying.

Tearing the Gunzai sword from his back, he settled his own sheathed weapon in its place and crept forward, dashing from yard column to yard column, keeping his eyes on his surroundings and his goal. There were no arrows coming at him, which he took for a good omen.

In seconds he was hiding on one side of the brightly lit entrance hall. The hallway was empty and blindingly bright; its walls and floor were made of solid gold. The air was tingling again with a different sort of magic, and he knew this might be a feint, a trap, but he would never get a better chance. Jack darted inside.

This was it.

TBC