Chapter Forty

There was nothing to be done now but wait for an attack, or midnight, whichever came first. A huge billowing cloud full of ice and snow slowly blew in to block the sun and shadow fell across the pass. In the hours that followed, the enemy milled about, forming a semi-circle around the hillock and occasionally taking a shot at the men. But the cover that the boulders provided was good and few bullets found a mark. Two men were shot, but neither were wounded badly. After several hours of waiting, a small group of riders approached. Light snow fell around them as they rode up towards the group on the outcrop. Dryden recognized the riders. Kal’kuris, the so-called emissary, and Jaqu, the so-called Fyrin observer, and a handful of others. Their horses stopped not far from the outcropping, just within shouting distance.

“Who commands?” Kal’kuris’ voice rang out.

Gorst was still alive. He had not worsened much from before, but neither was he improving. He was fading slowly, bit by bit. He still had his faculties but was in no condition to shout. He gestured to Dryden, “Speak for me.”

“Colonel Gorst still commands here,” Dryden shouted down.

“Is that you, Dryden? Why does he not speak for himself?” Kal’kuris shouted back.

“He is wounded.”

Jaqu shouted up next, “Tell him I am sorry for that! Give him my compliments on the assault up the pass! Never in my life have I seen a feat such as that! Impossible is what I would have called it before today! To take those heights with only a thousand infantry! Remarkable! It should have taken ten thousand! It is only too bad that his men broke at the last!”

Pugh snorted and whispered to Dryden, “Does he know that flattery is seen as a weakness in Vastrum?”

Kal’kuris spoke before Dryden could think of any worthy reply, “Surrender, Dryden. I know you Vastrum men are stubborn! I know you will fight to the last man! Please, for the sake of your survivors!”

“They will kill our men either way.” Pugh whispered again, “Maybe they’ll keep us few officers for ransom, but they will certainly kill the rest.”

Dryden nodded, then shouted back, “I cannot trust your word on that!”

“You can!” The emissary shouted, frustrated, “Your women have not been harmed! I have told you they would be safe, and I am a man of my word!” He insisted.

“How can I trust your king, then?” Dryden shouted down, “He who lured us out of Vurun with false promises, only to build this wall and set all these traps for us?”

“Your officers that we have captured, they still live!” He shouted up.

“Do they? Does Havor still live? Belfair? What of Blackwater?” Dryden shouted down.

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“Blackwater did not live. He was an old man, and frail!”

“You ambushed them under a banner of truce! You were there, Kal’kuris, and you too Jaqu! You were both there and said nothing! Your king says one thing and does another. He is a liar.”

“That is blasphemy!” Kal’kuris shouted!

“Yet it is true! I judge him only by his actions! Let us leave or come up here and kill us if you can!” Dryden shouted down.

“You are as stubborn as Colonel Hood!” Kal’kuris replied, “Fine. You want death? Have it!” He turned his horse and rode off again, followed closely by Jaqu and their guards.

He shouted something to one of their cavalry commanders and the Vuruni cavalry began to form up. Snow was falling more heavily by the time the Vuruni cavalry came at them. All the muskets were loaded. No soldier had more than a few shots remaining to them, but their bayonets were still sharp. Dryden loaded his pistol.

“Dryden.” Gorst croaked.

“Sir?”

“Take my sword. I am not for this fight.” He unstrapped the sword belt from his waist and handed the whole thing up to Dryden. The sword was a fine weapon. Dryden took it by its hilt and pulled it partway out of its scabbard. Inscribed on it were some flowing runes in the old script of Styrania. He was not well learned in that tongue, but he thought it translated to something like “Honour In All Things.” He slid it back securely, then strapped it to his waist.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Thank me by living. Thank me by coming back here and fulfilling that bloody oath of yours. Thank me by killing those bastards and by rescuing my Julia.” Then the Colonel swooned and lay back again. “Don’t let them take me alive, Dryden. Don’t let them take me…” Then he coughed up more bloody froth. He still breathed raggedly.

“Take my pistol, sir,” Dryden said, and he handed the pistol to Colonel Gorst.

“Thank you, lad.”

Then the enemy came once more amidst the snow and wind. Their horses were covered in a hoar frost and their armor dusted with snow. They came wheeling about in a large circle, shooting at the knoll as they came. Men hunkered down in the cover and did not fire, waiting for them to approach. Finally, when this wheeling and shooting had proven ineffective, the horsemen dismounted and began to come up on foot. When they were close, Dryden shouted to fire and a volley of muskets discharged in a great thundering crash. Enemies died and the survivors fell back. Muskets were reloaded and they waited again. When the Vuruni warriors came close, the small group of Vastrum men fired again. The enemy would not come a third time. They backed off again and waited. Slowly but surely more soldiers came up and over the pass.

“Why don’t they come?” Locke said, frustrated, “Let’s get this bloody over with.”

“They’re waiting for more men to climb the pass so they can overwhelm us,” Pugh answered grimly.

“That’s only one of their clans, what’s left of them. More clans will come. I expect they’re still dealing with Colonel Hood down at Golconda. These men are here to keep us penned in like sheep.”

Pugh sighed, “Dryden, I know the plan was for you to leave at midnight, but I think it is better if you go soon. The longer we wait, the better the chance that the whole host comes up from Golconda. If that happens, there will be no getting out.”

“But if we go now, we go without the cover of night.”

They could not see over the ridge of the pass. The knoll was just on the side of the pass that led down and away towards Andaban. They could not see Golconda or the eastern approach from where they held.

“You there, private.” Dryden pointed to a stout young Marrowick man who was barely more than a boy. Can you sneak down and look just over the ridge? Tell me if the enemy is coming or if Golconda still holds.”

There were no guards back the way they had come. Most of them were well out of musket range and looking to prevent fleeing soldiers from running down the long slope towards the road to Andaban. The young man got down on hands and knees and crept quickly and quietly towards the ridge line. He looked over and his face blanched. He quickly scurried back.

“They’re coming, sir. Golconda has fallen. The whole army is coming.”

Dryden stood and looked back to his few remaining men, “Ready the horses. Burn midnight, we ride now.”