The Chronicles: Notomol Ch. 04

Notomol, though, could see that our advantage could not last. He needed archers atop the cliffs. Once the last of the non-combatants were safe, he started sending archers up the ropes. Yadha was the first of these.

It was all cut just a little too close. We still had six men on the ground when the Izumyrians reached the end of the path. They weren't foolish enough to rush at us individually, but once a number of them had gathered together, they charged.

Every archer atop the cliffs fired, to give our last men cover. Three men reached the top of the ropes - I was one of them. Eager hands grabbed me, and literally hauled me to safety.

The last three of our men began to climb: two of Nelime's fighters, and Olari, one of her four archers.

Olari climbed like a squirrel. One of his friends, though, was not so lucky. His hands slipped, and he was suddenly struggling. The Izumyrians reached the foot of the cliffs, and one of the more daring seized the bottom of the rope. Another enemy did the same nearby to a second rope.

They shook the ropes with all their might.

Olari scrambled to safety. In truth, I don't believe that he would have made it without Dusca grabbing his arm and pulling him up the last few feet.

But the remaining two men were not so fortunate. They lost their hold on the ropes, and fell heavily to the ground. The Izumyrians were immediately upon them, stabbing and slashing. We fired into the crowd, and found some rich targets, but there was no saving our fallen friends.

The three ropes were pulled up, or cast loose. The Izumyrians slaked their fury on the two men they'd caught - and then retreated, leaving six of their own dead or dying at the foot of the cliffs.

Notomol now left the Bar group to its task. Yadha Snakehand, the brothers Cinna and Cirola, with Ermanar, Dusca, the three locals, and two of Nelime's fighters, would hold the cliffs. They had Motekin and the non-combatants to support them. Their job was simple: keep the Izumyrians from climbing out of the bog.

He then led the rest of us on a run along the outer edge of the bog, until we reached the point where the single, secret path exited the Deadman's Bog. Here he left Senderra and Evane.

- "They shouldn't be able to find it." said Notomol. "But if they do, it could change everything. If it's one man ... you have to kill him. Then you have to hide his body. But if it's more than one - no heroics, Sen. Run. Bring us the news. You understand?"

Senderra wanted to make a cutting remark. Goodness knows how many times he'd repeated these instructions. I'd heard them four times, myself. But Notomol's sister understood the pressure he was under.

- "We know what to do. Go. Go!"

We ran another league, until we were back at the entrance to the bog. And there we found the members of our most important group: the Plug.

Doreg and Dubek were there, with the last two of their friends. Vidrik was there, too, with six of his companions. Most important, Orsho was present, with 14 of Nelime's fighters.

- "They left a rearguard." said Orsho. "Six men. We killed two, but the rest retreated into the bog."

- "Is that all of them?" asked Notomol.

- "The Baron rode his horse down the slope. They're all there."

Notomol took a deep breath, and exhaled. His plan was possible, now.

- "The hard part is yet to come." he said.

- "We'll hold." said Orsho.

I wish that I could tell you what happened in the Deadman's bog, that day. Or that I could describe, firsthand, what it was like at the base of the cliff. From what I learned afterwards, I can only tell you that the Izumyrians tried to climb out of the far end of the bog.

They wanted to find a practicable route. But to climb a near-vertical, rocky cliff - while being harassed by archers - is no easy task. One Izumyrian almost reached the top, but Dusca smashed her enormous spear into his chest, and sent him plummeting to the ground.

I was back at the plug, where twenty-five of our best warriors blocked the only real exit from the bog. The little slope was narrow - only six men could stand abreast. By the time the Izumyrians finally realized that it was their only way out, they were already in trouble.

It was growing dark. They had to attack uphill. And the first line of men they had to face included Orsho, Doreg, Dubek, and Vidrik.

I didn't care for Vidrik at all - so you can trust me when I say that he fought like a lion. Dubek ... Dubek was a force of nature. I found myself wondering what might have happened at the ferry, if he hadn't been swept away by the rushing waters of the Grey River.

Orsho was a rock. Unyielding. Immovable.

Doreg fought well, but eventually had to give way, wounded in the shoulder. The men at the ends of our line were Orsho's companions, and they were exceptional.

I know that we had the advantage. The Izumyrians were tired, and confused. They'd suffered losses, for no apparent gain. They had to attack uphill, against men the likes of Orsho and Dubek. And all the while, Notomol and the rest of the archers fired arrows at them, whenever they left themselves exposed.

We didn't worry about saving arrows. If we won, we could recover quite a few shafts. If we lost ... well, that didn't bear thinking about.

The clash of shields, of swords and axes, was more than daunting - it was terrifying.

We had the slope. We also had a collection of peerless warriors in our front rank. And to add to our advantages, we had archers.

I don't know that we made much of a difference, at first. Our initial volley resulted in a single wound. Our second volley was no better. Our third cause a pair of wounds, neither of them debilitating.

But the Izumyrian soldiers were obviously aware of our presence. The men on the end of their line held their shields at an angle, protecting themselves from our arrows. I believe that the distraction we provided helped our front-line fighters.

Orsho felled a man. Dubek wounded another. Doreg was wounded. He managed to pull back, and one of Nelime's fighters stepped into his place. One of the Izumyrians tried to press into the momentary gap: Dubek killed him.

Vidrik wounded a man. Dubek wounded another. Two of the Izumyrians tried to confuse Orsho, by striking simultaneously, high and low. Dubek killed one of them, with a shrewd thrust to the groin, but Orsho was cut on the leg.

With a cheer, the Izumyrians sent another dozen men into the attack.

I'm not quite sure what happened: perhaps they were too busy cheering, and not keeping their shields high enough. We fired a volley of arrows, and three of them fell.

Our front-line fighters were not at all distracted - but perhaps their opponents were. Two more Izumyrians fell, and a third lost most of the fingers on one hand.

The enemy pulled back.

In a matter of moments, they'd lost six killed and four wounded. On our side, Orsho was wounded (but he still held the centre of our line), and Doreg had been forced to pull back. We still had 15 fresh men who had yet to be engaged.

They came again. This time, though, it didn't seem to be their best men leading the attack. One fell to our arrows. Orsho killed another. One of ours was wounded. He stepped back, and Vidrik's friend Adser replaced him, joining the front line.

We archers continued to fire arrows, if only to inhibit the Izumyrians. One soldier fell, with an arrow in his eye. Vidrik killed another Izumyrian, and so did one of Nelime's fighters.

At this stage, the Izumyrians had lost between a quarter and a third of their men. But they had only inflicted a handful of casualties on us - and only two of those were fatal. Their confidence was shaken.

They were also beginning to suspect that they'd been led into this morass on purpose. The enemy pulled back, out of effective range.

They'd had no success against the Plug - but they'd also failed against the Bar. Their morale was rapidly sinking into the swamp.

So was the remaining light of day.

The Izumyrians pulled back from the slope, deeper into the bog. They left half a dozen men to keep an eye on us for as long as they could. Within an hour, though, the very last light had disappeared. We would soon be in complete darkness. The light of the moon and the stars didn't penetrate through the forest canopy.

We retreated thirty yards or so, after leaving a few traps and minor obstacles at the foot of the slope, to give us a warning if the enemy tried to surprise us in the dark. But I suspected that they were far more frightened than we were.

As grim as it was, the Bog was at least slightly familiar to us - and we'd begun to think of it as our ally in this fight. But to the Izumyrians, it must have felt like a treacherous death-trap. They also knew that they were surrounded by an unknown number of enemies. In such a situation, imagination becomes your enemy, too.

- "I don't believe it." said Doreg.

Dubek rubbed his eyes, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The Izumyrians were lighting fires.

It was enough of a wonder that they'd found dry wood to burn. But how could they be so foolish? The light of their fires showed us exactly where they were. There was quite a bit of smoke, but the soldiers and their shadows were sometimes clearly visible. They were also effectively destroying their own night-vision.

The Izumyrians couldn't camp in the middle of the bog. They'd decided to settle down on the driest, safest ground - which just so happened to be the patch of land closest to us.

There were many ideas, on our side, of how to take advantage of this gift. Vidrik suggested sneaking in a few men with long knives. Dubek favoured and all-out attack. But Notomol refused to risk any of us at close-quarters in the darkness.

He chose me (for my accuracy, I think), and Aunam (partly for his skills, and partly because of his desire for vengeance). We flanked Notomol, and the three of us descended into the bog. The other archers each passed us a couple of arrows.

All I had to do was copy Notomol's movement. When he moved forward in a crouch, I followed his example. When he stood, I stood. And when he nocked an arrow, I did the same.

It was frightening to be there, in that deadly bog, so close to dozens of Izumyrians who would tear us to shreds if they caught us. I had to remind myself that they couldn't see us. They had no idea whatsoever that we were there.

Notomol took us ridiculously close. We fired three arrows, and two enemies were hit. One of them screamed, which must have terrified his companions. All three of us had struck our targets, I think, but once again, two of us had shot at the same man.

I was completely in awe of Notomol's calm and self-control. My heart was beating so hard, I could hear (and feel) the drumming in my ears. But he coolly selected another arrow, and fired again.

We hit two more soldiers. I heard the arrows strike home.

Then Notomol sank into a crouch, turned, and moved away. There was no hurry. He led us to the next fire, and watched.

The Izumyrians here were agitated. They'd heard a scream - and now there was shouting from the fire where we'd struck. These fellows were standing up, wondering what was going on. We couldn't have asked for better targets.

Two more soldiers fell. This time, Notomol didn't take a second shot. Instead, he led us away again - to a third fire, where men were already shouting. Some held spears. We shot again. I'm quite certain that I missed, but at least one enemy fell.

Notomol led us out of the bog.

I had the feeling that we could've stayed, and done more damage. But I was still hale and whole. We'd hurt them, and taken no loss ourselves. It was difficult to argue with that kind of exchange. Even Aunam seemed temporarily satisfied.

Someone in authority on the Izumyrian side must have finally come to their senses: the fires went out.

***

I napped, for a short time, until Olari (one of Nelime's archers) came to wake me.

It was still absolutely dark, but I could sense others moving about. Notomol gathered the archers, and explained what he wanted. He then spoke briefly to Orsho, who nodded.

Then Notomol slipped off into the darkness, with a grinning Dubek, and two of Nelime's men. Our task was to watch for them - well, to listen, really - and to interfere with any pursuit.

The Izumyrians had doused their fires, but there were still a few wisps of smoke, and a glowing coal here and there.

I heard a high, gurgling shriek - swiftly cut off. There was pandemonium across the front of the bog, as our enemies woke and scrambled for their weapons.

I remembered Notomol's very first assessment of the professional soldiers we'd encountered: they would band together, and see to their defence. A reckless counter-charge in the dark simply wasn't in their nature.

All four of ours returned. Dubek held up one hand, showing me all five fingers. Then he raised his other hand, to show me one more finger.

***

We passed a largely sleepless night. But how much worse was it for the Izumyrians?

Once the dawn light began to filter through the canopy, we could see them - and they did look bedraggled. But the officers gathered them together, lined them up, and proceeded to organize another attack on the Plug.

It was the only exit at this end of the bog. If they wanted to get out of this trap, they had to come through us.

They tried. They were frustrated, angry, and desperate.

Their first rush must have been completely disheartening: Orsho, Dubek and Vidrik all killed the first men they faced.

But the weight of numbers pressed on our line. One of Nelime's men went down, with a spear in his thigh. A friend of Vidrik tried to step into the gap, but was killed almost instantly.

There was no heroic response on our side. The struggling warriors were too closely engaged for our archers to risk a shot. Orsho and Dubek were fully occupied, and Vidrik was fighting for his life, with his flank exposed. But Doreg encouraged our second and third-line fighters, and they plugged the gap.

The Izumyrians struggled mightily to open it again, but they couldn't. Two more of them went down. We archers did our best to support them: at least one soldier was killed, and two more wounded.

They pulled back to re-group.

On they came again. This time, though, they lacked fire. There was no determination to push through; they seemed to expect to be repelled yet again. And they were.

One of Nelime's fighters was killed, but the Izumyrians left four more dead on the slope, and our archers were incredibly effective: four more enemy soldiers were killed outright.

They retreated.

It was instructive to watch the surviving officers bully their remaining men back into formation. By the light of day, we could see the bodies of the fallen: there had to be more than thirty. The Izumyrians could clearly see them, too. They were discouraged, dispirited and sullen. Yet they still shuffled into position as their officers harangued them.

Then they moved deeper into the bog.

- "They're going to try the cliffs." I said.

Notomol agreed. He left Orsho in charge of the Plug, and called on Aunam and me. Just to be sure, he brought two of Nelime's fighters with us.

We circled the bog at top speed. Notomol stopped in to check on his sister and Evane.

They were still there - and completely bored.

- "There will be other fights, Sen." said Notomol. "You'll get your fill. And more."

- "Can you at least tell us what's been going on?"

He did better than that. Notomol left Aunam and one other man to watch this hidden exit, with instructions to run and warn Orsho at the first sign of trouble. With Senderra and Evane now in tow, we headed for the cliffs.

It was a truly desperate endeavour, but the Izumyrians tried to climb out of the bog. Most of our archers were here, but virtually all of our best fighters were on the far side of the bog.

The Izumyrians began to scale the cliffs. The men behind them hurled their spears at our defenders. That proved exceedingly dangerous for our unarmoured, unshielded people. Ermanar went down with a spear in his chest. One of Nelime's men was also hit; he slipped, and toppled from the top of the heights.

Notomol had said that there were only three places where the cliff could be scaled. The Izumyrians found five. Dusca defended one by herself. The non-combatants pitched in bravely; two of them were struck by spears. Motekin dropped a large rock on the head of a climbing soldier.

Our archers did their best. Notomol killed a man, and I heard Senderra whoop. But it was touch and go, for a moment, until Notomol dropped his bow, drew his long knife, and stepped into the fray.

We kept firing arrows - I only had two left. We didn't often kill, but the number of wounded Izumyrians steadily increased. They finally began to understand that they weren't going to prevail, and withdrew.

I found myself standing next to Notomol, who was gasping for breath.

- "Where is he?" he panted.

- "Who?"

- "The Baron."

It was a good point. We hadn't seen him directing the attack on the Plug, and he hadn't been anywhere near the cliffs, either.

- "Unless he changed into the gear of a regular soldier." said Cinna.

- "Why would he do that?"

- "Dunno. So that we wouldn't target him?"

- "He could just stay back, out of range." I said.

We remained on our guard, but the Izumyrians didn't attack the cliffs again. Nor did they mount another assault on the Plug. Notomol grew worried about the secret exit, and sent four men to reinforce Aunam.

We rested, and waited. And then the light faded again.

***

A group of Izumyrians tried to sneak up the slope in the dark. They tripped on our traps, and then panicked. Some might have run back into the bog, but a few tried to get past us. None of them succeeded.

In the morning, Notomol sent a group of fighters to watch the cliffs, and to recall the archers who were still there. He went in person to check on Aunam again.

Just past midday, we ventured down into the bog.

***

Journal Entry #33, Winter, 937

The final scouring of the Deadman's Bog was anti-climactic. We were prepared for a stiff fight against the last desperate hold-outs of the Izumyrian force.

Instead, we came upon small clusters of hopeless, utterly dejected refugees. Only a few put up any kind of a fight. Many - a surprising number - were already wounded, and too weak to offer serious resistance.

We took no prisoners.

I did not participate directly in the killing, but I could understand why Cynna and Cyrola would. Aunam, and many of Lady Nelime's people likewise. I did not share their thirst for vengeance, even though I remembered Dusova - and the fact that it was hardly the only atrocity committed by the invaders.

But I did agree with Notomol's plan, and his decision to give no quarter. Baron Harke's force would not be simply defeated: it would vanish, without a trace. There would be no survivors limping back to Izumyrian-controlled steadings, to tell the tale of the disaster that had befallen their comrades.

Their fate would become a mystery. It would prey on the minds of the Izumyrian soldiery. How could just over 100 men simply disappear, without a trace?

Only we who were there would ever know the answer: it was the Deadman's Bog - as if the land itself had risen up to fight against the invaders.

In a way, that was true. When our men went down into the bog, they expected to have to fight between 30 and 40 soldiers.

Instead, they found barely 25 demoralized men, many of whom were wounded.

They found no trace of Baron Harke - nor of his horse. They also counted only 88 bodies of dead Izumyrian soldiers. Where were the remainder?