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    Rhadamantys Glaucon (101 posts)
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    Moonlight Assault
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    Author: * Rhadamantys Glaucon - 33 Posts on this thread out of 266 Posts sitewide.
    Date: Oct 12, 2005 - 05:45

    Previous Section : Fenugreek Insights


    Moonlight Assault

    The crescent of the waning moon rose at about midnight. The moon had just entered her fourth house and still gave enough of her pale light for the army of 200 men to quietly start their climb. Only by the help of guides totally familiar with every twist on the path, they were able to follow the treacherous route along the steep cliffs of the Koromplia mountain, staying close to each other, each man following in the footsteps of the soldier ahead.

    They reached the saddle of the mountain well before the crack of dawn and saw in the distance the dim flare of several fireplaces, showing them the way to the Kurgan camp. Calling this a town was slightly exaggerated, but several solid wooden huts were clearly to be seen.

    The men from Zakton carried the usual weapons. Most arrowheads were made of obsidian like they had been in use since ancient times, because bronze was expensive, and if you knew how to chip off a sharp split of the right shape, it was stronger and a better weapon than one made of copper, because pure copper was weak and twisted easily. They had strong slings and pockets full of pigeon-egg sized pebbles - an effective weapon in the hands of a well trained fighter. Then they carried clubs, with a stone of the size of a fist firmly attached on its end. For those who knew how to handle it, even a leather helmet was not a real obstacle: they crushed the enemy's skull right through the helmet.

    When the first signs of dawn lightened the eastern sky, and the moon was still helping out, the army was ready to hit. A few sentries dozed at the fire site and were silenced immediately. Then the doors of the huts were set on fire by shattering clay flasks full of oil, followed by burning arrows. When the Kurgan discomposedly fled their burning buildings, few of them had time to grab their weapons, and then they were greeted by pebbles, arrows and clubs.

    In all of this, Areus was not really involved. Unfamiliar with the place, the auxiliary troops were scheduled to march in the back end of the single file of men, and so they arrived at the place of events, when most huts were ablaze and hardly any defender was moving.

    "Why did I join this venture in the first place?" Areus asked himself. He roamed through the burning camp, hoping to get an opportunity to accomplish at least a small feat, to participate in the glory of the others. Then he heard someone shouting from within one of the burning huts. He tried to open the door but found it barred from the outside, and only after he tore off the lock bar, he was able to push it open. In the black smoke, crouched in a corner, he saw a human figure. He grabbed it, pulled it out of the hut and only then found out that it was a she: coughing, blackened face, wildly disheveled long black hair, clad in tatters, and shivering all over.

    Not until this moment Areus became aware of the danger he had brought himself into, by saving without cover a possibly hostile member of the Kurgan. He pulled out his dagger, pointed it at the woman and yelled: "Who are you? What's your name". Momentarily he realized the silliness of his behavior, because the woman would not understand his language. To his amazement she replied: "Who are you? Have you come to kill me? Have mercy and do it quickly!"

    The men from Zakton gathered outside the smoldering camp and took stock. Victory was complete. Almost complete. An unspecified number of the enemy had cowardly run away. Some had even managed to mount their horses. In doing so, however, they had loosened the herd, so the horses all ran away, before the men from Zakton could stop them. This was a real pity, but otherwise the success was fantastic. Hardly any own losses, only three dead and about two dozen injured, the enemy camp a charred heap of ash, lots of very good bronze weapons gained, helmets and shields made of thick leather. And the prisoner.

    "We were not to make any prisoners. Kill the woman, let's grab the prey and go home", some requested. Sthenelos, however, who had fought in the first line during the attack, stood up to his full length and shouted: "She speaks our language. She is not one of them. Leave her alive. Amynander shall decide what happens to her. Areus has found her. He should bring her to Amynander." - While he said this, waving about with his thin and long arms, he looked somewhat ridiculous. Nonetheless it was done as he said. Loaded with the captured weapons, leading their wounded and carrying their dead, the army marched along the winding trail across the mountain down to Zakton. Areus led the woman, her hands bound to her back. She was very weak and several times he had to give her support, else she would have fallen from the steep and narrow path.


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