A Warrior's Legacy Read Free Page B

father’s men
and the resulting destruction of more of their proud cities.
    The same tactic that they had used against
the Attorgrons my father’s men and allies used against them.
Zoarinian towns burned and crops were not harvested. It was the
Zoarinians who were slowly being weakened and brought to their
knees.
    My father had sent several contingents of
our best warriors to aid the Attorgrons in their efforts to repel
the vicious raids of our common enemy. He had placed me in charge
of the Attorgron resistance, while Larc commanded the northern
action.
    It had been a brutal six months since I had
last seen my homeland, but I yearned to see it again with passion.
My sense of duty held me firmly to my post though.
    The raids were growing fewer and I hoped
that soon they would quit altogether. The Zoarinians were losing
far too many troops for their raiding tactic to be an effective one
anymore. And if the Creator was with us, today would be no
different.
    The Attorgrons were masters of disguise and
they had taught me and my men everything of their skill. I knew my
men and our allies were all around me, but spotting them was an
endeavor.
    The enemy party grew closer and soon they
were passing beneath us. They moved quietly for fear of alerting us
to their presence in the forest. Of the last three raids only one
raiding party had returned home and it had been down below half its
original number and strength.
    The size of this party was considerably
larger than in the past. If we destroyed them they may not send
another and then it would be the Attorgrons turn to raid their
weakened neighbors and repay them for their brutality.
    My best estimate of the enemy force moving
quietly below us put it at two thousand men with perhaps four
hundred horsemen. I had three hundred of my own men and seven
hundred Attorgron allies. Better than 2 to 1 odds against us.
    Nothing new about those odds. I saw my
target and slowly I rose up my arm holding my bow and drew back the
arrow it held already strung.
    For all viewable purposes my actions
appeared as if a branch of the tree was being ruffled by a strong
breeze so complete was the disguise of green and brown paints and
the twigs and leaves adhered to my body. As I moved the whole
canopy of the surrounding forest rippled, as if caught by the same
sudden unpredicted breeze.
    I sighted down the arrow and let my breath
out slowly as I took aim and with the release of my fingers on the
end of the arrow shaft I unleashed a fierce unseen hell upon the
helpless troops beneath us. Before the garishly dressed field
commander had fallen to the ground from off his horse by my well
aimed arrow a thousand more arrows had found their mark.
    Screams of pain and shouts of war rang out
from beneath us. Steadily I yanked each arrow free from where I had
staked them and after methodically taking aim I let them on their
course of death.
    It was a bloodbath beneath the canopy of the
forest. We had worked hard to set up this ambush leaving
misinformation for the enemies’ informants. We had made an
all-night march through the forest; one scouts life had been lost
giving the enemy misinformation instead of the truth as he was
tortured to death. This was payback for what happened to him and
others like him.
    No quarter had been given by the enemy in
this war and none was being given back in return. A few scattered
survivors managed to escape the scene fleeing back the way they had
come. We let them go intentionally so that the bad news would reach
their peers.
    The forest floor beneath us was strewn with
the bodies of the enemy. No doubt some of them were still alive
playing dead hoping to survive till nightfall, when they too could
escape or at least try to.
    The Attorgrons had too much pent-up hatred
though to allow that leniency. They came down out of the trees and
began to systematically make sure that everyone was dead and at the
same time they collected weapons and loot.
    I had no stomach for such actions