Rise of the Golden Cobra by Henry Aubin

Author:Henry Aubin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUV016020, JUV016010
ISBN: 9781554513246
Publisher: Annick Press
Published: 2010-09-24T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

THE TEMPTATION

Before Tefnakht could lower his fist, Purem gave his own signal. The soldier next to him beat a daluka, banging out a code to the waiting infantry. Instantly, dozens of other dalukas, one per infantry unit, picked up the beat. The broad pasture resounded with aggressive rhythm.

With a shout, the men in the first and last rows jogged away from their phalanxes and formed a two-row semicircle that faced the Mesh 150 paces away. Archers made up the second of these curved rows. They drew their bowstrings, as the spearmen in the first row lifted their shields to protect the archers and themselves. Nebi shook his head in wonderment at the tactic’s precision. Those endless marching sessions during the trip hadn’t been so pointless after all.

The daluka stopped—another signal. The simultaneous twanging of more than a thousand Kushite bowstrings, together with the whirring of scores of slings, sounded almost like a low drumbeat. Even before the Kushite projectiles could land, the Mesh bugle sounded and the air was dark with enemy arrows.

Moments later, the ranks on both sides became thinner. From where Nebi stood, so far away, the arrows’ effect looked so calm and matter-of-fact. He could only guess at the pain and death inside the phalanx. He felt ill at ease being so close to where men he had traveled with were dying, and yet being safe himself. Although the knoll was within range of composite arrows, its white tents gave it immunity.

“We’ve got the advantage now,” the colonel exclaimed. “Look, their arrows come from one direction, while ours come from right, left, and center.” Sure enough, the Kushites’ semicircle made defense against their barrage difficult. As soon as a Mesh soldier raised his shield against arrows coming from one direction, he was open to arrows from another.

“Look how much faster our archers reload,” said Ameye, pointing. “We’ve trained them to inhale just once between shots.” His proud tone told Nebi he had something to do with that training.

“With composite bows too, sir?” asked Sheb, his eyes glued to the fearsome double-curved weapons.

“Two breaths in that case,” conceded Ameye. “Those bows take more effort to draw.”

Nebi glanced quickly over his shoulder. The other bargemen-turned-stretcher-bearers were watching apprehensively, mouths open.

“You stretcher-bearers will all start work when the real fighting begins,” Ameye called to them. “It won’t be much longer.”

Nebi touched the white bands on his arms and helmet yet again to make sure they were secure. Sheb nudged him. In a low voice, so that the colonel could not hear, he said, “Sometime during the battle, I’ll drive the chariot near Nimlot. With our insignia, no one will think we mean him harm. You can get him when he’s not expecting it.”

“What do you mean, ‘get him’?” Nebi whispered back.

“I’ve taught you how to use a sword.”

“We’re medical workers!”

“We’ll rip off our insignia at the last moment.”

Nebi turned away from Sheb and leaned forward to watch the battle.

The Kushite drum erupted again, and soldiers in the semicircle jogged back to their places in the phalanxes.

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