Amazonia - The Valley of Susa

Everything I had done, everything I’d suffered through and endured, led me to that place.

The border between Artaco and the Sasnayam province of Susa was the river Alvarez, wide and impassable, except for a few spots where a bridge stood, or where it was shallow enough for people to cross.

Like the Valley of Susa where I stood. In that place the river could be forded by fifty men walking abreast, if they wished, though the river bottom dropped sharply to either side beyond the ford. The Sasnayams had thoughtfully erected large, white stones as markers on both ends. A well worn, paved road ran up to the ford on either side, with a military outpost on the far side, surrounded by a small village.

An empty village, as the Sasnayam advance scouting party had already rounded up all the people and their livestock, and hustled them west, likely to serve the army now trampling their fields. The vanguard of their army, conscripted infantry in padded armor and carrying short spears along with large, light shields made of hardened woven reeds, had entered the water and were now wading towards the other shore.

On my side of the river, the grass was up to my waist, covering the bank and extending up the slope behind me. With the Runesword resting on my right shoulder, I ran my fingers along the waving stalks as I strolled along the flat stones paving the road, leisurely walking down to meet them. The air smelled clean, though the closer I got to the soldiers, who had reached my side and were beginning to assemble, the more I caught whiffs of old sweat off their armor.

On the opposite side, the vanguard resembled a troop of army ants, except these insects had officers on horseback yelling at their men, and occasionally whipping them as well, to keep the soldiers moving. None of the conscripts wore helms, just padded caps, and I could see a beardless young man’s face as he looked up the road and gasped. He yelled in their language and at once the leading edge halted. More of them were yelling now and trying to back away, and since I’d yet to call on the Shadow Knight, the reason for their panic walked behind me.

Inanna’s corpse followed in my footsteps as we continued walking towards them. She wore leather armor with steel riveted in overlapping plates, a great-helm on her head, and held a two-handed sword as long as I was in her hands. I stopped at the edge where the road widened to meet the river as the leading edge of the soldiers backed away until they reached the water.

Confusion reigned as those in the back pushed against the ones who’d stopped, the officers on horseback whipping their soldiers furiously until one officer pointed at me and yelled. On the edges, men were frantically trying to keep from being pushed out of the ford… there, several soldiers have slipped and are now falling downstream, screaming as the swift current carries them off. Good riddance.

Finally, a half-dozen officers in gold washed chainmail rode down from the far side, the sun winking off their armor as the lesser officers whipped a clear path for the golden ones. Their horses struggled across the river until reaching my side, and as they reined up, one of them yelled at me in their language. I yelled back, “Do any of you speak Greco-Roma?”

Beneath his gold washed helm, the officer who yelled gave me a withering look. “Of course you cannot speak in a civilized tongue. I have no idea what kind of mummery you are performing for the White Horde, but we have no patience with your tricks. Get that thing off the road so this army can cross.”

In response, I took the Runesword off my shoulder and planted it point down between two paving stones. “Khan Timur demands that you and your army surrender to him now. Otherwise, we will destroy you down to the last man.”

The Sasnayam officer gave me an incredulous look before turning to the others. began be translating as he motioned at me, and the others broke out in laughter. The officer made a gesture to the others as if saying, ‘Can you believe this madwoman?’, before turning back around in the saddle. “You and what army? Our scouts have reported that your barbarians have taken a defensive position in the hills not far from here, which considering we outnumber you, is sensible. I admit, it will take us some time to dig the barbarians out, but once the catapults are transported across the ford and reassembled, we shall make short work of them.”

A different officer called out something in a derogatory tone of voice, and the first said, “Hesam is right: since the Lord of Storms himself is with us, how can we possibly lose?”

I gave him a feral grin. “Shall I show you?” Before he could reply, the change began, and I screamed as it ripped through me. The horses reared and the gold washed officers struggled to hold them as my flesh contracted into cords… I can’t take this, it’s too much, it’s…

Ecstasy. I laughed, wild and free, as the symbols of the winged lions appear on the officers and those fools behind them. I had become my true self again. “Up, my brave warriors,” I called out in the language of the dead. “Rise up and kill.”

From the tall grass where they’d been hiding, several thousand of the dead got to their feet. The ones closest to me were the most degraded, wearing no armor and carrying wooden clubs, and following the orders they’d been given, lurched towards the river as the rest of the Shamblers assembled into ranks.

These were the ones I’d been saving for Timur. They were in far better condition, wearing the crude leather and scrap metal armor made for them over the winter, the weapons in their hands good enough to hold up for a time. They came together in groups of one hundred as the couple hundred or so degraded ones continued down the slope.

The horsemen with large lion wings turned their beasts around and fled, shouting at the ones watching in horror as my Shamblers left the grass and headed towards the ford. A horseman with a whip, whose mount was bracing itself against the current, whipped his soldiers into a line at the river's edge, their shields pressed together as the first of the degraded ones reached them.

They held their ground as the dead pressed against their shields made of woven reeds, beating on them with clubs as the infantry stabbed at my Shamblers with their spears. A few went down, their bodies too degraded to withstand the impact, but the rest pulled down the light shields with their bodies as the clubs rose and fell upon the screaming men.

Then most of the Sasnayam soldiers, on the bank and in the water, threw away both spears and shields as they turned around and fled. In their panic, they dragged their officers off their horses and tried to mount the beasts themselves as the degraded Shamblers killed anyone remaining on the bank. Then their legs splashed into the water as they slowly gave chase. The current was strong enough to slow the living enough for the dead to reach them, the Shamblers pulling men down while the ones on the deep edge of the ford downstream were being swept away. Their hands clawed at the water before their padded armor pulled them down.

Farther up the bank, the vanguard roiled, with the officers trying to whip the infantry back in line. But the ones who escaped the ford were running away in all directions, and a few of the those watching the degraded ones lurch through the ford were doing the same. Ha, one of the lesser officers is running away as well, screaming at the others as my Shamblers reach the opposite side of the river and start up the slope.

The vanguard began breaking. More and more soldiers threw away their shields and spears, and even the horsemen weren’t whipping their men anymore. They turned their horses around and galloped back the way they came. The soldiers were so close together they tripped over each other, screaming as the Shamblers reached them. Some of the dead had lost their clubs, so instead they lurched on top of the fallen men and held on to them fast, as filth stained teeth gnawed at any exposed skin they saw.

The vanguard broke completely with every soldier running away as fast as he could, littering the slope with their weapons and shields. The degraded Shamblers stumbled over the discarded gear and some fell, picking themselves back up a moment later as they followed the others slowly pursuing the fleeing soldiers up the valley’s slope. The commander of the army just beyond the ridge will likely get his troops back in order soon, and send the next force to secure the crossing. Time to execute the next step in our plan.

Inanna’s corpse moved to one side as I turned around and pointed with the Runesword at the closest group of Shamblers. “First company,” I said in the language of the dead, “form a line between that stone,” my sword pointing at the left edge of the ford, “and the other stone,” my sword swinging back to the one on the right. "Shieldwall formation, kill everything that tries to pass you, but don’t give chase. Hold the shieldwall as long as you can.”

The first group lurched past me and formed a line with their shields raised and their spears in their hands. The dead never got tired, and as long as the Shadow mana in their bodies held out, I knew they’d keep those shields up. As they got into position between the stones, I moved the other groups into position so they could reinforce, placing others on the banks just beyond the tall stones in case the Sasnayams tried swimming their horses around the ford to flank us.

As the companies of the dead slowly moved into position, the sound of hoofbeats coming from the opposite side reached my ears and I turned around. Cavalry soldiers were riding over the top of the ridge and down into the valley. They weren’t the elite Timur spoke of when he briefed my other, more pitiful self, and the other leaders, because their armor was hardened leather with rings of steel attached, and the same covering their horses. The first ones over the top held maces in their hands.

The degraded Shamblers moved to intercept, but these horsemen knew their business, for they attacked individuals, smashing skulls and riding the Shamblers down. The riders continued coming over the ridge, with at least a couple hundred going after the Shamblers. They quickly grew bolder, going after clusters of dead… there, a horse’s going down and the dead are swarming in. The soldier’s screaming as hands claw at him, but other riders are surrounding the group. They must have learned destroying the head was the key, for they concentrated on cracking skulls with their maces, ignoring the shoulders or arms.

As they made short work of the degraded ones, a rider with larger lion wings than the others barked out an order, and fifty or so broke off the attack and accompanied him to the river’s edge. As the rest of the cavalry mopped up the remaining Shamblers, he barked out another order and the ones with him reached behind and pulled out bows.

I smiled as the troop walked their horses a small ways into the ford. Water swirled around the animal’s knees as the riders put arrows to their bows and fired. A hiss as the arrows flew, then the familiar thud as they lodged into shields or found gaps between them, a few of the armored dead stumbling from the impact as several fell.

Then they lurched to their feet and rejoined the shieldwall. Shock on the soldier’s faces as the leader barked orders at his men again, and the riders fired into the Shamblers as fast as they could. The front line began resembling an archery target, with Shamblers falling, then getting back to their feet. The remaining degraded ones were down, some still twitching, and the rest of the troop rode down to the water as the fifty riders stopped shooting.

The leader barked another order, and the fifty turned their horses around and rode back to join the others as the leader moved his horse into the ford. I frowned. What’s he doing? He reached the spot where his riders had been, looked up towards the spot where I stood with Inanna, and yelled something as he gestured in front of him. I think he wants single combat in the ford.

Even if Timur hadn’t warned my pitiful self not to do anything heroic, I would never do anything that stupid... but would he? “First company, make an opening for the human and let him ride through without attacking him.” As the Shamblers in the center moved to form a passage with their shields, I said to Inanna, “If he’s foolish enough to take the bait, smash him when he tries to ride me down.” Inanna took the huge sword in both hands as the leader stared at the opening.

Then he turned his mount around. Pity. “First company, reform to shieldwall formation.” As they did, the leader turned back around as he pulled out a bow larger than the others, nocked an arrow, and fired.

It sped over the heads of the Shamblers, and as the leader turned his horse back towards his men again and moved away, I watched as it struck Inanna's forehead and bounced off. Then my eyes narrowed as I noticed something I hadn’t before.

Around Inanna’s throat was a collar bearing the stick figure woman symbol of the priestess Akbal.