Heroes of the Fallen Page 23

  “Nephites?” asked Almek.

  “No, they are well-armed Ishmaelites of Tullan,” answered the scout.

  Akish-Antum grinned. He signaled a halt and bade everyone rest for a moment under the hot sun. Soon the army of horsemen and marchers became visible from the distant hills, black shapes wavering in the red heat plumes of the white-hot desert, walking mirages with glittering spears and golden shields. These were tall, lean men, copper-skinned of a slightly different shade than the men of Mutula. They wore a greater amount of armor, bracers, and greaves of hammered embossed copper. They also wore copper and leather head plates with cotton bandanas to shield them from the merciless sun. Their loins were draped in bright green and black kilts sharp daggers at their sides and long spears in their hands.

  Akish-Antum smiled as they approached, he spoke to Teth-Senkhet, his second in command, who led this army. “How went your journey? You are a little later than I had hoped.”

  “We had a small sandstorm to deal with a week ago in the high desert, but we are here now and ready for your orders,” said Teth-Senkhet, who even in the heat wore a black cloak with gold trim.

  Prince Almek frowned at them. “Who are these men who intrude while my army waits and sweats under the sun?”

  “Patience, my prince, these are our welcome allies, the warriors of Tullan. Who is their field commander?”

  “He is the tall one there. Anathoth,” said Teth-Senkhet, pointing to the lead horseman who now dismounted to approach Akish-Antum.

  The man’s sharp face was outlined by his Egyptian style headdress. He wore the same greaves and bracers as his men. “Hail Akish-Antum, Grand Master of the Northern Gadiantons,” he said, his arm upraised in the Lamanite fashion of greeting.

  “Grand Master of the North, how amusing,” said Akish-Antum under his breath.

  “King Apophis of Tullan is not yet agreeable to renouncing his claim. His men will obey us and yet still not acknowledge our divine right,” said Teth-Senkhet.

  “Very well but let us keep the armies separate. I want no fraternization that could jeopardize our plans,” the Gadianton Grand Master whispered to his second. “Hail Anathoth, General of Tullan, servant of Rabannah Apophis,” he shouted to the Tultecs.

  Prince Almek glowered at the Gadianton.

  Zelph stood near to Almek, as was his charge at this time. He sized up this Anathoth and his black stallion with a fine steel bow and full quiver and judged him a capable warrior. He also had a broad scimitar slung across his back in a fancy decorated scabbard. He sent his spear into the ground before him as he approached the prince and the Gadiantons.

  Akish-Antum dismounted his chariot and clasped hands with the general. “We are unified, are we not?”

  “We are,” said General Anathoth.

  The Gadianton stood head and shoulders taller than the warrior, but the Tultec did not seem the least bit intimidated by him. Akish-Antum then began to speak in a tongue that neither Almek nor Zelph could understand. Anathoth answered him in kind, and Almek was all the more infuriated by not understanding the interchange.

  “This is not right. I should be privy to all matters of this war. What are they saying?” he shouted.

  “They are agreeing on who commands the army of Tullan,” said Teth-Senkhet. “It’s simply a formality of transferring authority from Apophis to Akish-Antum. It’s their way.”

  “What are you talking about?” Almek shouted at Akish-Antum.

  “Patience my prince, I am negotiating the order of the army.”

  “That should be my place. It is my army.”

  “Don’t you mean your father’s army? I will tell you what I have done, I am placing Anathoth and his men in the front.”

  “In place of my honor?” whined Almek.

  “No, they are better armed than your force and they have more experience as well. Anything that happens, they will be the first hit. You will be safer back here. Fear not, you have not lost your command by any means. All is the same as it ever was. Now we simply have a bigger army in front,” Akish-Antum explained.

  Almek frowned but did not reply.

  “You still command your own army, Prince, but I will command the army of Tullan since you don’t speak Tultec. Agreed?” said the Gadianton Grand Master.

  Almek scowled darkly and cried out, “Let us move on then, and get some wind in our faces instead of this accursed sun.”

  The Gadianton nodded and waved Anathoth on, who rode his horse hard ahead at the lead of his twenty-five thousand men.

  Zelph, close to Almek, was surprised as the prince motioned him to board his chariot and stand next to him, bidding the driver to get off. Zelph stood beside him, expecting to be pushed backward for the cruel prince’s childish amusement.

  Instead Almek said, “Zelph, you have traveled more than I and received good battlefield counsel from your father. What do you know of Tullan? Is it true what Akish-Antum says, that our armies cannot beat theirs in a fair fight?”

  The big man was suspicious. Was the prince baiting him only to torment him further? “Do you really seek my counsel on these things?” asked Zelph.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “They are hardy fighters who use a disciplined method of fighting learned from Zoramites. It is based upon old Mulekite techniques. As far as I know, on an open battlefield, they could best us. However, in the forests and jungles we could split them up and break their vaunted phalanx techniques.”

  “Why do we not go out and destroy them, instead of leaving them between us and the Nephites?” said Prince Almek, whipping the reins on his chariot horses.

  “I am sure that is part of the Gadiantons’ plan. It is in their best interest to have us fighting Nephites rather than each other. There is no profit for them when we fight each other, and I don’t believe they want that. That they even organized a joint coalition between us denotes their intent,” said Zelph.

  “Yea, I seem to remember my father and Balam-Ek saying something of this a while ago, but the wine, the dancing girls… I was not paying attention when I should have. I now realize in this grave hour, the time I have wasted. I am not ready for war. It is good you are here. I can use your true counsel as opposed to Akish-Antum’s dark designs. It is good my father has your father and I have you.” He looked away a moment. “Forgive me Zelph, for my cruelty to you. When I conquer Zarahemla, you will be richly rewarded.”

  “Thank you, my prince.” It will not happen. I will not be there. Great Spirit, remember me, show me what I must do to avoid this war, this bloodshed. Great Spirit remember me.

  That night they made camp after crossing a slow-running, mud brown river. Akish-Antum always had the army sleep in shifts. A full quarter of the men were awake and ready for battle. The Gadianton would not take any chances. He warned the men against being spooked by lights or shouting that could come from out in the darkness. Tales had already been told of possible Nephite tricks, and he would not have his plans thwarted.

  Akish-Antum told them that they were now within the Nephite lands and to expect the worst if captured and taken prisoner. Lamanites offered their war prisoners as a sacrifice and appeasement to the gods, a quick and honorable death. Nephites, however, tortured their prisoners for years before slowly burning them alive or feeding them piece by piece to dogs. Such an end would not allow a true warrior entry into the hall of the gods, but would make him a slave for all eternity, an administering servant to the Nephites in their own paradisaical glory. Or so Akish-Antum told them while on the march. A few Gadiantons would laugh at these tales as they circulated the camp, swearing they were all true.

  All through the night, Akish-Antum received reports from runners and spies about the route ahead. No one ever saw him sleep.

  Zelph thought of him as the shadow on the light of the world.

  The Coward’s Bravery

  For three weeks Amaron and his men stalked through the back roads and trails far west of Zarahemla. They ventured as far as the edge of the ruins of Am
monihah, the Desolation of Nehor. Beyond these were the plains of Heshlon and the wilderness of Hermounts.

  Ezra said he was reasonably sure that the Lamanite attack would take place further south of Ammonihah.

  “Let us go south and loop back to Zarahemla in a wide, easy, half-moon maneuver overland. If we find nothing in the next couple weeks, you can all be released since it is almost summer. I will not keep you any longer beyond this journey,” said Amaron.

  All agreed to this except Reuben, Ezra’s uncle. “I want to kill Gadiantons,” he bellowed.

  “Easy, uncle. He who lives by the sword shall die by the sword,” said Ezra.

  “It’s better than on your knees like my son was forced to. I will have my righteous revenge by heaven’s throne!” Spit flew from his mouth as he talked.

  Ezra grimaced and begged, “Don’t say that.”

  “I will say it. We Nephites have a God-given duty to slay the enemies of God, like Lamanites, Gadiantons, Lemuelites, Ishmaelites, and Nubians.”

  “That’s enough, Reuben. Shut your mouth,” said Amaron. “Let us keep our discipline and politics separate. Now, we cut through that swamp yonder, ascend the hills, and make camp for the night.”

  “Why not go the way we came? It will be easier, and we can make those hills in half the time,” said Ezra, rubbing his sore legs.

  “A scout learns never to take the same trail twice, to avoid ambush. By always taking a different route, we confound the enemy at every turn,” Amaron explained. “With an undesirable trail, we can better avoid detection and trouble.”

  “The Gadiantons will have scouts of their own, and I believe the route will be here in our own territory. I don’t wish to die confronting them, eah,” said Ezra, serious with fear.

  “No one does.”

  “I admit I’m a coward who wants redemption. I have sinned many times.”

  “Everyone has.”

  “I never prayed until Onandagus had me pray with him, you know, to begin my repentance process.”

  “And?” responded Amaron. “Get to the point.”

  “I pray constantly in my heart now, always in my heart for what I fear will happen to me on that last day.” Ezra stared off into space.

  Amaron put his hand on Ezra’s shoulder and looked him square in the eye. “You can’t live in fear, nor should you do what’s right out of fear. Do your best with us. You desire to learn much and that counts for a lot, even if you are city folk,” he smirked.

  “Thanks.”

  They snaked their way through the murky green waters that went from ankle deep to their chests. Amaron kept them together and free of the many serpents. On the other side, several hours later, they stopped to remove ticks and leeches.

  They ascended the hills and hiked along a small creek as night fell. They found a spot where in times past the creek had washed out a good-sized cavity in the rock but now stayed just abreast of the ledge. It had a clean little overhang to keep them warm and dry.

  “This will shield us from the rain that I think may come in the night,” said Amaron. “Let’s get a small smokeless fire going to dry our clothes and boots. If we put it under the rock-face no one will be able to see it.”

  The tall thick trees blocked out the night sky. The slivers of the moon stabbed through here and there giving its cold light and striping the forest floor. Ezra stared at the fire for a moment then looked out into the impenetrable night. Judah rigged up a rack of sticks to dry their boots and socks.

  The men ate a light meal of venison from a deer they had killed a couple of days before and chewed on corn cakes that Reuben prepared on a small skillet. He burnt them a little, but everyone wanted something besides two-day old dried venison so didn’t complain about the burnt cakes.

  “Daniel and I will have the first watch,” said Amaron, munching a corn cake.

  “Could I be on first watch?” said Ezra.

  “I don’t care... Daniel?” said Amaron.

  Daniel nodded as crumbs rolled down his chin.

  “Let the fire die down to coals, and each watch will maintain the fire throughout the night just enough to relight if necessary,” said Amaron finishing his cakes.

  “Why let it die? We have kept it going all night thus far,” asked Benjamin.

  “I have a strange feeling. Something is telling me that it is close. We must be careful from here on out. Good scouts could come down this gully and spot even our sheltered fire.”

  The last flames began to flicker and disappear in the dying coals, until a warm orange and gray glow remained.

  “Ezra, you and I will keep watch, eyes wide in the dark,” said Amaron. They walked a short distance into the darkness as the others stretched out on their bedrolls.

  “Something else troubles you, what is it?” asked Ezra.

  He asks questions like a woman sometimes. It is a strange feeling to hate someone and yet feel indebted to them, to pity them while growing tired of them. I must grow beyond my anger, it is all in God’s hands. Things often do not happen how we wish them to. I cannot put my trust in any arm of flesh, not even my own, only the Lord. Everything is his will not mine, not mine.

  “Amaron?”

  “What? Oh, I am sorry, just thinking. Yea, I am troubled, things are not like when we were younger. My friends have changed. This mission is not what I planned at all. I do not like the attitude of the men. I wish things were as they used to be, but that time is gone. It exists only in memories and dust.”

  “I am sorry for the part I have played in your troubles. I never wanted Helam to die,” said Ezra.

  “I know, you have said that many times and it is my own fault for being a vengeful man. There is nothing that can be done to change anything now. I must move beyond my weakness.”

  “I know we’re supposed to be on watch, but can we talk a little while longer?”

  “Yea, go ahead. The others are making enough noise for the Lamanites down in Tullan to hear.”

  “What have you done to atone for your wrongs?”

  “I have never done anything to speak of. I do not drink wine nor smoke the tobacco. I have lain with no woman and told no lie. These things are the root of my arrogance, I suppose. I know it and am working on it. Pride comes before the fall, or so I have been told.”

  “What can I do to atone?” asked Ezra.

  “I am not the man to discuss this with. I was baptized and made a member of the Church of Christ at age eight. I am the eldest of my father’s sons and have always done my duty and scorned those who did not. Perhaps you should ask these questions of the chief judge.”

  “He said I should speak to you of such things.”

  “Does he mock me?” said Amaron, his ire being raised for a moment. “No, I suppose it is to make me think. When we teach others, it helps to make things clear in our own minds.”

  “My life was never good. I never knew my father.”

  “I am no fortunate son,” said Amaron.

  “In some ways you had better opportunities than me. I learned on the streets to take what I needed whenever I could, whatever I wanted with no thought of consequence. It is how many are taught now. There is no responsibility. You are lucky you had the family you do.”

  “It is not luck, I do not believe in luck. It was meant from before the beginning,” snapped Amaron.

  “What do you mean by that?” said Ezra

  “In the beginning, the Father in heaven asked his greatest sons how the earth should be. The eldest son said we should have freedom to choose. It is how we could best learn and progress. The other said we should all be forced to do what is right, that we might all return to heaven after having been on the earth. I am not good at this. I am no missionary,” said Amaron.

  “No, please go on, for it rings true to me.”

  “There was a war. In it, there were spirits on both sides along with those who chose to wait and see which side would prevail. They all fought one another. They did battle in ways I cannot describe.”


  “I have never thought much on these things. I would like to learn more.”

  “Tomorrow. We need be silent now and keep watch. I am surprised at myself for telling you any of that. It is not the kind of topic I usually speak of.”

  They sat a moment longer in the dark until Amaron was sick of listening to Ezra’s erratic breathing. “You take a position over by those rocks and keep an eye out, especially to the east. I will go by that fallen log and watch our west and north.”

  Ezra nodded and went to the rocks. The others were settled for the night and most were asleep, tired from the long, wet hike earlier that day. Gradually the threatening clouds moved out, and the bright moon shone through the trees.

  The wind blew down the gully and a deer moved swift and silent a hundred yards to Amaron’s right. He watched and wondered at what made it move so quickly and with so much fear. Something must be out there. Wiping a sweaty hand on his buckskin trousers, he hefted the hickory handle of his war hammer. It felt good in his hands. He would not draw his sword until necessary. The moon might glint too much off its razor-sharp edge.

  Some moments passed, and still he heard nothing, although he thought he saw a big shadow making its way down the gully. Always the shadow seemed to stay in thick darkness, was it there? It moved with grace and agility in an easy zigzag manner, almost hypnotizing. He began to think it was a trick of moonlight through the trees, then the wind changed, and the shadow stopped dead.

  A low, deep growl escaped its muzzle and it bounded behind a huge boulder with one terrific leap. Amaron caught sight of a great tan leg in the moonlight. Turning toward Ezra, who was near to dozing, he warned, “Hsssst!”

  Ezra yawned at him and mouthed silently, “What?”

  “Lion.”

  “Here?” he gasped and craned his neck at the maw of surrounding darkness.

  Inching toward Ezra and the camp, Amaron watched the boulders. “Yea, a lion. Big one, too. There are plenty of ravenous beasts near the wilderness of Hermounts.”

  “Where’s it now?” asked Ezra.

  “Behind those rocks. Make your way back to camp and wake the men. It knows we are here, but it may leave. They do not normally like to fight men if they can avoid it.”