Novel, Chapter 7.4

Tolcten's first arrow flew a very high, slow arc. It passed above the canopy level in a small clear space, then turned about so the point came down first. It was an old custom, the first arrow of a battle was not for any target, but an offering to Tupovinaz, the hammer. The immortal of war. In the most ancient legends of the goblins, the immortals were beings of pure magic which walked the earth. They could take the form of a dragon or a man. Had the immortals not steadfastly denied the existence of such a thing as gods, they surely would have been worshiped as such. Instead, they were merely paid the respect deserving of the ideals they embodied. Or something like that. To Tolcten the philosophies were mostly just words. This arrow might have been an offering to the aspect of warfare, but it also served a more direct purpose.

The point struck the damp dirt with a noise somewhere between thunk and squish. One soldier watched it dumbly. Then the trees around the clearing were suddenly alive with arrows. Eth's men were far from prepared for this. Some had their armor slung over their backs. Others wore it, but still had shields slung. They had kept some marching sentries, but Tolcten and Ukan were both quite effective with a knife. Half the dozen or so soldiers were down in the first volley, and the rest fell before they organized any sort of resistance. That left the slaves who were serving as beasts of burden. The Kliet didn't much care to slaughtering them, but taking them captive wasn't exactly an option either. One fool made things easier by pulling the shield and sword off one of the soldiers. Tolcten had to fight back an unbidden memory of Crejuht when the fellow went down. The rest of the slaves had dropped their burdens. Some cowered where they were, and the rest fled down the trail. A couple of the fleeing received arrows in their hindquarters, but Tolcten had no intention of chasing them.

He signaled for the carry group to come forward. These were also Kliet, but they had left their bows behind so they could carry stuff. Tolcten when up to the slaves, and spoke loudly with lots of gestures to tell them to run away. Northern wasn't a completely different language from Southern, but they were fairly widely divergent. The slaves had very little trouble understanding, however. Most took off toward the west – away from both the Kliet and Eth's main camp. Within a few minutes the carry group had selected everything they would use and destroyed everything they couldn't. The Kliet stole away without a single loss.


That evening, Tolcten and Nasch recounted their adventures with the other group leaders. Tolcten had his feet up on a stump as he relaxed in a sling chair clearly destined for a much higher ranking officer. “This is how a war should be,” he said. “What kind of fool is Eth to send an army full of presents on invasion?”

The rhetorical question brought a chorus of laughter from just about everyone. Nasch wasn't laughing, though. “It's not foolishness. The king of six clans and ruler of, what, twenty two now? He's no fool.”

“Oh? What is it, then? They find an orc village in Meiness and pillage it?”
It was all in good humor, and the other group leaders took to Tolcten's ribbing. They all knew about Nasch's little speech about the ghosts of Meiness – the Kliet celebrated them just three days prior. And Nasch didn't feel insulted by the flippance, but he didn't like seeing all the officers get sloppy.

“Are you really such a fool to think Eth's brining you gifts?”
Tolcten snorted. Nasch never could really enjoy a party.
“This isn't a war like ours, Tolcten.”

Of course, this wasn't the right comment to get the officers thinking seriously. “No! We take plunder away from the enemy!”

“How far is Vacumar from here? How far is is Tehmar? Today I saw a a bunch of half-dwarves hauling goods for Eth. They must have been captured clear on the other side of the empire. We couldn't march there in a year! And yet they're done here, hauling salt pork for the invader. What do you think an empire like that wants with Fuspmar? The plunder they can carry off home?

Nasch was getting to them. Another of the Kliet's group leaders spoke up. “Nasch is right, you know. We're not doing enough to stop them. And it's nearly impossible to get a warband to chase us now. This general from Putnmar [yes, the Kliet have some intelligence on Eth's men] bunch is keeping the leash tight...”

Nasch knew where he was going. “We can't take their army out. Not yet, even with the combined army. But that's not the Kliet's job.” Now he found himself addressing all the lower officers, “We're just bleeding 'em. So enjoy your captured wines, but don't let it blur your heads tomorrow. Today we're the thorn bush in the tiger's side, but someday the tiger will get tired of our picking. Then we'll see something of it most of you have never seen.”
Tolcten watched him go. That man really knew how to spoil a good mood.

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