The night march had begun without the moon to light the way, for although the silver orb had risen in the sky, a bank of clouds, unusual in Nospherus, had appeared to hide its cool radiance. For a time the soldiers walked as shadows in the desert. Then at last the changeable Moon Goddess Aeris in her hazy dress peeked from the clouds’ darkness to stripe the landscape with bands of pale glitter and wavering gloom. Stars became her little followers, serving also as guides to the watchful knights below. As the Mongauli advanced it seemed to them that the sky drew closer, leaning down as if it meant to fall on them; but despite the strange illusion it never came down to walk among their ranks. Sometimes a wind touched the soldiers’ faces, bringing without fail clumps of soft white angel hair to cling to them, but these strange visitations no longer surprised or alarmed the Mongauli troops, who knew the ghostly strands to be harmless, just one more of the bizarre phenomena that constantly reminded any traveler he was journeying in Nospherus. Again and again angel hair landed on men, horses, and their gear, only to melt away noiselessly, leaving no residue behind. The Mongauli paid little heed to these short-lived wind flowers, marching on indifferently as the weird Nospherus night drew down about them.
Astrias rode proudly at the head of the force, knowing that the entire army followed him towards the final battle. Although he had scarcely slept over the past few days, his face was bright and eager, and his eyes peered intently into the darkness; he was determined not to miss anything that might affect the success of the attack, any hint of what was to come—a tiny reflection of water from the oasis, the dim shadow of a sentry ahead. Leading the vanguard was the great chance of which he had always dreamed. Jarn had gifted him with this great opportunity to distinguish himself, and to gain the lady’s attention—maybe even her affection. Young officer though he was, Astrias cherished no hope of high promotion, nor did he fully expect to ride at Amnelis' side as consort, although she was two years younger than he—yet not because such ambitions were beyond his means. His father was a count from an old family who in his position as Lord Defender of Torus had gained the trust of Archduke Vlad. Astrias, as the first son, could look forward to succeeding to the peerage, and if he rendered sufficiently distinguished service in the army, he might very well be made General of the Left. His family background, good breeding, and age were all more than satisfactory. Should the archduke decide to solidify his foundation by finding a son-in-law within Mongaul for his daughter, rather than arranging a strategic marriage with some royal family, Astrias would be one of the candidates, along with Maltius, son of Marus—and, had he not fallen, Viscount Leegan.
Astrias tried not to base any hopes on such distant chances, however. It was not that he did not dream about it—he loved Amnelis, his first, unspoiled love, wholeheartedly, with an admiration that was akin to worship. And he recognized his feelings for her. But Astrias was a single-minded, honorable, and earnest youth, and he felt that pining for his lady’s love, or imagining a future as her husband, was not only impure, but also blasphemous. Yet no honor that he could receive would mean anything to him if he did not also gain the attention of the beautiful lady. For Astrias, a few words of praise from Amnelis—a smiling “good job” or “great achievement”—far outweighed any compliment or decoration any other could give; even a peerage granted for heroism would have no meaning for him unless it came with the lady’s approval. I want to be a perfect knight for Lady Amnelis. I would die to guard her life. That is the reason I was born, and nothing can turn me from that path. His young, indomitable passion burned with the purest form of love and drove him on to strive his utmost for the glory of her approval.
It must be through the good offices of Janos that my scouting squad was allowed to find the oasis of the Sem. Fueled by this passionate conviction, Astrias felt the impatience build within him as the army at his back plodded slowly through the desert on the unsteady, cloth-bound hooves of the horses. His knees clenched tighter against the sides of his charger, and he had to restrain himself from rushing on ahead.
Meanwhile, far behind the young captain of the red, the palanquins that bore Gajus and Gal Moru glided silently on either side of Amnelis, who rode deep in contemplation as if she were alone in the desert. Further back in the rearguard, Captain Irrim thought about his close friend Tangard’s pale, bloodied face, scarred by misfortune, and gritted his teeth, his hatred growing. Throughout the ranks warriors of every station found themselves beset by troubling thoughts and secret determinations as the shadows of Nospherus swirled around them.
The Mongauli army halted once during the night march, pausing for a brief break before reforming quickly to press on again.
Onward! Onward!
As they continued their advance, Aeris rode the sky above, slipping in and out of the scattered clouds as if she competed with those on the ground and urged them to keep moving on.
“Time, Gajus.”
“’Tis less than two twists of the hourglass until sunrise.”
“So soon?” Amnelis bit her lips, and then spoke as though spitting. “If the sun rises, we lose all that we have gained, and are right back where we started. Is the oasis so far away? Astrias said it was not far from our encampment. Surely we have come far! What…” She looked around as though seeking someone more dependable than Astrias, and then rose up in her stirrups, gazing into the predawn darkness ahead. And there, just at the edge of sight, the faintest of glimmers caught her eye—
“Ahh! Look!” a sudden, quiet hum of voices rippled back from the front ranks as the knights were stirred from their silence by excitement.
“That must be the Sem oasis!” Amnelis announced with satisfaction. “It looks to be a mere gallop ahead. Do you see it? Very well—Feldrik, relay the command! All troops are to cease the advance and prepare for maneuvers!”
“Yes, my lady.” Feldrik gestured for an orderly to relay Amnelis' order to his subordinates. A moment later, however, she stopped him short.
“No! Wait for a moment.” Suddenly, the lady-general’s face betrayed a new tension. She was gazing forward to where two red knights armored in bright crimson were making their way from the vanguard back through the ranks of the main force. They were two of Astrias' aides, and the Lady Amnelis' face hardened.
A little while earlier, at the fore of the vanguard, Viscount Astrias was nearly dancing for joy as he recognized the familiar features of the terrain.
“Excellent—we are nearly there!”
During his scouting squad’s journey back from the Sem oasis, he had overseen the placement of markers to guide the army’s return. Pollak had just retrieved the last of these, cheerily jumping down from his horse to seize it.
“This is it without doubt, captain!”
“Good. Gallop back to inform the Lady General. We will prepare our formation to attack immediately.” His voice lowered, Astrias leaned forward eagerly and gazed towards the great oasis where he was sure the forces of the Sem still lay in the oblivion of sleep. Yet as his keen eyes swept the scene his body suddenly grew tense.
“Any problem, sir?” his lieutenant Pollak, who had been watching his commander intently, asked in surprise.
“Yes—wait a moment. Something is amiss…” Astrias' voice was heavy with uncertainty. “There is movement among the Sem troops. There is a lot of activity going on! Don’t you think so, Pollak?”
“If you say so, I feel—”
“I wonder if they’ve noticed us.”
Astrias and Pollak looked at each other in the darkness. If the Sem had become aware of the approaching army, the Mongauli surprise attack would be a complete failure.
“Shall we send a scouting party?”
“Yes. But don’t use horses. Let them go on foot, and get as close as they can. And hurry!”
“Right away, sir!”
Hustle and bustle quickly spread among the vanguard as the rest of the army began to draw near. Darkness was fading, and the purple hint of sunrise was quickly replacing the black of true night. Swiftly the scouts crept toward their quarry; moments later one of them was already hurrying back to Astrias. With a coughing voice, he reported that there was a great commotion and hurry within the Sem camp.
“Probably they saw us coming, sir. But they seem to have lost their heads. They are running about in all directions within the oasis.”
“Hmm…” A look of vexation passed over Astrias' face, but he quickly came to a decision. “They are confused as they prepare for battle. That means they are not ready, yet, and are still vulnerable. Yes! Dispatch the men, Pollak!”
Immediately the lieutenant sent two red knights at a gallop back to the main force to inform the lady-general of the situation. They flew through the white knights like a gale, reined up sharply in front of Amnelis, and leapt from their saddles, barely pausing to bow.
As soon as she had heard their report Amnelis reached her decision.
“The entire army will launch an all-out assault!”
Swiftly the orders spread.
“An all-out assault!”
“Destroy the Sem completely!”
Fiercely a trumpet sounded. Not one among the thousands hesitated an instant as the army sprang into action. No longer were voices lowered or horses held back; the knights rose in their stirrups and lashed their mounts into a charge, spurring them mercilessly. Like a water snake swimming stealthily that suddenly breaks the surface to strike its prey, the army uncoiled in a furious charge, making the desert sands rise up like smoke with the fury of its passage.
“Mongaul! Mongaul!”
Before them, throughout the oasis, terrible confusion spread like a fire in dry grass.
Aieee! Aieee! Alphetto!
Amnelis brought down her baton.
“Kill the enemy to the last soul! Annihilate them!”
Her clear voice pierced the spreading chaos.