Harry had given Halraen warning of the Nacatori force as they approached, dismounting behind the ridge and advancing on foot. A long line, near two hundred men in their flowing, colourful robes, marched forward to the crest of the ridge, all armed with muskets and rifles. They were loosely strung out, ill disciplined to Halraen's discerning eye, yet they had the numbers and the heights.
"Too far for accurate shooting," Halraen observed as the Nacatori took up positions along the ridge. "Far too long."
Elraes nodded in agreement. "Not that that appears to be a concern for them." One by one the Nacatori began firing, clouds of smoke billowing from their lines. A shot whizzed close by Halraen's head with the distinctive whine that marked a rifle shot.
"That's disconcerting," Halraen noted dryly. "All down," he yelled. The men of the Queen's Own ducked down behind the makeshift stone and earth barricade. The volume of fire from above was continuous, the smoke from the gunpowder thickening into a solid bank. The shots from the muskets were falling hopelessly short, yet those from the rifles were kicking up puffs of dirt as they impacted the barricades and ground.
"Hold your fire," Halraen called out. "Rifles can fire, but muskets hold your fire. We can't hit them from here."
There were half a dozen rifles amongst the men, longer ranged, more accurate but slower to load. The rifles cracked as the soldiers aimed over the barricade, up towards the Nacatori, smoke billowing as they fired.
"Hal!" Halraen turned towards the cleft after hearing Halir call out. The professor was emerging from the cleft, his men prone on the ground seeking safety.
"We've got company, professor," Halraen called back.
"So I see, but we've found a door."
"Where does it lead?"
"Not sure yet," Halir told him. "We need to clear some more rubble before we can open it."
"How long?"
"Can't say for sure, but we will get on it right away."
"We'll keep them off you for as long as we can." Halraen turned his attention back to the Nacatori even as Halir organised his men to venture back into the cleft. A handful of the Nacatori had been hit by rifle fire, their bodies sprawled on the ground. The Nacatori were slowly advancing, walking a few metres before firing a volley and then walking again.
"Harry, where are the rest?"
Harry paused in the middle of reloading, gazing skywards for a moment. "Getting close. No more than five minutes away."
Halraen nodded thoughtfully. Halir would need more time. "Company, we will give them a volley. Rise!" The men stood up from behind the rough barricade. "Present!" Along the line muskets went up to shoulders, aiming towards the advancing Nacatori. A Maedari soldier cried out as he was hit, his musket falling from his grasp as he slumped forward over the barricade.
"Fire!" Muskets slammed into shoulders as the volley roared, smoke drifting up to obscure the view.
"Down!" Halraen called out again. The soldiers dropped back down, crouching behind cover as they began to reload, going through the familiar drill. Halraen ignored it even as he watched the Nacatori. They had baulked at the volley, even though only two of their number had fallen, no worse than Halraen had expected at that range. Proper soldiers would have kept going, yet the Nacatori were raiders, not used to the discipline needed to march towards enemy volleys.
He smiled grimly to himself. It would not delay them long, he knew. They would press on again in time, but each delay would give Halir more time to complete his work.
YOU ARE READING
The Tomb of the Tagosa Kings
FantasyIn the depths of arid country, the adventurer and historian Professor Halir and his escorts, men of the Queen’s Own Iskaeri Light Infantry, find themselves under attack by fierce Nacatori raiders as he seeks to unlock the secrets of a long lost tomb...