Timothy lay concealed in a forward position under an old leaf with Lieutenants Cilantro and Blueleaf, watching the enemy begin their workday at a harvesting area on the north side of West River. Enemy workers were climbing the grasses, harvesting seeds while others waited below to collect the fallen grain and move it to collection points. Porters from the colony would take it from there when enough grain had piled up.
It was almost time to attack. Timothy's forces had been in position since dawn, when wisps of ground fog still drifted between the weeds. Cilantro had urged him to attack as soon as the enemy showed up, but Timothy wanted to wait until the workers had settled in and started their harvesting routine. To make the raid worthwhile they had to allow enough time for the enemy to harvest enough grain at the southeast harvesting site, where Colonel Watershome's main attack would happen.
The enemy ants worked steadily, but Timothy observed they were not as industrious as their East River counterparts. They took many breaks and often lounged about when their supervisors or the few escorting soldiers weren't paying attention. Still, he was surprised at the large quantities of food seen already lying at the collection points when he had arrived. West River had so much food they could leave it lying about overnight.
Cilantro, the big lieutenant, was itching to begin the attack and would not remain still, so Timothy sent him back to check on the positions of their ants and get them ready. Cilantro had been cool to him during the march to West River. Watershome had promoted Timothy over Cilantro, and it grated on the big ant who had been in the service longer and was a proven field officer. He knew Cilantro was annoyed with him for not attacking right away, but Timothy would give the Westies a little more time. He wanted them relaxed and unsuspecting when his ants struck.
Timothy allowed himself to relax for a few minutes, watching one particular pretty worker. She was toiling on the ground, carrying fallen seeds to the collection points. Something about her reminded him of the princess, though she had no wings. Last night, while the other officers talked on after Watershome's story, Timothy had fallen asleep thinking of the princess. He wondered how many others in the troup did the same, dreaming of her or her sister. He recalled the warm sunny days when they had played together as children, before he took up soldiering. She was sweet and loved to sit with him and listen to his stories, even if he did make most of them up. Thinking back, he was uncertain if he become a soldier because it was the right thing to do, or because he wanted to impress the princess. In the end it had taken him away from her, a possibility which had not occured to him when he enlisted. Timothy remembered her last words to him before he had set off from the colony yesterday with the others. He wished he was back in the colony now.
"Sir, look," Blueleaf said and pointed toward the center of the harvesting area. Timothy saw the West River soldiers had gathered there to relax and gamble while the others worked. The sun was well up, and there were piles of food at the collection points.
Timothy nodded. "Yes, it's time," he said, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. "Send the runner to inform the Colonel we're starting the attack, then you and Cilantro form up your ants."
Blueleaf took off, leaving Timothy alone to contemplate his first action as a captain. He prayed that it would go smoothly, that not too many would be hurt on either side, and that he wouldn't screw-up. The attack here was a diversion planned by Watershome-- Captain Hightunnel's ants would carry out the real raid. Timothy's job was to make West River think his was the real raid and draw their army out towards him. The timing of his attack was critical. He must linger long enough to convince West River his attack was serious, but if he stayed too long his force of just over fifty ants risked being wiped out by West River's response.
Timothy left his vantage point to rejoin his command. The land sloped down from the harvesting area into dense thickets of short grasses. His forces were arrayed below the slope and out of sight in a curved line facing in towards the harvest area and West River itself. The density of the grasses prevented him from seeing most of his troups, but he knew they were there.
"Sir, the runner's away with your message," Lieutenant Blueleaf reported.
"My ants are waiting Captain," Cilantro told his captain. Cilantro was ready to get the attack underway, and thought Timothy Flintspur's inexperience and reluctance to fight the reason for the delay. He was anxious to jump in and expected to take over the battle the moment things got rough and the captain proved inept. He thought Blueleaf would support him if pressed.
Timothy took his position between the two units of ants; Cilantro's ants were to his left, Blueleaf's to his right. His aide, young Dash Harvestwatcher, stood beside him with his shell-horn. "Stay close to me, all right?" Dash nodded, afraid but steady. Timothy raised his spear, looked to either side down both lines, then brought the spear forward to point ahead to the enemy. The lines began to advance up the slope. When they crested the top and the harvest area came in view, he told Dash to sound the charge.
When the horn's call bellowed out, chaos broke lose in the harvesting camp. The East River ants charged into the harvest area, aiming first toward the cluster of soldiers with spears leveled. The dozen West River soldiers, occupied with their game, barely had time to grab their weapons before fifty screaming ants descended upon them. Four fought and had to be subdued, but the rest simply surrendered. The workers in the grasses above the harvest area were trapped and captured, while those on the ground either fled or surrendered. When it was over, no one was hurt except two of the four stubborn soldiers, and their injuries were not life-threatening. The pretty ant who had reminded Timothy of his princess had fled into a thicket of wildflowers.
Blueleaf ran up to him. "Sir! Begging to report, sir. We've taken forty prisoners sir, including twelve fighters." Cilantro came up and grunted. "I wouldn't call them fighters." He had personally knocked down two of the four who had resisted.
"Sir, we've got chamber-loads of food!" Blueleaf continued. "It's lyin' everywhere sir. Big black juicy berries, and these here yellow seeds. We shoulda made this the main raid!"
Timothy looked about the site. He saw that the Westie soldiers had all been disarmed and had their hands bound. They sat grumbling in a group guarded by a detachment of stout ants from Cilantro's group. The workers cowered in scattered groups, most of them afraid and some clinging to each other. Timothy noticed the food Blueleaf indicated. In truth there was even more then he had previously believed, as several collection points weren't visible from his hiding place. It was a rich harvest ground. He wondered if Captain Hightunnel's team would find as much fare to take home.
"Can we take it back with us sir?"
Timothy shook his head. "You know we can't, Blueleaf. It would slow us down too much."
"Seems a shame, sir. We could sure use some of this back home. What'll we do with it all?"
That was the real question. They couldn't take it with them-- West River would be responding as soon as news of the attack reached the colony and a sufficient force could be mustered; they wouldn't escape burdened with berries and seeds. It was Timothy's job to draw West River forces out and away from the colony, not gather food.
Timothy studied the narrow bug path leading toward West River. The path led up another slope into a region of thick grasses and flowering weeds. It was eroded like a gulley and its sides were steep where it opened out onto the harvest area. Timothy thought a moment. Before they split forces, Watershome had impressed on him the importance of this raid. "The Council plays it down, but we're badly short on food, and the situation is getting worse. I think you know it. We need to make this one count, that's why we're taking so many ants this time. I don't care what you do, but keep the Westies occupied as long as possible. Understand?" Timothy did, but now that he was here, he wasn't sure how to do it. On most raids where a diversion was used, the diverting force tried to lead the Westies on a wild chase, but Timothy had observed that the Westies weren't stupid and seldom followed far. A fleeing force wasn't going to hold their interest long. Sometimes the diversion force moved on to another harvesting area, but the scouts had reported none close to this large one. Only one other option occured to Timothy as he studied the bug path. Timothy made a decision.
"Blueleaf, take charge of the area. Move the captives down the slope and out of sight, then have your ants start destroying the food."
"Captain, destroying all this is gonna take some time, there's a lot of food here."
"Blueleaf's right," Cilantro said. "The Westies will be coming soon. We've got the diversion started, it's time to pull out and lead them away."
"We're not going to lead them away," Timothy said.
Cilantro blinked. "What?"
"Lieutenant, I'd like you to pile up a line of rocks in front of the path to the colony, and prepare to form up your ants behind it. It's the only easy way into this site, and they're bound to come from that way. We'll bottle them up there."
"You want to stay and fight?" Was the captain crazy?
"Yes."
Cilantro stared. "They're likely to come with seventy or eighty ants. We've got fifty, and all these prisoners to guard."
"Yes, but if we hold them here at the path's exit, only twenty or so can face us at once, and we'll have the advantage of the rock breastworks," Timothy said. "We'll keep a minimal guard on the captives. The rest of Blueleaf's ants we'll post up in the weeds above the path. When you engage their lead ants, we'll have Blueleaf attack them with spears and rocks from above."
Cilantro swallowed and seemed hesitant. Blueleaf stood uncertainly. It seemed a bold plan to him. Despite all the tales, East River seldom engaged West River forces on this side of the river.
Timothy continued. He had to sell this to Cilantro. Blueleaf would follow orders, but he needed Cilantro to believe in the plan. Cilantro was amazingly productive when he believed in something, but lazy if he didn't. "Look, all we want to do is drive them off. We never stand and fight, so they won't be expecting it and we'll have the advantage of surprise. If we can do this, there'll be a lot of confusion and they'll take twice as long to form a larger force. That'll give the Colonel more time, and it'll give us enough time to justify carrying off some of this food like Blueleaf wants. All we want to do is run them off for a bit..
Cilantro nodded as he studied the path as a soldier. It might work. Maybe the captain wasn't crazy. They'd have to hurry though. "All right. I'm on it."
Timothy nodded. "Send an ant up the path to give some warning when they're coming. I'll send you some of Blueleaf's ants to help as soon as possible." Timothy walked off. Cilantro stared after him for a moment, then began issuing orders.
While Cilantro's ants worked on their defenses, some of Blueleaf's troopers were detached to round up the captives and send them down the slope into the weeds. The remainder began smashing berries and pulling seeds apart to scatter them or stomp the pieces into the earth. When Timothy was satisfied with Cilantro's grasp of the path defenses, he went to check Blueleaf's progress with the food destruction. The lieutenant's expression was grim as Timothy approached. "My family are mostly harvesters sir."
"Maybe we'll take some home after all." Timothy said. "Leave the food for now. I want you to send one of your corporals and his ants to help Cilantro fortify the bug path."
"Yes sir."
As the lietenant ran off, another ant ran up to Timothy. "Sir! We found a kid!"
"What?"
"Yes sir! A little feller. He's up in a weed near where everybody's building the rock wall. We tried to get him down, but he won't budge."
Timothy followed the soldier back to the bug path entrance where Cilantro's troopers were building the wall. To the right of the wall, several soldiers were poking spears up into a weed. Timothy looked up into the weed. A very young ant was crouched in a crook between the stem and a leaf. He was wide-eyed and shaking with fear. Timothy glared at the two soldiers. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to get him down, sir."
"By poking spears at him? If you poked one of those things at me, I'd stay up there too! Help with the wall, I'll take care of this."
The two soldiers saluted and joined their mates. Timothy looked up at the little ant. "Hello up there. What's your name?"
For a few moments, the little ant just sat there. The Timothy heard him say, "Hic'ry."
"Hickory? I've got a cousin named Hickory. He's a big fellow too. Almost as big as you. Mind if I come up and sit a while?"
The little ant shook his head, so Timothy climbed up to a leaf just bellow the child. He had a good view of the bug path work, and the harvest area in general. By now West River probably knew of the attack here, and would be assembling a task force to investigate. Westie commanders were slow, but methodical. They'd be coming, that was certain. "Nice view you got up here, Hickory. Is your mother here? Is she one of the harvesters?"
"They took mommy away. I saw it. They killed her. I know they did."
For a moment, Timothy was stunned. Great Skies, he must have watched his mother being herded down away from the harvest area. "Oh no, no. Everybody's fine." Timothy pointed to the soldiers working below. "See all that? There's going to be a big fight here, lots of soldiers. We moved your mother and everybody else away, so they won't get hurt in the fight, that's all. Your mother's fine."
Timothy didn't have to work hard to convince the child, for he desperately wanted to believe his mother was all right. "I tell you what. You come down with me now, and we'll go find her. But we have to hurry, because I need to come back and help the soldiers here."
Little Hickory looked down, clearly afraid of the ants with long pointed sticks. "Here," Timothy said. "Climb on my back and we'll go down that way." He was slightly surpised when the child did.
When they reached the ground, Cilantro noticed them. "What's a kid doing here?"
"Apparently his mother's a harvester." Timothy set Hickory down, but the little ant still clung to his hand.
"Why'd she bring the little bugger to work, of all places?"
"No idea. Finish up here Lieutenant and keep a sharp eye. I'll be back shortly." Timothy told Hickory, "Let's see if we can't find your mother." He led his small charge across the harvesting area and down the slope to where the prisoners were corralled. When the West River workers came into view, Timothy asked, "Can you find your mother?"
The question was unnecessary. As Hickory's eyes searched the crowd, a middle-aged ant with dark freckles rushed forward. A guard moved to restrain her. Timothy signed to the soldier that it was all right, and gave the boy a little push toward his mother. The other West River ants were all watching as the boy leaped up into his crying mother's arms. A few Westie workers glared at Timothy with hatred, but most just looked frightened. He decided to address them.
"My name is Captain Timothy Flintspur. I know you're all a little scared. That's all right. We're not going to hurt you. Just stay calm and soon this'll all be over and you can go home."
A worker stepped forward. Her manner seemed calmer than most. Timothy decided she'd probably been through this before. "Captain, a lot of us will be getting thirsty in this sun. We could use some water."
Timothy nodded. "I've no water to spare, but I'll have some of my ants bring you some berries in a little while. Good enough?"
"Thank you Captain."
There was a disturbance behind him, and Timothy turned to find Blueleaf running down the slope. "Captain, we found something strange. I think you should see this."
"What kind of strange something, Lieutenant?"
"You really need to see for yourself sir."
Timothy nodded and turned back to the assembled West River ants. "I have to go now. I give you my word none of you will be harmed. Just try to be patient and you'll go home soon."
Blueleaf led his captain back up the slope and across the harvest area where two soldiers were using their spears to prod something lying on the ground. As Timothy approached it, he saw a framework of sticks supporting a large curled leaf, a round stone on an wooden axis, and a kind of circular projection studded with thorns. The whole thing was as large as several ants. At first Timothy thought it a kind of elaborate basket, but it made no sense. "What is it?"
"I don't know sir," Blueleaf replied.
As Timothy stared at the thing on the ground, one of Cilantro's troupers came running up breathlessly. "The enemy sir! They're coming!"
Timothy felt his stomach tighten with nervousness. "Blueleaf, get up above the path with your ants. Stay well out of sight and listen for Dash's horn. That'll be your signal to attack. Go!" Blueleaf ran off and Timothy joined Cilantro's group.
A ragged line of rocks now blocked the path to the colony where it let out onto the harvesting area. It wasn't a perfect defense, but given the available time Timothy thought it not bad. Cilantro's ants were in position behind the breastworks, weapons ready. Timothy found Dash and motioned him to stay with him. Two of Cilantro's ants, the Sandduster brothers, were standing on top of the rocks, eager to get the first glimpse of the West River force. Timothy cautioned them to get down unless they were anxious to be targets for the enemy's initial volley of rocks and spears. They weren't.
They heard the first sounds of the approaching West River force. Cilantro ordered everybody down behind their rocks. Timothy hid behind a rock on the right flank of the breastworks, while Cilantro had the other flank. An ant beside him was praying. "Put in a prayer for me, if you don't mind," Timothy said. The soldier nodded and went on praying. Dash wiped his horn down with a leaf. Everybody crouched and waited.
The noise of the enemy came louder now. Timothy peered between rocks and saw the West River soldiers come over the crest of the slope and head down into the gulley, marching three abreast with their commander out front. Someone said, "Here they come!" Dash brought his horn to his lips impatiently, but Timothy pushed it back down. "Sorry sir," Dash said. He was shaking.
West River's forces were well into the gulley and in rock-throwing range when their commander raised his hand to signal a halt. He'd seen the rock-wall and was momentarily puzzled. Come on, Timothy begged silently. If the Westies backed up and found some other path, all the work would be for nothing, and they'd be in a bad way. Come on!
The West River commander surveyed the situation, then issued some orders. Six skirmishers advanced ahead, then the whole colulmn began moving forward again. Soon half the column was under Blueleaf's position, advancing on the rock wall. As he approached the wall, one of the skirmisher gave a shout. At that moment Cilantro yelled "Attack!" and Timothy did the same. The defenders rose up behind their wall and hurled rocks and throwing-spears at the enemy's lead elements. The skirmishes went down under the volley. Two managed to throw their spears but they found no marks. The enemy commander gave new orders and the column rushed forward. The defenders got off another volley of rocks and spears before West River was on them.
Timothy had been in a few scrapes before, but he was unprepared for the ferocity of the West River ants as they rushed at the wall screaming. One of them nearly made it over the rocks before Timothy's mind reacted. He struck at the ant's legs, sending him falling backwards into a comrade behind him. Another shoved a spear between the rocks, but Dash threw his weight on it and broke it. Nearby the Sandduster brothers were yelling like bees as they struck at several ants trying to scramble over a low point in the breastworks. Another ant tried to scale the rock in front of Timothy, but Timothy discouraged the soldier with a jab from his spear.
Timothy glanced down the line toward Cilantro's position, but the big lieutenant wasn't in sight. There was so much noise that Timothy feared no one could issue orders. He looked over the rocks and saw nothing but enemy soldiers. Dozens were massed further up the gulley, waiting to crowd into the fight. Timothy tried to estimate their numbers but could not. Another wave was forming for a rush at the wall when Timothy remembered Blueleaf. "Dash, now!"
Dash tried to blow his horn, but his mouth was dry from fear and dust raised by the fight. "Spit!" Timothy told him. The wave of West River ants crashed against the rocks as Dash wet his lips and finally got the horn to sound. Timothy heard three loud notes as he was caught up in the fighting again. This time two ants came over his position. A sweep of his spear sent the first flying back over the wall, but the other leaped over and was on him with a long thorn-knife. Timothy was thrown on his back. He saw the knife come up to stab him, but then his opponent fell over as Dash's snail-horn smashed into the ant's head.
Climbing to his feet, Timothy saw one of the Sanddusters was down and the other brother beset by several attackers. He told Dash to hold here, and rushed to help the Sandduster. As they were fighting, there was a great sound up the path. A cheer rose up from the East River positions, but Timothy was too occupied to think on it as he and the Sandduster brother struggled with three ants trying to force their way over the rocks. Others pushed forward behind them. Horrified, Timothy realized it had been a mistake to stay and fight. There were too many West River soldiers, and his command would be wiped out. He fought desperately beside the Sandduster. Everyone was going to die or be captured, and it was all his fault.
The remaining Sandduster brother was locked in a brawl with another ant when a huge West River soldier aimed a spear at his backside. Timothy struck at his opponent with the butt of his spear, then launched himself at the ant about to spear the Sandduster. The big soldier easily parried Timothy's attack, then with an angry snarl brought the shaft of his spear crashing down on the back of Timothy's head. Timothy's weapon fell out of his hands and he went down hard. He lay still near some rocks, unable to get up and expecting to be killed at any moment. The final blow seemed long in coming. There was fighting near at hand, and Timothy wondered if the Sandduster had beaten his opponent. It seemed important, in a distant way.
Somewhere down the line, someone shouted "They're running! They're running!" Another cheer came up from somewhere. Timothy lay in a space between rocks, trying to recall what the Princess looked like. He would so like to see her again. He wished people would quit yelling so he could concentrate on her face, but the yelling went on and on. Suddenly hands were lifting him. He saw the blue sky above, then Cilantro's face staring down at him. "Are you all right Captain?"
Someone gave him some water. Timothy rubbed the back of his head, which was very sore. "I think so. I'm a bit fuzzy. Why are you here? What about your ants?"
"We won sir! They broke. We chased them down and took a bunch of prisoners. The rest are halfway back to their mother's chambers by now!"
"Well, I'll be." Timothy sat up. Lying nearby was the giant ant that had nearly bashed his skull in.
Cilantro noticed his gaze. "Oh, I had to knock that feller down. He was about to brain you. I expect he'll come around in a bit and be a little mad."
"Casualties?"
"We've got fifteen injured, four bad enough that they won't be soldiering for a little while, but they can walk. And you."
Timothy braced himself against a rock and got unsteadily to his feet. He stared up the path to West River. Dozens of West River ants were lying or standing there, all disarmed. Many were wounded. "How many dead for them?"
"None, they were lucky. Some won't be soldiering ever again though. Lots of leg wounds from trying this here wall. Up the path a bit they took lots of head wounds from Blueleaf's ants. All those rocks pelting them from above, that's what turned 'em. You did good sir."
Blueleaf came running up. "Sir! Skies, I'm glad to see you up! We heard you fell. Sir, we got thirty-eight more prisoners! Thirty-eight! Can you believe that? There were almost ninety in that bunch, and we whipped 'em! Took their commander too!"
Leaning against a rock for support, Timothy looked over the disarmed West River prisoners. He could see some of those that were hurt bad, and he felt shame because he wasn't. "Cilantro, take over here. See that the West River people get whatever help they need. Tell their commander he's to make stretchers for his wounded and prepare to move out. Blueleaf, take some berries to the workers, then bring them and those other captured soldiers up here, and have them join the others. I want them all here in this gulley. Treat everybody nice, and let me know when they can move their wounded."
"Are we taking them with us?" Cilantro asked.
"No, I want to send them back down the path. With all the wounded they'll move slow and block the path for a while. It might slow any traffic headed our way. Blueleaf?"
"Sir!"
"Figure out how much food we can carry back with us and set it aside. Destroy the rest-- I think you'll have time. I'm going to rest just a moment, then have another look at that basket-thing."
It took Timothy more than a few moments to feel right in the head again. He was desperately tired and the back of his head pained him. When he felt he could walk without falling over, he returned to the far side of the harvesting area to the strange basket-object. Dash followed without his horn, which broke apart when he struck it over the head of Timothy's assailant.
It was very peaceful where the odd device lay under a clump of clover. Except for Dash, there was no one about. Far over head Timothy heard a sparrow singing. Timothy examined the basket-thing again and found his first impression had missed some details. It was not well made, whatever it was. The sticks that made up the frame were old and cracked and not of matching lengths. Bits of frayed fibers bound the frame together. Where resin had been used as glue, it was sparingly and poorly applied. The whole thing had a rickety appearance. Whatever it was intended to do, it would not do long.
"What is it sir?" Dash asked, poking at the device.
"I'm not sure." He studied the burr-like projection. "I think it may be a weapon, or maybe some kind of tunneling tool."
Just then, the workers appeared in the harvesting area, herded by Blueleaf's ants. Timothy had a thought. He rushed over and sorted through the prisoners until he had found the one who had spoken to him earlier. Sending the others on, he and Dash escorted her over to the basket-thing. "You'll be headed home with the others soon," he told her, "but could you tell me what this thing is?"
The worker stared at the thing on the ground. "I'm not really sure," she said. "A couple of ants brought it from the colony yesterday morning. They said we were supposed to test it. We asked what it did and how we were supposed to test it, but they said 'That's your problem, you figure it out', then they left."
"What did you do?"
"Nothing," she said. "We were all looking at it when the soldiers came up and asked what we were doing. As soon as they saw it, they took it away from us. They said it's a weapon and only trained soldiers could use it."
"What did they do with it?"
She shrugged. "They looked at it for a while and then went off to play cards while we worked."
"So here it sits."
"I guess so. Are you really letting us all go? I heard there was a fight and we lost."
"You're free to go home with the others. I"m sorry for all the trouble."
She looked at him. "Your head's bleeding."
Timothy reached behind his head. His hand came away bloody. "Guess I'd better have someone look at it before I bleed all over everybody. Thanks for all your help."
"Captain, why are we fighting each other?"
Timothy looked back toward the bug path where everyone was gathering, East and West. "Yesterday I thought I knew. But now I really don't know."
Cilantro and Blueleaf were approaching from the battle site. Timothy thanked the West River worker and she left to join the others. Too late he realized he never asked her name.
"Sir, they're ready to move out," Cilantro reported. "Should we make ready too?"
Timothy had turned back to the basket-thing. "What do you two make of this?"
Cilantro barely glanced at the contraption. "Begging the Captain's pardon sir, but in a few minutes the whole dern Westie army's gonna be coming down that road, mad as hornets. I'd sure like to be somewhere's else when it does. One scrap a day's enough for me." Blueleaf nodded in agreement.
Timothy was also anxious to depart, but he wished he had more time to study the enemy device. Something about it troubled him, and he felt he was missing an important fact. But if they wanted to leave carrying food from the harvest, they had to leave soon. "All right, have your ants form up and make ready to leave as soon as possible. Cilantro, have the prisoners start back for their colony. Tell them to stay together and help their wounded. With any luck they'll block the road and delay the Westies. Let's find the colonel and go home."
"Yes sir!"
"Blueleaf, have a detachment destroy this thing."
"Why not take it back with us sir?"
Timothy shook his head. "It's too bulky. It'd snag on plants and slow us up. Besides, whatever this is, our people can't eat it. If we're going to carry anything, let's make sure it's food." Timothy grinned at Blueleaf. "Won't old Watershome be surprised when we come back carrying his dinner!"
Blueleaf grinned. "Yes sir! He will!"