fortress could reposition them in time to repel the coming assault.
Speaking of which—
He thought that Kujulo was probably in position, by now. No way to tell for sure, of course. Kungas had selected Kujulo to lead the attack because of the man’s uncanny stealth. Not even Kungas, knowing what to look for, had caught more than a glimpse or two of Kujulo’s men as they worked their way carefully up the hill. He was quite sure the Malwa guards had seen nothing.
He swiveled his head slowly, scanning right and left. He was pleased, though not surprised, to see that his entire army was in position, waiting for the signal.
Satisfied, Kungas turned his eyes back to the fortress. As if that little head motion had been the signal, Kujulo launched his attack.
Kungas could not see all the details of that sudden assault. Partly, because of the distance. Mostly, because of Kujulo.
That was the other reason Kungas had picked the man. Quick, quick, he was. He and the men whom he had trained. Quick, quick. Merciless.
He saw Kujulo’s ten men lunging out of the trees. They had gotten within ten yards of the guard canopy without being spotted.
Three seconds later, the killing began. Eight seconds later, the killing ended. Most of that time had been spent spearing the five Malwa gamblers, whose squawling, writhing, squirming huddle had presented a peculiar obstacle to the Kushan soldiers. Almost like spearing a school of fish.
Kungas watched none of it, however. As soon as he saw Kujulo’s men lunge out of the trees, he gave the order for the general assault. Five hundred Kushans—less the forty already charging the gate—began storming up the hill.
It was a veteran kind of “storm.” The Kushans paced themselves carefully. There was no
Speaking of which—
He thought that Kujulo was probably in position, by now. No way to tell for sure, of course. Kungas had selected Kujulo to lead the attack because of the man’s uncanny stealth. Not even Kungas, knowing what to look for, had caught more than a glimpse or two of Kujulo’s men as they worked their way carefully up the hill. He was quite sure the Malwa guards had seen nothing.
He swiveled his head slowly, scanning right and left. He was pleased, though not surprised, to see that his entire army was in position, waiting for the signal.
Satisfied, Kungas turned his eyes back to the fortress. As if that little head motion had been the signal, Kujulo launched his attack.
Kungas could not see all the details of that sudden assault. Partly, because of the distance. Mostly, because of Kujulo.
That was the other reason Kungas had picked the man. Quick, quick, he was. He and the men whom he had trained. Quick, quick. Merciless.
He saw Kujulo’s ten men lunging out of the trees. They had gotten within ten yards of the guard canopy without being spotted.
Three seconds later, the killing began. Eight seconds later, the killing ended. Most of that time had been spent spearing the five Malwa gamblers, whose squawling, writhing, squirming huddle had presented a peculiar obstacle to the Kushan soldiers. Almost like spearing a school of fish.
Kungas watched none of it, however. As soon as he saw Kujulo’s men lunge out of the trees, he gave the order for the general assault. Five hundred Kushans—less the forty already charging the gate—began storming up the hill.
It was a veteran kind of “storm.” The Kushans paced themselves carefully. There was no