by M J Webb
“Nitrii-hebul be praised. There it is!” hissed Zephany in a hushed voice, as soon as everyone was in position. “We have to ”uiet from here in. Any sounds we make will be carried on the night air. Jake, where’s Jake?” she asked, looking around her and peering in the darkness to identify each member of the group.
“I’m right here, Princess.” whispered Jake, as loud as he dared, from a position four soldiers away from Zephany. He was already studying the fortress with Verastus lying at his side. He stared down at his hands briefly, they weren’t shaking. ‘That’s odd,’ he thought, ‘I’m not nervous. I should be tingling with fear, anticipation, excitement, anything! But I’m as calm as I’ve ever been. And again, I’m so confident. It’s not natural in the circumstances. It has to be the stones. And yet, they’re so far away? How do they work? How can this be? I’m sure I don’t know, I can’t explain it. But, I guess this ain’t the time or place to be considering such things.’ He shook his head slightly to clear his mind.
“So, what’s your plan, Princess?” he whispered.
“Plan? I… I thought we would creep up to the fortress quietly, try and find a way inside, an unguarded door perhaps? Or else, we shall have to scale the wall at its lowest point, once we have located it.” she replied hesitantly.
Jake suddenly felt an urge to speak, though he was conscious of how it may appear to Zephany and her men. “Err... Yes, I mean, we could. But I think I have a better idea.” he whispered, staring at Verastus. “I mean, if you’re up for it?”
“Kuh? Up for it? You mean I suppose, am I willing to follow your plan? Whatever it may be?” said a puzzled Verastus. “Of course I am. What do you think I am doing here? I owe you a debt I have sworn to repay, remember? Just name it, and it will be done.” he rasped boldly.
“Right then. Good. Everyone listen in carefully.” said Jake, as he gathered them all around him and explained his idea in detail to the whole group.
Moments later, the raiding force made their way across the fields that lay between them and Heron Getracht fortress, darting silently from cover to cover until all of them reached a small depression which was just short of the road to the fortress gates but still hidden from the view of any sentries or lookouts on the fortress walls. They all silently drew their swords, except for Castrad, who took the one offered to him by Verastus. Jake, Castrad and one of Zephany’s rebels crawled over to the road with Verastus, who stood up quickly and clasped his hands in front of him as if they were bound. Jake and the rebel soldier took hold of his arms and Castrad walked behind them, his sword drawn and pointing at Verastus’ back. They approached the gate with as much speed as they dared, until they were challenged just short of it by a youthful sounding, nervous voice hollering out of the darkness.
“Halt! You there! Halt I say!” shouted the young soldier, from high on the ramparts above.
The raiders continued shuffling forward. Only Lord Castrad looked up. The young soldier was silhouetted against the night sky high above them, his arms raised as he cupped his hands around his mouth in an attempt to project his voice. He was joined seconds later by three others and they now all stared down with mounting concern at the dark figures below, straining their eyes to identify who they might be.
“St-state your business here!” the soldier shouted loudly, having gained a little confidence from the appearance of his friends. Castrad responded in the deepest voice he could muster as the group continued to inch their way forward.
“Open the gates!” he demanded. “Can you not see we have a prisoner? We have caught the runaway slave, Verastus! Open the gates quickly, King Vantrax wants this one under lock and key. He is dangerous. He has already killed six of our men!” he bellowed at the confused soldiers above.
They were nearly upon the gates now and they stopped at Jake’s silent command, so as not to make recognition too easy for the young soldiers above. Verastus lifted his head to let the fortress defenders see his features. But as he did, he flicked a glance at Castrad and smiled slightly, having been amused by the Nadjan’s impromptu embellishment of Jake’s plan.
“But... But I have my orders! I can not...” stuttered the young soldier in a panic.
“If this prisoner escapes, then you will personally answer to King Vantrax!” shouted Castrad furiously.
The defenders on the ramparts all looked at each other in horror and confusion. The thought of facing an angry Vantrax quickly dispelled any doubts they may have had and the young soldier in charge shouted down to those in the courtyard to open the gates, still unsure as to whether he was making the right decision or not.
Castrad ordered the group forward as the young soldiers watched anxiously from above. As the gates opened, they could see more soldiers emerging from the buildings surrounding the courtyard. The defenders at the gates all moved backwards warily, trying not to present an easy target for any surprise attack. The small party of raiders walked through the open gates. As soon as they were inside the fortress, Jake and the rebel soldier suddenly released Verastus and drew their swords with lightning speed. Castrad immediately handed Verastus his sword back and drew his own from its scabbard. The sound of running soldiers followed swiftly and, within seconds, they were joined inside the courtyard by Zephany and the rest of her force, all of them now with weapons drawn and ready for a fight.
The young fortress defenders were taken completely by surprise, the attack had been so quick that they’d been unable to reach the gates to close them in time. The small group of rebels had done it! Jake’s plan had worked brilliantly. They were now inside Heron Getracht fortress, the supposedly impregnable walls had been breached by eleven rebels, a slave and a young boy. But there was no time for them to savour the moment; soldiers began appearing from all parts of the inner defences. The raiding force was still heavily outnumbered. And now it was in real danger of being overrun. The attack on the fortress and the plan to release the prisoners held captive there, could be over before it had really begun!
Despite the precarious nature of their predicament, Jake and Verastus smiled confidently at each other. Everything had gone perfectly so far, but both of them knew that it was not over yet. ‘Great! We’re actually inside the gates,’ thought Jake, surprised himself at how well his plan had worked, ‘but young men like me rarely give in without a fight. We may have bitten off more than we can chew. There’s still a lot of work to be done!’
Chapter 21
The Night of 14/15th August – En route to Erriard Forest - Rhuaddan
Sawdon twisted himself around in his saddle and looked back at the Northern Army which was sprawled out across the countryside for miles behind him, their armour and shields glinting majestically in the moonlight. He breathed in the cool night air with deep satisfaction. The veteran Thargw warrior was at his happiest now, riding to war with all the joy and excitement of an expectant father. This is what he lived for. It was what he’d always wanted to do and what he had trained for his whole life, the sole purpose of a Thargw’s existence, and the only thing that totally fulfilled him. He gazed backwards with pride at the army he now led. The King’s Personal Guard were flanking the extended column on either side and they were a magnificent sight to behold, riding their fabulous jet black horses with their chests puffed out with pride and their all-black uniforms and gold castle emblems catching the eye, making them instantly recognisable. They were all eager and alert, their eyes constantly scanning the horizon in each direction for any signs of the enemy and all of them prepared to ride into action at a moment’s notice. Sawdon’s eyes gleamed as he cast them over the rest of the column.
The army was following the old dirt track that meandered its way across the Astelli Plains from Heron Getracht and the Isle of Tialeu, to Erriard Forest. The Thargws at the front were all marching happily and singing their native battlesongs with gusto as they anticipated eagerly the battle ahead. Their songs were uplifting and all seemed to have the same message or theme, invariably proclaiming to everyone that, ‘The Thar
gws were on the march and heading to war!’ Thargw warriors sang for comradeship. They sang to warn or intimidate any enemies, or even allies, who listened. But most of all, they sang to warn their glorious dead, who now resided in the warrior’s paradise of Kalvanaar, that they were marching to battle and may soon be joining them in the hallowed halls. They were all thoroughly enjoying every minute of the march, and one particular chorus was being ‘belted out’ furiously, time and time again.
‘Sound the Battlehorn! Bang the drum!
Lift up your heads and roar,
Take up your swords, proclaim it loud,
The Thargws are going to War!
Marching to War, so stand aside,
And watch our banners soar,
Onwards and forward to victory...
Or we’ll meet in Kalvanaar!’
“Look at them!” said Sawdon proudly, as he listened to their song for the umpteenth time. “Is there any finer sight in this world than the Thargws marching to do battle?” he asked, turning himself back around to face Vantrax and Strymos.
“I cannot deny, they are a fine sight, Sawdon. I will concede that point to you happily.” replied Strymos. “It is a pity though, that the remainder of the Northern Army does not share their disciplined approach to war.” he added, pointing at the Dzorag and the Falorian Spearmen who followed behind the Thargws. Sawdon grunted and turned around to look behind him once again.
The mixed groups of soldiersand creatures following the Thargws were not such an inspiring sight. The Taskan Warriors were marching and looking smart enough, but the remainder of the army was a shambles to look at, particularly the ill-disciplined Dzorag, who were riding in no particular formation and looked more like a mixed rabble of brawlers than an army of mercenaries.
“You two should stop your moaning.” stated Vantrax suddenly. “It is a fact that they do not look like my Guard, or your Thargws, Sawdon. They are not so impressive when you look at them I agree, but I do not hire them for their attire. If they fight well for me in battle, I am willing to overlook their dress sense, and even some of their unsavoury personality traits. And I am told, they all fight well, do they not?” he asked of both commanders.
Sawdon and Strymos both replied to the question with a solitary nod of their head. It was unusual for both of them to be in agreement and that was twice now in the past few hours. They glanced at each other briefly in surprise, but quickly looked away as the contempt they felt for one another surfaced again. Both soldiers knew that King Vantrax had raised an important point. It was true that the King’s Northern Army was a makeshift force of mercenaries from differing regions across the two continents of Estia and Mynae, but it was comprised entirely of battle hardened soldiers who loved to fight. Most were volunteers who were being paid for their services, unlike the majority of the Southern Army, so their morale was good. They hadn’t tasted defeat on a battlefield for a very long time and had grown accustomed to being victorious. Controlling them in the heat of battle could often prove difficult for commanders, given the many different species and methods of waging war, but at least they had no concerns over their ability, or will to fight.
“I believe that you may both need reminding,” added Vantrax, who was feeling supremely confident of victory and would entertain no negative thoughts at this time, “that it is we who are the lucky ones. I have been deliberately selective over the years. My Northern Army contains only those tribes who I know can manage to co-exist. I have consciously divided the warring factions amongst my recruits. Poor Obreth commands a far more diverse and difficult force in the south. So, stop your whining and enjoy this moment with me.”
Vantrax was feeling good. They’d been riding and marching for several hours now and they had maintained a good pace. Even the Falorian Spearmen, who were normally lagging behind at this point, had managed to keep up with the column without complaining too much, and they were now over half way to Erriard Forest. At the pace they were setting, they would definitely be in position before daybreak, poised to attack the rebels at first light. Exactly as Vantrax had planned.
Sawdon shifted himself in his saddle once again, he grunted and moaned, then he began scratching a few imaginary itches. He gazed up at the night sky at nothing in particular. And finally, he spoke.
“Krarr! I think I will ride the column.” he shouted suddenly, in a firm, deep voice. The Thargw was bursting with nervous energy, awash with uncontrollable excitement that gave him the immediate need to do something. “Srrr, before I do, my King,” he said to Vantrax, deciding there and then to ask the question he’d been wanting to ask of him all night long, “I have decided that, if it is your wish sire, that I will lead my countrymen into battle. If you would allow it? With you yourself in command, and Strymos here beside you, I can be spared, surely? And I believe it is my rightful place. It is where I should be.” said pleadingly, before eagerly awaiting King Vantrax’ response.
Vantrax looked Sawdon straight in the eye as he thought long and hard about what he was asking. He knew that it was a huge risk letting him fight in the forthcoming battle. Despite his awesome ability, one stray arrow or slip...? He certainly didn’t want to lose Sawdon. The Thargw was his strongest warrior and ally, respected and revered by all of his army, and the local population were terrified of him and his reputation, a fact which had proved increasingly useful to the evil King. But he knew that the mighty warrior was right. He would not be happy watching from afar, he’d probably never forgive Vantrax for not allowing him to fight. And he was their best. ‘He’s right,’ he thought, ‘it is his place.’
“Oh, very well, Sawdon,” Vantrax replied, “go and tell your Thargws.”
Sawdon’s face erupted into an enormous smile. He was like a child who’d been given a new toy and he let out a mighty ‘Ra!’, as he turned his horse and galloped away swiftly down the column of soldiers that trailed far behind them. His reaction amused Vantrax but he tried hard to conceal it from Strymos, who was riding beside him.
As Sawdon reached and passed the Thargws at the head of the column they stopped singing and every single warrior began cheering loudly, hailing their mighty hero in the only way they knew. Sawdon’s chest swelled with pride, he rode into their midst for some distance and then stopped in the middle of them, waiting happily for what seemed like an age for the cheers to eventually subside a little. Then he held up his right arm and the noise abated.
“Warriors! I do not wish to delay your march to war my friends, so I shall be brief!” he shouted at the top of his considerable voice, to all the Thargws who had gathered around him. “I thought that I would share this wondrous news with you all. This joyous news! My gracious King Vantrax, ruler of all this land, has just decreed... That I, Sawdon, shall lead you into battle!!”
The Thargws were ecstatic. They all began cheering wildly at the news, embracing each other and slapping each other on their backs as if celebrating a great victory already won. The thunderous noise startled Sawdon’s horse beneath him and it reared up violently. Sawdon controlled it expertly and effortlessly, then he galloped away through the gap the Thargws made for him and down the rest of the column at high speed. The warriors all watched their hero leave and when he’d gone they immediately reformed their ranks to continue their march, bursting once again into song and singing louder than ever before. They were watched contentedly by King Vantrax.
“What is it about him?” asked Strymos, impressed, surprised and perplexed by the Thargws natural and unanimous reaction to Sawdon and his statement.
“Grar. You just do not get it, do you Strymos?” began Vantrax. “Sawdon is just another Thargw to you and I. But to those warriors, he is the embodiment of all a Thargw could, and should, be! To them, he is already a living legend. One of their creed who always leads by example with the deeds he does, and the Thargw he is. I should not have to explain this to you, but those young soldiers, they all, to a Thargw, wish that they were him. Wish they could be more like him. To have his strength, his power, h
is sense of Thargw honour. That is why I had to let him fight. Though I do not wish to lose him, he inspires others. They will not dare to fail him, and I know they will fight twice as hard with him leading them.” stated the evil King, wioyolint in his eye.
“I see sire.” Strymos replied, feeling extremely envious of the respect and adulation shown to his fellow Gerada.
“Char! You do not see at all, Strymos!” Vantrax disagreed sharply. “Your world is governed by greed. You have no courage, no honour. That is why I like you. But I do not, and I never will, trust you. You would betray me without a second thought if you had the chance, for the right price. And if you had the courage. I have no such worries with Sawdon. And I never will. Do you see now?” he asked, staring at the red faced Gerada by his side.