Tempest of Bravoure: Kingdom Ascent

by Valena D'Angelis

  “And what if that is the case?” Kairen intervened. “Should we just give up? When did the odds ever stop us? We shake that valley, we blast them with fire arrows from all sides. We make them quiver in chaos and surprise!”

  She gazed upon the crowd and saw Ahna to the side who raised her hand.

  “Sharr has the Dragonborn, the one from the war,” the elf declared, and the crowd fell silent again. “We didn’t get the chance to warn you before,” Ahna revealed. “We found out back in Bravoure.” She looked to the shrike lieutenant, who nodded passively. “He’s been locked up for fifty years.”

  As she spoke, the confidence of the crowd dimmed again. Soldiers gasped.

  “What happened to our Dragonborn?” one soldier asked.

  Ahna took a deep breath. “We’re not sure.” The crowd became more agitated, and the elf intervened quickly. “But we shouldn’t lose faith! The second prophecy came for a reason. Brother Gideon instructed us to trust in the gods.” Ahna, resolute, crossed her arms and looked at David. “I’ll find Sharr’s Dragonborn. And I’ll find a way to tame him, to hold him back,” she said with great conviction.

  As the commander looked back to the crowd, Lynn then raised a fist in the air.

  “We live brave,” the Taz woman called. “We die free. If we take down as many of Sharr’s men as possible, we make it easier for the next rebellion! If we kill Sharr, the Resistance wins!”

  Captain Senris finally gave a nod of approval. He was convinced enough to fight again. The others in the nave followed Lynn in unison with their fists held high. They all faced Commander Falco, who then joined them.

  “We live brave!” David shouted.

  “We die free!” all shouted with him.

  David collapsed on the bench by the nave’s altar, his face covered in his hands.

  “I have to lead a few dozen soldiers into a battle against an army!” he exclaimed.

  Kairen, the most determined of them, came to sit next to him. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder and held his hand. “The chaos we’ll cause will be a massive diversion. It will give us the advantage of surprise and distress.”

  His wife attempted to reassure him, but the commander was more concerned than he had ever been.

  “Joshua had this glorious flame that rallied the Resistance together. Now that he’s dead, I’m not sure what to do,” he confessed.

  “Then improvise,” Kairen said with the humblest of tones. “We blow the cannons, set their tents on fire, and then we see what happens.”

  “Improvise? I can’t tell the last of the Resistance to just be creative.”

  “You don’t have to,” Kairen retorted. “They already are.” She smiled as she remembered all the crazy plans, the desperate ideas, the insane things they did to save themselves, like blowing up a mountain. “David, I married you, not only for your Taz righteousness but also for your heart. The heart of a born leader. Joshua saw it too. You will lead these rebel heroes to battle, and who knows, maybe we’ll win. Let’s just hope so!”

  The commander chuckled awkwardly at the words of his dear wife.

  “This will be suicide,” he declared, grim and convinced.

  “I’ll ask again, David, do we have a choice?”

  Her husband fell silent. He was at a loss for words. During the gathering, the idea had seemed revolutionary. Now, after a few thoughts, only doubts remained in his heart. “We’re going to die there,” he murmured, distant.

  “No, David, I will have none of this!” She clenched her husband’s hand and forced him to stand up.

  She dragged him to the center of the nave, where the other soldiers waited patiently for their orders to come. She then waved to get their attention. The last swordswoman of her own squad was there. Diego and the remainder of Squadron Five. Lynn. Jules. Luk Ma and the last of his scouts. Her dear sister and friend, Ahna. Once they were all looking at her, Kairen cleared her throat and stepped on a bench.

  “Rebels! This man here”—she pointed to David with a grin—“doesn’t think he can be a good commander!” Her husband, embarrassed, smiled awkwardly. “He thinks our next mission is suicide, and he cannot bring himself to lead you into battle because of it.” A few rebels giggled at Kairen’s humorous but stubborn tone. “But my friends, what is our motto again?” They remained silent. “Come on, what is our motto?” she insisted.

  “We live brave, we die free,” a soldier answered gloriously.

  “Exactly. So what do we say to my husband when he thinks he’s sending us to our deaths?”

  Diego cleared his throat. “That even if that is the case, we’re ready to fight to the death, and if we die, then we die free.”

  Kairen nodded and invited David to join her on the bench. David, after her few convincing motions, finally stood up above the crowd next to his wife.

  She looked to him with her fiery gaze and spoke to the small crowd. “This may be the last of this rebellion, but it is certainly not the last of the Resistance.”

  And the soldiers around them applauded and cheered in unison.

  Ahna joined the shrike lieutenant who sat in his dorm on Cedric’s bed. Jules was pensive, staring at the opposite stone wall. When the elf walked in, she noticed he held his captain’s infamous bow. Cedric had left it there before their departure to the Temple of the Four Winds. Ahna came to sit next to him.

  She looked at the curious bow, such a simple yet beautiful piece with tremendous power.

  “When you held it, you set an entire harbor on fire,” Jules suddenly murmured in contemplation.

  Ahna chuckled and touched the ornate wood as she remembered the faraway events of East Haven. “It’s the Cursed Bow,” she said, looking at the ornate object. “How did he even get his hands on that?”

  Jules smiled and turned to her. “That’s a long story. Maybe another time.”

  Ahna, interested in the adventure that happened more than a decade ago, took a mental note that Jules would one day tell the story of the Cursed Bow. She was aware of the upcoming war that could also be the end of the Resistance. Her wounded and maybe optimistic heart still thought that one day, she might sit around a fire again, together with Jules, Lynn and Diego, and sing songs about this Item of Power and what a journey it must have been. She thought of Cedric, who, maybe, would join them in this fantasy.

  “You take it,” Jules said as he handed her Cedric’s bow. “It took the captain many full moons to master the pain. With you, the curse became a whole different story.”

  Ahna smiled at the man she could call friend. “The Cursed Bow was crafted by the Ancients,” she finally explained. “It is supposed to be wielded by a magic-user.”

  Jules now understood a little more. He stayed silent next to Ahna for a while. “I’m not sure what I should do,” he confessed after the long pause. “I’m not sure he’s even gone.”

  “Neither am I, but Gideon,” Ahna still found it difficult to speak of the wise cleric so soon. “Gideon said to have faith.”

  “Faith...” Jules scoffed. “We haven’t had rest since East Haven! I’m so tired, I don’t even know what faith is anymore.”

  Ahna passed her hand behind the lieutenant’s shoulders. They both sat there for a longer moment. After a deep sigh, Jules stood up and left the room with his shortsword, prepared to join the company of soldiers waiting outside the gates of Fort Gal.

  Ahna remained seated on what had been Cedric’s bed for but a few nights. As she held the bow, she could feel its power calling to her. She clenched it close to her before leaving the room in turn.

  Luk Ma nodded at Kairen, his scouts were ready. Diego and the last of his peers were amassed around David Falco. They were receiving their commander’s instructions. Captain Senris and his rangers latched their bows on their quivers—the rags of cloth for the fire arrows were ready. When Ahna came closer to Kairen, the red-haired woman turned to her.

  “This is it, Ahna,” she began. “It all ends tomorrow morning, one way or another.”

>   The elf placed her hands on Kairen’s shoulders.

  “I couldn’t be prouder of you,” she said with love. “I remember you as a child. I remember when we trained with wooden sticks. I remember the first time you told me of David, the Tazman soldier who had won your heart.”

  Kairen blushed, and the emotions came rushing through her veins. “I remember when you said you’d never leave Miggdra!” she joked and the two laughed together.

  “We’ve come so far,” the elf retorted.

  “The battle of Orgna was one thing,” Kairen said. “This is closure.”

  As the two sisters embraced, David marched to them. He gave a tender kiss to his wife and looked at Ahna. “Maybe after this, we can have a family dinner at a table in a house in Bravoure city!” he suggested, with faraway hope.

  “I will hold you to that, David.”

  As Kairen headed to the soldiers, David remained alone with Ahna for a moment. She noticed the shadow of doubt in his eyes, the faint veil that still remained. He stared at the dozens of soldiers ready to embark on their final mission.

  “David,” she called to get his attention. “I know I should have joined the cause way earlier. I was a coward...”

  The commander motioned for her to hush. “Ahna, I don’t know what it was like during the war. From what I’ve gathered so far, Sharr killed your family. He sent out his cleansing order, and all you knew, all you had, was lost. I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t have run from that.” He smiled at her. “I’m not going to accept any of your excuses, because you don’t owe any.”

  At the last of his words, he straightened his body. He brought his hand to the side of his right temple. He then honored Ahna with the military salute of Resistance soldiers.

  “You’re a great leader, David,” Ahna told him with gentle kindness.

  “Your sister is a better one!”

  “Most certainly!” They both laughed together.

  When they regained their quietude, the commander went to Mother Divine, who stood outside and blessed the soldiers one by one. He instructed her to care for the refugees and the wounded soldiers who could not fight while the battle raged. He advised her that, should Lord Sharr win, they were to retreat as far away as possible. Perhaps Miggdra could be an appropriate place. There was a path going east that would rejoin the road above the Azul, toward the north. It was a long way, and David apologised for not being able to do more. But Mother Divine amusedly threatened David that, should he apologise again, she would hit him on the forehead with her holy pendant.

  As he worried for the refugees, Astea assured him she would take care of them. She promised him she would keep the spirit of the Resistance alive for as long as she could. She would do everything in her power to let the songs of brave heroes echo through the valleys of Gurdal for the rest of her days. David bowed to her in respect and gave her space to bless the rest of the company.

  When the sun passed its zenith, sindur scouts spotted Sharr’s troops far in the distance, still at the encampment, as though they waited for the next orders. When they returned uphill, a squad of ten men and women helped drag the old cannons toward the valley. They took the trail covered by the avalanche. No one knew the mountains as best as the rebels. They slithered down a path unwatched by Sharr.

  The cannons slid smoothly on top of the thick snow. At their speed, they would be on the road for at least a full day before reaching the edge of the canyon of Orgna early the next morning. They prayed with their soul that Sharr’s army would stay put, exposed at the center of the valley.

  Behind the cannons dragged by the artificers, Senris’ Antlers marched, and behind them, Commander Falco and what was left of his garrison. A few civilian refugees accompanied the soldiers, those who wished to bear arms and fight with them.

  Ahna, who followed alongside Kairen, could hear the pounding hearts of all the fighters around her. But it was not the beating of fear, it was that of resolve and purpose. She looked at the woman she was proud to call little sister, who smiled at her with the copper eyes of her youth. On her shoulders, she wore her favorite crimson shawl. The last company of the rebellion moved down the high mountains of Gurdal, together, ready to finish the final fight.

  17

  Beast of War

  The nearing dawn covered the valley of the lowlands of Gurdal with a dim veil of light. The morning breeze swayed the grass with a peaceful caress. The birds far ahead in the forests had begun their daybreak ritual of chants and songs, and a flock of swans soared into the morning sky.

  A few artificers walked discretely along each side of the cliffs of the valley where Orgna had once stood, and they dragged the old cannons of Fort Gal with them. They moved silently and remained undetected. They placed the barrels one by one in sets of three, symmetrically along the valley edges. Then, they glutted them with shock grenades.

  David signaled for Captain Senris to rally his men silently, and the vidthralfar waved to the last of the Antlers. They placed themselves between the cannons with their bows ready. They each carried a bag of oil-soaked rags. Once in position, they carefully picked each piece of cloth and swiftly wound it tight around each arrow. They were to shoot three arrows at the same time and aim accurately at the tents below.

  The commander gazed over the encampment. In the dim light, he saw the figures of the shrikes moving in the shadow by the edges. They spotted Sharr’s tent and laid low, for now.

  “We have the advantage of surprise. Once we set this place ablaze, all Hell will break loose,” David whispered to Kairen. “My love,”—he turned to her and plunged his gaze into her eyes—“when the shrikes head for Sharr, we charge down the hill, swords high, and fight with all we have.”

  His wife nodded firmly. Luk Ma, who stood beside the commander, turned to his sindur scouts. “Pick up your daggers, sharpen your claws, and charge with David,” he ordered quietly.

  “Ahna,” David called as he turned to the archmage. “Find the Dragonborn.”

  Commander Falco raised his fist in the air. He made eye contact with the rebel artificers at the cannons. The barrels were all aimed at the encampment.

  David lowered his arm toward the ground. The artificers set each fuse aflame. A short moment passed in what, to them, felt like a lifetime.

  The blast of each cannon that simultaneously shot resounded across the valley. The sudden clash of shock grenades against the grounds beneath Sharr’s army, awoke the encampment. Bursts from all corners, a loud thunder of bright flashes of lightning in all directions. Sharr’s men ran out of the tents, seized their weapons, and stood dazed and disoriented, in a fighting stance. They looked up, down, left, right, no assailant to be seen.

  The rebels had already reloaded the cannons with more shock grenades.

  The heavy drops of destructive rain shattered against the valley floor. They had to cover their ears, some soldiers had already collapsed to the ground. Others had looked up.

  “Above the cliff!” a few shouted in panic.

  A horde of howling dokkalfar plunged their hands and feet into the ground to climb the cliff.

  With their steel daggers and a piece of flint, Senris and his archers above set their cloth bags on fire and dipped each arrow one by one into the flames. They first held their bows straight and waited for the heads to catch fire properly. Then, in a swift and gracious move, they rotated their bows horizontally together and stretched the strings.

  They aimed at the tents, behind the horde that attempted to climb up. When they released their pull, they unleashed a hellish downpour. Many tents below were set on fire. Some crazed soldiers ran between the flames, lost, like headless hens. The archers each reloaded three arrows onto their bows. A moment later, they launched another infernal torrent upon the encampment.

  More of Sharr’s soldiers amassed beneath the rebels and became more organised. After the second wave of fire arrows, they had begun raising shields and arming themselves properly. A dozen of them had encircled Sharr’s tent, to keep him pro
tected while he prepared for battle. The archers who still had arrows and fire left shot their last blazing embers at the troops below.

  There were no more shock grenades.

  When Senris signaled to David, the commander raised his fist in the air again. “Charge!” he shouted in a long and triumphant warcry.

  The company of Resistance fighters charged down the mudslide, where Orgna had stood, toward the horde of dokkalfar soldiers. They ran with the fire of glory in their eyes. As they almost reached the valley floor, they began the fight against the first of Sharr’s troops.

  The shrikes emerged out of the darkness and struck the few soldiers from behind. Those quickly fell to the ground as blades pierced through their chainmail, through their ribcage. One of the guards by Sharr’s tent swung his sword at Jules, who parried swiftly and pushed him back. As the guard toppled backwards, Jules kicked him in the stomach, and when he was about to fall, the shrike lieutenant slid behind him and plunged his sword in his back. The other shrike next to him had just made the same move and stabbed the next guard through his armor. The dead dark elf fell down.

  The furthest shrike raced toward the last guard. She passed the entrance of the tent when a tall, lithe man found his way past her. He pushed his dark blade into her stomach. As he pushed further, she held on to his golden armor. Blood began to drip out of her mouth, and he pulled out his sword. He scowled at her lifeless body and growled.

  Before Lord Sharr moved again, Jules clashed his blade against his. The shrike fought against him, urging him back cut after cut. But when he pushed Xandor almost to the ground, the false king hauled Jules’ arm in and used the momentum of the pull to raise himself back up and slink behind the shrike.

  Jules fell face first in the mud.

  He swiftly turned and crawled backwards as Xandor pointed his sword at him. Another shrike charged the dokkalfar prince but was greeted with the edge of his blade blackened with blood.