Of Blood and Steel

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Of Blood and Steel Page 15

by Seymour Zeynalli


  “I think those are edible,” Arda said to Balak.

  Balak took one, examined it, and ate it cautiously.

  “They taste the same as the other edible berries, so they should be safe.”

  “Thank you,” Arda said, accepting the berries.

  She ate a few and Balak also ate some. She wrapped some in a cloth for the child who was still snoozing. Balak and Arda settled by the large tree, and Arda soon fell asleep.

  Balak watched the little creatures as they walked back and forth in small groups, dipping their feet into the hole, covering them and then disappearing out of sight with their weapons, so others could take their turn. Some had swords and others had spears. Balak managed to get some sleep but woke Arda at first light.

  “We need to get started on our journey again. This place makes me feel uneasy.”

  Balak started to dress in silence.

  “Balak, is everything alright?” Arda asked

  “Something just doesn’t sit right with me about that image in the cave. I am gonna go take another look.”

  “Great. I will collect food for the journey,” Arda said.

  He headed back inside and followed the pictures. He looked at the image of the creature. It looked twice as tall as Balak.

  “Shit!” Balak exclaimed and rushed out of the cave to find Arda.

  “Arda! Give me your shawl.”

  “What?”

  Balak grabbed it from Arda and threw it in the fire she had built.

  “What has gotten into you?” Arda protested.

  “Remember the image in the cave? That creature looked twice as big as me and the one we killed barely matched your size.”

  “Then it must have been exaggerated.” Arda grew agitated.

  “What if the images in the cave are right? The dead deer. It was a warning. The beast was defending its turf and offspring. We didn’t kill the beast. We killed its child,” Balak said.

  There was a painful howl close by and Arda looked up.

  “You are right,” she told him. Her eyes widened and her skin turned pale. Even Balak felt shivers all over his body.

  He tossed his tunic in the cold fire, leaving him naked from the waist up. Arda quickly grabbed a spare shawl from her satchel and then strapped the child to her and grabbed her bag.

  “We have to warn them,” she continued.

  Balak growled at the Gobelisks to mimic the beast, but they simply looked at him with a blank stare.

  “They are afraid of you,” Arda said. “They can’t understand you.”

  “This is pointless. Arda, we have no time for this,” Balak stated.

  “I have an idea.” Arda grabbed her spear, closed her eyes and started to utter some strange words. Balak looked around, uncomfortably.

  “You’d better take a deep breath,” she warned Balak.

  A strange mist shot from her staff and filled the air. It smelled stale and mossy. The Gobelisks stopped in their tracks and started to run around, gathering their young, their weapons.

  They waved to Balak and Arda, who followed them, and all began running. The roars got closer but the Gobelisks led Balak and Arda up a tree and onto a hidden platform.

  A massive horned creature entered the village below. They could not see the beast but they could feel its weight by the shake of the earth and its loud roar. The beast dug up their soil and thrashed around in their village before turning and heading away, deeper into the forest.

  The Gobelisks led Balak and Arda back down and all looked around their village. One held Arda’s hand.

  “If they hadn’t tried to hide us, they may never have been found,” Balak said.

  “Or maybe they would’ve and wouldn’t have had the warning,” Arda replied.

  Balak and Arda followed the creatures for some time through a part of the forest that they had never seen before. The trees looked dark brown and gray, and they were twisted. Some even looked like they had faces.

  “We need to get back on our own path and work out where we are,” Balak said to Arda, but the creature in front with the large brown spot on his hat kept waving them on to follow him.

  Arda looked around cautiously. She could see a pale dusting of blue and pink swirls in front of them, glistening in the sun.

  “Balak . . . I think . . . Look!”

  Balak looked at the blue mist and pink swirls at the forest’s edge. The Gobelisks stopped and pointed the way.

  Arda crouched down. “Thank you!” she said and she gently bowed her head. They all bowed their heads to Balak and Arda before disappearing out of sight.

  Arda burst into a small chuckle.

  Balak looked at her confused. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “This is the second time we were saved by mushrooms.”

  “Yeah, I guess this is kind of funny. So, you still believe in prophecies?” Balak asked.

  Arda stood in silence.

  “That’s fine, girl. We all make mistakes. Now lead us out of this place.”

  “Us? I thought there wouldn’t be us anymore.” She grinned at him.

  Balak had no reply.

  “There goes that smell again,” Balak groaned

  “No. This one is different.”

  There was a sugary citrus smell and the line of Gobelisks fled back into the forest.

  — CHAPTER FOURTEEN —

  In the Grip

  A yellow beam flickered through the leaves as the forest’s canopy thinned out. Balak narrowed his eyes. The sun was high in the sky and no matter which direction he turned, its rays blasted against his eyelids.

  Balak shivered and pulled his fur cloak onto his shoulders. He breathed heavily and a puff of white steam formed a cloud, escaping from his mouth and rising up into the air. He rubbed his hands together and sighed.

  He stretched out a finger and pointed west. Arda followed the direction of Balak’s arm with her eyes and she noticed the peaks of a gray structure in the distance.

  “It seems our journey’s almost at an end,” she indicated, curling her lips to one side.

  Only open fields of green and gold stood between the travelers and their destination. There were no trees or mountains to hide in now, they were unprotected. Exposed. Arda’s teeth began to chatter uncontrollably.

  “We should make it before nightfall.” Balak started walking over the crisp green grass and towards their destination.

  “Let’s hope we have enough time. The assassin could soon be hot on our trail.”

  “We should move fast,” Balak agreed.

  Arda shuffled her feet and pushed through the icy blades of grass. She pulled her hood up over her ears and draped the furs she’d been using as a blanket for the duration of their journey over her shoulders.

  Arda screwed up her nose. The furs smelled of foist, as if they’d been soaked and unable to dry. Regardless, she tied the ribbon around her neck and tugged it across her front to keep the child warm.

  They walked for several hours across open fields without seeing a soul. At last, they approached some fields of crops and a small compound of goats and chickens. They passed a small farmhouse and Arda exchanged some coin for some bread and a small piece of white cheese. The farmer’s wife invited them in for a warm drink and some soup. Balak thanked her but refused.

  “We have a long journey ahead,” Balak told her.

  Arda thanked the farmer and his wife for their kindness. The two set off again across the open fields.

  “I want to make as much ground as possible,” he told Arda. “Looks like a storm is brewing.”

  As they continued to travel, the day became overcast. Darkened clouds filled the sky. A few large, icy droplets splashed Balak’s cheek, and a few minutes later there were more. Although the rainfall was sparse, the drops were harsh and heavy, causing a tingling sensation on the skin.

  The chilly breeze grew in strength and pushed against them as they walked towards the dreary structure. Arda’s cheeks were pink and she was breathing heavily.
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br />   “There’s a path that leads us down to Iron Gates just up here.” Balak gasped.

  “Good.” That was all Arda could muster. Her feet felt heavy and raw. She turned her head to the left and over her shoulder. They’d walked for miles and even the farmhouse was nowhere in sight now.

  It was almost sundown as they reached the shelter of a few trees and bushes at the top of the incline.

  Arda skipped forward with a smile, but it soon faded as Balak grabbed her arm with a tightened grip. Her eyes judged his face and she followed his line of sight.

  “We are too late. It’s surrounded,” she gasped. “How are we going to get inside?”

  At the foot of the incline, a large army of men were building fires and setting up their camp, surrounding the whitewashed castle.

  “Late? It looks like they’ve just gotten here. The fun’s yet to begin,” Balak whispered.

  “Fun is not really the word I would use.”

  “That was a joke. I don’t think you understand my sense of humour.”

  “To be honest, I don’t think you have a sense of humour. What should we do?”

  “We should wait it out.”

  “Out here! We’ll be much safer inside. Besides, who knows who is prowling around here. This is about to be a battleground and we certainly don’t want to be caught in the crossfire.”

  “And yet the Iron Gates Castle is said to be impenetrable.”

  Arda protested. “And what if that assassin catches up with us again. There’s no question that we will be safer inside. The only questions we should be addressing right now are how and when to get inside.”

  The two fell silent and rain began to fall heavily. It lashed the ground in front of them and the leaves above their head. They crouched down and squeezed between some bushes as thunder rolled through the sky above them, displaying the occasional flickering of blue.

  Arda sat under the protection of a large bush to feed the child milk and then changed her. Balak sat beside her. She pulled out the bread and cheese and offered Balak half. He shovelled it into his mouth before she had even broken her bread. She tipped the dregs of her water flask into her mouth before eating her portion. The bread was dry now, and quite crisp to bite. The cheese was strong and bitter, but she quite liked it as it reminded her of being home in the castle.

  Balak drank some water from his own flask before offering it to Arda.

  “Thank you.” She gulped down the water to rinse down the dry bread.

  Balak rose to his feet. “Any idea if there’s another way in? Other than through the gates, I mean?” he asked.

  “No, not that I know of.”

  “Stay here and rest. I’ll scope it out.”

  The light was fading fast. Most of the sun was gone and what remained was glowing a dull orange. Balak hurried out of sight, just below the peak of the incline. He scanned the castle’s surroundings, but the invading army was everywhere, erecting tents and constructing siege ladders, towers, battering rams, and trebuchets.

  Balak scrambled closer, remaining out of sight. Soldiers stood guard at every point, next to large, green tents.

  Balak slowly climbed up the incline, trying to stay out of sight. Getting back was much trickier but he hurried back to Arda, as fast as he possibly could.

  “It’s impossible. They are constructing their war equipment. I don’t like this, Arda. I don’t wanna be in there when the trebuchet starts firing,” he told her.

  “Balak, we must try. Is the only way in through the front gates?”

  “Yes! But how do you expect to make it through the enemy camp alive? We’ll be slaughtered!” Balak snapped.

  “If you can get us there, I know King Anzor will helps us. In fact, people call him King Anzor the Noble.”

  “And did he give himself that nickname?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t know. So, is sitting here, waiting to be picked off by either a bounty hunter or a soldier any better? Besides, I heard they serve the best ale in all of Tartaurus . . .”

  “. . . the one that makes you go blind. Yeah, so I’ve been told . . . Fine.” Balak scowled.

  Arda grinned, relishing this small victory. The thick impenetrable walls were a safe bet, but Balak was not convinced they could get inside without being noticed.

  “We’ll move under the black of the night, when most of them are sleeping. Then we’ll only have the night guard to deal with,”Balak said. Arda settled down and took her rest. Balak sipped water and watched the camp. The camp was loud for the first part of the night, but then it quieted. The night guards stayed focussed and manned their posts.

  Balak waited until there were just a few watchmen remaining and one man tending the fire before waking Arda. “Arda, we need to move. Follow me.”

  He led Arda down through the bushes and into the enemy camp. The stench of stale ale and smoke filled the camp. Arda made certain the child’s face was covered as they slowly headed between tents and the loud snores of men.

  They crept from one tent to the next in silence. They took each step slowly and cautiously as they weaved their way through the camp. Balak halted suddenly and looked from side to side.

  “Are we lost?” Arda whispered.

  “Just give me a moment.” He looked around. “The gates are over there, but we need to make it to the wall unnoticed, then move along to the entrance. This way.” He pointed.

  He stepped backwards, but as he turned, his foot struck a stockpile of long sticks that were leaning against one of the tents, causing them to fall.

  “Shit!”

  “Over there!” he heard a guard shout as several footsteps padded towards them. “Guard the General.”

  “Stay low.” He grabbed Arda’s arm and ran alongside a tent.

  The quickened footsteps got closer. Balak listened. One, two, four, seven.

  “There’s eight men coming.” He looked inside an empty tent. It was filled only with logs for the fire.

  “In here.” They headed to the back and crouched down, trying to hide behind the firewood.

  “Something ran over there. There was a shadow! Assassin, I think,” he heard one of the men yell.

  “Check in there,” commanded another.

  A soldier entered the tent and looked around. Balak was poised with his axe, ready to strike.

  The soldier spotted Balak first, then he looked across to Arda. He was young and his sword hand shook. He took a step backwards rather than forwards. His eyes widened but he did not raise the alarm. Arda waved at Balak to lower his axe.

  “Stand down,” she whispered.

  The pale soldier stared at her and she smiled. She looked down and realised the child was exposed.

  “Please!” she whispered. “Just leave and we will too.”

  He nodded once and started to take steps back towards the curtain. His eyes remain fixated in Balak’s direction. Another soldier opened the curtain.

  “Well?”

  “Nothing in here but firewood.” He closed the curtain slowly. “Maybe it was just an animal,” he suggested to the others.

  They waited a while, until the footsteps disappeared in the distance. Arda sighed and blew a wisp of hair that had been tickling her nose.

  Balak crept to the door and peered out before summoning Arda.

  “Let’s get out of here. That was too close.”

  Balak and Arda stayed slow and silent as they headed for the wall. They gently shuffled their feet along and moved carefully. They stayed low as they edged along unnoticed.

  The child began to squirm and cough. Arda bounced and shushed her. “She’s getting hungry,” Arda warned.

  “Keep her quiet. We’re almost there.”

  They edged along the walls with watchmen only several feet away. They were but a few yards from the entrance when the child began to cry.

  At first, they stood still, as the watchmen started to look around at the sound.

  “Calm her down,” Balak muttered through gritted teeth.

  “
I can’t,” Arda said, looking panicked.

  “They’re looking in our direction. Can’t you use magic?”

  Arda narrowed her eyes and stared at Balak.

  “I already told you that magic doesn’t work on blue bloods. We will have to run.”

  Arda managed to calm the child with some milk, but the hunt was on.

  “She’s still thirsty, Balak. Think fast! What do we do?”

  Guards had started gathering outside. Some were saying the noise was coming from inside the castle, while others were searching outside the walls. The disturbance caught the attention of the soldiers inside the castle too and they started to look down from the walls.

  Balak noticed some rocks on the ground and he picked them up.

  “As soon as I throw these, we run for the gates.”

  “What if they don’t let us in?”

  “Let’s just hope they do.”

  One of the guards above in the castle had spotted them and readied the archers. Balak and Arda could see them, pulling arrows from their quivers and loading their bows, ready to strike.

  Balak had to make a move; it was only a matter of time before the enemy soldiers noticed them too. Balak stretched his arm out behind him and swung his hand over his shoulder. He launched the rocks as far as he could.

  The rocks flew through the air and went crashing down just behind one of the tents.

  “Over there,” one of the soldiers shouted, and they all ran in twos towards the sound. Balak and Arda made their move and ran towards the entrance to the Iron Gates.

  It didn’t take long for one of the remaining soldiers in the camp to notice the shadowy figures running towards the gate.

  He blew a horn that echoed through the camp. Soldiers started to rise out of bed, and they lit their torches. As the lights grew brighter, Arda and Balak were exposed by their orange glow.

  “This way. Don’t let them get away!” the soldier yelled.

  The soldiers started closing in. Those from the camp moved closer to the wall, and the others changed direction and started to charge in Balak and Arda’s direction.

  “Help us!” Arda yelled to the soldiers in the Iron Gates castle. “We seek refuge.”

  The soldiers were gaining on them as Balak and Arda arrived at the gates.

 

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