He looked up straining to break free, but realised their grips were too strong and unyielding.
He looked at his companions and grinned a warm beam. It was the first time they’d seen him smile.
“It’s been a pleasure. Now go…” He pulled the rock entrance closed, and as he did they saw his limbs stiffen and his eyes fade and turn grey. He turned to stone and blocked the gap, preventing the wraiths from escaping.
Aksel cursed, “We’ll mourn him later.” He whistled and the two horses cantered over. “Where to now…?”
“Windfell Woods. Like the wind!” said the Princess.
And with a ‘Heyaahh!’ they kicked the two chargers forward.
*
They took it in turns to dig the graves. Forty in total.
Aron paused and leant on the spade. The hole was up to his chest. “Should be enough.” He tossed the shovel to one side, held out his hand and Aland grabbed his forearm and hoisted him up.
“We lost too many men. They outsmarted us. Basically, the supply train was just a decoy for the Janshai following behind. All they needed to do was hang back and wait for the sounds of engagement and then come charging. If it was not for our bowmen the losses would have been even greater.”
“We got lucky. We need to be smarter in the future and anticipate the unexpected.”
“Agreed. But the men took a large number of the Horde and Janshai with them and snatched more supplies. By such margins battles are won,” said Aland.
They took hold of the body wrapped in a white cloth and lowered it into the grave. Aron placed the soldier’s sword in his hands across his chest, they filled the hole and settled a stone with the guard’s name etched on it at the head of the grave.
“Dolfin Cardon. Rest at ease you have served your King and realm well. Sleep in peace.”
The act was repeated down the line for all forty of the guard.
The men sat resting bare-chested, cooling from the toil of digging the graves, when the shout was heard.
Aron looked up to the lookout perched in the tree who coordinated the communications from the camp perimeter. He pointed to the east with an open palm. And signalled ‘Two hundred and fifty Janshai horsemen’.
Aron unsheathed his sword. “Man the defences!”
“Sire,” shouted the lookout. “West! Sire. Two hundred more.”
“Four hundred and fifty Janshai horsemen. Aland get the men to their positions. I fear we may have led them directly to our camp. We are fools. The whole ambush was a decoy so that we’d lead them straight here.
“Well men, if it’s a fight they want it’s a fight they’ll get. Guards, man the defences. Bowmen to the trees. Stand fast and stand strong. Troth to the Realms.”
“Troth to the Realms!” went out the cry.
*
The Janshai commander blew his horn and the horsemen started a walk into the woods, then kicked into a canter before finally reaching a full charge. The Janshai howled as they urged their stallions on. Yawing left and right to avoid the trees. The thudding sound of the hooves reverberated through the forest causing the earth and litter on the ground to shake.
The Terramians stood with their backs to the trunks watching and waiting. The first riders in sight were brought down by the archers. Others pitched into covered pits with sharpened stakes at the bottom impaling both horseman and stallion alike. As the chargers passed the trees the guards would leap on them and unseat the Janshai, pulling them to the ground and finishing them off with their daggers. Or simply timing the swinging of an axe and a hammer to cleave a rider from his mount.
The defences were robust and slowed the charge. But the Janshai had numbers and once in combat the mobility and strength of the horses handed them the advantage. Riders responded with their crossbows sending Terramian bowmen crashing through the branches of the trees and thudding to the ground. They used spears to stab and impale the infantry. With horsemen approaching from the east and west the Terramians were exposed from both sides, and after the initial charge were unable to find any cover.
At the same time the Janshai circled in a wide arc around the camp. If the infantry broke cover the horsemen would bear down on them and slash them with their blades before they could escape the fringes of the fighting.
If anything, the Janshai were slowly squeezing the boundaries of the assault, driving the Terramians together and picking them off more easily as they clustered.
“We’ve got to do something else we’ll be slaughtered to the last man,” shouted Aland.
Aron looked at him desperately. “What?”
“The convent, we can take cover there.”
“To me, to me! Retreat to the convent. Half a league to the north.”
The men rallied to their Prince. They broke the perimeter and dashed through the woods. The convent was on a slight hill so the men had to sometimes push on all fours up the slope to propel themselves forward. The Janshai realised what was happening and swung their horses round and chased them down. One or two of the wounded or the slower soldiers were cut down from behind but many made it to the convent.
“Bowmen fire a volley. Warn them not to get too close then save your arrows.”
The Prince sat with his back to the wall beneath the window. Gulping in air trying to get his heart to stop pounding.
“Sergeant get me a count. Five minutes.”
A cry was heard, “Man incoming!”
The Prince looked out of the window. Aland was stumbling towards the entrance.
“Run!” someone shouted.
“Aland, run!”
“Bowmen give him cover!” Aron yelled.
Then just over the ridge a horseman rose into view and surged upon Aland bearing down on him. “Bring him down!” screamed the Prince, but a couple of arrows fizzed past him missing their target.
The horseman was swinging an axe in his fist and drew upon Aland. But as he swung Aland tripped and pitched forward. The axe swinging over his head by inches. The Janshai pulled his horse up again, but Aron had broken cover. He grabbed Aland by the shoulders of his tunic and heaved him up and they both stumbled into the convent. Safe for the moment.
*
Commander Favian was once again studying the map when the Queen stepped into the pavilion. “We’ll hit them simultaneously at three spots along their lines just before dawn. It will make them think they are coming under a broader assault and cause more confusion. It may also mean they are less likely to advance in pursuit from their formations as our forces withdraw.”
The most southern of the Windstrom units crawled slowly along the floor of the forest canopy. They wore light leather armour rather than the usual stiff plating. It allowed them to be more agile through the woods and limber as they circumnavigated the Horde defences. The lighter clothing also reduced the likelihood of excessive sweating and dehydration especially in case of a rapid retreat.
They had short-sheathed swords attached to their backs by a strap across their shoulders. Their blades were therefore readily available and unlikely to get caught underneath them in tree roots and other obstructions that could snag at them. Approaching from the forest gave them an advantage. The density of the forest meant that it reduced the time by which they were detected and also limited the range of fire of the Horde. Archers would be unlikely to release their arrows before the Windstrom forces fell upon them.
The captain looked ahead. He could just make out the sharp spiked stake defences. Shadows patrolled up and down the formation, and voices drifted from the Horde guards within the perimeter. He could not see the full length of his unit, but that did not matter. He passed the orders by hand signal and he was confident they were relayed accurately down the lines.
He crawled on further, wriggled through the stakes and paused at the other side. A sentry strode towards him as he lay flat, hugging the ground, bur
ying his face into the mud. The guard stood directly ahead of him. He was smoking and the smell of the tobacco filled the air.
The captain slowly pulled himself up, withdrew his dagger from his waist and simultaneously grabbed the sentry by the mouth and sliced his knife through his side and up into his chest. The guard struggled briefly and then slumped. The captain lowered him gently to the ground. They covered a hundred yards silently moving forward. Soundlessly killing. If they were discovered or a cry was heard they would fight for two minutes striding to the front, killing anything in their path. Then the timekeepers would give a signal and they would retreat at pace back through the woods.
The forest conditions made the tactics more primitive. It was infantry against infantry, man to man. It could become messy, but the Windstrom infantry set clear expectations, and were orchestrated; everybody knew their role and would follow their orders. The success of the mission was dependent on working together, not giving into the panic of the combat, subduing the instinct for self-preservation.
A cry went up perhaps half a mile down the line, a unit was discovered. You could sense the collective tensing of everyone in the area. That was the signal for the second stage. A huge roar went up as the Windstrom leapt to their feet and charged forward with ferocity of impact to cause the maximum damage. Shoulder to shoulder they pressed on in a line, cutting and thrusting into anything in front of them.
Some Horde engaged them, but most stumbled backwards disorganised and instantly overwhelmed. Such was the thrust that it was almost impossible for the Horde to sustain any retaliatory action. The Windstrom forces surged ahead in unison and kept their eyes fixed on the Horde, at the same time instinctively aligning themselves so they did not huddle together or fan apart, undermining the effectiveness of the charge.
It was intense, the captain could feel his muscles in his arm and shoulder burning with the exertion of constantly swinging his blade.
The call went out. The Windstrom broke off the engagement as the Horde was still retreating. They backed away at pace, mindful of a Horde advance. But it did not come. In fact, both sets of troops continued to retreat. The Windstrom traced their way back through the outer defences and then melted back into the woods. They then turned and jogged in an organised retreat again still in the line.
They took distance markers to ensure they headed in the right direction and checked against local markers on the trunks of trees. A bended branch, a broken twig or moss marker guided them back to their main force by the planned route. On the advance through the woods they had sawn off the lower branches of trees and shrubs to the level of a man. There was no need to duck and dive during the retreat.
An hour later they burst from the forest into the Windstrom camp.
*
Vane strode through the east flank with his generals. “Three hundred men lost and not one casualty on the side of the Windstrom.”
“We think they took their dead and wounded into the woods with them.”
“Really? How big a force were they?”
“We don’t know, they were just suddenly among us like demons out of thin air. The next we knew they were gone and just disappeared back into the forest.”
Vane shook his head.
“Strengthen the armaments on the flanks and double the guard. We can’t afford to lose any more men before the battle even starts.
“Who was in charge of our defences?”
“General Berolt, my Lord.”
“Stick his head on a spike and dig it in next to Armanar. Let’s make it very clear what the penalty for failure is.
“And release the beasts into the woods.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, all of them.
“Let’s make them think twice of sneaking up on us again.”
*
They slowed by a small eddy that they’d stopped at previously when they first entered the Borna Fault. Aksel went foraging for food while Fayette and Leo unsaddled the horses and washed the sweat off the chargers while they waded in the pool. Steam radiated off their hot twitching muscles. They left them to graze and drink and returned to the rocky outcrop, which gave them some shelter, and rested against the rocks.
“Can I have a look at the totem?” asked Leo.
The Princess unwrapped it from her cloak and handed it to him. He balanced it in his hands. “It’s heavier and denser than I thought it would be.” He stroked his fingers across the sun’s rays carved into the side of the totem and a shimmering light rippled along the surface.
“It’s not a reflection. It’s an energy from within that gets drawn to the surface. I wonder if we can use it to ignite the crystal.”
“Fayette can I have Daylon’s markings?”
“Fayette? Not Princess anymore. Or Your Majesty. That’s awfully presumptuous for a commoner, Leo.”
“Apologies,” blushed Leo “I… I… It’s just that we’ve been through so much. I thought we were friends.”
The Princess laughed at him. Stopped, looked at the horror on his face again and then laughed some more.
Leo tutted and took the strip of leather. He stood up and with the base of his staff made the markings and symbols in the dust. First a large circle and then four smaller circles with the individual symbols of the Four Realms crafted inside. Fire. Water. Air. Earth. Leo removed the emerald crystal from the Staff of Talisien and sat cross-legged in the circle holding both the Alethea Totem and the crystal.
“Care to join me?”
The Princess nodded, stood up and sat next to Leo.
“Ready?” She smiled a little nervously and Leo recited the incantation:
“One can speak of the course of the stars,
One can speak of the vast creation,
Harness the power of the crystal,
Listen to the wisdom spoken,
Through my mind, and the breath of my mouth,
Grant me access to mine Ancient World.”
With a flash, tendrils of green light leapt out from the emerald crystal and surrounded them in a globe of emerald luminosity. Everything went bright green around them. The rocks and river faded beyond them and they were left suspended. Standing in the glow of the crystal.
Leo took the Princess’s hand, “Can you hear me?”
“Yes, now what?”
Leo held the crystal and melded his mind and the aura emanating of the gem. He thought of the Queen. The light shuddered around them and the green glow dulled to an opaque boundary. It grew translucent again and they materialised next to the Queen.
“Mother!” cried the Princess.
“I don’t think she can hear you. We can only see her. It looks like she’s with the Windstrom forces for now. I guess they may be nearing Ampheus.”
“Aron?”
Leo switched his thoughts again. The crystal chimed and merged with his mind. Aron was slumped against the wall of the convent. He looked exhausted. But he was sat next to Aland and they both smiled wryly at each other.
“It looks like they are trapped at the convent. Perhaps we could help them. I don’t know. Even if we push on it will take us three days to get there. That’s if the horses have the strength.”
“My father.”
Once more the image dimmed and reformed to manifest her father chained to the wooden pillar. Slumped and bedraggled.
Fayette gasped and placed her hand over her mouth, “Father!” she cried and instinctively reached out to touch him on the shoulder.
The King flinched and turned towards his daughter’s voice. His eyes widened in surprise.
“It cannot be!”
Leo was taken aback. “Sire you can sense us? We are using the crystal. We are in the Borna Fault. We have the Alethea Totem and are returning to Ampheus.”
“It is well. But be careful. If I can feel you, so can Vane.
“My daughter, do not despair. I still have strength and fortitude. The castle still stands and the men and myself stand as one. I suspect the final battle draws close. Do not fear for me or how this will end. Believe that hope and good will prevail.
“Your mother and brother?”
“As well as can be expected. They are both returning to Ampheus.”
“As it should be. Now go, make haste. Bring the totem to Ampheus. I have no doubt it has a role to play in defeating Vane.
“And my little elf. I love you.”
Leo drew them back away from the images and they re-emerged back at the riverbed. He was sweating from the strain.
“Are you alright?” he asked the Princess.
“Yes, thank you. I need a little time.” The Princess smiled, stepped away and slowly strolled along the riverbed.
Leo reattached the crystal to the staff and paused. He took the staff in one hand and the totem in the other. He scanned the surroundings and saw a large stone perhaps the size of a melon. He felt the two objects vibrate in his hands; their colours pulsed outwards from their cores. He drew the light up through his arms and into his body; they resonated and amplified within him, unseen to those around him. Then as the colours merged, he refocused them through the staff onto the stone. He steadily lifted it from the ground. He held it there, sustained it for a moment. Then he emitted a single pulse from the staff and the boulder shattered into pieces scattering at the base of the cliff. He smiled to himself.
“What was that?” asked Aksel as he returned.
“Just a rock falling from the cliff.” Muttered Leo caught off guard by the Janshai’s approach.
Aksel grimaced, “We need to be careful.” Then he held up two catfish in his hands, “On the bright side we have fish for supper!” and smiled.
Chapter 21
The Convent
The Prince strode through the convent. He’d stop, have a short word with each of the men, giving encouragement where he could. Aland and a sergeant had been sitting on the ground across a corridor chatting when he approached. They got to their feet. “So?”
Dryw Henge Page 25