by Lee LaCroix
“I’m sure,” Behn commented, rolling his eyes.
“The turnout is looking good. What do you think?” Garreth greeted.
“As good as it can be. Some elders only left Southbriar this morning, so their soldiers might not even join the battle till later in the day. It’s a good start though. Lord Cross is stationed at the road, guiding people to us now. He shouldn’t be too much longer,” Behn explained.
“Very well. Let us wait,” Garreth insisted as he took a seat on a fallen trunk and stared out over the men and women who had gathered.
Conversation was just as light as it should be for a hidden forest rendezvous. Divided by their hometowns and their respective social circles, the soldiers were split into small groups. Their dress was different than the homogeneity of the second-hand armour of the courtyard, for some were dressed in the regalia of their families that featured tabards and vestments emblazoned with dark ravens, golden stags, or earthy boars. It pleased Garreth to see three guardsmen, each men of age as himself, wearing the tan tabard of the original Crown Aegis. Old habits die hard, he thought. There came a frenzied conversation from the woods, and Lord Cross followed with it. At noticing the arrival of Garreth and Novas, he shushed his companions, urged them away, and then moved to converse with Garreth and company.
“You have arrived at last. Our preparations are nearly complete,” Lord Cross explained.
“Better late than never,” Garreth stated as he stood up from his seat.
“Indeed. The last few bodies should be along soon. I’ve left a scout at the road to direct the stragglers to the field of battle after we depart,” Lord Cross continued.
Garreth nodded in affirmation, and then his attention was drawn to the chorus of moaning and groaning that rose up behind them. A group of four men seemed to be carrying something, which did not become apparent until they broke the nearest ring of trees.
“Mose saw our hurried exodus and had no doubts we would need it again.” Lord Cross stated as the men gasped and dropped the tool of war nearby.
Garreth moved towards the object and studied it, for he was not privy to view it while he was stuck in the Trade District for the majority of the upheaval.
“This is the ram they used to break down the Lower Quarter gate.” Novas explained.
Garreth ran his hand along its length. The siege instrument featured a smoothed wooden trunk, which was fortified with seven iron rings that were locked tight to its structure. All but the outer two rings had iron grips on each side for a total of ten men to use it. The rest of the soldiers saw the ram from afar, and their conversation jumped in tone from anxiety to excitement; perhaps an assault of the city was not as hopeless as they assumed, they jested.
“Let us begin,” Lord Cross suggested and stared at Garreth.
Garreth rolled his eyes before he unsheathed his sword, pointed it skyward, and then made his way to the top of a fallen tree trunk.
“Some of you were privy to the words I spoke the night before, and some of you were not. But let me tell you the same reason that brought you here is the same reason that I stand before you now. And the same call to action that has led you to stand before me is that same that has called to me to lead you forth. Trust in the words that brought you here. Trust in my voice as I lead you forth, and we will not go astray but will find the victory we are fighting for!” Garreth shouted, ending his speech and leaping off the log.
The crowd responded with a chorus of cheers and swords slapping against shields, and they followed Garreth as he led them out of the ravine in the forest. After they made their way to the border of the forest, Garreth stopped the troops to begin formations. He began by identifying Behn.
“Behn will be the frontline anchor. Keep your eye on this large man and do not pass his offensive position. I want shieldsmen to protect his sides and fortify his back, and I want swordsmen behind them to slay the overeager,” Garreth exclaimed.
“Once we break the gate, it’s possible we will meet with the highest contention of melee combat. Remember to remain in formation. Do not strike out rashly and protect the flanks of your allies. Let us depart!” Garreth concluded with a yell and raised his sword again, pointing it towards the city.
The renewed rebel army marched out of the forest with Behn at the head. The blood red tabard of the new Crown Aegis waved in the wind like a flag of war. Beside him were two lines of sword-and-shield bearing warriors, and the ram was carried by ten of the strongest amongst them behind him. The ram itself was surrounded by the largest group of soldiers, the swordsmen. Garreth and Novas followed behind with a unit of archers that was primarily made up of seasoned hunters from all across Malquia. Lord Cross and his son waited with the present elders and councillors on the edge of the nearby forest to watch the battle unfold.
As the Queen’s Aegis at the northwestern gate came into range of Garreth’s bowfire, they retreated inside, and the gate swung shut. It was impossible not to hear the thick barricades, plated with wide bars of iron, drop behind the solid wooden gate. The men carrying the ram hurried as fast as they could to the gate and were guarded by Behn and his troops. Garreth set up his squad behind the bushes and trees beside the city’s bordering road, and they waited for the battle to begin. Behn gave the signal. The first of the heavy smashes resounded against the gate and rang out across the city. The ram had not yet struck the gate a third time before a hail of arrows began to fall from the top of the Amatharsan walls.
“Shieldsmen, protect the ram! Behn, swordsmen, fall back! Archers, intercept!” Garreth announced.
The shieldbearers huddled beside the ramsmen and lifted their shields to the sky, creating a bulwark of protection. Garreth grit his teeth as some of the swordsmen did not break the shelter of the roadside and were pierced by Blackwoods archers in their escape. He did not have time for doubts though, and he primed an arrow in his bow and let it fly, striking a Blackwoods archer in the chest.
The Blackwoods suffered only a few causalities before their archers became more cautious and began to spring up from the wall, fire quickly, and duck down again before they could be fired on in return. The defense of the ramsmen continued, and all ten men still remained even past the brunt of the surprise attack.
The high-pitched cracking of splitting timber began to be heard. Eyrn and Behn kept a sharp eye on the road north and south of their position, waited for the anticipated flank of Queen’s Aegis, and then waited some more. The Blackwoods archers changed their tactics soon after. They no longer targeted the ramsmen securely defended by the shieldbearers, but aimed across the road to the archers and swordsmen in wait. However, the ditch near to the road was deep enough for the Crown Aegis to stay covered as they stretched out lying, hip to hip. The few rebel archers that found trees to hide behind played a cat and mouse game with their Blackwoods counterparts; they carefully peered out from the side and looked to find a target to unleash their barrage upon while remaining careful of opening themselves up to be struck as well.
The time seemed to move slowly as the northwestern gate continued to splinter away to nothing, the fortifications breaking one after the other. Eventually, the final support of the gate was broken, and they all could see through to the other side. As soon as the barricade split in two, the gate opened and swung inwards. A loud yell was heard as the shining wave of the Queen’s Aegis charged in.
“Shieldsmen, shields up! Swordsmen, forward! Archers, cover fire!” Garreth yelled out and then released an arrow.
The Queen’s Aegis had broken the line of shieldsmen before Behn and the swordsmen moved forward to reinforce them. The initial melee took place underneath the bordering wall of Amatharsus, covering the soldiers below from falling arrows. Any Queen’s Aegis that had charged too far were eventually cut down by the surrounding swordsmen and overwhelmed after being isolated by the shieldsmen’s sturdy line of defense. Regardless, the Queen’s Aegis, just as innumerable as the terrible fight in the Trade District, held their side of the defense and gave the
rebels little ground.
When the rebels reorganized their original formation, they finally had a chance to push inwards. Behn was finishing the last of the Queen’s Aegis that had made their way past the defensive line when he turned to see a group of three of the large soldiers muscle their way through, pushing aside the lighter shield-bearers. Behn turned and charged them, dragging his massive sword behind him. The blade’s edge tapped the ground as he sped and kicked up a brief flare of sparks. Behn pulled his sword upwards and connected with one of the steel knights, smashing the base of their helmet, brutalizing the chin, snapping the neck backwards, and breaking the spine. As the sword continued behind Behn, he lifted the blade from behind him and brought it down upon the guard’s chest, caving in the plate armour entirely. As Behn’s allies saw his power, the shieldbearers did as they were instructed and moved forward at his side. The Queen’s Aegis continued to back away, unwilling to engage the hulking adversary, and the rebels moved forward. Once they were out of the shelter of the gate, the rebel forces were struck with a rain of arrows from behind, pinning down several unaware swordsmen and shieldbearers.
“Front ranks, move back! Hold the gate!” Behn yelled as he swiped at the Queen’s Aegis who rushed in for a counter attack.
Garreth watched from the roadside as Behn’s forces were stopped at the gate and grit his teeth once again. How could they push inside the city with the archers at their back? It would be impossible to get on top of the walls from the inside, Garreth surmised. He watched as more and more of his troops were cut down by his reckless leadership and short-sighted strategy, and Garreth lamented, wondering why he did not see this obvious trap before him. His breathing became heavy and he worried that another defeat was upon them. Only this time, it would be entirely his fault; the shame would be unbearable. A clap on Garreth’s shoulder broke him from those thoughts and sent him turning to his side.
“This was to be expected. Spending his time in the Upper Quarter, Lord Cross saw this coming before hand,” Eyrn explained as he waved up some troops from behind.
The newly arrived troops had rope coiled around their arms, and they dropped a three pronged hook at their sides. Garreth looked at the hook and instantly knew what Lord Cross had proposed.
“Go south, past the bend where the archers could see you. Get up there as fast as you can. Who knows how long Behn can hold out,” Garreth ordered and waved them away.
Eyrn nodded, set off south with a group of five archers, and weaved between trees and bushes before they sprinted across the road. Eyrn stood a ways from the battle and looked upwards at the wall.
“Aim for the corner between openings, it needs to snag tightly there,” Eyrn explained as he began to swing the hook around.
He backed up a few paces and let the hook swing into the air. It sailed over the face of the wall, and the rope snagged on the corner of the battlement. Eyrn tugged on the hook until the rope became taut.
“Well… continue! I’ll see you up there,” Eyrn called out as the hooks sailed over the wall.
Eyrn took the rope in his hands, made a running jump, and then stiffened his posture, landing with both feet on the wall. Step by step, Eyrn made his way up the wall as he pulled his weight with his arms and relieved the strain with his legs. He was not half way up before the two other lines had met their anchor. Before long, the six of them had hidden behind a curve in the wall and watched the Blackwoods archers fire down upon the rebels.
“Quick and quiet,” Eyrn explained before he snuck forth.
The first of the Blackwoods archers fell with a scream after being sliced by Eyrn’s sword. The other Blackwoods that turned in response were pierced by the rebel archers, covering Eyrn’s advance. As Eyrn made a swift sprint forward to engage the next archer, the arrows of his allies flew past him and found their marks. Shortly after, the walls of the capital were clear, and Eyrn waved down to Garreth to indicate they had succeeded.
“I want five more archers on the wall to cover us from above. The rest will move forward to the gate to support the offensive unit,” Garreth yelled as he moved out of the ditch.
The two hunters shouldered their bows and unsheathed their swords as they moved forward.
“Forward, Behn! Have no fear!” Garreth shouted.
“Fear? Fear! Do I look afraid!” Behn yelled.
More of a threat to Queen’s Aegis than a response to his ally, Behn stepped forward with a swift downwards strike. With Garreth and Novas at his side, Behn reached out at the Queen’s Aegis with fury and might. Without the assistance of their own archers, the Queen’s Aegis crumpled under the combined might of the foot soldiers and newly positioned bowmen. Garreth called down the archers on the wall as the last of the Queen’s Aegis retreated inwards into the city and then turned towards the Royal Palace.
“Reform! Rest a moment and find your breath and your strength. The worst is over, I hope, but no one can be sure!” Garreth called out as the last of the archers joined them.
Together, the reformed units of the rebel army moved down Brightsbend Way in a careful march. As they past the Cross manor, they kept their eyes on every roof and every window and were careful of any traps. They came to the intersection, looked north, and saw the open gates of the Royal Palace where the remainder of the Queen’s Aegis were lined up in formation along the palace steps.
“Behn, I need you to lead the troops forward. Novas and I must find Berault before something far more rash is done to him. Fight bravely and let us end this terrible period of Amatharsan history,” Garreth commanded.
Behn nodded, raised his giant sword aloft, and turned to look over every man and woman. As he pointed his blade forth, the rebel army marched onwards.
“Come on, Novas,” Garreth called to his son, and the two took off from the intersection, making their way west to the dungeon.
Garreth stopped at the mouth of the shady sidestreet that led to the ominous door at its end, and recalled frenzied battle he had there with the formidable Queen’s Aegis, all in order to liberate Kayten from its shadowy depths. Garreth prayed that Berault would be more lucky, but something in his gut told him otherwise.
Garreth and Novas took off down the sidestreet, appeared at the door to the dungeon, and swung it aside. Those waiting in the narrow reception area stood and covered their eyes to adjust to the flood of light that had entered the room. Garreth let his vision wander over the dungeonmaster, two other Blackwoods thugs, and a person of distinct finery. Novas, however, stared the well-dressed man down and recognized him immediately. The firelight swept across the man’s slicked hair as he turned to face Novas, and his goatee looked as sharp as the sword that he freed from his belt.
“They must not reach the prisoner,” the Blackwoods captain demanded, pointing his sword towards the two hunters before pacing behind the ranks of his allies.
As every step brought Berault’s doom closer, Garreth stepped forward with his raised sword before it was too late. The Blackwoods thug on the right withdrew his sword and deflected Garreth’s overhead strike, digging both blades into the table.
“Think you’ll get the best of me, again? Just try it!” the dungeonmaster screamed as he lifted up his two-handed hammer and threw his weight behind it, smashing the table asunder.
Garreth paced to the side as a splintered board flew past him, and he sized up his enemies. With one strong and two agile, he made his plans with care.
“Go, Novas. Follow him and find Berault,” Garreth told his son before striking the sword’s edge into the wall’s torch, spilling fiery ashes across the room and searing the broken table.
Before all the sparks had fallen, Novas had sprinted towards the foes, deflected away a thug’s blade with his sword, and rushed to descend the stairwell. In his moment of distraction, the thug recoiled as Garreth’s blade was drawn across his chest and fell back against the wall. Garreth’s sword continued upwards, and stopped the arcing blade of the other thug as it careened towards the hunter. Garreth felt the weight
of dungeonmaster’s hammer rush by him as he kicked the thug away and slammed into the wall. Garreth’s breath seethed between his teeth as he glared at the two remaining, and he stepped forward once again.
Garreth delivered an easily deflected blow to the thug that turned Garreth’s blade to the left. As he expected, Garreth watched the dungeonmaster step forward to catch him off guard, and Garreth leapt back as the hammer fell where he was standing. Before the dungeonmaster could pick his hammer from the floor, Garreth drove his blade into his meaty neck. Putting the bloated corpse between them, Garreth stared at the thug again. When he saw the bloodshed around him, the thug dropped his sword and stood relaxed and weary with defeat, and Garreth pointed his outstretched sword at him. The point of Garreth’s sword followed the man. The thug lifted his wounded ally from the floor and shouldered his comrade’s weight as they trudged out the dungeon door. As their steps faded below the crackling of the torches and the distant clamour of voices outside, Garreth wondered if the bloodied streets would show them the same mercy.
A distasteful musk pervaded Novas’ nostrils as he plunged down step after step into the depths of the shadowy dungeon. As Novas raced through the narrow hallways of blunted tile, the echoes of his heavy footsteps rose up around him and deafened him to the prisoner’s protest. Novas beheld only dark and varying degrees of the brown of stone, black of dirt, and orange-red of torch flame as the lengths of the dungeon seemed to grow longer the further he descended.
Novas heard a dull grind on the rusting lock before he glimpsed the pristine white and the key that he held. The hunter did not stop his sprint, unwilling to let the Blackwoods do any more harm to Berault. The captain’s raised elbow blocked the sight of the sword tucked against the hip. Shimmering like hot coals, the oiled blade appeared in the torchlight. Novas took a sharp breath as he recognized the hornet’s sting and set a heavy foot in front to change his direction. The Blackwood’s blade caught the tough thickness of Novas’ leather vest and spun him about, sending him careening into a wall where he caught his balance.