Infinite Blue Heaven - A King and A Queen

by Lazlo Ferran

  I called his name but Arstan, confused in the noise and dust, was gone. The battle started to take on that dream like quality where time is slowed right down and sound seems so far away. Two of the men who had been behind me, dismounted and reached for me. I waved them away but they each held my under my armpits and lifted me to my feet. I managed to stand on the damaged leg, which I suspected was broken, but the pain was intense. One of them smiled at me though I did not recognise him. It was such a warm, gentle smile, it seemed quite out of place on the battlefield. He was trying to tell me something but I had to watch his lips as he repeated it. He pointed to my shoulder and as he moved his lips I could make out the word “Arrow”. I nodded. It would not be so bad, nothing to worry about now.

  He was also bleeding from his upper arm and his arm hung limp. They tried to lift me onto one of the horses but in the effort, the horse slipped and trotted away from us. The other followed. We started stumbling across the slope to where we could just make out the last of Zhuan’s men, still fighting. I had lost my sword but seeing a rider approaching, grinning with the intent to kill, I picked one up from the ground and swung at him. The other two did the same and he thought better of it and rode away. Eventually we reached the other soldier, who had sunk to his knees, having just defeated his opponent. He was exhausted and hardly seemed to acknowledge us.

  We were now the bottom most four men on this part of the field. Through the dust, to the east, I suddenly caught a glimpse of Yedigei’s men and could see a standard still flying there. This gave me hope and I tried to lift the man to his feet. The others helped me and we all looked around for where to go.

  I couldn’t quite understand how any of us had managed to escape the slaughter at the west wall but looking up the slope to where I guessed Abdil’khan was still fighting, I could see why. The horsemen, seeing we were almost defeated, had turned their attention to him and now I could see very few blue plumes in among the whirling arms and swords. They were not far from the wall though. If only Geb could get to them. We looked the other way, down the slope and could see only Yedigei’s men, between us and the rise. There were plenty of Korim’s men though, mostly still horsed. We could not go that way. Abdil was closer.

  I pointed up the slope. “That way!”

  We started to fight our way up the slope, in a tight pack but there were very few of our men left standing against many of the enemy. As we went. Occasionally I would look down and see one of our wounded men, pleading with us to take him. Soon, I stopped looking down.

  I don’t know how long we fought but at one point, one of the men who had saved me went down, mortally wounded, and then the other. I received a nasty wound in the same arm that was hit, mercifully not my sword arm, but it was now too painful to keep the shield held. I dropped my sword for a moment and eased the shield off my arm. I could hear the panting of the man next to me. I wanted to know his name but knew there was no time. We were about half way towards Abdil, which was encouraging, but then there were only two or three of our men above us and then a gap of open ground, perhaps ten sachine distance between them and Abdil’s men. I was totally exhausted and had to stop for a few moments.

  Kneeling on the ground and leaning on the hilt of the sword, now slippery with blood, I breathed deeply and tried to ignore the pain in my throat, from thirst.

  Something hit me in the back and I fell over. For just a moment, I didn’t care but then I forced myself to and saw a horseman riding away across the slope to the east side. He had a sword in his hand. He must have thought he had finally finished me and rode on.

  Just then I heard the sound of trumpets and hopeful, I looked to the west wall and sure enough I could see the four hundred horses of Geb charging up the slope, just under the wall and heading past me, up towards Abdil’s men.

  “Good, I thought. At last.”

  I forced myself to my knees and then to my feet and saw that my comrade was still fighting the same man he had been when I stopped to rest. I joined him and believed the fatal blow to the man’s kidneys. The sword slid in so deep that I had to stand with one foot on the man to draw out the sword.

  “Thank you.” my comrade slowly said, gasping for breath.

  “Rest for a moment,” I said to him. Then we must go on. I felt sure, that if it wasn’t for the dust, kicked up by the battle around Abdil’khan, we would surely not stand a chance. As it was, time was running out for us. After a few moments, I dragged the man to his feet and we trudged on. Just then a spear hit him square in the back and slid deep into him. It had hit between his protective plates and the spear must surely have passed right through him. He fell to his knees then onto his face. I felt my heart sink. I could only see two other men on the centre of the field, wearing blue plumes. I struggled on for a few feet but I was overcome by dizziness and, with the ground spinning, I fell down and rolled over. I looked up at the sky. This surely was the place I would die. I looked for the bird but I could not see it. I closed my eyes. As I had fallen, I had felt the arrow shaft break, which was probably painful but I didn’t feel it. Even if I could get away from here, the arrow shaft was probably embedded and I would bleed to death. I had an almost overwhelming urge to just go to sleep.

  I must have laid there for some time, I do not know how long, before the sounds of battle seeped back into my consciousness. I opened my eyes and looked again at the sky. Was it my imagination or was the sun lower in the sky? I suddenly felt focused and knew I must try again to move.

  I stood, turned and staggered on, up the slope. Everything seemed to be weighing me down. I put my thumb under the lip of my helmet, above my eyes, and levered it off.

  It felt good to have the sun directly on my face and the cool breeze started to dry my sodden hair.

  I was building up a rhythm now and had reached above where the main fighting had been. I was on open ground and with less blood around, I could walk quite steadily. I could see Geb and the last of Abdil’s men, only about two sachine from the wall, with just a few men between them and its high, wooden sides. There was a storm of arrows clattering down on the shields held above their heads and the horses were suffering terribly. Many of them had arrows sticking out of their soft flanks. It was an aweful sight but at the rear, a man turned and saw me coming up the slope. Other men turned and cheered me on.

  “Come on!” I could see their lips mouthing.

  One of them pointed east and seemed insistent so I looked. I could see perhaps three Enemy horsemen flying towards me. I tried to pick up my pace but my legs simply would not go any faster. Two of our men still had spears and at the last moment, just before I reached them, and with the two lead horsemen only a few paces behind me, they launched them. One of them hit its target, the chest of the lead rider, and slipped between the plates. Our spears were designed, as many in ancient times, to break at an angle, leaving the shaft trailing at an angle from the victim. It is almost impossible to pull out and incapacitates him. This is done by having one of the rivets which holds the blade to the shaft, made of wood, which shears on impact, leaving the head attached on just one side. The spear hung out of the man, at an angle and its tip brushed the ground. This unnerved the horse and it veered away from me. The other spear missed and the enemy lunged at me once with his sword, before veering away and riding down the slope.

  The last rider was more determined and hacked at my leg. The blow struck the edges of my greaves, cutting into the flesh slightl and causing a stinging sensation, but I knew it would not be a deep cut. With that, he was gone.

  One man gripped my arm firmly.

  You are a lucky bastard he said.

  The man next to him slapped him on the back. “Do you know who that is?”

  “No.” the man said hesitantly. I guessed my face must be covered in dust and dirt.

  “It’s the King!” The man said.

  With that, some of the other men turned and a cry of “The King” went up from the small band of men.

  I pushed my way between the haunc
hes of two struggling horses, towards the front.

  “Is Geb here?”

  “Yes. At the front!”

  I trudged on. The arrows continued to rain down, but they were mainly concentrated on the front of the small column. I reached the lead horse and sure enough, there was Geb, dismounted, holding the reins. I tapped him on the shoulder and he swung to face me. At first he didn’t seem to recognise me and then his mouth fell open and his face broke out in a broad smile.

  “Sire!” He clasped my hand, not strictly according to protocol, but I didn’t mind under the circumstances. It was great to see a familiar face.

  “You look a little, tired!” he said.

  I just grinned but had to quickly duck as an arrow skipped across my shoulder.

  “You must let the horses go!” I shouted.

  “Yes. I think you are right but if we do, we may not escape.”

  We have no choice. The shields will be our only protection.

  He gave the order and most men slapped their horses’ rumps to get them to canter off down the slope.

  The rest of us quickly got under the shelter of the shields.

  “Is Abdil still alive?” I asked.

  “I think so. Against the wall. We have only just reached it. We need a moment to rest.”

  “Of course. Yes. Is there any water?”

  “No.” He looked at me with sympathy. “Well I haven’t, perhaps somebody else does.”

  “Does anybody have any water for the King!” he barked.

  A flask suddenly appeared, passed hand to hand. I took hold of it and Geb pulled out the bung so that I could take a draft. That water tasted so good, it was better than any wine or potka I had ever tasted.’

  “Thanks.”

  After only a few moments, to let the water seep into my body, I got to my feet, helped by Geb, and started forward for the wall.

  I called Lord Abdil’khan’s name as I went and men parted to let me through. Geb followed. All the time arrows clattered on the iron and leather shields and occasionally thudded into the ground. We could hear the cries of the men on the parapets above us, shouting abuse and generally urging each other on to kill us.

  My twisted foot was sending waves of pain through my body, each time I put my weight on it, the pain was worse than that of my arm.

  I saw the familiar face of Abdil’khan, inn the gloom, astonished to see me.

  “God, am I pleased to see you!” he said, clasping my arm and wiping his brow.

  “What is happening? We must light the wood!” I said. “They will send out horsemen as soon as they guess what we are doing.”

  “We are just doing it.” He stood aside to let me see past him to the vertical posts, perhaps 1/7 sachine wide. In the darkness, cut across by the occasional harsh streak of sunlight between the shields, two men crouched, one with a pouch open beside him and linen rags spilling out. He was tucking straw and linen into the cracks between the posts and the other man held a tinder flint to the straw and struck it. There was intense concentration on the faces of the two men as they went about their task. It seemed to take ages and many attempts before finally a strand of straw glowed red at the edges. They blew on it furiously. It finally took and soon there was a bright lick of flame, lighting up their faces with an eery glow. At the height of the battle a few huddled survivors fought to light a flame in the enemy’s wall, a flame that could save my kingdom!

  “Stand back!” called Abdil’khan.

  The wind was still blowing gently from the west but here, close to the rock wall, the air was eddying around and the flame jittered this way and that, not really spreading. Soon the two men were stuffing more straw and shreds of linen into the slits between the posts, further along the wall, in the direction the flame was licking the most.

  “Come on, come on.” I said under my breath, as most of the other men did too.

  A man cried, “The Gates are opening!”

  I felt a lurching in my stomach. If we failed in this, it would have all been for nothing. I could see a patch of the tree bark blackening and then the faintest sign of flame. There was more smoke than flame, because the wood was still green and full of water. Would the plan work?

  “Fan it! Fan it! We will have to move any moment.”

  Men started fanning it with their helmets and some men even lowered their shields and used them. Finally there was a strong flame going and it was just at the time we heard the pounding of hooves.

  “Form a defensive circle around the flames!” shouted Abdil’Khan

  “No.” I grabbed his arm and spoke quietly to him. We must move down the wall. If it catches we will be burned to death.

  “But we are doomed anyway!”

  “No we are not. The sun will soon go down. If we can last till then, we can escape and if the flames burn through, we can die in Glory inside the fortress.”

  “Alright.” He said. “Move down the wall. In double rank!”

  The men lined up as best they could, the horsemen now engaging with the outer of each pair of soldiers. I noticed there were only three soldiers with the blue crest. The rest all had the palace crest.

  Men were shouting furiously on the wall above now and moments later, the first splash of water came down and touched our legs. But the flames were well alight now. It would take a lot of water to put it out.

  As we fought on, perhaps two hundred of us, against five hundred of them, the losses mounted. I had hardly a moment to look at the burning wall but when I did I was horrified to see that the walls were drenched and many buckets of water were simultaneously being emptied down the sides of the walls. The flames were nearly out but there was a hole, perhaps one sachine square, just above the base, big enough for a man on horseback to get through.

  “Yes!” I thought. Some of our men were climbing through and the men behind me backed towards the hole. As we got near it, I could hear screaming inside. Finally, I could peer around the edge.

  Two or three men were fighting hoards of the Enemy and I could see daylight beyond and some sort of wooden building and either side I could see the high sides of the mountains. Within seconds, the men were dead and Abdil,’ straining next to me, shook his head.

  “This is no good! We have made the hole. We need reinforcements!”

  I looked blankly at him for a moment. There were none, at least none we could communicate with. Then I remembered Yedigei.

  “Can we signal Yedigei?”

  “Are you mad?”

  We were being approached by an enemy horseman and turning to parry his thrusts I told Abdil’khan to find a way.

  “I have a mirror. He said. Hold him off!”

  Just before I turned back to our assailant, I noticed that Abdil’khan was bleeding badly from a wound in his side too.

  Just then a trumpet sounded and one of the enemy, probably their leader barked a command.

  The horsemen disengaged and left, riding back to the gates.

  “They can see we are finished! Said Abdil’khan. They may as well just pick us off from the battlements.”

  “Yes.” I said.

  He was flashing his mirror and in the distance now, the dust was mostly gone from the battlefield, I could see there were perhaps a dozen of Yedigei’s men left, with no enemy around them. They looked exhausted but were standing their ground, unwilling to risk reaching us but unwilling to retreat.

  “Signal them to get reinforcements.” I said.

  “These are scouts signals, I used to be one. This will only work if one of them can understand them,” said Abdil’

  Suddenly we saw the riders all mount and one on a white horse, probably Yedigie, pointed his sword towards the gates. I could not understand what he was doing.

  “No. Go back!” shouted Abdil’Kahn. “They are going to charge!”

  “Oh no!”

  They charged towards the gates, just as our attackers started to ride through them. Korim’s riders turned to face the brave attackers and the archers on the Battlements la
unched a fusillade of arrows. The riders stood no chance. In the end there was just one rider left, on a white horse, and as he rode on, alone, we could see that it was Yedigei. Our hearts were in our mouths as he rode on and then he was hit, by one, two and then many arrows. Eventually he slumped forward and then his horse came to a stop and he fell from his horse.

  “Yedigei.” said Abdil’khan. “You were so young.”

  “What do we do now?” said Abdil’khan after a long moment.

  “We wait until dark, we survive until dark, and then we go back.”

  “But why? We have got this far. They will just block it up!”

  “Maybe but we can’t go on without more men. We go back, get reinforcement and come back.” There seemed so much more I should say but what could I say?

  I guessed there was perhaps three hours until complete darkness. I didn’t think we could possibly survive that long. Korim would finish us.

  But he didn’t.

  Arrows continued to rain down on us. At times boiling water too and once some boiling oil. Many men died, even sheltering under the shields.

  Men exchanged messages, to be given to their loved ones, should their comrades survive. The atmosphere was one of resignation, not despair. We had fought bravely and achieved success. Others would follow and we hoped, succeed. It was frustrating that Sabitzan and Abutalip could see the hole in the wall but they couldn’t act. I had given them strict instructions to remain where they were unless all of us were defeated. They would be wondering what was happening but would not move, not yet. They were to be the second wave. They would probably already be planning how best to launch their attack. Occasionally we saw the head of one of their observers peering over the rise.