I did this, Tomas realised. He could not avert his eyes.
He did not want to kill this man. He did not hate him; he did not want him dead. He did not know a single thing about him. His name, where he had grown up. His family.
But Tomas feared the man. He was petrified.
He had acted before he could even think of acting. He had slashed his sword against the soldier’s belly before he could even comprehend what had happened.
And now the man lay dying. Because of Tomas.
The Akurai soldier moaned in agony as he tried pushing his bowels back into his body, his cries echoed in his helmet. They were slippery and bloody; he could not get a hold of them all.
Tomas could hear the same fear in the Imperial’s pain-filled moans that he felt inside.
In the thick of it all, Tomas thought he could hear a lamb shrieking. He froze, crippled with shock.
A body barged into him from behind, knocking him down into the muck. Tomas caught himself on his hands and knees just as another fell on top of him, pushing him face-first into the very bowels of the Imperial he had just spilled.
Tomas coughed and spluttered as flesh and blood smothered him.
He lost his sword in the mess.
Tomas struggled. His hands flailed about under the weight of the bodies on top of him. Corpses and the dying surrounded him, disfigured, and battered.
The mud he slopped in was peppered with broken teeth, fingers, clumps of torn skin and pieces of weapons.
Each time he let out a gasp, his chest was crushed.
He couldn’t breathe.
A hand pulled Tomas up out from the mud. It was Rilan. “Grab something to fight with!” he screamed over the chaos.
A young soldier of the Broken Coast vanguard, no younger than Tomas and Rilan, cried out as an Imperial soldier bashed his face in with iron knuckles. His nose split open before he spat his chipped teeth out with each desperate exhale.
Rilan spun around, sticking the tip of his spear into the back of the Imperial’s helmet and deep into his head. There was a loud crack of bone and the tip of the spear came out through the Imperial’s forehead.
The soldier in black collapsed, but the boy that had been attacked was a lost cause. His face was split open and gushing with blood, unrecognisable as human anymore.
“Tomas, grab a fucking weapon!”
Tomas came to, wiping his face of the filth. He stood up, stricken with fear. His muscles were tense and his head was aching.
Wait, my shield. Tomas remembered the shield he was carrying on his back. He grabbed the strap that hung at his shoulder, bringing the round shield out in front of him. He gripped it tight- he wasn’t going to lose it like he had his sword.
Don’t hesitate. Or you’re dead.
He had killed one man- how hard could it be to do again?
The defending force pushed against the attacking Akurai Imperials. A man wielding a war hammer charged at a Akurai soldier who was easily two feet taller than him. He dodged the Imperial’s sword swing before slamming the spiked head into the man’s chest.
The tip of the war hammer burrowed deep into the Imperial’s cuirass with a crunch. The Imperial spat out a mouthful of blood as his ribs shattered, doubling over from the blow.
Another defender was there to deliver a fatal strike to the back of the Imperial’s head.
Tomas’s eyes darted wildly from side to side, waiting for the next engagement. He felt determined this time. Determined to live. To survive.
The organised lines of their army were quickly falling into chaos despite the defender’s attempt to charge back at the Akurai force.
They were being annihilated. The Akurai army seemed to be keeping some semblance of organisation, with the soldiers in black and green sticking to rows. They were far superior in gear and numbers and fought with a terrifying strength.
Tomas and Rilan stood back-to-back. Rilan had left the spear in the head of the Imperial soldier, replacing it with a spiked club he had found. The barbs on the end of the wooden shaft of the club were dripping with blood and had matted hair and a chunk of scalp still attached.
Another volley of arrows flew overhead, landing several metres behind the boys into some large groups of Imperial soldiers.
It looked as though the arrows merely bounced off their thick armour, however some appeared to be shot, falling, and crying out in pain. One was struck through the visor of his helmet, straight into the face. Another hopped out of the fray with an arrow impaled in his foot.
The Valkhor who had earlier told Tomas to quiet down fell to his knees with two arrows sticking out of his back. Tomas could not tell if the arrows had come from an Imperial or Broken Coast archer.
It was madness.
“We need to get back to where it’s safer,” Rilan gasped.
Tomas nodded in agreement. The wings of the Empire’s army were beginning to circle around the main body of the Barrowtown battalion. Most of the vanguard had been slaughtered.
Tomas eyed some flags with the Broken Coast sigil in amongst the turmoil. He had never been so happy to see that shark jaw sigil. He nudged Rilan with his elbow, pointing in the direction of potential safety.
The boys dashed towards the banner, up a hill towards the direction of the forest lining the open plain. As they ran through the uneven ground of mud, stones, grass and bodies, Tomas couldn’t help but notice he was stepping over friends and foes alike.
He didn’t care. He needed to get out of there.
Over the screams of death and shouts of rage, Tomas heard Gharland barking orders. “Group up! Prepare to be flanked!”
The captain and the other higher-ranking officers were protected by a circle by proficient men-at-arms. Britus had a clean sword drawn, pointing it cowardly in one and all directions, preparing for the incoming attack.
Why weren’t they down here, fighting with us?! We stood no chance, Tomas realised, seeing the stark differences between he and Rilan’s makeshift weapons and scraps of leather armour, compared to the men-at-arms with their shining steel weapons and chainmail.
The defenders were falling back, heading uphill towards the wall of trees that marked the beginning of the thick woods.
Tomas and Rilan threw themselves into the crowd of soldiers, pushing their way as close to the middle of the group as they could where it would be safer. They weren’t going to be on the frontline again.
It was then that Tomas saw a stream of blood flowing down Rilan’s free hand. He had lost his fifth finger. The stump was at his second knuckle, with strips of flesh hanging from it and oozing fresh blood.
Tomas ripped a piece of cloth from the bottom of his tunic, handing it to Rilan.
“Your finger,” he said directly, pointing.
Rilan peered down, stunned, taking the piece of cloth, and bandaging the wound as tight and as fast as he could manage.
Tomas guessed that only one or two hundred of the Barrowtown levies had survived the initial attack. Others who were still caught in the fray had no choice but to hold their position, unable to flee as they became enveloped by Imperials. The Akurai soldiers showed no mercy towards them.
As the Imperial army flanked the rest of the vanguard, they began to encircle what was left of the defending battalion who stood side by side, body to body, in a tight circle against the edge of the woods.
The men at the front held out spears and shields, reminiscent of a hedgehog’s quills. Gharland and the other commanding officers stood near the back, swords drawn. Gharland’s helmet was smeared with thick lines of blood and his mantle cape had been torn in half. Not even they were able to escape the violence.
“Why not run, ser? We have lost!” someone begged.
“Hold, men,” Gharland shouted. “Just a little while longer.”
Tomas leaned over and whispered in Rilan’s ear. “What should we do?”
Rilan shook his head, shrugging. They were surrounded by fellow soldiers- running meant pushing through all of them to g
et to the woods. And even if they got that far, who knew what would come of them for deserting.
The Imperial soldiers now greatly outnumbered the remaining defenders. There must have been a thousand of them left. They charged full force from all directions.
Tomas closed his eyes, praying for the nightmare to end and awaiting the horrors to come.
Right before the two armies met once more, Tomas heard a loud horn blow. He hadn’t heard this type of horn before. He knew not what it meant.
Over the deafening noise of the charging soldiers, clanging swords, and the screams of the dying came a thunderous rumble. The ground shook as Tomas turned, looking past the encircled group and into the forest behind them.
He saw what looked like hundreds of bulky dark shapes heading straight for them, weaving in and out of the tall trees and leaping over fallen logs.
Horses.
It was a huge unit of cavalry, and judging by the banners they held, they were of the Broken Coast!
The wall of armoured horses and their riders, under the cover of the woods, came out around the Imperial army at full gallop, crashing into them harder than anything Tomas had ever seen.
Bodies went flying up into the air. Others were thrown backwards into their comrades at lethal speed. Despite their numbers, the Imperials could do little to slow the charge.
As the cavalry ploughed through the Akurai soldiers, Gharland ordered his men to counter-attack.
“Now!” he shouted. “Attack, attack!”
Since they had taken the high ground when creating their defensive circle, the soldiers of the Broken Coast had the advantage of height as they broke their lines and charged into the Imperials down the bank of the hill.
The line of spears on the outer circle met the confused and panicking Akurai soldiers with great force, enough for the spear tips to pierce through their plate armour and out the other ends.
Tomas and Rilan joined the charge with newfound morale, realising this was as good a chance as they would get.
The cavalry continued their assault through the Imperial force. Those not trampled by horses or hit with the overhead swords and spears of the riders were charged into by the counter-charging defenders.
Before long, dissent spread through the Akurai army and they began their retreat from the fields. Some were run down as they fled. But most of the Broken Coast soldiers, Tomas and Rilan included, were far too exhausted to even consider giving chase.
As the fighting slowed, Tomas bent forward, his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. He looked out over the bloodied plain as the Akurai soldiers fled.
“Should we give chase?” Rilan asked, wiping sweat from his brow.
Tomas simply shook his head. He had seen enough blood for one day.
Tomas felt for the key hanging around his neck, fearing he had lost it in the battle. It was still there.
Thank goodness.
The once green patch of land was polluted with, blood, mud, viscera, weapons, and corpses.
Soldiers were pulling the wounded up from out of the piles of dead to be carried off on wagons.
Tomas spotted flocks of crows fluttering down from their trees. Those who were still alive in the field of death, and had the energy left, tried batting the ferocious birds away as they began pecking at their flesh in a frenzy for blood.
One man in the distance was missing legs, yet despite the pain and loss of blood, desperately tried to drag himself away as the birds rips bits of flesh from his leg stumps.
The crows had waited patiently for their meals- they did not care if they were alive or dead.
The crows began their feast.
Chapter 2 - On the Road
Katryna Bower held a firm grip on the horn of her saddle with one hand and the reins in the other. Her palms were slick with sweat.
Boom boom.
Boom boom.
Her heartbeat was like an earthquake from within her chest. Her brown eyes grew wide as she willed for her anxiety to settle. She knew she was safe, but felt like she was in great peril.
Katryna had never been a confident horse rider, despite growing up with her mare Tulip. Riding for several weeks straight was not easy for anybody, let alone when riding made them nervous.
Katryna always remembered her instructor’s tips when it came to riding- “Trust her, and she will trust you… Balance your weight on Tulip’s centre of gravity and you will never fall off… Hold tight and never let go.” But she could never forget, when she was little, when her brother’s friend, Devon, who had gone on the wrong end of a stallion and ended up having his face kicked in.
The lessons she had undertaken as a child helped Katryna to learn the physicalities of horse riding, sure. But there was always something so terrifying about putting her life in the hands of a huge, powerful animal.
Tulip paced along the dirt road in a gentle trot, her golden mane blowing in the wind. It was almost as if she could sense her rider’s fear and made sure to keep steady.
That’s why I love you, gorgeous, Katryna acknowledged in her head, stroking the animal’s neck.
Tulip was a beauty to behold- all Camridian Aurous Mares were. Strong legs, a trusting nature, and most notably their long, flowing manes of sunlight.
Katryna exhaled deeply, trying to settle the butterflies in her stomach. Focus on your breathing.
The sun was hot on her back.
All she wanted to do was stop and make camp for the day. But night-time was a fair way off, and Katryna had responsibilities to attend to. She knew there wasn’t much choice in the matter.
She was needed back at Ravenrock, as soon as duly possible.
“…You must return home at once, Kat. Mother is dead, and now father is dying. We need you here…” the letter from her younger brother Finn had read. The letter was hiding away, folded up in the side pocket of her rider’s jacket. Far enough away to be out of sight, so she would not obsess over the horrible words contained within. But just close enough for her to reach if the torment in her mind forced her to take one last look.
Katryna and her company had been riding for several weeks from Redwatch. The distance to get back home, however, did nothing to quell Katryna’s despair and anticipation.
It was a road she never thought she would have to ride down again.
“Are you alright, m’lady?” a soft voice from behind asked.
Katryna looked into the sparkling blue eyes of her handmaiden, Trish. The woman wore a crimson-red, embroidered dress with dark leather boots and was sitting comfortably atop her horse. Her silky, golden hair blew in the breeze.
Katryna had always admired Trish’s striking features but would grimace and avert her eyes each time she saw the long scar running down the side of the handmaiden’s face.
Katryna smiled at Trish to try and ease her concerns. It was an “I’m alright but not really” sort of smile. The two were close, good friends even, and Katryna knew that Trish would only worry if she told her the truth.
I’m worried sick. My mother is dead. My father is dying. What will become of my House? What of my family? They loathe me, and I them. The riding is making me sick. All I want to do is get off this damn horse and run away.
“I’m fine,” Katryna murmured.
“You’re as pale as a ghost.”
Katryna tied back her long, brown hair into a ponytail to relieve some of the overbearing heat. “I’ll be alright. The heat is killing me, is all.”
Trish nodded, suspecting otherwise. Katryna would talk about her anxieties when she was ready, Trish knew that.
Katryna and Trish led the company; behind them were three guards in mail armour and two other servants.
They were taking the Spring Mile, a long stretch of dirt road through Camridia lined by huge green cypress trees. “The Mile”, as the locals called it, was much longer than a mile in length. Katryna had never understood why it was named so.
It ran from west to east across Camridia, ending at the capital, Ravenrock.
The Spring Mile, while not all that populated, had inns and farmhouses scattered along its length. Katryna’s company saw one every half hour or so.
They would pass farmers on their carriages, pulled by a myriad of livestock. Horses, cows, donkeys. The peasants’ carts were full of fresh vegetables and barrels of grain and wines for trade. Camridia was a lush, fertile land that grew plentiful resources.
The company had witnessed the odd traveller here and there. One old man they rode past had a walking stick, a great long beard, and a white monkey on his shoulder! Katryna was pleasantly surprised- she had never seen a monkey before.
The insects were out and biting this time of year, making the most of the warm sun, light winds, and blooming flowers.
Katryna tried to admire the beautiful Summer surroundings, but she was stuck in her head. The voice of her mother played on repeat.
“Katryna, what have you done?!”
Trish rode up to Katryna so that she could talk to her more personally. She turned back to make sure the guards and servants were out of earshot.
“A skeleton walks into a tavern,” Trish began. Katryna was taken aback by how out of nowhere the joke was that she was beginning to laugh. “The skeleton orders a beer and a mop.”
There was a pause. Katryna thought about it for a moment before rolling her eyes and chuckling. “That was terrible!”
Trish smirked, “I knew you’d like that one. I have cruder jokes I could tell you, but I wouldn’t want to hurt your delicate sensibilities.”
Katryna scoffed sarcastically. “‘Delicate sensibilities’?” She paused for a moment, thinking. “A friend of mine came back from war with one leg. We still don’t know whose leg it was.”
Trish chuckled to herself, shaking her head.
“How’s that for delicate sensibilities?”
“You’ve proven me wrong, princess. Where’d you hear that one from?”
“Ralf the squire, back in Redwatch.”
“Why am I not surprised? Helped get your mind off of whatever was bothering you, didn’t I?” Trish said.
Katryna nodded, realising her handmaiden was correct.
Starfall (The Fables of Chaos Book 1) Page 3