Siege of Draestl

by Randall Seeley

  He saw Malithan and a few other forces attempting to hold back the onslaught of Draebek, but they were being overrun. He could see them backed up to the entrance to the tunnel, the opening wide for all to see, and people trying as best as they could to scramble into the safety below.

  There wasn’t enough time. We’re being overrun. This plan…

  Owen forced himself to stop his negative thinking. There was only one choice he could make. Charge. He turned to his men.

  They looked exhausted. Not a single one was free of injury.

  He smiled at them.

  “Men,” he said as he regarded them. “We’ve been through everything, and each of you,” he said as he pointed to them individually, “are for some reason blessed to still be standing. Let’s use that gift at least one more time. Let’s give the people of Old Draestl a chance to survive. Let’s make sure Gregor and the Dragons didn’t die in vain. Let’s fight to live another day!”

  His men nodded with enthusiasm, and he felt courage fill him.

  He turned back toward the sea of Draebek and thrust his sword into the air. “Alderidon Wolves. Charge!”

  Together then ran into the courtyard, their weapons flashing.

  They were on the Draebek before the Draebek knew what was happening, and dozens fell under their blades. Owen pushed them forward, striking his sword with a fierceness he didn’t know existed. His muscles ached with protest, but his mind willed him on. He had never cared so much about anything before in his life, but he cared now. He would fight so his men could have the chance at freedom. He would not—

  He realized that the Draebek weren’t moving. As soon as they cut down one, another three would take its place. There were too many of them. Owen could hear his men dying, and they, too, were replaced with Draebek. They had to move.

  “To the tunnel!” Owen screamed. His men yelled in return, but there were fewer of them. Curse me, we are losing! We’re being overrun!

  A deafening boom caused him to drop his sword, and he barely caught himself before falling over. Another boom sounded. The impact was so powerful that his ears rang. All of the remaining buildings shook.

  What in the name of the Creator?

  He looked up and saw dozens of Draebek lying dead in front of him. Now there was a clear path to the tunnel. He was confused at what happened, until he saw Malithan standing behind a smoking ballista, yelling at men to fill it one more time. Malithan was a bloody mess. His armor was tattered, his clothing soaked red, his hair matted. He looked like walking death, and yet he stood as stoic as a statue, and his commands drove action.

  The ballista was reloaded and the boom sounded again. Owen had no idea what they were blasting into the Draebek, but it was powerful. The shot spread after impact, and then ignited as it exploded outward, incinerating and blasting Draebek out of the way. The dead piled high.

  The latest explosion jarred his senses, and Owen saw an opportunity amongst the confusion and carnage. This is our moment. “To the tunnel!” he yelled, and together they charged.

  The new commotion drew the Draebek out of their stupor, and they charged after Owen and the Wolves. But Owen had a head start. They ran for the tunnel as fast as they could.

  “Get inside!” Malithan yelled. “I’ll cover you. We have enough time for one more shot. Move!”

  Owen didn’t need to be told twice. He and his men ran through the open gateway. It was a simple hidden door that was currently wide open, barely large enough to allow a few through at a time. Owen grimaced as his men began filing down. It felt like eternity.

  Owen turned around and saw the Draebek coming. Though there were dozens dead, there were twice that charging. Curse me and turn me into a dragon!

  Another blast sounded. This time it was so loud, Owen’s ears rung. He looked over at Malithan and saw the man running toward him. “We’ve got to go!” Malithan yelled. “Get into the tunnel. Now!”

  Owen watched as Draebek chased after him. They had run out of time. There were no more shots to protect them.

  Malithan crashed into him and together they fell into the tunnel. There were still some men outside, and they tried to scramble in behind them, but soon the Draebek were on them, stabbing them in the back as they tried to flee to safety.

  Then the Draebek began jumping into the tunnel after them.

  “Seal the tunnel! Collapse it!” Malithan screamed as they crashed to the floor.

  Owen panicked. He saw Draebek pushing their way into the tunnel, some landed on the tunnel floor and began striking with weapons. Men charged forward and slayed them, but there were more arriving every second.

  Owen turned and looked into the thick darkness of the tunnel. The tunnel was tight, barely wide enough for four or five to walk side by side, and he saw the tired faces of soldiers who had hoped they had made it to safety. Now they wondered if they had made it to their graves.

  This will never work. It was too close of quarters. They couldn’t fight. They were too exhausted. They needed…

  Sudden realization struck him.

  “We need to collapse the entrance!” Owen yelled. He winced as the men closest to the ladder were cut down. There weren’t that many left. They had to somehow take down the tunnel.

  Templar Arthron appeared. He smiled at Owen—which Owen thought remarkably odd at a moment like this—then ran into the Draebek, something glowing in his hand. Owen had no idea what it was, but after two quick strikes to keep the Draebek back, Arthron threw it. Then he turned and yelled, “Run!”

  An explosion erupted behind the Templar and then a conflagration filled the tunnel. Owen sprinted away from it, the heat of the fire blasting him and singing his skin. He crashed into others as they desperately tried to flee from the growing conflagration. The heat intensified and Owen feared that he was about to be consumed.

  Then it winked out.

  The darkness was so sudden and overpowering that everyone froze where they were. It cast an eerie silence. The only sound was heavy breathing and moans of the dying. Then a light was lit and he saw Arthron helping Malithan forward. Owen smiled as he saw the tunnel behind them. It was collapsed.

  “We did it,” Malithan said as he observed the wreckage. “But safety is only for a moment,” he remarked as they heard commotions from above. They could hear the Draebek already digging after them. “We need to move, quickly,” Malithan said as some of the rubble from above fell in on them. “Are we clear ahead?”

  “Yes, sir,” came a reply from one of the scouts.

  “Then let’s move. Men, enjoy your quick break, and recover as much as you can as we march the next two miles. But be prepared for the worst.”

  The pounding continued above them, and Owen knew that the Draebek would be through soon. He followed Malithan and the others—Malithan moved to the front with a torch held in his hand that one of the earlier soldiers had handed him—and he was joined by Templar Arthron and Seeker Kalaia.

  Owen was surprised at how good the Templar looked. He realized that he had noticed something was different about the Templar, and it finally dawned on him what it was. He isn’t half dead anymore! A tingle went up his spine as he thought about how the Templar had recovered so quickly. Curse me, it’s like the Order has magic or something!

  As he made his way toward the front, he immediately regretted it. Not only was his adrenaline subsiding—which resulted in him feeling every single bruise and cut, which were aplenty—but he found himself surrounded by the citizens of Old Draestl. The sight made him want to cry.

  Children were huddled together, terrified. Some of them had stains of blood on their clothing. Workers and their wives had shifting eyes that looked somewhat relieved that the soldiers were there, but frightened by the fact that they needed soldiers to keep them alive.

  Then there were the injured. Dozens of them lay on makeshift stretchers or leaned heavily on shoddy crutches. Several moaned. All looked exhausted.

  “Owen, help with the injured,” Malithan commanded as h
e gestured to one of the lead medics.

  Great. That’s exactly what I want to do…

  But he made his way over obediently. He thought for a moment about delegating the assignment, but decided against it since Malithan was staring at him. I better do it.

  He went over to the cleanest-looking person, a young girl who looked the least frightened, and she didn’t have a trace of blood or anything else on her. She sat on a stretcher by herself. Not only was she probably the lightest, but she didn’t look that sick or injured.

  He nodded softly, then reached down to pick up the stretcher, a few inches away from her face. She moaned softly, and he gave her a pleasant smile. Then she vomited all over him.

  “Curse me!” he yelled as he stepped back. He glared at the girl, which made her cry, to which he swore again, which made her begin to wail.

  “Owen!” Seeker Kalaia reprimanded as she rushed forward and soothed the girl. Owen tried to share a sympathetic look with Arthron, then Malithan, then anyone who would give him one in return—but they all looked at him with disappointment. It was as if he could read their minds. I didn’t intentionally try to hurt her. Curse me.

  He moved to someone else, who was knocked out cold this time. He didn’t even care if they were dead just as long as they didn’t interact with him, and reached down and picked up the stretcher on one side. He barked to have someone help him on the other—he didn’t care if he sounded upset—and one of the Wolves came to assist him. They picked up the figure and followed after the others.

  The tunnel was dark, and a thick odor of damp earth coupled with sweat and blood made the humid air uncomfortable to walk through. The pass was narrower than Owen figured it should be, in some instances only wide enough for a single person to walk through. He thought it was a very bad lack of foresight. If you needed to escape from an army, with an army, you’d think you’d make it at least convenient.

  Wooden beams that looked dozens of years old kept the earth from collapsing on top of them and burying them alive. They were built up every few feet. Most of the structures looked like they were in good condition, but a few were rotted or split, and earth crumbled down on the ground around them.

  It would be just my luck to survive the bloody battle above only to be buried alive down here. Curse me.

  Occasionally, there was a loud bang that sent dirt washing over their heads. They feared a collapse on several occasions, but the structure always held. It got to the point where Owen figured they might actually make it.

  The morale of everyone improved as they continued along the path, and eventually Malithan called for a stop.

  “We’re here,” he yelled out. “We’ll send out a few scouts to ensure we’re protected, then we’ll make a run for it.”

  Malithan motioned for several men, and Owen had to force himself not to groan when he was selected. “Owen, take charge and come back quickly.”

  Owen had to keep his mouth shut to avoid saying something sarcastic or rude. He made his way to the front and was pleased when Arthron and Kalaia were two of the other scouts. They made their way toward the exit. A four-rung ladder led to a wood door that he assumed opened up to the forest above. At the moment it was locked, and Malithan fumbled with the keys. They had always kept it locked to avoid unwanted entry, though access to this part of the woods made it nearly impossible to get to without going through the village of Draestl. But it was a safety precaution nevertheless.

  There were three locks attached to three different chains that bound the door from opening, and one by one they fell. Then Malithan turned to them and nodded softly. “This is it,” he said encouragingly. “Ensure we aren’t walking into any surprises and report back quickly,” Malithan instructed as he pushed open the door. They were all greeted with a star-filled night sky, and moonlight streaked into the darkened tunnel. Malithan had those closest to the exit douse their torches.

  One of the other scouts scurried up the ladder and disappeared from view. Another followed. Then it was Owen’s turn. He felt his heart race as he moved forward. He grabbed his sword and began climbing out.

  The night air was brisk, and he was surprised at how much his body had relaxed since the fight. The cold air was refreshing, but it also brought painstaking attention to every single cut, bruise, and wound he had. Even the short break he had while waiting at the exit had caused his muscles to tighten. He was dreadfully stiff.

  Halfway up, he stuck his head out and peered around. The cold air enveloped him and he actually felt a chill. It made him want to do nothing more than find a warm bed and fall asleep—after washing up…I’m a bloody mess.

  “Anything?” Malithan asked from below.

  Owen glared back at him. “I’ve barely stuck my bloody head out the bloody hole…” Then he turned back to his task and climbed the last few steps to the outside.

  They were in the middle of a clearing that was surrounded by thick woods. It was too small for the entire group to fit. We’ll need to spread out amongst the woods once everyone is up here. He looked around and caught sight of the two scouts who had previously exited and they were running alongside the perimeter, two quiet wraiths slipping through the trees and darkness.

  “Owen, move,” Seeker Kalaia said from below.

  Owen cursed as he realized he was standing in the way, and stepped to the side. For a moment he thought he heard something, and turned back around, only to realize that it was Templar Arthron, who had already climbed out.

  Dear Creator, I’m jumpy!

  “Anything?” Arthron asked him as the Templar began scanning the forest.

  “It appears safe,” Owen said. He was going to say more, but Arthron and Kalaia joined the other scouts and disappeared into the forest. Their charge was to scout several hundred yards and then to return.

  After a moment the first two scouts returned and reported that they had found nothing, so they began down the road to the city of Draestl itself. Their charge was to ensure nothing was waiting for them. There shouldn’t be, Owen thought, the only way into this forest is through Old Draestl, and they couldn’t have made it here yet.

  Eventually Arthron and Kalaia returned. They were slightly winded, and Arthron looked tired. Even in the moonlight, Owen could tell that the day’s adventures were taking a toll on them. They should, he was half dead…and if it wasn’t for that crazy potion he took, he would have been dead.

  “I think we’re clear,” Seeker Kalaia said. “Give word.”

  Owen turned to the tunnel, realizing he hadn’t taken a foot to help in either direction and was hoping that Malithan hadn’t noticed, but as he glanced down the tunnel he saw Malithan looking at him with a disappointing glare.

  “Do the others have something to report?” Malithan asked deliberately.

  Owen blushed and was glad it was too dark for anyone to notice. “We’re clear. Bring everyone up.”

  Malithan nodded and gave the orders. Owen reached out a hand and helped the first few soldiers exit and then stood to the side as everyone in the tunnel came into the clearing. Owen knew that there were hundreds of people on their exodus, but as they filled the small clearing and spread out through the forest, he was surprised at just how many there were. He also couldn’t help but think that this was only a quarter of who woke up this morning in Old Draestl.

  Eventually Malithan arose from the tunnel. He started to shut the doors before turning and calling for Arthron. “Do you have another of those dralchoms? I’d rather us be extra careful and collapse the tunnel on this side as well.”

  “I do,” Arthron said, and he reached into his cloak and took out another vial of the orange swirly liquid. It looked like liquid fire. Arthron walked up to the door, unstopped the vial, and then dropped it inside. There was a brilliant flash of light followed by a loud boom and then the ground crumbled in on itself. Arthron, Malithan, and a few others had to step back to avoid being caught in the cave-in. It was over in a few moments and then the dust settled.

  “We head
toward the roads,” Malithan instructed. “I know we are tired, but we can’t stay here. There is no telling how close the Draebek are, and we need to get to Draestl to warn them of the danger and to teach them what we’ve learned.” Owen knew that Malithan was referring to whatever he had done with the ballista. “If we push hard enough tonight, we’ll get to Draestl before dawn. Are we ready?”

  There were tired murmurs of agreement, so Malithan continued. “Then we move. Follow the Wolves,” he instructed, then he motioned for Owen to take the lead.

  Owen signaled for his men to move out, and then began to follow. Malithan cleared his voice and Owen turned back. Malithan was pointing in a different direction than they were going. “What?” Owen asked impatiently.

  “The road is that way,” Malithan said politely.

  Owen blushed, and then cleared his throat. He tried to say something about how he knew, but it just brought more questioning looks, so he shut his mouth and headed in the direction the scouts had gone. Of course…

  The woods were thick as they made their way through them, but eventually they opened up into a clear field that was several hundred feet wide, and in the middle was the road. It looked inviting after the half a dozen times he had nearly tripped over upturned roots, and without trees to block the moonlit sky, he could see clearly.

  “Be quiet. Be vigilant,” Malithan instructed as they moved out onto the road.

  The road was gravel, and as Owen’s boot ground the rocks, it was loud enough it sounded like someone was screaming. When everyone else made it to the road, it added to the noise, and he nervously looked around to see if they had alerted anything. As he scanned the surroundings, he realized just how much they were in the open, and he swallowed hard. We are easy targets if something comes. But the scouts hadn’t returned with any warnings, so he assumed they were safe.