Some of the horsemen broke from the main group and rode forward along the riverbank, searching for a place to cross. They paused a moment, a thousand paces out. Straiah couldn't make out what was happening. But the displeased grunting of horses told him the barbarians had plunged into the icy water and were crossing to the other side.
Straiah craned his head forward, trying to see how many were with them. It couldn't have been much more than a dozen. He could scarcely believe the barbarians seemed so little concerned with conquering Suriya, and so much concerned with making sure none escaped.
Something struck him in that moment that the barbarians must have been looking for the Hammer of Haladrin now strapped to his back. They wouldn't take such trouble just to keep villagers from escaping. But how could they know the hammer was here? What if he had already captured Sheabor and had learned from one of them the location of the hammer? That was the only explanation that made sense. A sinking feeling of despair hit his stomach.
They watched the small party of horsemen bear down on Suriya's East End. There were hundreds of unarmed refugees there. The rest of the barbarian force were still closing in on the West End.
The horsemen were only a stone's throw from the first building. They rode cautiously and slowly. Time seemed to still. Had the villagers seen them? Nothing but the riders stirred against the backdrop of the glowing windows.
But just as the riders reached the first of the buildings, the sound of battle cries rang out and the startled rearing of horses. A quick clash of sword and wood led to the horsemen fleeing back toward the open plains. The villagers let out a victorious roar. The horsemen made due west, searching for the bridges that connected the two ends of Suriya.
Finding nothing, they began a wide patrol around the East End, waiting for the rest to arrive. The tightly boxed encampment Straiah and the others had built seemed to go unnoticed by the riders. Their sights were now fully concentrated on the other side of town. Straiah sighed in great relief.
The main force was less than a thousand paces off, the marching of boots sounding through the dark. There were hundreds of torches and many dozens of horsemen besides. Even with the luck of going unnoticed by the initial scouts, Straiah didn't know how they hoped to defeat such a force.
Straiah raised his bow and bent back an arrow. The dozen or so archers on either side of him did likewise. They had only a handful of arrows each and the barbarians were fast coming into range. Straiah had a choice to make. Should he let the barbarians in close, maximizing the few arrows and potentially giving away their position? Or should he keep them at at a distance, while they wildly searched the dark for them?
The barbarian force was less than a few hundred paces away. The horsemen were keeping close to the foot-soldiers and those at the fringes were coming in to join the main group. The West End of Suriya lay in darkness.
Moments passed. Straiah and the other archers held their arrows tight against the strings. No signal would be given. Once Straiah loosed his arrow, the others would follow suit. More moments passed. The barbarians were within range.
Straiah took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, loosing an arrow into the night. Just a moment later, the quiet snap of dozens of bows followed. The archers grabbed for more arrows. As they set them into the bows, an eruption of death cries and call to battle came from the barbarian line.
But their confusion lasted only a moment. For just after Straiah and the other archers loosed a second volley, the sky before them filled with the flaming arrows of the barbarian's own archers. In tandem, the barbarian horsemen and foot-soldiers burst forward. Straiah and the others ducked beneath the low wall. Most of the barbarian arrows sailed overhead, striking buildings or the plains just before them. But many of their own arrows met their mark amid the barbarian forces, taking down rider and footmen and archer.
But a glow, subtle at first, began to glow around Straiah and the others. For many of the flaming arrows lit the thatch roofs of the buildings all around them. The flames grew quickly, and within moments, the town was illumined all around them. Their position had just been revealed.
“Raise another volley!” Straiah called out. “Aim for the foot-soldiers!”
The archers loosed their arrows into the night. The horsemen galloped for them at full speed.
“Pikes!” called out King Froamb to his own group.
Dozens of pikes were thrust over the low wall waiting to meet the stampeding force of the barbarian horde. But just before they reached the wall, the horsemen veered off, skirting the northern wall and coming round it into the eastern part of the city. Just then, barbarian arrows began to fall on their position.
“Take cover!” yelled the king, but it was too late for many.
By the time they arose, the barbarian foot-soldiers were bearing down.
“Archers, make ready!” Straiah yelled.
Straiah stretched his bow and pointed straight ahead. This would be their last volley.
“Hold the line!” King Froamb yelled.
“Fire!” Straiah yelled only moments before the barbarians reached them.
A handful dropped just in front of the wall, stalling the rush of the others. Straiah and the archers dropped their bows and unsheathed their swords while King Froamb and his men held their pikes firm. The barbarians swung to get past the spikes, but in the fray, many of the barbarians met their end against the freshly hewn wooden tips.
Straiah barely managed to draw his blade when a barbarian climbed atop the wall and leaped over the men, coming round behind Straiah and swinging a broadsword across his chest. Straiah pulled his sword upward from his sheath, catching the blow and pushing it barely overhead. Then he pierced the barbarian in the torso. The pikemen and swordsmen were holding the barbarians at bay, but some were making it over the wall.
“Hold the line!” Straiah yelled.
The soldiers kept the majority of their assailants outside the wall, but some were crossing and causing havoc. Straiah darted toward a barbarian with a large hammer, who swung it toward the line. Straiah caught the blow with his sword, but the power of it knocked him back and nearly off his feet. The barbarian advanced against him, swinging upward.
Straiah barely moved to one side, feeling the hammer graze his cheek as it went by. The barbarian swung downward, but Straiah managed to sidestep the blow. Then he went on the offensive. The hammer was a menacing weapon, but poor for defense. Blocking two of Straiah's blows, he fell to the third.
The line was holding, but more barbarians were leaping through behind them. Straiah rushed to help a nearby soldier being pushed back by the blows of a broadsword. The barbarian swung and knocked the soldier into a nearby building, stunning him. But before he could deliver another strike, Straiah came at him with a loud yell.
The barbarian caught his blow with his own sword and the two swords locked. The barbarian thrust Straiah's sword away with a powerful heave and swung again. Off balance, Straiah narrowly ducked the blow, scrambling off to one side. The barbarian swung again. Straiah caught his blow, again locking the swords, but the barbarian shoved him into the wall of the nearby cottage.
Straiah hit the wall with a thud, nearly knocking the wind from his lungs and dislodging a handful of burning straw from above. The blades of the two swords inched toward his throat as the burning rooftop lit flames in the barbarian's eyes.
Straiah was pinned. The barbarian was too powerful. He glanced round for anything that could aid him. The cold metal of both blades now dug into his throat. But more of the burning straw fell from above, a large chunk landing on the barbarian's head.
He jumped back with a yell, brushing the embers from his face. Straiah stepped forward and blocked a wild swing across his chest. The barbarian reared up for another blow, but Straiah sidestepped it and struck him dead.
Nearby, the king was locked sword to sword with a barbarian, being pushed back into the line of men along the wall. Straiah darted forward with a yell. The barbarian backed away and b
locked Straiah's blow. The barbarian struck back, but Straiah narrowly ducked the blow and then stabbed the barbarian in the gut. Turning, he found the king leaning forward on his knees and catching his breath.
“Straiah...The horsemen...You must keep them from flanking us!”
“We can't leave you. The line is barely holding!”
“Go!” commanded the king, shoving Straiah backward.
He hesitated a moment.
“Half a dozen pikemen, with me!” Straiah yelled.
But just as he turned to leave, another barbarian sprang across the wall, landing just beside him. Straiah ducked the swing of his large battle-axe and came round behind him, but the barbarian followed through with the axe head's momentum, spinning around and rearing up for a downward blow.
Straiah barely hopped backward, the axe head burying in the dirt. Straiah raised his sword for a blow but the barbarian abandoned his axe and sprang forward, hooking Straiah around the waist. Straiah brought the hilt of his sword down and struck him in the head. But soon the two went tumbling down to the dirt.
The barbarian pulled a knife from his boot and plunged it down toward Straiah's chest. He caught him with both hands and plunged the knife into the dirt. Then he punched the barbarian squarely in the jaw. Straiah stood to his feet, grabbing his sword. The barbarian likewise found his axe but Straiah was on the offensive and made quick work of him.
A small group of pikemen had gathered round him waiting for orders. Straiah glanced down the line. It was holding but casualties on both sides were mounting up. The fires blazing on the rooftops were scorching the back of his neck. He unsheathed the Hammer of Haladrin from his back and departed.
The sounds of battle trailed away behind him as he and his small band sprinted through the streets of Suriya. The buildings all around were aflame and the sound of horse hooves on cobbled stone traveled down the lonely lanes. The crossroads were piled in with stone up to head level, just enough to keep the horses from hurdling them.
“Watch for grapples!” Straiah yelled.
Then he saw the streaking forms of horses galloping east through the town square with all speed. They were searching for a weakness.
“To the east!” he yelled and set off after them.
The fortifications were strong, but horses were powerful. With enough grapples, even the largest boulder could be moved. But Straiah had positioned the blockades in tight spots, to keep the horsemen from easily pulling them down. Still, if left uncontested, the barricades would crumble.
The sound of horses trailed away ahead of them. Most of the men with him carried pikes. If the riders broke through, they would use the narrow streets to their advantage and hold the horsemen back. Straiah heard the sound of metal striking stone in the distance. Hastening his pace, he came round the corner of a cottage seeing a metal grapple held tight against the top stone of one of the barricades.
He sprang forward but just as he got near, the top stone exploded away. Just then, two more grapples fell. The pikemen darted forward, jumping onto the rock pile and lunging at the unsuspecting riders and startling their horses nearly enough to send them to the ground. But the horsemen rode away, the tension on the heavy rope keeping the grapples from being dislodged.
“Move!” yelled Straiah, who rushed forward with the hammer and swung down one of the grapples, maiming it beyond use and cracking the rock it was affixed to.
He reared up to destroy the other, but caught it just as the horse reached the end of the rope. The blockade was now only chest level, low enough perhaps for a horse to attempt a leap. The horsemen galloped forward.
“Pikes!” yelled Straiah.
The pikemen thrust their weapons over the top of the blockade, the horses at full gallop, bearing down. But just as the horses reached them, they reared up, the riders swinging at the pikes with their broadswords, trying to break them. Some of the other horsemen dashed to the west.
“One of you, defend this blockade! The rest with me!”
The riders were much swifter and would spread them thin along the edges of their boxed fortification. But they only needed to stall them awhile. The battle for the northern line wouldn't last much longer.
They sprinted as quickly as their feet could carry them. But far before they arrived at the western end of town, they heard the sound of smashing rocks. They came around a corner just in time to see two grapples tearing the top section off the stone blockade. The pikemen ran forward. But a barbarian on horseback appeared, bow in hand.
“Take cover!” Straiah yelled and darted for a nearby cottage.
But the barbarian loosed an arrow, striking one of the pikemen. Two more grapples clanked down on the rock. Straiah peered round the corner to see the barbarian archer holding fast, bow pointed in their direction. Straiah gripped the hammer tightly in his hand.
Then, with a yell, he sprang from cover, diving forward with a roll. He heard the snap of the bow, and felt a whizzing just over his head. Rolling forward onto his feet, he crouched and sprinted toward the wall, disappearing below the archer's line of sight.
Rearing up, he smashed the two grapples with the hammer. But the blows not only destroyed the grapples, they also shattered more of the barricade. Straiah ducked behind a nearby cottage. The blockade was still chest high, tall enough to keep horses out. But the barbarian archer still held his aim down the street sheltering Straiah and his small band of pikemen.
He heard another horsemen gallop forward. But instead of the familiar sound of a grapple, more stone exploded from the top of the barricade. Straiah peeked around the corner to see a large barbarian with a war hammer smashing the barricade down.
There was nothing they could do. The archer had them pinned. They would just have to wait. Some of the stone of the wall rolled down and fell near Straiah's feet. Crouching down, he picked up a smooth round stone and held it in his hands. The barbarian warrior continued to rip down the wall.
Then, between blows, Straiah came round the corner and hurled the rock at the unsuspecting archer. He turned and loosed his arrow at Straiah, but the shot went wide and the rock hit him in the chin, knocking him from his horse.
“Pikemen!” Straiah yelled and sprang forward.
The barbarian with the war hammer turned and rode off. The pikemen came out of hiding and rushed forward. But Straiah heard galloping quickly coming their direction. The wall had been smashed in half, barely hip high. Two horsemen were nearly upon him.
Straiah had no choice but to duck out of the way as two horses leaped the low barricade, one after the other and entered their boxed fortification. The pikemen were upon them in an instant, but both barbarians wielded broadswords and were striking out against the pikes and holding their own.
Straiah couldn't help them. The hammer was useless against horsemen with broadswords. Glancing around, he darted for the fallen pikeman struck by an arrow and took his weapon. Then he came against the barbarian horsemen.
They were still pinned against the barricade, but the archer had gotten back on his horse and was circling round just behind the wall, looking for a clear shot against the pikemen who ducked and darted to keep the two horsemen in the way.
Straiah ran forward, lunging with a yell toward one of the horsemen. The rider narrowly ducked the blow, swinging down wide at Straiah, who in turn dodged, and then struck out again, piercing the rider in the gut.
But the other barbarian cleaved his pike in two and swung the butt of his horse round, knocking into Straiah and sending him tumbling into two other pikemen. Then he swung out at the last pikemen still standing, chopping the tip of his pike with a powerful swing.
The rider came forward, rearing up on his horse and stomping down where the three soldiers had fallen. Straiah and the two men rolled out of the way, but the horse pursued them fiercely with its hooves, trying to crush them. By the time Straiah rolled to his feet, two more horsemen had leaped the wall.
Straiah was now disarmed, his pike and another lay on the ground behind
the horseman. They had but one pike left between them. They had no choice but to retreat back to the forward line. Straiah could only hope they had bought King Froamb enough time.
“Back to the line!” Straiah yelled.
The Battle for Ogrindal
Whinden was almost shaking in fury.
“Someone arrest them!” Whinden yelled. “And go and find Pallin!”
“It's too late” Gwaren responded. “Pallin is already gone. I am the commander of our Forest Guard. We will fulfill our duty to stop whatever comes to threaten the people of Ogrindal.”
“You have violated the will of this council, Gwaren,” said another of the leaders.
“Tohrnan is right,” said Whinden. “Why should we allow you the honor of captaining our forces any longer?”
“There is a war coming,” Sheabor said, taking a step forward. “I'm sorry it's come so soon to your doorstep, but it was coming nonetheless. Gwaren has done you a service. The army you now face is but a fraction of what Corcoran will unleash on this realm.”
“We must prepare for battle,” said Gwaren. “If it is the decision of Ogrindal that I step down from command, I will fight alongside the men under a new captain. But whatever your decision, we need it now.”
Just then, as a testament to Gwaren's words, the distant sound of a horn filled the air, drawing ever near.
“Go,” said Whinden.
Gwaren bowed and departed, followed by Sheabor, Baron and Blair.
“How long until Malfur reaches us?” Sheabor asked.
“Tomorrow evening.”
Gwaren descended the steps of the building and stopped at the base, turning to Sheabor.
“Tell me everything about Malfur. What are his weaknesses and how can he be killed?”
Sheabor shook his head. He didn't know.
“Ogrindal lies at the base of the Ruhkan Mountains,” Sheabor replied. “That should shield us from the brunt of Malfur's power. And the wall surrounding the city is made of a solid piece of wood from the old world. If they're intent on taking this place, it will cost them many men.”
The Banished Lands- The Complete Series Page 25