“That’s good enough for me!” Lord Oakley said apparently having seen enough proof that the village was being controlled by the cultists. As to why they were herding people, he had no idea, but was something he intended to find out.
Rejoining the rest of the soldiers, Lord Oakley gave instructions to his chain of command, before turning his attention to Anis.
“Can you wield a sword?”
The question came as a shock. While no soldier, it was something he had practised and felt comfortable with in his hand, which he duly explained.
“Very well. Stay close,” Lord Oakley replied before signalling for one of his men to hand over a sword to Anis.
The plan was very similar to the one the group had used just a few hours earlier in Tarpley, with them splitting into two groups. One was led by Lord Oakley and would head straight into the village, while the second led by a soldier named Robert would swing out wide and make their way in from the other side. With swords out and one final check that everyone was ready, Lord Oakley gave the signal to charge. Although feeling as nervous as he had ever been, Anis kicked his heels into the flanks of his horse and with his reins in one hand and sword in the other, thundered over the brow of the hill towards the village of Bagley Down.
Like a rumbling thunder, the horses picked up speed as they approached, once more spreading out into a wide line. Anis found himself just a couple of men further down the line away from Lord Oakley, and next to a younger man called Oster. Feeling his heart racing quicker than his horse was travelling and thumping louder than the horse's hooves, Anis joined the chorus of cries and shouts as they moved in to strike. Several people dressed in everyday clothes hurriedly scampered out of the way, taking refuge in the nearest buildings. The two figures in black robes they had seen near the pen realised the hopelessness of merely standing and fighting and tried to flee. However, Anis spotted both men and pointed them out to Oster riding beside him. The soldier gave a nod of his head and called for a few men to follow; Anis took it upon himself to include himself in that number despite being told to stay close to Lord Oakley.
The two cultists seemed to be heading for the main building at the centre of the village, but thankfully neither got close. Oster was first to strike as the slowest of the two, realising he wasn’t going to make it to safety pulled his own short sword and waved it somewhat pathetically in defence. Oster merely rode on by, slashing down with one swift and powerful strike sending a spray of blood up into the air and the man to his imminent death. Although Anis thought he might be in with a chance of catching the second cultist, the man turned sharply left before he could react accordingly. However, the runner didn’t make it much further as one of the men riding just behind Anis managed to divert his horse in time and in a similar move to the one used by Oster, cut the cultist down.
Oster pulled his horse to a halt and being unsure what else to do, Anis did similarly.
“Just the two of them?” he asked glancing around thinking there would have been more.
“There!” Oster shouted using his sword as a pointer. Anis turned his head quickly and spotted several black-robed figures filing out of the main building, a couple of which held crossbows. Thinking that Oster would be a little more tactful now faced with a weapon of range, Anis was greatly mistaken. With a kick of his heels, the man’s horse was already galloping straight for the group of cultists before Anis had even had a chance to move. Noticing others were doing likewise, and not wanting to look a coward, he duly joined in once more, crying out and raising his sword aloft as he charged.
Anis thought the man called Oster was either very brave or very stupid as he thundered his horse at full speed directly at one of the men wielding a crossbow. However, whether it was the cultist being nervy, or the fact that a sword-wielding madman was riding very quickly towards him, when the weapon was fired it missed by some distance. Realising the crossbow would never be loaded again before the oncoming riders approached the cultist in question ducked around the side of the building. Oster though, along with a couple of others were already engaging the remaining cultists, and Anis took it upon himself to chase the fleeing man down.
With the adrenaline pumping, Anis felt no fear, only a wild exultation at the thrill of combat. His horse seemed to know what he wanted it to do, moving swiftly and effortlessly around the main building to where the enemy had fled. Expecting to catch sight of the man still running away, Anis was somewhat surprised he was nowhere to be seen. That was until he felt something hit him from the side, knocking him clean off his horse. With his sword clasped firmly in his hand, Anis felt the wind knocked from his lungs as he hit the ground with a thump. Dazed and somewhat unsure as to what had just hit him, Anis made out a black-robed figure scrambling to his feet just a few paces away.
With his body screaming at him to remain still, Anis knew he had to move and get up or die. The cultist had evidently been waiting for someone to follow, and as Anis had been focused on the area ahead of him, he had failed to notice the man standing upon a pile of wooden crates. The cultist, although covered in dust from hitting the ground, let out a laugh as he pulled a long thin dagger out from beneath his robe.
“You’re out of your depth boy,” the man sniggered. Although Anis thought he was about to meet his death, the thought in his mind was that the man saying those words was probably not much older than he was, yet had thought to refer to him as ‘boy’.
Trying to get his breath back, Anis shuffled back a little as the man approached. Although still holding his sword, Anis felt the pain of trying to move his arm when he tried to lift it. With the attitude of do or die, Anis let out a loud scream, one final cry that helped force his body to work. Finding a deeper will and strength, he clambered to his feet and lunged at the oncoming cultist, swinging his aching arm around. Anis didn’t actually aim for any particular body part with his sword, and just aimed in the direction of his enemy. Clearly not expecting Anis to manage an attack the man was caught a little off-guard as Anis’ blade caught him across the shoulder. The cultist let out his own cry, but this was one of pain and agony.
Bloodied and covered in dust, Anis went in for the kill but was stopped in his tracks as another figure came thundering up behind his opponent and cut him down.
“Are you okay, Anis?” Lord Oakley asked him, all but ignoring the man he had just sent sprawling to the ground.
Anis managed a nod of his head to indicate that he was, even though every part of his body suggested otherwise.
“Get back on your horse. It’s pulled up just over there,” the Lord said pointing off to his left. Again, Anis just nodded and after turning to see where exactly ‘there’ was, shuffled his feet in that direction. With shouts and cries going on around him, Anis become completely oblivious to everything going on around him. As if not actually there, the figures darted about to his left and right, little more than blurry shapes in a thick fog.
Chapter 15. Reunited.
Progress back over the border into Scarwood was much slower than the trip heading out. With over forty refugees taken from Bagley Down, many of whom were crammed into carts and wagons, the pace was a somewhat more leisurely affair. Having dealt with the cultists, who had effectively taken over the village, Lord Oakley had given all those he had freed the option to return back to Scarwood with him or remain and fend for themselves. While some were originally from his lands, including those taken from Tarpley, half of them had been collected from other areas in Brenthellin. While not technically Lord Oakley’s responsibility he had taken it upon himself to help them. Having gathered as many horses and wagons as they could from Bagley Down, and as many supplies, as they could carry, the enlarged group made their way back towards Tarpley.
Anis, somewhat battered and bruised from his ordeal had been reunited with his younger sister. With both still grieving over their lost father, Anis knew he now needed to step up and become the man his parents always wanted him to be. Having lost their mother several winters ago to illness, i
t was now just Anis and his sister. Having earned Lord Oakley’s trust, he had been allowed to keep the sword he had been given during the attack. Moreover, the nobleman had also requested something else of him when they returned to his village; although as yet, Anis had no idea as to what that might be.
With the day drawing to a close and the setting sun casting long shadows over the fields, the group eventually made it back as far as Tarpley. While not all those he had rescued were from the village, for now, they would all have to be accommodated there. Moreover, things needed to be put in place to avoid any repeat of what had happened. Ordinarily, the thought of people being relocated from Brenthellin to Scarwood would have been unheard of, yet those not originally from his lands appeared only too keen to move with him. Despite much of their village at Bagley Down still being intact, it had been immediately clear to Lord Oakley that the people there did not feel safe. Perhaps they saw him as some kind of liberator, or they were just grateful for him removing the cultists? Whatever the reason, they had willingly travelled with him, and now he needed to find a way to house and feed them.
As the horses were tied off and allowed to drink and feed in an area near the stream that supplied the village with fresh water, Lord Oakley started arranging the camp. Knowing now that darkness was falling he would not make it back to Garley until the next day, he focused his attention on the matter at hand. With the villagers being returned to their homes, the fact that those who had travelled with them now needed to be dealt with. As a result, Lord Oakley had requested those from Tarpley all make room for at least two more people. Those that had lived in the main farmhouse could take a few more, although this still left him with sixteen whom he needed to find shelter for.
It seemed that the cultists had no interest in the older residents, and hence there were none in the group he had rescued from Bagley Down. Once his own people had returned to their homes, it had been the younger members that had been selected by the villagers, usually the children aged twelve and under. Those that were left, consisted mainly of older boys and men under the age of thirty. While Lord Oakley would have thought these would have come in handy to work the farm and help protect the village, it seemed to share your home with such people was not so appealing. However, Lord Oakley had already thought of his own use for those yet to find accommodation.
After setting up a camp on the outskirts of the village, Lord Oakley called all those left without a place to live to gather. Using an upturned wooden crate to stand upon, allowing him to see over their heads as they all grouped near to his campfire, he made them all an offer.
“I aim to set up a training camp here at the village. Oscar, here, will be in command and I will leave a couple of others to help him.”
While Lord Oakley knew he was not offering them what they wanted, what he was giving them was better than nothing. Security, food and shelter could all be theirs if they wished to serve under him. Moreover, they would also be helping in ridding the lands of the cultists and getting paid for doing so.
Lord Oakley promised to send further provisions their way when he returned to Garley. For now, they would have to make do with tents, until such time that a more permanent building could be erected for their use. Oscar and the couple of soldiers staying behind would oversee their training, and see that they were treated fairly and rewarded for their efforts.
While Anis was happy to be home and have his sister back, Lord Oakley had requested his presence out in the makeshift camp. Although having already been asked to help out, Anis was unsure as to what it was that would be required of him. Finding Lord Oakley sat beside the campfire enjoying a drink, Anis was asked to join him. Having been allowed to keep the sword that he had been given, it was clear that the nobleman trusted him fully. Still somewhat feeling the after-effects of his fight earlier that afternoon, Anis grimaced slightly as he sat down upon an upturned wooden box.
“I would like to ask a favour of you, Anis,” Lord Oakley said seemingly in a thoughtful somewhat pensive looking mood.
Anis gazed back wondering what it was the Lord wanted of him.
“I know you are now back home, but I would like to ask you back to Garley with me. You know a little about these cultists and what they are doing.”
Anis’ first thoughts were of his sister, and having only just got her back, naturally wasn’t overly keen on leaving her again; A point he duly made.
“Bring her with you. I will see you both have somewhere to stay, and when all this is over, you can come back to Tarpley if you wish.”
Anis thought about it for a moment or two, “Do I have a choice, Sir?”
Lord Oakley smiled, the flames from the fire lighting up his face. “Of course you have a choice. I won't force you to come. If you want to stay here, by all means, do so. Perhaps even join the new recruits?”
That was something Anis had already thought of doing anyway, but having some knowledge, albeit only a little of the cultists, surely he should do all he could to help beat them?
After staring aimlessly into the fire for a while, Anis made up his mind what to do. Although he would have liked to have stayed and settled back into the old way of life, with his father gone, perhaps it was time to start afresh. Surely Garley would also be a better and safer place for his sister should the cultists return, and the thought of being able to help just confirmed what he was about to do was right.
“Lord Oakley, I will accept your offer.”
“Excellent,” Lord Oakley replied clapping his hands together. “We head out at first light, have yourselves packed and ready to go by then please.”
Anis nodded his understanding, and knowing there was little time to do much, especially as he needed some rest, he excused himself from the present company and headed back to the small family home.
His sister, Lorna, had got the fire lit in the hearth and had filled the small copper kettle that hung over it. Unsure as to how she would react to the news that he had agreed to another move, Anis thought it best to explain things as they were. After asking Lorna to sit down, he pulled up another seat and sat right opposite her taking her hand in his own, before telling her what Lord Oakley had asked of him.
“So we move out?” She asked, just verifying the main matter of fact.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
Lorna cast her brother a smile, which only appeared all the more warmer in the light of the fire, “In all honesty, I’m not sure living here without father would be the same. Perhaps a new start would be best.”
Anis returned his sister’s smile with one of his own, before leaning forward and giving her a hug.
In Garley, Lord Dalby had returned several hours earlier and updated Samuel and his mother as to the reasons behind Lord Oakley not being with him. The fact that only Lord Dalby and just four other men had returned had initially sent Lady Oakley into a wave of panic, thinking that all the others had been lost in some great battle. Thankfully, after a brief explanation of what had gone on, she had quickly calmed, although Samuel, for one, could tell that his mother had been shocked by the initial thought. Knowing that war would happen, the thought that those he loved, his family and friends might lose their lives had not really been something he had considered in any great depth before. However, after seeing his mother’s reaction, it had apparently opened his mind to a greater sense that this was something that could happen. Perhaps any fighting in the kingdom might not affect them, but he was sure that as long the young prince was in his care, trouble was sure to head their direction.
Having been left in charge, albeit only temporarily while his father was away, Samuel had opened his mind to other things as well. Having to deal with various people had been much harder than he ever thought possible, and just from the day’s experience he now realised just how difficult his father’s job actually was. It seemed that there was always something that needed doing, or a person that needed seeing, or an issue that needed dealing with. With so much going on and ensuring that the prince was well prote
cted, Samuel was actually glad he didn’t have to do this every day, yet knew that sometime in the future this would be his legacy.
Sitting in his father’s office, Samuel gazed somewhat vacantly at the flame of the lamp on the desk. Knowing that having the prince in their home increased the chances of something bad happening to his family, he strangely felt no animosity towards the boy. Yes, Luca could undoubtedly be stubborn, sometimes appear rude, and it was quite apparent that he was spoilt, yet Samuel had seen the lad for what he really was. Underneath the tough façade, there was a boy, unsure, perhaps even a little scared as to what the future held. If anybody’s life had been turned on its head, it was probably Luca’s, something that Samuel understood.
By pure coincidence, a knock sounded at the door, and the very person Samuel had been thinking about was standing there. Edward, as per usual, was right behind Luca, and the two waited to be asked in before entering.
“I just wanted to see if you had heard anything more?” Luca asked as he duly took the seat Samuel gestured for him towards.
“Nothing new. He should be back in the morning,” Samuel replied trying to stifle a yawn as the events of the last day or so were finally taking their toll.
“I hope he stays safe. I would like to speak with him when he returns if I may?” Luca added.
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