by S. K. Ng
The majority of the crowd were quiet. Most of them were shocked at the unexpected contents of the speech. A few rare individuals threw rotten vegetables at the podium, though Mayor Etner was no longer there as he had been rapidly escorted away by a few soldiers. The crowd dispersed a few moments later, though the look of anger and disappointment in some were impossible to hide.
Ray, Lance and Spirit went off to the market to have breakfast. After a filling meal, the trio returned to their room.
“Ready _ be of this these few nights because the assassins will be back. Target _ of him, this time it will be Mayor Etner. Track _ we must do this to the assassins if we are to discover the perpetrator of our order’s massacre,” said Ray.
“Sure _ are you of this about this, master? Track _ are we just to do of this of them, instead of preventing the assassination?” asked Lance.
“Sure _ I am very much of this. Assassination _ of this is not of our concern, as we Elementhars are apolitical and protection of town mayors is not our profession; and it is not my quest, young Lance. Soldiers _ it is of them who are responsible for protecting the new mayor,” answered Ray.
“Wound _ what if we do of this to one of the assassins as they escape, and then follow his blood trail back to their hideout?” suggested Lance.
“Idea _ yours of this a good one, young Lance, so we shall try it,” complimented Ray as he patted Lance’s shoulder.
“Name _ by the way, master, what is it of this of the spell that you used to raise the block of earth?” asked Lance.
“Name _ of this, it is called the Stone Wall Spell,” answered Ray.
Lance set the name to memory. He wondered when Ray would teach this useful spell to him.
Meanwhile, in Windswept Forest, a lone horse-mounted Provincial Guard, of the rank servian, rode slowly along the main road heading southwest. His eyelids were drooping and he afforded several yawns while shaking his head and forcing himself to stay awake. The cool breeze of the forest seemed to make it harder for him to do so. The chirping of birds felt like a soft lullaby to his exhausted mind. He has been searching for Minvian Jussette and her pond for the past two days, hardly stopping to rest, let alone to sleep. The urgency of recalling her and her pond was of the utmost priority.
Windswept Forest covered a very large area and this made the servian’s search difficult. Suddenly, there was a loud sound. It sounded like a call of a monkey, though the servian could not be too sure. But it had jolted him awake. His heart was beating fast from the suddenness of it. Then he noticed something. There was a smell, putrid and unpleasant, that was emanating from some distance away. The servian commanded his horse forward and as he approached the side of a slow flowing stream, a ghastly scene welcomed him. There they were, Minvian Jussette and her soldiers, lying stiff on the ground. Some of the bodies were bloated while others were infested with maggots but all of them had the look of horror and panic frozen onto their rotting faces.
The servian, not a battle-proven soldier, vomited at the gory sight. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he vomited yet again. He did not get down from his horse. He could not! He was so weak and disorientated that he knew for sure he would fall if he had tried. And he also knew that he could not get back up on his horse after that. He drew his sword and cut the tether of the dead pond’s horses and set them free, those few which were still alive, anyway. They were in a weakened state and he could not bring them back with him to Fort Eastguard at galloping speed. But return to the fort at galloping speed, he must! With a heavy heart, he turned around and galloped away, vowing that if he survived the impending Serpentian attack, he would return to give Minvian Jussette and her soldiers a proper burial.
On the afternoon of the same day, a pond of Provincial Guards were galloping eastwards on the main road to Timberstock. They were in full battle gear. Their gear consisted of battle helms, chain mails, breastplates, shoulder and upper arm pieces, vambraces, groin pieces, thigh guards, greaves and shields. Their horses were laden with supplies and equipments such as food, medicine, bows, arrows and spears. They had been riding hard for the past two days. Soon they approached a bridge and were forced to slow down to a trot. The bridge spanned a very wide river, which sourced its water from the mountain ranges on the eastern border of Eastern Falls, the very same mountain ranges in which was located Fort Eastguard. And it was to Fort Eastguard that they were headed.
The pond began to cross the long, wooden bridge. Suddenly, the ground began shaking and there was a low rumbling noise. The commanding minvian, realising the graveness of the situation, ordered his pond to gallop through as fast as they could. Just when two thirds of his pond were across the bridge, it collapsed. The soldiers and horses who were still on it fell into the fast flowing current below and were swept away.
The minvian turned around and stared in disbelief. They had formed this ad hoc pond when they heard that Fort Eastguard would come under attack. They were made up of rivers from several neighbouring town garrisons in the western parts of Eastern Falls. They had ridden out almost immediately, with the intention to reinforce their comrades at the fort. And now, almost a hundred of their comrades were killed even before the battle had begun, even before they could arrive at the fort itself! The minvian yelled out a curse in frustration. The rest of his pond felt their commander’s grief, for it was their grief as well.
An exevian-ranked soldier rode up to the minvian.
“Minvian Fist Eggle, we must move on,” said the exevian.
The minvian was silent, still looking at the river that had claimed the lives of his comrades.
“Minvian Eggle?” called out the exevian again.
“So unfair!” said Minvian Eggle finally.
“It is unfair, minvian. But we must move on. We cannot bring back the dead if we stay here, but we can save our comrades at Fort Eastguard if we get moving. Sir, you have to let go!” said the exevian.
“You are right, Exevian Grunt Stemynd! We need to go,” agreed the minvian reluctantly.
Minvian Eggle started off with a trot, and then slowly progressed to a gallop. He did not order his soldiers to move. They just followed his actions and started galloping behind him. And they rode off as fast as they could to Fort Eastguard, feeling the sorrow of loss even before the battle had begun.
To the people of Easthaven Village in the northern part of Eastern Falls Province, this day started out just like any other ordinary day. At the break of dawn and after a simple breakfast, most of the men headed out to their fields to cultivate wheat and other crops while several others went into the surrounding forest to search for firewood or to hunt for meat and fur. There were even a few who headed down to the nearby river for some fishing. The women of the village worked on their knitting or handicraft items made from wood, rattan and vines gathered by the men from the forest.
When the ground shook, the men, women and animals of Easthaven lost their footing but were otherwise unharmed. The simple village houses sustained minor damage. The people of Easthaven were glad that that was the maximum extent of the damage caused by the earthquake. Some men had stopped working in their fields and had begun repairing the damage to their homes. Little did they realise the tragic fate that would befall them next.
62 armed men rushed out of the surrounding forest. These men were not bandits. They were something worse! These muscular men wore battle helms, breastplates without chain mail shirts, large capes, steel vambraces, steel greaves and leather boots. They were Serpentian soldiers, part of an advance raiding party. As these soldiers approach the outskirt of the village, a few village men grabbed their pitchforks and shovels to confront them. All the womenfolk and children ran towards the village hall for refuge.
One of the village men lunges his pitchfork at a Serpentian soldier. The soldier swings his sword sideways from right to left, parrying off the pitchfork, then executes a Left Horizontal Cut from left to right to slash at the villager’s throat. This villager falls lifeless to the ground. The second villag
er swings his shovel at another Serpentian soldier. This soldier ducks below the arc of the swing and upon straightening up, stabs the second villager in the chest and pierces his heart. Death comes instantaneously to the second villager. One of the women of the village attacks a Serpentian soldier with a kitchen knife, but the soldier grabs her attacking wrist and twists it hard. She gives out a loud cry of pain as the knife falls from her hands. The soldier then punches her in the forehead, knocking her unconscious.
Upon these sights, the rest of the armed village men dropped their weapons and surrendered. Moments later, the Serpentian soldiers bound the remainder of the villagers with ropes. The Serpentian commander laughed out loud with pleasure as he looked upon the prize of his conquest. He had won himself sacks of rice and wheat, a few boxes of gold, silver and diamond jewellery, and the 125 helpless men, women and children of Easthaven Village.
That very evening, the sky opened up and tears of the heavens fell upon the land of Free Falls once again. Streaks of lightning provided a strange shadow-play for soldiers of Fort Eastguard. These Provincial Guards moved in a hurried pace to prepare for the upcoming Serpentian attack. Large rocks were gathered to be used as ammunition for their Heavy Catapults. Food and water were stored and rationed. Swords were sharpened and countless arrows were made. A minvian-ranked soldier, in his mid-forties and of Serpentian ancestry, walked into Orgavian Deffs’ office.
“Freedom and harmony, Orgavian Ram Deffs! Minvian Thorn Sayvion making a request, sir!” said the minvian.
“Freedom and harmony! Enter and sit, Minvian Sayvion. What is it that you wish to request?” said the orgavian.
There was a sentry’s distant shout, announcing the arrival of a Provincial Guard on horseback.
“Sir, as you are well aware, we have received numerous reports of Serpentian advanced parties raiding our villages. With all due respect, sir, when will our soldiers be deployed to defend the other villages from these Serpentian raids?” enquired the minvian.
Orgavian Deffs contemplated the question in deep silence.
“They will not be deployed to defend those villages, minvian. We are as short-handed as it is. I do not have the resources to spare for their protection. The reinforcements from our own 3rd Ocean have not arrived. The Royal Guards are days away. Minvian Jussette and her pond have yet to return. I need every single soldier to stay here to prepare our defences,” replied the orgavian after a long while.
Minvian Sayvion’s jaw dropped in disbelief. He shook his head in disagreement.
“But sir, what about those villages!? Are we just going to sit by and do nothing!?” protested the minvian.
“We are not sitting by! We are preparing for the defence of this fort. This fort is of the utmost importance! It must not fall into enemy hands. As it is, the Serpentian can only mount raids by negotiating the mountainous terrain to attack our villages. Because no animal or vehicle can get through this terrain, the size of their attacks is limited and the bounties that they can bring back are also limited. But if this fort falls, they will have an open gateway to attack the entire province. They will be able to bring in their Grand Catapults and re-supply their soldiers easily using horse-drawn carts. Not just villages, but towns will be raided as well! The entire population of Eastern Falls Province, 50,000 Fallsians, will be enslaved. This fort must not fall!” stressed the orgavian.
Minvian Sayvion shook his head in frustration. He knew that Orgavian Deffs had a very strong point. Then, an idea occurred to him. It was not the best of plans, but something was better than nothing.
“Sir, I request permission to leave the fort and organise a militia defence!” said the minvian.
“Request denied, minvian! I need you here!” replied the orgavian swiftly.
There was a knock on the door. Orgavian Deffs signalled for the visitor to enter. A servian, who was soaking wet due to the ongoing downpour, entered and bowed. Both the orgavian and the minvian rose and bowed in return. The orgavian recognised the servian as the runner he had sent to look for Minvian Jussette.
“Freedom and harmony! Orgavian Deffs, Minvian Sayvion! Servian Tile Nieven reporting, sir!” said the servian.
“Freedom and harmony! Servian Nieven! Go ahead with your report,” said the orgavian.
“I have found Minvian Jussette and 3rd Pond. They are… they…,” said the servian as a several teardrops flowed from his eyes.
“Take a deep breath and calm yourself, servian. Tell me what you have found out,” said Orgavian Deffs gently, although from the servian’s composure, he knew that the news would not be good.
Servian Nieven took in a deep breath. Struggling to control his sadness, he finally managed to deliver his report.
“They are dead, sir. All of them, Minvian Jussette and 3rd Pond, I mean. I found them… found them by the side… side of a stream. Poisoned… they were all poison, sir!” continued Servian Nieven, barely.
Orgavian Deffs took in a deep and thoughtful breath, closed his eyes momentarily and shook his head slightly.
“Very well then, servian, you are dismissed. Report back to your convian and tell him I grant you six hour’s rest before your next duty,” instructed the orgavian.
Servian Nieven bowed, to which both Orgavian Deffs and Minvian Sayvion reciprocated, and then the servian turned around and left the office.
Orgavian Deffs slammed his fist onto his desk in frustration. Minvian Sayvion sat in silence. He was shocked to hear about Minvian Jussette. More importantly, he was sad. She was a close comrade. She was almost like family to him. Everyone who served at the fort was like family to him.
“If there is nothing else, minvian, you are dismissed as well,” added the orgavian.
The minvian sat silent for a while. Finally, he stood up, bowed, turned and left the orgavian’s office. He took not but five steps out of the office before smashing his fist into the wall in a fit of rage and disappointment. He steeled himself. His mind was made up. He was going to do what he knew deep inside was wrong but necessary.
The heavens continue to pour while the evening turns to night. Minvian Sayvion climbs the stairs to the top landing of the fort’s western battlements. On his back he slung his shield. On his left shoulder he carries a cloth bundle and on his right he hangs a long continuous roll of rope. Casually, he walks up to the sentry. The sentry turns and bows. The minvian bows in return. Then suddenly he rushes forward and executes a right hand punch at the sentry, hitting the unsuspecting soldier squarely in the jaw and sending him sprawling to the floor.
A nearby sentry witnesses the event and shouts out the word ‘deserter’ repeatedly. A large bell in the fort rings and scores of soldiers rush out from their barracks with their swords drawn. The sentry then rushes forward with a right hand punch, but Minvian Sayvion sidesteps to his left to avoid the punch while simultaneously grabbing the sentry’s right hand with his own right hand. Minvian Sayvion then slides forward, brings his left elbow towards his own right shoulder and then extends it outward towards the sentry’s nose while jerk-pulling his right hand backwards, and smashes the sentry’s nose. The sentry’s head snaps backwards from the impact. Blood drips from the poor man’s nose. He feels disorientated. His eyelids close. He loses consciousness. With a final jerking pull of his right hand, Minvian Sayvion sends the sentry crashing onto the floor.
In the cold and wet of the Fallsian night, Minvian Sayvion clumsily tied the rope to the closest solid structure he could find and threw the other end of the rope down the outer side of the wall and climbed down it. He landed and ran into the darkness. Several archers let loose their arrows at him. These arrows flew wild and blind. Not a single one even got close to hitting him. These archers did not have the slightest intention of injuring or killing their comrade. They did not know the reason for his desertion, but they knew him well enough to know that he had a good reason to do what he was doing.
Orgavian Ram Deffs stood at the western battlements. His facial expression was blank. But in his heart, a
whirlpool of emotions was taking place. On one hand, he was furious that his most able subordinate chose to abandon him in the time of great need. On the other hand, he was proud and in a way relieved that Minvian Sayvion had done so, because this would give the nearby villages a fighting chance for survival.
Lightning flashed across the sky as the soldiers looked at one another. The booming sound of thunder followed. After several moments of silence the soldiers dispersed, leaving two of their numbers behind to replace the injured sentries.
The full moon of the 14th Night of Second Month of Wet Season provides a faint illumination over Timberstock. At the fence of a fairly large house in a corner of this town, six soldiers of the Provincial Guards stand guard with their shields raised and swords drawn. Their looks are of alertness and anticipation. They scan the dimly lit streets before them, eyeing every shadow, shape and figure. Their breaths are heavy and their heartbeats are erratic. But all they see is calmness. All they hear is silence.
A swishing sound gently breaks the silence as a spinning metal object cuts through the air and embeds itself into its designated target. The soldier cannot call for help. The object has cut his throat and is now blocking the airflow to his lungs. Red liquid sprays out from the wound, drenching the soldier in his own blood. Within moments, his five comrades share the same fate. A few moments later, four assassins of the Shadow Deathmerchant Clan jump silently over the fence and cut across the lawn with relative ease.