by Peter Last
“True,” Lemin conceded, “but with as few men as we have…”
“Guys,” Petra interrupted, and Timothy and Lemin looked at him. Petra gestured toward the fields to the south of the city. The magicians gasped as they saw where Petra was pointing. The moon was hidden behind a cloud, but even in the dim light, the soldiers could see that the field was crowded with ranks upon ranks of men for as far as they could see. Suddenly a soldier further down the wall began to shout.
“Idiot!” Lemin hissed. “What does he want to do? Just tell the enemy what’s happening?”
“Make a sound-absorbing spell,” Timothy suggested, and the two magicians immediately lapsed into silence as they struggled to weave a web of magic over the wall. Though Timothy was unable to construct something outside of his area of expertise, he was able to help the older magician with the task.
“I don’t care what you have to do, but shut that man up,” Lemin gasped to Josiah. Josiah turned and ran down to the agitated soldier. Petra, at a loss for what to do, followed him telling everyone they passed to keep silent. Less than a minute later, he saw in the distance that Josiah had reached the man that was shouting in ecstasy. As Petra drew closer, he could hear Josiah reasoning with the man to be silent.
“But look out there!” the man shouted. “It’s a lot of…” Josiah brought his elbow up into the man’s face, cutting off his shout. The man slumped to the wall unconscious.
“I never liked that guy anyway,” Josiah muttered to Petra as he ran up, “and Lemin did say to shut him up no matter what I had to do.” Petra gave a dry laugh and turned with Josiah to look out at the approaching army of reinforcements.
“How many men would you say are out there?” Josiah asked as he leaned on the crenellation.
“Well, it’s pretty dark,” Petra said, “but I would say there are anywhere between ten and fifteen thousand soldiers, and most of them are veterans. My guess is that the majority of them are elves. Probably only a fourth or a fifth of them are human with no more than a few hundred orcs in the ranks."
“I suppose the grand admiral will want to have all of the officers with him when he meets the leader of this force, so I’d better go find him,” Josiah said. Petra followed him down the wall to the nearest group of soldiers.
“There’s no place for us to keep all of them,” Petra commented, gesturing to the approaching army.
“I’m sure we’ll think of something,” Josiah said. “Though they’ll probably have to sleep at the foot of the wall,” he added.
“If they get any sleep at all,” Petra said. “My guess is that it will take the majority of the night to get them up onto the wall, after which they will be positioned in a way to maximize the effect of their attack. By the time all of that is done, it will almost be sunrise, and the fight will begin.”
As the two men neared a group of soldiers, Josiah held up a hand to silence Petra and turned his attention to the warriors who were leaning up against the wall’s crenellation.
“Do any of you know where the grand admiral is?” he asked.
“At his headquarters with his officers,” one of the soldiers spoke up. “He’s getting ready to meet the leader of our reinforcements and is gathering all of his commanders together to be there when he does.”
“He always did like his ceremonies,” Josiah commented, positioning himself so that his rank was visible to the men. The soldiers jumped to attention and saluted Josiah, who returned their salute.
“At ease, men, and thank you for the information,” he said. Without another word, he spun on his heels and headed for the grand admiral’s headquarters.
“I guess those guys didn’t expect you to be a commander,” Petra commented.
“The other commanders go about flaunting their rank and using it to get what they want,” Josiah answered. “Since I don’t do that, I am a bit of an anomaly, and many people do not suspect my rank.”
“I’m wondering if people respect you for your humility,” Petra said thoughtfully, “or if they prefer the other commanders. At least with the other ones, they know who they are dealing with all of the time. With you, they can’t immediately tell what you're like.”
Josiah suddenly stopped and spun to face Petra, moving in so that he was only inches away. “I do things the way that I do because I think it is best for my men,” he said with a touch of hostility in his voice. “If you ever question who the men respect more, you should ask them. I’m confident that they will give me a good report.” Without another word, Josiah whirled around and headed toward the grand admiral’s headquarters.
“Whoa!” Petra said. He ran after Josiah, talking as he moved. “Sorry, Commander. I didn’t mean to insult you; I was just asking a question.” Josiah paid him no heed so he discontinued talking and lengthened his stride to keep up.
When they had almost reached the headquarters of the grand admiral, Josiah stopped and turned around. He started to talk, but Petra cut him off. “Look, Josiah, I’m sorry if I insulted you back there. I was just asking a question and didn’t know what I was saying. I mean….”
Josiah stopped him with a hand. “Petra, there’s nothing more you need to say. I need to apologize to you for becoming angry with you. You see, I have had quite a bit of criticism over the past years concerning the way I hold my positions of authority. When I heard what you said, I immediately thought you were attacking me, and I retaliated. It was not until afterward that I thought better of it.”
“That’s okay, Josiah,” Petra said. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have said anything.”
“And I’m sure you wouldn’t have, but I’m just telling you this so that we don’t part on bad terms.”
“Why? Where are you going?”
Josiah sighed. “The grand admiral really likes his ceremonies, which means that he’ll want all of his officers to be with him when he receives the one in command of the army outside our walls. He wants to make the correct impression, which means that you’ll not get to be there, seeing that you have no rank of importance.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Petra responded. “So when will I see you again?”
“Whenever this meeting is over,” Josiah called over his shoulder. He turned his head forward and muttered, “And who knows when that will be.”
Petra watched Josiah for several seconds before turning away to go find something to do. “After all,” he said to himself, “there has to be something I can do in an army that’s preparing for battle.”
******
Petra ran the whet stone over the blade of his sword again and gazed out to where he had last seen the grand admiral and his group of officers. He sat with his back against a water barrel that was positioned on the wall and, for the hundredth time, ran his hand up and down the smooth blade of his sword, searching for scratches and chips. He found none, of course, since he had already worked them all out more than half an hour ago. Turning his attention back to the sword blade, he ran the whet stone across it twice more before testing it on his finger. It was razor sharp, so he laid it across his knees. He leaned his head back against the barrel and looked up at the dark sky, wondering what the outcome of the next day’s battle would be. Inadvertently, his thoughts turned into prayers as he asked Elohim for protection on him and the entire army. As he prayed, his nerves slowly calmed, and he opened his eyes and looked about himself. The same soldiers still stood on the wall at regular intervals, and they still possessed the same weapons. The same dwarf army was still encamped in the city, yet everything seemed just a little brighter.
With another glance toward the south, Petra rose to his feet. Swiftly he slid his sword back into its sheath and belted it around his waist. After checking the straps on his equipment, he walked down the wall toward the nearest tower. As he stepped through the doorway, everything suddenly changed. Outside, clouds had covered the sky, making the darkness almost oppressive. It was broken only at intervals by torches. The interior of the tower, however, was brightly lit in order to acco
mmodate the soldiers inside who were getting ready for the battle the next day. The light also caused the activity in the tower to be more spirited than that outside. Swordsmen passed around handheld whet stones to sharpen their weapons, while others operated large ones that spun in a circle so as to more quickly sharpen weapons. Archers tested the strings of their bows and checked their arrows to make sure that they were razor sharp.
As Petra scanned the people inside the tower, his gaze lit on one person—a girl who couldn’t be more than sixteen. He thought he recognized her from someplace, but he couldn’t figure out where. After trying in vain to recall where he had seen her, he decided to go and introduce himself. “Perhaps her name will jog my memory,” he decided. He crossed the tower to where she was inspecting her bow for any imperfections. He cleared his throat, and she looked up at him.
“Hello,” he began, “my name is Petra Bentinck, and I was wondering…”
“Did you say Petra?” the girl cut him off to ask. Petra nodded with excitement, but his hope that she recognized him was dashed when she turned back to her bow and said, “So you must be the messenger from Gatlon.”
“Well, yes I am, but that’s not why I came over to talk to you,” he said. “I came to ask you a question.”
“A question?” the girl repeated. She looked back at Petra with a look of interest on her face. “Well, have at it. If I can answer, I will.”
“Do I know you from somewhere?” Petra asked. The girl’s face quickly took on a look of confusion, so he explained himself. “You look really familiar to me, as if I know you from somewhere, but I can’t place you.”
“I don’t know you from anywhere,” the girl said. “Not that I can remember anyway.”
She turned back to her bow and left Petra standing awkwardly in front of her. Just as he was about to turn away, another cadet came up. He was tall and well built, with short cropped brown hair. In his hand he held a sword that had runes etched along its entire length.
“Senndra, do you have a whet stone?” he asked.
Senndra. The name rattled around in Petra’s head, yet no matter how many times he said it to himself, it still had no effect except to irritate him. How could he recognize someone and yet not recognize them? He was pulled from his thoughts by the cadet who had asked for the whet stone.
“Do you have one?” the cadet asked, making a motion as though trying to remember a name.
“Petra,” Petra answered, sticking his hand out automatically. “And your name is?”
“Cirro,” the cadet answered, taking Petra’s outstretched hand. “You’re the messenger from Gatlon, aren’t you?” he asked. “You don’t happen to have a whet stone on you, do you?”
“Actually, I do,” Petra answered and withdrew the rock from his pocket. “By the way, how did you know my name?”
“I heard it from Josiah,” Cirro said as he ran the stone over his sword blade.
“Then you know Josiah?” Petra asked.
“Yep, sure do,” Cirro answered as he sighted down his sword blade. “I’m under his command, so I hear lots from him. News of you spread pretty quickly through the ranks. I have to say that I admire you for staying to fight. We’re going to need all the help we can get tomorrow.”
“Hear, oh Magessa, you are going to battle against your enemies, but do not be apprehensive or afraid,” Petra said. “Do not be terrified or give way before the enemy. For Elohim goes into battle before you, and it is He who will fight for you to give you the victory.” Cirro gave him a quizzical look, so he explained, “Those are the words given by Elohim Himself that are to be spoken to embolden the armies of Magessa. They are in the holy book in the fifth section of the law.”
“Yes, I know,” Cirro answered. He slid his sword into its sheath. “I am only surprised because there are very few nowadays who can quote the word of Elohim. To me it seems that it is all but forgotten.”
“Sadly, that is true,” Petra said, “and without the help of Elohim, this country is lost, not only physically, but also spiritually. If the people do not turn back to Elohim soon, I wonder if it wouldn’t be better for the country to be overrun; for indeed, the spiritual deadness of the country is appalling.”
“True, and yet all we can do now is stand against the enemies of Magessa and hope that they are not a judgment sent upon us for our sins,” Cirro responded. “Indeed, if this is another punishment of the country, I know we shall fail to defend this city.”
“But I do not think this is judgment,” Petra said. “I can’t help but believe that Elohim would warn us of the coming of His wrath as He has in the past. No, I believe that this is simply an effort by the enemies of Elohim to destroy His chosen people.”
“If that is so,” Cirro said “I am not afraid to stand between the dwarves and my country. If this is not from Him, that means He is on our side. And if He be for us, who can be against us?”
“Agreed,” Petra stated and lapsed into silence. He turned to examine Senndra again. He could tell that the silence was making her uneasy, and she soon broke it.
“Petra,” she began, “you quoted the holy book not that long ago, so I was wondering if there are any other verses that you know, maybe a verse of comfort?”
“Indeed there is,” Petra answered. “As one of the prophets said, ‘The Lord is gracious, a steady rock in the troubled day; and He keeps watch over those who put their trust in Him.’”
Senndra was silent for several moments before she responded.
“Thanks, Petra,” she finally said. “I really needed that.”
An elf entered the tower, followed by countless more, all of whom moved through it and down the wall.
“Well, finally,” Cirro said. “Maybe we can finally get this show on the road.”
Six
Lemin, Timothy, Vladimir, Senndra, and the rest of the cadets from the academy in Belvárd watched as rank after rank of soldiers flowed over the wall and into the city. There was already a small army inside, and not even all of the humans were inside. The last of them scaled the wall using ropes and makeshift ladders and used the gatehouse stairs to descend to the ground. For a moment all was silent on the wall then, from inside one of the towers, the elves marched in ranks down the wall. At the head of the column walked a solitary elf. He was clean-shaven and wore no helmet, so it could be seen that he had short, blond hair. His breastplate was not decorated with the same insignia as those of the men from Gatlon; instead, a picture of a sword crossed with a palm leaf graced his armor. The metal bracers on his arms could not hide the huge muscles underneath, and his greaves had a hard time containing the elf’s highly muscled legs. A short sword hung at his side, and an elegant battle ax was slung on his back. He approached the grand admiral of Saddun.
“I am Grand Admiral Wellter of the city of Lêf, at your service,” he said, making a fist with his right hand and hitting the left side of his chest with it. He left the fist on his chest for a second before allowing it to drop.
“It is I who am at your service,” the grand admiral of Saddun replied, imitating the elf’s gesture. “Indeed, if not for you, we would be lost. Your coming has saved us.”
“Wellter?” Lemin blurted suddenly, a question on his face.
“Lemin?” the elfin grand admiral said, staring at the magician. Suddenly he was running across the wall, and then the two elves were embracing and slapping each other on the back.
“What have you been up to, you old hooligan?” Lemin asked, releasing Wellter. “A grand admiral? You must have done something with your life after I left.”
“Just normal military promotion,” Wellter tried to explain. But Lemin wouldn’t accept that answer.
“Yeah right; I've been in the military a lot longer than you, and I never made it that high.”
“I pulled off some important victories in a war in…” Wellter glanced at the nearby humans, “the land over the sea. I actually brought about the final victory which is, after all, a big deal.”
“Sur
e, that’s ‘just normal military promotion,’” Lemin snorted. “I should have known that you would have been at the front of the war.”
“So you have heard of it, then?” Wellter asked.
“Only bits and pieces, but I did gather that the…” Lemin coughed as he caught himself. “I did gather that those in the north were advancing on the city between the rivers.”
“Indeed,” Wellter responded. “They were trying to wipe out all of those that worship Elohim. Actually, their plan was to pass us by and attack another tribe to the south; however, that tribe was our brother in the religious sense. This, combined with the fact that they would be a threat until we confronted them, led us to attack them as they passed. This brought on a full-scale war which, thanks to Elohim, we won.”
“You always have to be in the thick of things, don’t you?” Lemin said with a laugh. “We can catch up later, I guess,” he added. “Right now we have a battle to fight.”
“You are right,” Wellter said and returned to the grand admiral of Saddun. Lemin took his place among his cadets.
“So who is he?” Timothy asked in a whisper, as the formalities took place between the two grand admirals.
“In another life, I commanded a task force that was composed entirely of magicians,” Lemin explained. “He was one of the magicians on my team, as was Senndra’s father.”
“I didn’t know that you knew her father,” Timothy said.
“Neither does she, and I would like to keep it that way,” Lemin said. “I have my reasons for not wanting her to know, and I ask that you not tell her what you know.”
“Whatever you say, sir,” Timothy replied and turned his attention back to the army of elves. The formalities had been hastily completed, and the elves were now marching down the gatehouse stairs to take their place in the battle lines in the city. When the last of the army had descended from the wall, the cadets left their formation and put the finishing touches on their weapons and battle gear. Seconds later Josiah, followed by Petra and four other men, approached Lemin. Timothy recognized the other men as the commanders of the cadets from Saddun, but he would not have guessed it from their looks or the way they carried themselves. They had the rough look of men who had seen their fair share of battles, and their bearing also seemed to imply that they were much more experienced than they actually were. A map was in Josiah’s hand, and when he reached the magician, he knelt down and unrolled it. Lemin and the other commanders knelt down beside him and began to point to different spots on the map and make gestures with their hands. Timothy got close enough so that he could see what they were pointing at and overhear their conversation.