The High King: A Tale of Alus

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The High King: A Tale of Alus Page 15

by Wigboldy, Donald


  Gerid drained his glass in a single gulp and it was returned to the collapsible table between them. "I guess that is part of it. When we first arrived at Paxthos, Rastei and I went in to scout it out thoroughly. We were discovered before we could leave but, to make sure that the information about Kloste reached you, I sent Rastei away while I fought to draw their attention away from him. There were just too many for one man to try to defeat and, as I fought, one of my swords shattered as well." He paused a moment and turned. His eyes closed in reflection before the young man stated quietly, "I think I was killed, sir."

  "What?!" the commander shouted in surprise. "You stand before me full of life and blood now, boy. Your skin is warm to the touch and, even now, I can witness you breathing. How can you say such a ludicrous thing to me when you stand here talking?"

  A second glass was immediately poured out for each of them thanks to the awkwardness of the conversation. Gerid sighed as he gazed at the liquid glinting with bits of light gathered from the lanterns hanging around them to brighten the enclosed tent. "I tried to stifle the talk amongst my command, but the more I consider the matter the more I wonder if they're not actually right." Gerid removed his armor and then the shirt beneath. Pulling the bandages away, they could see that the wounds were about ready for the stitches to be removed. "Look. These wounds were made only yesterday, but not only are they not death causing, they are nearly healed less than a day later. I remember as I fell that I believed my life was running out of my chest, and yet I’ve healed like a creature of magic and legend. My thoughts keep running to a prophecy given to my father on the day of my birth. I was born with white hair, mind you. They said that I was the first of a select few and that I had a long and powerful destiny ahead of me. Could they have meant such a prediction assures that I can even survive a death wound?"

  Kolonus sat down limply as if his legs could no longer support him. "You are asking the wrong person, Gerid," he replied sounding utterly drained. The commander poured himself a third glass, even though Gerid still held his second untouched before him. "I am a soldier, boy, and not much for thinking on philosophy or sorcery. Given what you tell me, I'd almost believe that you were a fool or idiot, but I know that you are not. I've seen men that were stabbed through the heart that managed to hang onto life long enough to slay their own killer, but you are not just surviving, Gerid, you are thriving." He shook his head before draining his glass again. "I truly don't know what to make of it," the older man confessed brushing at his thinning dark hair.

  "I know. You stare at the same things that I do and wonder the exact thoughts that confound me. If I was indeed slain, then why am I still alive? I feel better than I ever have, I have to confess. Does that mean that some demon or sorcerer, or perhaps even one of the gods, could have decided to do something to me?"

  The commander sat quietly as he lit and then began to puff thoughtfully on a long cigar. Gerid nursed his brandy as he started to pace the small space uncomfortably. Kolonus finally spoke, "I still have no idea. As I said, I am just a soldier. It's not in my mind to believe in such strangeness. Swords, shields and blood I know. Let me ask you something else though. Do you think that you will still be able to lead your men? If you need time away for a short while, I am sure that I could arrange it. We're starting to meet the Enswerian forces now, Gerid, and I need to be able to trust all my lieutenants implicitly."

  "I led them well enough for the past day, since it happened," he sighed. "Once we get back into battle, I am sure that everything will be forgotten and feel the same. My strength won't fail me again," the young man insisted though he felt the slightest bit of doubt inside his chest.

  "It is a good thing to have confidence, but remember not to test whether you can still die. It may have been a gift, but testing whether it works more than one time..." The older man sighed, "I think that I've begun to use that plan as the way to run my command lately. I told Carter this winter that I thought it was about time for Karma to take the reins of these mercenaries now. Yesterday's battle and now this, they're beginning to remind me of my age, boy. Thirty years of warring and look where it’s gotten me. Rhearden still continues to fend off its enemies and I continue to send good men to their deaths. I tire of it. What do you think?"

  Gerid shrugged, "I can definitely understand your tiring of this life. No comforts of home and always awaiting the final death strike. I hope to one day return to my homeland and liberate it from that evil king's clutches. Then maybe I'll be able to retire to a nice plot of land where I can farm and raise a family in peace."

  "It's a nice dream," Kolonus agreed around the cigar in his mouth. Weeks passed after that talk and soon a whole month of hard campaigning had gone by. The troops of Rhearden were hard pressed to drive back the well armed and strongly reinforced Enswerians. Kloste, though not formally declaring war, was still often present in limited numbers. Their presence had driven the king to draw most of his divisions into the conflict with Enswere or into positions along the western border watching for a full invasion from Kloste.

  Gerid's company had indeed continued to fight well under his leadership. Soon the strange events of Paxthos were dismissed, if not completely forgotten by them all. It was business as usual for these soldiers because they knew that worrying about anything but survival would spell almost certain disaster. Kolonus noticed their performance and soon Gerid found himself in constant contact with the commander. The two were often found talking and drinking glasses of Kolonus' favorite brandy.

  It was no real surprise that, when the lieutenant of the third company fell in a particularly bloody battle and the remaining men from that unit were divided between the other three lieutenants of Kolonus' regiment, Gerid assumed the lion's share and found himself commanding well over a hundred men. His prowess in battle was already becoming legendary and the reward wasn't questioned by either of the other lieutenants despite his youth. They respected him very highly, a respect that nearly rivaled that of Kolonus himself.

  His reputation had grown greatly over the past several battles. The Enswerians had sent a great portion of their armies into the field to try and hold what they had stolen and that had given Gerid and his men many opportunities to prove their metal. The other mercenary groups and those of the king's legions had already begun to speak of him in awe. Gerid would have smiled, if he had not known that the enemy had also noted him quite closely. In fact, the men of Enswere all attempted to try and avoid the wrath of the man they now called the `White-haired Demon'. Survivors of the battles with his command were spreading word of the man that could easily slay thirty or forty men in battle. The word was that what he missed, the men of his command acting as his outstretched arms surely would not. No force of arms, no matter the number, was said to slow their march.

  Kolonus began to worry over his protégé’s suddenly legendary fame. He warned Gerid that soon there would be warriors bent on slaying him for their chance at fame and he may even need to worry about sleeping near the battlefields for fear of assassins in the night. Gerid would only look at his friend and laugh at his worries. The youth would not wish for any less, since such a thing fit in well for his future plans. Gerid would need all the fame he could draw upon and even more money to back his lust for revenge against Merrick. The young man often laughed to himself that, as long as he didn't actually wind up dead, everything would go well.

  Nearly a second month of fighting passed as summer moved into full swing. The heat of the season lay heavy over the softly, rolling land of southern Rhearden before the army was finally in sight of the great fortress city of Brahe. By this time, the men were no longer just fighting themselves on the field. The sun beat down unmercifully upon metal armor plates. Many soldiers were dropping in mid swing to heat exhaustion rather than the enemy's blades or arrows. Some of those men were lucky enough to reawaken though it was more likely that an enemy would ensure that they did not.

  Gerid had begun wearing less armor into the battles on hotter days just to prevent
such a fate from happening to him. He even went so far as to bring at least one canteen along to sip from when a moment of breathing room could afford it. Most of the men in his command began to follow his lead, though the lieutenant never ordered such a thing. They found the pluses of being cooler and also quicker without the extra leather and plate worth the risk of being less protected. The company thus unencumbered continued with its success in the field and soon many of the other mercenary forces were copying their decision as well.

  It was on one such steamy day that Kolonus called him to appear in his tent.

  "Sir," Gerid saluted and entered the framework upon which the canvas of the tent had been pushed atop to try and compensate for the heat.

  Kolonus half waved a salute with a fan still in his right hand while the other pulled his smoking cigar out to exhale a dark cloud. "Either it's too damn hot or I am too old for this garbage," the older man stated wryly.

  "It is a hot one, sir."

  "I will definitely be glad when Carter decides that his son is ready to assume command for me. This old soldier is ready to settle down to a life of leisure. Or perhaps I should farm instead?"

  "You'll get bored in less than a year, commander. You and I both know that running this army is your life."

  "No, no, my wife has seen too little of her husband throughout the years. Winter is much too short a time to spend together, but enough of an old man's complaints. I did call you here for a reason after all. The king has finally decided to commit a third division to the taking of Brahe. They should arrive in only a few more days if all goes well. By that time, the other two divisions and our mercenaries will already have laid siege to the city. The king is hoping that our combined might can take back the city in a matter of a week or so."

  "We're guessing, that is the other generals and I are guessing, that the Enswerians have had enough time to supply their garrisons in Brahe with at least enough food stores to last possibly even through the fall. Most of the population is still within the walls so we might still have the possibility of a rebellion. That would help us greatly, of course, but at this point we have decided to assume that the entire population is most likely against us."

  "Then how do we breach those walls and take them in only a week or so, sir?"

  The older man smiled slightly, "There is a plan that we are now ready to implement, but it's quite risky. The main risk is to you and your men, especially this time. I wish that I didn't have to order you to do this, but I was left little choice in the matter. The chore was assigned to my command and I need to pick the most able men and leader to do this job."

  "Don't worry, sir. I'll survive whatever mission you assign me and find a way for my men to as well. I've got too many things to accomplish in the future and dying just doesn't fit into my plans."

  The commander tried to smile at his comment but something deep inside couldn't laugh anymore. The worries seemed to be pushed away quickly and Gerid ignored the discomfort as Kolonus continued, "I hope that you're right, but I know that you'll need all your luck and skill to perform this one. Our plan hinges upon something taken from old plans of the city and fortress. An escape tunnel seems to have been created when Brahe was built over a hundred years and more ago. The idea the generals came up with requires you and your company to enter the city through this tunnel and to then move through the city to open as many of the four gates as possible. The legions of Rhearden will launch a full assault at that time.

  "Do you still think that you and your men can do this, Gerid?"

  He nodded slowly as the full impact of what this mission truly meant hit him. Many would consider such an action a suicide mission. A little over a hundred men being sent into a fortress of thousands was just a little daunting. "You wouldn't have chosen me if you believed otherwise, commander. We'll have to move extremely fast once we're inside, of course, and we'll need to do more than just reach the gates. Once opened, we'll need enough strength to hold them until the legions have entered in full force to help." He looked back up from his thinking to look at Kolonus. "You'll need to provide me with maps of the city. I'll take as many as you can spare. I want all my men to know the layout so that everyone has a chance of escaping should they get separated from their sergeants and allies. When was this planned to happen, commander?"

  "When the third division from Camerton arrives here three days hence. We'll look like we are merely going to wait for their arrival before launching an attack, but a messenger has already been sent to that general to prepare for battle when they reach us. You have only two days of preparation, since the gates will need to be opened by the time they arrive outside the city. Hopefully our forces starting their attack outside will draw enough attention from you and your men to give you the time that you need."

  Nodding again, Gerid replied, "Then if you have those maps, I should begin briefing my men

  immediately." Turning down a glass of brandy, the lieutenant returned to his men with an arm full of maps to begin discussing the new operation.

  The two moons high above lit the woods dimly, since Epsilon was but a mere crescent of its usual self and Turas merely halved. Still Gerid could make out the dark forms of several of his men moving nearest him in their dirt covered armor. They had all made sure to conceal any metal pieces of plate or rings to prevent any glints catching any of the stray moonlight. Touching his hand to the gnarled bark of a cymion tree, one of the more abundant plants in southern Rhearden and Enswere, Gerid paused and noted just how quiet the forest had become. He hoped that the forest's unusual silence wouldn't betray the presence of his men to the guards at the small mound which hid the beginnings of the route that they would soon take inside Brahe. He heard no sound from his men either. As they crept forward, they waited for Sergeant Bakur's men to take the guards by surprise.

  He found the mound in a glimmering patch of light where the moons had managed to illuminate the small clearing that it sat within near the north side. Just as Gerid caught sight of it, he heard the first clank as one of his men delivered a concussive blow to the helmet of a guardsman which was swiftly followed by several more from his comrades. In seconds, the dozen guardsmen were dispatched methodically and quietly. The lieutenant raised his hand at the completion to lead the rest of the company forward.

  A couple of his men threw open a pair of stout, wooden doors that had been well camouflaged to look like any other part of the turf on the mound. Leading the others in a rush down the rough steps hidden within, they fell upon a half dozen stunned guards who had been playing cards or just dozing on a bench.

  Gerid cringed with every clang fearing that the soldiers of Enswere would be upon them well before they could find the end of the tunnel. It took them nearly an hour to navigate the dark and winding passage to find the internal terminus located by finally pushing through the stone block floor of a warehouse near the inner fortress. They were lucky enough to find no other soldiers awaiting them at the exit, so Gerid began dispatching the first unit to find the southern gate tower.

  As he watched the soldiers moving off behind Sergeant Ulius, he checked the sky. It was still dark, except for the slightest lightening in the east where the battles would begin in a little more than an hour. It was then that the legions of Rhearden would begin their attacks believing that he and his men would succeed. Gerid knew, as the next platoon moved out to the north gate behind Palus, they were against the clock now. The soldiers needed to both break into the guard gate towers and then hold them long enough for the men of Rhearden to get inside the walls.

  Sergeant Rastei and then Second Lieutenant Bakur, who had become invaluable to Gerid over the past months of war, led their separate platoons to the final two gates. He turned and nodded to the fifteen soldiers lined up behind him awaiting his command. They knew, as well as he, the dangerous game that they were about to play in this mission. Each man carried a pack of prepared torches and a tinder box. They were to be the diversion that would have to buy the others the time needed to fulfil
l their goals.

  Leading the men into the heart of the city, he began looking for the proper targets. Though he hated endangering defenseless animals, stables were their ideal targets this night, since the animals were much too valuable to lose and would force the population to use their numbers to lead the horses out of the fires. Deciding that they had moved far enough into the heart of Brahe, Gerid pointed his men towards the first of their targets. A dual set of flames sparked from the torches of the men nearest him. The soldiers then ran quickly within the building and lit large masses of hay to the point where the building would be on the verge of being impossible to save. They discarded their torches as they left the doorway and Gerid led his command on a mad dash onto a different street and made for the next victim of their arson.

  As they ran, the first cries of alarm were sounded behind them in the distance.

  Chapter 18-Battle of Two Kingdoms

  The first few battles against Cadmene’s forces had gone extremely well for Lord Merrick's invading armies. The knights of Cadmene, that were once the most feared fighting force of the North Continent, found themselves forced to flee shamefully as their mounts smelled the strangeness of the gargoyles and refused all thoughts of battle. Knights cursed pulling unmercifully on their reins only to find their animals taking the bits in their teeth to ignore their masters. With the first battles won easily, Merrick had returned to his castle to celebrate the fortuitous turn of events and laughingly told his vizier of the moments as he had witnessed them. Having nearly a thousand horsemen, the knights had charged fearlessly across a valley towards the awaiting Marshallans and their allies. The two forces were only a couple of hundred feet from each other galloping hard, when the first of the animals scented the supernatural monsters. Smelling of magic and the stench of another world, the gargoyles had started determinedly forward with their great shields lowered to intercept the knights' lances. Then the lead horses had suddenly spooked and several knights were thrown by their mounts as the animals sank their hooves in deep to stop in mid-step.

 

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