Shadow Lands Trilogy

by Simon Lister

  Balor hauled his axe free from his belt and gripped it tightly trying to make sense of what was happening around him. He felt removed from the unfolding events and he was mildly curious about what would happen next but not overly anxious about it as it did not seem to really involve him. Arthur was already yelling out orders and Balor struggled to make out what he was saying. Then he suddenly seemed to jolt back to reality as he heard Arthur shouting out for raised shields. He automatically unslung his shield and raised it over his head just as the third volley rained directly down on the compound. Either Adren archers further back had unleashed the volley or the initial archers had elevated their aim to send their arrows arcing up to come crashing straight down onto the defenders. Balor swore as his shield was slammed back onto his head with two arrows buried into the thick hide and wood. He cursed to himself and tried to listen as Arthur’s voice was raised above the chaos again.

  He was shouting to Elwyn and those in the tower trying to find out if the Adren were attempting to charge the wall yet. Balor risked a quick glance over the edge of the wall and saw hundreds of figures charging out from the fog about fifty yards away. Most of them were carrying short scaling ladders.

  ‘They’re coming!’ he yelled down to Arthur and the warriors started to scramble up the inset wooden rungs on the wall. Everyone expected the deadly hail of arrows to cease once the Adren reached the wall but if anything it intensified. The unseen Adren archers were no longer firing in organised unison but independently and the arrows were now scything through the air constantly.

  The Adren were almost at the wall. Arthur realised that if the Adren archers kept up their deadly fire then there was no way that he could defend the ramparts without exposing his warriors to their arrows. It was a measure of the enemy that they were prepared to kill their own soldiers in greater quantities than the Britons just so long as the Britons died. Arthur jumped back down from the wall.

  ‘Back! Get Back! Longbows! To me!’ Arthur’s voice roared above the noise of the charging Adren and the warriors abandoned the defences and ran to form a line twenty yards from the wall where Arthur stood.

  Balor joined the line and rammed his axe back into his belt then fumbled to release his longbow from where it was slung on his back. Someone released it for him and he turned to see Morgund already fitting an arrow to his own bow.

  ‘I’d sling your shield on your back if I were you – you’ll be needing it soon.’

  Balor did as Morgund suggested and cursed him for his calmness.

  ‘Fire!’ Arthur roared.

  Balor realised that he was slower than everyone else as the longbows snapped all along the line and the first of the Adren to reach the top of the wall were flung backwards. It suddenly became clear to him why Arthur had ordered them off the wall. The attacking Adren were now caught in a crossfire between Arthur’s longbows and their own archers who could not see that they were only killing their own soldiers.

  As the slaughter continued Balor realised that he had left his arrow bag back at the wall and the quiver hanging from his belt was nearly empty. Morgund seemed to have seen this despite not taking his eyes from the targets ahead of him and he kicked his own half-empty bag towards Balor who gratefully bent down and swooped up enough to refill his quiver. He was a strong man and fit for his forty-five years but his arms and back were already aching and they had only been in battle for a few minutes. As he sent another arrow flying into the growing massacre at the wall he wondered, belatedly, if you really needed to be a warrior almost from childhood instead of becoming one later in life as he had.

  Arthur was walking behind the line steadying those that needed it and checking on the overall supply of arrows. The Adren were beginning to make some headway despite the deadly crossfire and more were now making it over the wall to the Briton side of the Causeway. Arthur stopped behind Morveren who was using a shorter bow. It took enormous strength and stamina to keep firing the six-foot longbows but at this range the shorter bow was just as effective and she was firing at the same rate as the others around her.

  ‘Did Ceinwen get hit?’ Arthur asked her as he sent an arrow into an Adren who was clambering down the side of the wall.

  Morveren carried on firing and tried to steady her breathing enough to reply. ‘The horse reared up. Got hit in the first hail. Its hoof caught her flush on the chin. Out cold.’

  Arthur glanced behind him to where Ceinwen had been dragged. She was still dead to the world.

  ‘Arthur!’

  Arthur looked down the line to see Elwyn leaning back and shouting to him again. Arthur returned his attention to the wall and saw that more and more of the Adren were gaining the top.

  ‘Cover me!’ Arthur shouted and made his way back to Balor.

  ‘And make sure you don’t hit me,’ he said quietly to Balor as he edged past him and then sprinted for the wall.

  The rate of fire behind him increased as the warriors forced their tiring muscles to work harder. As he reached the base of the wall two Adren jumped to the ground beside him and he kicked out at one and cut his sword at the other who fell back clutching his bloody face. He swept his sword at the first and nearly decapitated him. He picked up a burning branch from the fire and raced to one of the oil kegs set against the wall. Arrows were flying in both directions above his head and Adren were falling all around him as he set the first keg alight and kicked it over against the wall. He sprinted to the next one, as the first roared into flames, and put the burning branch to that one as well. He saw a full arrow bag lying on the ground and picked it up but he abandoned any attempt to reach the third keg and dashed back half-crouching to his own line. He dropped the bag at Balor’s feet and turned to see the flames taking hold along the wall.

  ‘Every second person back to the next wall!’ he shouted out and half the line picked up their discarded weapons and spare arrows and sprinted back into the fog. The others inched closer together and continued firing at the Adren who were struggling over the top of the burning wall. One had made it to the Briton side and he stood facing the line of bowmen and then without hesitating or checking to see if he had any support he charged the twenty warriors. Someone to Arthur’s left swore in disbelief. Balor stepped forward and ended the lone Adren’s charge with a bloody downward swing of his axe and then he kicked the dead body swearing at it. Every one of the warriors in the line was thinking the same thing; would they have charged twenty archers alone?

  ‘Back to the next wall!’ Arthur called out and the remaining warriors gathered their weapons and ran back down the Causeway. Morgund stayed behind with Arthur and they stared at the burning wall which had temporarily stalled the Adren attack.

  ‘Take these,’ Arthur said and handed him his longbow and arrows. Their eyes met and held for a second.

  ‘Less than half an hour and the first wall’s fallen already,’ Morgund said.

  ‘Half an hour and already a few hundred Adren are dead.’

  ‘It’s going to be difficult to convince them when they’re beaten,’ Morgund said shrugging and turned away without waiting for a reply. Arthur stooped down and lifted the still lifeless Ceinwen and unceremoniously slung her over his shoulder. Leaning against her weight he started off after Morgund and left the first line of defence burning behind him.

  The second wall was little more than a barricade designed to offer some cover from the Adren archers and act as a firing position during a retreat back from the initial defences. Arthur was the last to arrive there and he called out to his warriors that there were only Adren behind him.

  He propped Ceinwen up in a sitting position with her back against the barricade. She was beginning to regain consciousness and an ugly looking bruise was already blooming across the lower part of her bloody face. She shook her head drunkenly and spat out a mouthful of blood and a couple of teeth. Arthur took her face in both hands and tilted her head up to look into her eyes. She was mumbling incoherently through her cracked mouth and her eyes were glazed and unfocu
sed. He told her to be quiet and called across to Elwyn for a warrior to carry her back to safety. Elwyn pointed to Saewulf, who stood out as a big man even among the other warriors, and he strolled across to see what was required of him.

  Arthur told him to take Ceinwen back to the next main line of defence and warn them that the Adren attack was underway. A minute later Saewulf was disappearing into the fog carrying Ceinwen in his arms like a small child.

  Arthur took stock of their position. They had lost five warriors in the defence of the first line, four of which had died in the initial onslaught of Adren arrows. He passed among his warriors gauging how they had fared after the first encounter with the enemy on the Causeway and seeing how depleted their arrow stores were.

  Balor was bent over with his hands on his knees as he tried to regain his breath. He looked up and saw Morgund walking across to him.

  ‘It’s foggy enough old man without you blowing out great clouds.’

  ‘What are you grinning about?’ Balor replied, still short of breath.

  ‘Just the pleasure of thrashing the bastards. We’ve waited far too long not to enjoy it now it’s here. You’re grinning too.’

  Balor realised he was. Even though he was still breathing hard from the sprint back from the first wall he no longer felt any tiredness in his arms or any pain in the small of his back. In fact, he realised with his grin broadening, that he had never felt more alive in his life.

  ‘Does it always feel this good to be in a proper battle?’

  Morgund laughed and replied, ‘It does if you’re still alive, and if you’re dead then you don’t feel anything. Beats breaking your back behind a plough all day.’

  ‘We must have killed scores back there.’

  ‘Hundreds.’

  They both looked to Arthur who had just corrected Balor as he passed them.

  ‘Hundreds?’ Balor asked.

  ‘Yes and there’s plenty more waiting to join them,’ Arthur replied as he took stock of their remaining arrows.

  ‘It would be more if it wasn’t for this fog. We can’t see them coming until they’re almost on us,’ Morgund said, needlessly gesturing at the impenetrable mist that limited visibility to a circular thirty yards.

  ‘That works both ways, as the Adren are about to find out. Get yourselves ready, we’re going to take back the first wall,’ Arthur said and left them staring at each other as he called the others together to organise the counter-attack.

  ‘You and your bloody ‘can’t see them coming’!’ Balor said mimicking Morgund’s deep voice.

  ‘Thought you were enjoying the battle?’

  ‘That was the defending bit, I’ve seen what happens to the attackers!’

  ‘Don’t worry, you’ll be in and out before they know it. Just pretend it’s one of your women.’ Morgund jumped back a step as Balor swung at him and before Balor could think of an appropriate reply Arthur was calling for the forty-odd warriors to gather around him.

  ‘Who are the fastest ten bowmen here?’ The warriors looked around at each other and quickly agreed who were the quickest. ‘Good. I want you to hang back twenty yards when the rest of us attack. We’ll advance quickly and quietly and when we charge them I want you to do it silently and to keep silent. No war cries. I want to smash into them hard and without warning. Is that understood? I want confusion in their ranks and as many dead Adren as quickly as possible. Listen for my call. When you hear it get out and get out quickly. I’ll give the word for the bowmen to start firing and after you loose fifteen arrows each then run for it. Questions? Good. The bowmen can leave behind their other weapons. Speed will be all you need. The rest of you leave your longbows and arrows here.’

  The warriors discarded unnecessary weapons and followed Arthur as he disappeared into the thick mists. Morveren was among the last to set off after Arthur and she cast a glance backwards at the pile of her discarded weapons. She was to be one of the bowmen whose task it was to provide cover for the warriors once Arthur ordered them to disengage. She gripped her bow tightly but she felt naked advancing towards the Adren without her sword and shield. She knew they would be just a hindrance once the retreat was called and she trusted Arthur’s judgement implicitly but she was still uneasy about leaving them so far behind her.

  Most of the warriors were ahead of her, indistinct figures moving silently through the fog with their swords and axes held by their sides and their shields held before them. She re-checked the quiver hanging from her belt again and worried whether the wet mist would foul her bowstring.

  ‘Still full?’

  The sudden and quiet question from her side caused her to start. It was Morgund.

  ‘What are you doing back here? You should be up with Arthur and the others,’ she hissed back at him, embarrassed to have jumped at his unexpected presence.

  ‘Plenty of time to catch up. Just thought I’d drop back and see if you were all right.’

  ‘I’m perfectly fine. Get forward,’ she snapped back at him.

  ‘Just make sure you watch out for me and any Adren creeping up on me - that’ll be your priority,’ he replied grinning at her.

  As he made to catch up with the others she put a hand on his arm. He looked at her but neither said a word and he strode off to regain his place at the front.

  Morveren envied him his nerveless ease and tried to compose herself. She brushed her wet hair from her face and tried to wipe her hand dry on the thigh of her trousers but the thick fog had layered everything with a sheen of dampness. Dew beaded her bow and her wet clothes clung to her limbs uncomfortably. The warriors ahead of her had stopped with Arthur standing some ten yards further on with his back to them. Someone’s weapon clanked dully against wood and Arthur immediately pointed towards the offender without turning around and the noise died instantly.

  Morveren’s heart was thudding rapidly and the roar of blood in her ears initially prevented her from hearing the sounds in the fog ahead. Gradually she could make out the shouts of command and the heavy noise of tree trunks being hauled aside. Somewhere ahead the Adren were dismantling the remnants of the wall they had recently taken.

  Arthur signalled for the warriors to form into their two groups and he led them silently on towards the clamour ahead. Morveren’s nerves stretched tauter as they advanced ever closer to the unseen Adren. Finally Arthur raised his sword high above his head and then, without looking around, he started to sprint towards the enemy. The warriors followed at a dead run, quelling their automatic urge to yell their battle cries.

  Morveren and the other bowmen followed. They would form a line once they got close enough to see the wall. She watched as the warriors ahead of her sprinted onwards, their weapons drawn and held ready as they raced in silence through the last shielding of the fog and she felt a surge of excitement as the adrenaline pumped the fear from her body.

  Suddenly the half-wrecked wall appeared out of the mist and she understood exactly why Arthur had ordered the charge to be silent. The Adren were busy throwing their dead over the steep sides of the Causeway while others were trying to tear down the parts of the wall that still stood. The wall was still burning in places and the thick smoke from the oil hung above the scene in the still air. Some of the Adren looked up at the sudden appearance of the charging warriors and Morveren felt the battle joy course through her as she realised how terrifying Arthur’s attack must be for the totally unprepared Adren.

  The warriors stormed beyond the wall leaving a swathe of slaughtered Adren behind them. Their onward rush meant that for long minutes they were continually attacking Adren who were confused, disoriented and unable to form a line of defence quick enough to check Arthur’s murderous advance.

  Morveren realised that someone was shouting to her left. She looked across and saw the stocky and very familiar figure of Elwyn frantically waving for the line of bowmen to advance. The Anglian warrior had been put in charge of the archers by Arthur and Morveren finally understood that he was yelling for them to press on u
p to the wall. The brutal, hacking progress of Arthur’s warriors had carried them well beyond the wall and the bowmen were now too far behind them. The line sprinted up to the wall and took up firing positions as Arthur’s advance into the Adren ranks began to falter due to the sheer number of the enemy that had been pressed together.

  Morveren could see that Arthur was beginning to lose the advantage as the Adren further back on the Causeway began to realise what was happening and started to organise themselves. She slotted her first arrow into place and readied herself to draw her bow. All along the ruins of the wall the others were doing the same. Just when she thought that Arthur was leaving it too late she heard his voice rise above the din of fighting and almost as one the warriors turned and sprinted back to the wall.

  The first flight of arrows flew into the Adren as the warriors sped past the line of bowmen. Morveren did as she was trained to do and ignored the Adren to her left and right and picked her targets directly ahead of her. The Adren were taken by surprise for a second time as their savage attackers were replaced by hammering close-range volleys of deadly arrows. The foremost Adren were flung back into others who in turn were scythed down immediately in the next merciless hail. Confusion reigned in their ranks once more as the assault ended as suddenly as it had begun.

  Morveren had fired her last arrow and was racing back through the fog on the Causeway with the others all around her and ahead of her. She wanted to scream aloud her relief and joy but she saved her breath and channelled her bursting energy into sprinting even harder. She glanced at the figures running near her hoping to see Morgund or Balor but she saw neither and concentrated instead on covering the distance ahead of her.

  Chapter Ten

  Seren had lost track of how long she had been confined to her cell. The windowless room blocked almost all the sounds from the city outside and without the reference of the lakeside bell tolling the hours she had no way of gauging the passing of time. She had tried to keep track of the number of bland meals that had been passed to her but she had become convinced that the guards were altering the intervals to disorient her further. Sometimes it seemed to her that at least a day must have passed since her last meal then at other times it seemed as if one had directly followed another.