Noticing at least three robed figures in the opposing group, Wesley knew this was not going to be a fight they could win face to face. Quickly gesturing the others back, he felt his heart thumping in his chest, as the sound of a horn reverberated nearby. “They are calling for others,” he mumbled as much to himself as anyone else. “Come on we need to run!” he said, although not sure Carlton was in any condition to do so, at least not for any length of time.
Wesley was about to turn down another street, when he thought better of it. Just as well he had, as he spotted a dozen or so more Belarians turning into it at the far end. “They’re closing in around us,” he said as he listened to the sound of the horns now coming from several directions. As a ranger, Wesley could have probably sneaked around or hidden until the trouble had passed. However, since he was not on his own, and was not going to leave his fellow guild members to fend for themselves, he had only one option left.
“This way!” he said quickly waving the group back the way they had first come. “We will probably have to fight,” he added, shouting over his shoulder as he ran. With Carlton struggling to keep pace, Wesley’s hand was forced. The ranger slipped his bow from his shoulder and placed an arrow on the string in preparation. Mason stood ready to shield, although quite how long he could hold out against numerous enemy sorcerers he did not know.
Wesley fired his first shot as the first Belarian turned blindly into the street ahead. Had the man checked before running into view there was a good chance he would have spotted a guild ranger. As it was, Wesley’s arrow took the man clean in the chest, sending his dying body sprawling to the ground. The next in view however was a sorcerer, who immediately threw up a shield deflecting the next arrow harmlessly aside.
Two other Belarian sorcerers and several soldiers then came into view, and Mason was forced to shield as several energy blasts were sent his direction. Keeping a barrier over himself was hard enough, but having to expand it sufficiently to also cover Carlton and Rania was even more so. Wesley was fine, keeping himself moving and firing, despite his shots being of little consequence.
From somewhere across the street, several sorcerer’s blasts fired out at the Belarians, hitting one of them, and downing one man almost instantly. Having an unknown attacker fire upon them from elsewhere, at least had the effect of drawing the attention of the Belarians away from Mason, who was all but depleted of power.
Wesley made a bold decision, “This way, quick as we can,” he said gesturing for his guild colleagues to head in the general direction of the mystery attacker. Mason was about to explain they could just as well be running into more trouble, but felt himself bordering on exhaustion and unable to speak. “Over here,” came a man’s voice from a dark narrow alley almost obscured from view by a pile of rubbish.
Deciding the stranger was probably the safer bet, Wesley signalled the others towards him. “In here,” the man shouted barging open a door, “Quickly!” he added waving them inside. Once the four guild members were in, the man quickly shoved the door closed., before darting off into the darkness, “Follow me,” he shouted over his shoulder. Wesley could barely make out the man’s face in the poor light, but thought he looked quite young.
The stranger stopped suddenly, before sliding some wooden planks aside revealing another opening. Wesley was about to ask where they were being led, but thought it best to just go with it. If the man had wanted to cause them harm, he was going a strange way about doing it.
They moved into another smaller, much darker room, as the stranger then created a small globe of light. “We need to head for the tunnels, I can show you the way out of the city if you follow me,” The man said as the others all stared his direction.
“Please lead on,” Wesley replied, still breathing heavily.
The stranger remained anonymous to them, as he pulled a tarp that had been strewn across the dusty floor, revealing a wooden trap door. Wesley helped the stranger lift it up, before asking Mason if he could manage a light to lead them down inside, whilst their new friend needed to cover their tracks.
After carefully edging down several stone steps, they stopped briefly to allow the man to catch up. He squeezed past them, glancing at Mason’s magical ball of light, whilst still holding his own. Once more in the lead, the stranger led them down several more steps and down a very narrow tunnel. “I assume you are guild members?” the man asked glancing briefly over his shoulder. Being the one nearest to him, Wesley decided to answer “We are…or were,” he replied, uncertain they could actually still make that claim.
They continued onwards for quite some time, slowly weaving through the narrow tunnel. They kept conversation to an absolute minimum and walked for the most part in complete silence. Only when they eventually emerged from the darkness of the tunnel into a small cave, did they converse again. Wesley turned around to check the others were all okay, and although Mason looked tired he was still coping. Carlton, although struggling a little, explained he was well enough for the too carry on, and Rania just gave a thumbs up indicating she was fine.
For the first time since escaping the Belarians, the stranger who had aided them turned to face them. “My name is Gallien,” he said finally introducing himself. Wesley took the lead and introduced the others first, before doing the same for himself. “Thank you Gallien,” Mason managed to say, clearly still feeling the effects of having to expend much of his energy in shielding the others.
Gallien led them away from the cave entrance and out into a thick forested area. Wesley, as any typical ranger would do, kept his eyes open, scanning left and right as they followed. “We had heard there were miles of tunnels running under the city,” he said causing Gallien to stop.
“Really?”
“Yes, but only recently. The guild was still locating the entrances to most when the attack came.”
Gallien continued walking, thinking of how to ask, or whether he even wanted to. “How did you suddenly learn of them?”
“A prisoner. I can’t remember her name,” Wesley replied.
“It was Mia,” Mason added to the conversation.
Gallien nodded and stayed silent for the remainder of the trip.
They emerged into a large clearing, hiding what Wesley assumed to be some kind of small village. “Wow! I’d heard the guild had learned of this place, but I never expected it to be quite so big,” the ranger said. Gallien just shrugged, his mind clearly on other things; A name he thought was out of his life, and yet he felt he needed to know her fate. For now though, he led the guild members down the well-defined forest path, between the timber built homes and buildings that made up their commune; Fennick would want to see who he had brought in this time.
Chapter 17.
Kian looked out from the walls of Riverdale. The morning dew on the grass pastures across the water still glistened in the early sun, yet this morning there was a chill in the air. Off in to the distance, from between the trees the Belarian soldiers slowly encroached nearer. With his small groups of rangers and sorcerers having attacked and hounded the enemy every inch of their journey, he had succeeded in thinning their ranks.
Although the force approaching was still far greater in number than any force he could muster, he knew it now lacked the majority of its sorcerers. However, a sufficient amount of them had survived the journey, and now his defensive measures would be put to the test. Kian knew the tactic used by the Belarians at Surmont, and actually hoped they tried the same again.
Riverdale was a town far easier to defend than Surmont, being protected as it was by the river meandering around it. With only a narrow strip of land giving access to the large wooden gates, Kian and the commander of the town’s garrison could concentrate the bulk of their forces in one small place. The strip of land had been prepared to receive their unwelcome guests, and although made to appear as if only a few obstacles had been placed in the way, as would have been expected, this stretch of land held many darker surprises.
It had been evidently clea
r from the early exchanges in this war that the Caldronians had greatly underestimated the Belarians. Not only by the number and quality of their sorcerers, but also by some of the ingenious tactics. The strange black exploding powder they had developed, had made Surmont’s walls all but useless, and with these lessons learned, Kian now hoped to reap the benefits.
Hardly surprisingly, the Belarian archers moved forward, spreading out around the riverbank. Kian watched a little nervously, hoping his predictions had been correct. The first burning arrow was launched and as it dipped, fizzling out into the water, he gave a sigh of relief. Safe in the knowledge the enemy archers firing their exploding arrows were out of range, Kian gave the shout for some small retaliation. With the guild rangers firing from an elevated position, and only firing traditional arrows it inevitably meant their arrows could and would travel further.
Having spent some considerable time practicing, he knew a good many of his rangers could make the far bank, and some twenty or so paces further. With the order given, the Caldronians fired their bows, and although he noticed many missed their target, he spotted at least two that had hit. In respect to the damage caused, his attack was miniscule, when considering the numbers lining up to attack the town’s gates. Yet this very small victory had the immediate effect of forcing the Belarian bowmen further back, and all but eliminating them from the fight.
Kian hurried back around the top of the wall to oversee the Belarian sorcerers, or what remained of them, lining up. He watched on as a wagon laden with barrels, he now knew would contain the exploding powder, was brought to the fore. “Bring it on,” he uttered to himself, as he watched the glimmering magical barrier arc over the wagon, the men pushing it, and the team of sorcerers producing the shield.
Learning from previous experiences, Kian knew it was pointless trying to fire upon the shield. However, he had now realised there were indeed other ways of stopping them. He firstly called for a few archers to fire arrows, not because they would actually achieve anything, but to at least give the impression he was trying to stop the advancing enemy. To add realism to his charade, he even had one or two of his sorcerers firing energy blasts, even though he knew them to be out of range by some considerable distance.
As he hoped, the Belarian sorcerers slowly moved nearer. With their magical barrier in place, protecting the explosive cargo, they moved onto the narrow strip of land that led to the town of Riverdale. Being only a couple of hundred paces in length, Kian needed to spring his trap as far from the walls as possible, so not to risk blowing himself up.
The land there had been severely rutted, and within a few paces, the wagon being pushed had stopped. Moreover, the ground had been covered with caltrops and other smaller metal spikes, as well as being soaked with lamp oil. Kian watched for the first sorcerer to lose concentration, and even afforded a smile as one such man stumbled. The magical barrier appeared to fluctuate for a few moments before dissipating completely, as all of the Belarian sorcerers holding it, slumped to the ground.
The theory had proved correct. The shielding technique was quite exceptional if carried out correctly, but as they had learned from the library in Surmont, the practice was not without its problems. The writings that had suggested that when one sorcerer supplying the shield falls, all those attached to him will do likewise.
Not wanting to waste any time, Kian gave a nod to the town’s garrison commander stood beside him. The man waved a hand, and two archers from the garrison using much longer bows than those of the guild rangers, pulled back their strings and released two burning arrows skywards.
Those atop the walls of Riverdale watched on as both shafts soared through the air and landed at the feet of the enemy sorcerers. Within a second, the ground was alight, and the screams of men being burned alive filled the early morning air. A few brave, but foolhardy Belarians ran forward trying to aide their countrymen. However, Kian’s plan had yet one more part to play.
The wagon of explosive powder meant for destroying the town’s gates and walls, ignited. The resulting sound and force knocked Kian off his feet, leaving his ears ringing. Several moments passed, before he managed to gather his senses and get back to his feet. Still feeling somewhat dazed, he looked out across the strip of land to witness a quite brutal sight.
The Belarian sorcerers who had been caught in the fire were not even anywhere to be seen. Furthermore, strewn about, some several hundred yards or more were the dead and dying bodies of hundreds of men and horses. Kian actually felt sorry for those poor creatures, more so than the enemy soldiers that writhed in agony on the ground. Aside from the devastating blast from the Belarians own wagon of powder, much more damage had been caused from flying timber and the hundreds of metal spikes that had been planted in the ground; one of which was actually implanted into the stonework of the wall just to the side of him.
With probably half of the Belarian force accounted for in one foul swift move, those who remained appeared unsure what to do. In amongst the smoke and falling debris, Kian could spot very few remaining sorcerers in the enemy ranks; a handful at most. More importantly was the fact he could not see another wagon of explosive powder, meaning that even if this, still sizable army, wanted to, they would not likely be able to breach the walls.
The Garrison commander gave another a signal and several blasts from a horn sounded out. From well concealed positions, hiding away from danger in trenches, and the trees that stood nearby, rangers and sorcerers of the guild opened fire. This was a big gamble on Kian’s behalf. If the remaining Belarians gathered their senses and regrouped to make a coherent fighting force, those he had positioned on the other side of the river now engaging the enemy were at great risk.
Just in case, he had ordered several boats be readied to row across, should the guild apprentices be forced to retreat, and need to get back to safety. Knowing that most of those now firing arrows and blasts of energy were mostly teenagers, he had been torn as to whether to carry out this part of the plan. The garrison commander, it appeared, had decided to make that decision for him by having the horns sounded.
Kian now watched on, as arrows and blasts of energy hit the enemy from both sides. The Belarians, already confused and dazed as to what had just happened, panicked and started retreating. A few tried to make a defiant stand, but thankfully they were cut down by his sorcerers before they were able to do so successfully.
“Sound the horns again,” he instructed. Although it was clear the garrison commander did not agree with his order, the man nodded and gave the signal for it to happen. Kian did not want his youngsters giving chase to an enemy already defeated, and duly placing them at any more risk than he had already done so.
No sooner had the horns sounded, when he also gave the order for the boats to cross. “Bring them back!” he ordered, still watching for any sign of a Belarian counter attack. “Captain, once my lot have returned have your soldiers scour the area for any injured. Bring back any of ours for treatment, the Belarians, do as you see fit,” he added, knowing that would likely mean death to any enemy soldier that had somehow survived the carnage.
With what was left of the Belarian force hastily heading back south, Kian sent out a couple of his more experienced rangers to scout. These had strict orders not to engage the enemy unless forced to do so, but to keep a watch, and furthermore give a rough figure as to what was left of it.
Riverdale had managed something Surmont had not, and whilst the townsfolk were jubilant in their victory, Kian knew it would only be a matter of time before they were forced to fight again. For now though, he allowed himself and his brave young apprentices a little time to rest and recuperate. Despite the strict rations in place on the town, to ensure their limited food stocks lasted the winter, the mayor had permitted a few little extras to reward those who had dealt the enemy such a decisive blow.
The land leading up to the gates would need to be prepared again, should a second attack be forthcoming, although whether the Belarians would fall for the same en
ticement again, he doubted that would be the case. However, so long as he held the upper hand, and controlled the valuable strip of land that gave access to Riverdale, Kian knew they had every chance of repeating their success.
Chapter 18.
Leo stood out in the yard to what was now officially the Arandor Guild of Sorcerers. The small number of magicians, originally being trained by Lars, had slowly been added to, as the youngsters of Dornby had been tested. Each day, Chad had joined Leo, slowly walking down long lines of prospective candidates, most of whom would never become sorcerers.
The first two day’s selections had seen only three added to the group, and Leo was beginning to think that magic in Arandor was even rarer than in Caldronia. However, as was usually the case, Leo was proved wrong, as the subsequent days had seen many more admissions than even Edwin had expected. So many in fact, that his once elegant home was slowly becoming full.
Today at least would see the last of the city’s youngsters tested, something Leo was quite thankful for. Once this was over, they could now at last start training. Winter months would soon be upon them, and if they were to be ready for the grand plans being thought up by Edwin and Alec, then the sooner they started the better.
The King's Sorcerer (The Caldronian Guild Book 3) Page 12