Betrayal at Falador (runescape)

by T. S. Church

  “Can you smell that?” Castimir asked, turning his head. “It is smoke.”

  Theodore turned his mare quickly off to the right, climbing a small hillock where a parting in the trees gave him a good view to the north. As he mounted the summit he gave a startled cry that brought his friends to his side

  For to the north a column of black smoke rose into the sky.

  Taverley was burning.

  From as far south as Falador, the citizens on the walls could see the smoke rising from the direction of Taverley. They knew that war was inevitable. Men shared dark looks with one another, comforting their wives, who in turn held their children.

  Some of the citizens had already left with their families, but now Sir Amik had sealed the city, and those who were left were trapped. From his chamber the leader of the knights looked toward the dark column with a peculiar sense of relief. His course was now clear-war had been declared on the citizens of Asgarnia and he had a duty to act.

  He turned from the window.

  “Our decision is made for us” he said firmly. “Are the knights gathered?”

  “The army slipped out before first light” Sir Tiffy replied. “Over a hundred of the city guardsmen went with them. Our total numbers are eight hundred strong. A small reserve of old men and young peons are now all that is left of our fighting strength here in Falador.”

  “Then I shall join the army in the swamp this evening,” Sir Amik said. “At first light tomorrow, under the cover of the mists, we shall attack from the west, taking them by surprise. No one except us knows the paths through the swamp. Sulla must believe that it will guard his flank.” He thought for a moment. “Perhaps that is why he has left his weakest troops there-the goblins-for his cannons point to the south and the east.”

  “You are certain the Kinshra do not know of the hidden pathways?” Bhuler asked, his expression troubled.

  “I am certain. A swift attack will restore the confidence of the citizens and take advantage of the Kinshra position. If we delay even a day, then they will have fortified their encampment, making any subsequent attack harder. Even now the goblins are digging a trench to the south of their position.”

  The three men looked to Taverley once more, their faces grim.

  “At least the waiting is over,” Sir Amik remarked quietly.

  Campfires burned on the plain. The sounds of the goblins working under the direction of the Kinshra officers could still be heard, for Sulla was aware that his camp was vulnerable and he was driving his men hard to ensure that their defences were erected as soon as possible. Already a long trench ran the entire southern length of his camp, several yards deep and as many yards wide. Its northern bank was coated in sharp stakes that had been hammered into the firm clay ground.

  Behind them stood his cannon, ready to turn the field south of the trench into a killing ground, should anyone be foolish enough to launch an assault. Tomorrow his men would start work on another trench, to the east of the camp.

  Accompanied by Jerrod, who had become his constant companion, Sulla rode three miles south in the darkness, toward the small group of men who kept a watch on Falador, looking for a single light in the high window. Dropping to the ground silently, he crept up behind their leader.

  “Well, Gaius?” he said. “Has our mysterious benefactor had anything to say?”

  The young officer glanced at his commander with a sly smile.

  “He has said something very interesting, my lord,” he answered in a low voice. “Something you will be extremely glad to know.”

  For a long moment Sulla said nothing. He listened to Gaius’s report, thinking hard. When the officer had finished, he smiled, pointing to the west and to the swampland.

  “We shall redeploy the men tonight. They shall be armed and ready before first light, waiting in suitable positions.”

  “Are you sure that you can trust this source, Sulla?” Jerrod asked doubtfully. “Could it not be a ruse to lure you into a trap?”

  “If it is, it is not a very good one, my friend. If they come from the east we will see them in plenty of time to redeploy. From the south they would be forced to brave the trench and our guns, and they cannot come from the north, for our scouts are watching the roads. If they can indeed negotiate the swamps then the west makes perfect sense.”

  He mounted again, flicked his reins, and turned his horse back toward his encampment. He had long hours of work to do before the dawn.

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  It was dark when the companions reached the outskirts of Taverley. The town was eerily silent and as they moved through the streets, they passed several corpses, their outlines just visable in the shadows.

  “There are fewer bodies than I expected” Theodore observed.

  “Is it safe for us to proceed?” Castimir asked.

  “I can’t see anyone,” Doric said. “But I can feel it-we are being watched.”

  “I can feel it too,” Kara agreed, drawing her sword.

  A small blackbird flew down into their midst, chirping a few inches in front of Castimir’s face. It flew back to a nearby branch, chirped again, and nodded its head.

  “Bold little chap, isn’t he?” Castimir said, grinning.

  The bird once again ducked off its branch and landed on the wizard’s shoulder, chirping more urgently. It flew back to the east, landed, and again nodded its head.

  “I have never seen a bird behave with such intelligence,” Doric said.

  Suddenly Castimir stopped grinning.

  “Kaqemeex the druid! He could talk to the birds. Remember, Theo?”

  Theodore nodded, realising what the bird had been trying to tell them.

  “We must follow him. He will be our guide, for he and his friends see everything that occurs.” The squire took his mare by the reins and led her quietly forward, travelling to the east. His friends followed.

  Within an hour, with no sign of either goblin or druid, they came upon two lines of great oak trees whose boughs formed a natural arch. At its centre a bubbling spring cascaded from some ancient rocks that rose from the gentle turf as a cathedral might have an altar. In the grove were many druids. At their head was a man in a green cloak, his fraught countenance etched with a smile.

  “So you have come,” Kaqemeex said, smiling at Gar’rth especially, and the youth bowed his head in respect. “Many of us are here. The goblin attack was known to us beforehand and a few dozen of our older members volunteered to stay behind to satisfy the attackers’ need for violence.”

  Theodore frowned in disbelief.

  “They volunteered to wait for the goblins, knowing they would be killed?” Such bravery was rare, even amongst the knights.

  “Yes. The goblins would have continued to hunt us if there had been no one there. Now their anger is sated and they have left Taverley, for a Kinshra messenger demanded that they head south to rejoin the army.” The old man’s eyes focused on Kara. Suddenly he looked more fraught than ever.

  “Then the way to Ice Mountain is clear?” Theodore asked, hoping that another day’s journey northeast would see them safely within range of the dwarf mines.

  “Not quite,” Kaqemeex said. “Supplies are being moved to the south. It will not be easy crossing the road to get to the mountain. Without my help, you are doomed to failure. Therefore I offer you my aid, and the aid of my many friends.” The druid pointed to the nearest oak, where a dozen birds perched on the heavy branches.

  “Why help us, druid?” Doric said, curious. “I thought you were followers of neutrality, worshippers of Guthix.”

  “We are neutral, but neutrality requires balance, and the balance has been upset.” Again his eyes focused on Kara. She blushed and avoided his gaze. “The gods are playing their little games again, and it is we mortals who suffer the consequences. Therefore, we must take the side of Saradomin to ensure that the balance is restored.”

  No one spoke as Kaqemeex bowed to listen to the chattering of a small thrush. When he straightened again, ther
e was a look of urgency on his face.

  “We must leave now if we are to cross the road before daybreak. We haven’t much time.”

  FIFTY-NINE

  The ground rumbled beneath them as they charged out of the mists in the west, blue banners flying, the dawn’s eastern sun catching their polished armour. Eight hundred horsemen rode in three waves, with Sir Amik at the head of the first.

  Following him in the second wave were three hundred knights, including Master Troughton, the former master-at-arms.

  Behind those, in the final wave, were the city guards, the lightest of Falador’s cavalry.

  A packed column of goblin archers stood directly before them, a thousand strong, caught totally by surprise. They shouted angrily amongst themselves, aware that their infantry battalions to the north and south were too far away to defend them, while to the east a steep ditch they themselves had dug cut off any escape.

  The archers had nowhere to run. They were trapped.

  They only had time to loose four volleys of hastily fired arrows, without any organisation. Of those, very few reached the oncoming cavalry, and those that did were not powerful enough to pierce the heavy armour of Sir Amik’s foremost line.

  When the bright line of knights clad in heavy white armour ploughed into the panicking goblins, there was nothing that could prevent the onslaught. Sir Amik hacked to his right and his left, cutting through the resistance as his sword bit deep into green mottled flesh. He drove his horse onward, trampling those who were caught beneath the heavy hooves of his trained steed.

  Panic overtook the goblins as each individual jostled his way over his comrades in an effort to escape. Their short daggers were of no consequence to the armoured enemy. They fled east into the steep ditch, or to the north and the south in a desperate bid to reach the infantry.

  But to the north the goblin battalion lost its nerve. Upon witnessing the savagery of the knights, the nearest ranks turned and pushed back against those that stood behind. Amongst them were the five hundred goblins who had sacked Taverley, and that effort had totally exhausted them. They did not have the strength to fight such a battle.

  Cutting down the last goblin archer who stood between him and the ditch, Sir Amik looked to the south, sensing victory in his heart. Sure enough, his second wave of cavalry had reached the southern goblin infantry, spreading chaos. He looked back to the north where the fleeing enemy was pursued by the city guards of Falador.

  The goblins had fallen as easily as he had expected.

  But where were the Kinshra?

  With a roar, Sir Amik stood up in his saddle, beckoning his men south to deal the final blow against the goblin horde.

  “The goblins have been defeated quicker than I could have imagined,” Sulla noted bitterly. “And the city guard are loose on the field.” He sat on his horse behind the ditch, watching the rout. The three cavalry lines of his enemy had spread themselves out to deal with the three goblin battalions. To the north a hundred guardsmen of Falador were driving over a thousand goblins before them. He hadn’t expected them to split up.

  Still, it is the knights who are the real enemy. The city guardwill make the mistake of all ill-trained cavalry: they will pursue an enemy from the field and abandon the true battle.

  “Send the first signal!” he ordered, watching the second line of Sir Amik’s cavalry cut their way deep into the southern goblin infantry.

  A second voice repeated the command and a burning fuse was lowered. The cannon crashed backward, sending a roar across the field. Sulla turned to the northwest, toward the outlying woods less than half a mile behind Sir Amik’s cavalry.

  Out of the forest shadows they came-the Kinshra cavalry. Four hundred strong, they were armed with lances that would give them a greater reach than the swords of their enemies. He watched as the black-armoured warriors rode forward, gaining speed as they closed the gap.

  But still his plan wasn’t complete.

  “Send the second signal!” he shouted.

  Again a voice repeated his words, and a second and a third and a fourth cannon roared in quick succession, the sounds echoing off the white walls of Falador.

  Sulla looked north to an area of ground just beyond his encampment. There he had positioned half of his infantry, each man concealing himself by lying down. At once the men rose up and ran to the west. Their route would move them into a position just north of where the goblin infantry had stood, and once there, they would form a line.

  To the south the other half of Sulla’s infantry cut across a small bridge of land that had been left between the two defensive ditches. They raced to form a line south of the goblin infantry which currently occupied Sir Amik’s first and second waves.

  Within minutes Kinshra were assembled to the north and the south. With terrifying precision, they moved to close the gap between them.

  Sir Amik and his army were trapped.

  The Kinshra horses went from a trot to a gallop, careening into the knights’ unprotected rear. The long steel lance tips pierced the armour of their enemies, causing the rear ranks to crush in upon those in front.

  Gaius shouted, throwing his bloodied lance to the ground and drawing his sword. He understood Sulla’s plan-all he had to do was keep the knights from escaping so that the two lines of pikemen could get close enough to finish the work.

  A man screamed below him. Gaius looked down to see a Knight of Falador stagger against the flank of his horse, a lance point protruding through his chest. Even in death the knight raised his sword. But Gaius was quicker, and with a savage hack the edge of his blade cut deeply into the man’s exposed face. As the knight dropped his sword, Gaius struck him again.

  Now the Kinshra cavalry and the knights fought at close quarters, exchanging sword blows, while goblins ducked and assailed the knights wherever they could.

  Sir Amik leant forward to decapitate a foe, and his outstretched hand was seized. Another goblin leapt onto his horse behind him, a curved dagger glancing off the knight’s visor in a desperate stab at his throat. Sir Amik heaved his sword arm back and then unexpectedly lunged forward, his blade stabbing goblin flesh. The grip on his arm slackened.

  The goblin behind him cut the leather saddle, his blade biting into the horse’s flesh beneath. As the horse reared up the saddle loosened, and both goblin and knight fell to the ground.

  “Sir Amik is down!” Sir Vyvin cried. At once, the knights nearby hacked their way to their leader and surrounded him in a protective circle.

  “We are surrounded-we are trapped!” Master Troughton called. His old body bore the signs of several wounds. “The Kinshra cavalry have closed in behind us and there are hundreds of pikemen sandwiching us in.”

  The words cut through Sir Amik’s daze and one thought above all pounded in his mind.

  The Kinshra were prepared for this attack. We have been betrayed!

  He could see the full extent of Sulla’s grim tactics, how the goblins had been left deliberately exposed in order to draw out the knights while the pikemen took up their positions.

  And then the pike bearers began their butchery. Each line of Sulla’s pikemen was five deep, and each man was armed with a ten-foot pike. It seemed as if two walls were being pushed closer together, each lined with deadly spikes. And the knights were trapped in the middle.

  Sir Amik knew it was unlikely that any of them would emerge alive from Sulla’s jaws of death.

  Captain Ingrew had never ridden into battle before, but he found the experience exhilarating. The goblin infantry had broken and fled before the city guards had even reached them, and now that they were running, unarmed and scattered, they were easy prey. He had already slain fourteen of them using the same tactic, riding swiftly past them as he delivered a sweeping cut.

  If the knights were doing as well as he, the captain thought, then the goblin presence was as good as removed from the enemy’s battle line.

  Suddenly a call drew his attention, and he turned to see his fellow guardsmen muste
ring a hundred yards to the south. He cantered forward quickly, and as soon as he was within range he noted the horror-stricken expressions on the faces of his comrades.

  “We have to go back” Colonel Payne insisted. “If we do not, the knights will all be killed! There should be enough of us to break through to Sir Amik’s standard. Then we can withdraw from the field.”

  Captain Ingrew glanced again to the south. As far as he had been aware they had been winning. But one look was all it took to banish that illusion.

  “We’re running away?” a young officer cried in disbelief.

  “We are extracting Sir Amik from that butchery, and whoever else may still be alive. We will withdraw back to Falador through the swamp.”

  With that, the colonel goaded his horse southward, and his men followed his example.

  Hundreds of knights fell to Sulla’s pikes. Even the goblin infantry succumbed. Knights and goblins had given up fighting one another in an effort to escape the deadly trap.

  Sulla looked on approvingly. The knights could do nothing.

  “Send in the berserkers!” he ordered. “Let us have some sport with our enemy.”

  Behind the lines of pikes, several ladders had been erected, and climbing them were savage humans. The berserkers were a chaos-worshipping people who lived in The Wilderness, practising cannibalism on any traveller who strayed into their clutches. They filed their teeth and their nails to a deadly sharpness and rarely used any weapons, for their savagery was weapon enough.

  Sir Amik raised his banner at the centre of the trap, calling his men to gather around him in a last effort to break out. Then the first berserker leapt into their midst over the tops of the pikes. Others followed, leaping directly onto the horses of their enemies and dragging both man and beast down into the crimson mud.

  Sir Amik turned to face one of the cannibals and was shocked to see that it was a woman. He saw a green flash leap at him from his right, and instinctively he swung his sword up, parrying the goblin’s thrust. But he could not protect himself from the frenzied woman who stepped in toward him with her teeth bared.