by Lee LaCroix
“Firstly, I pray you send this message to Lord Vyse. The free peoples of Amatharsus bid him come forth to be judged for his crimes and to repay them for his short and tyrannous reign of our kingdom. He will have a fair hearing in the Amatharsan court, and he will abide by the same laws and face the same punishments that he subjected the people during his puppet leadership,” Berault dictated, pursing his hands.
“Secondly, to all the Blackwoods under his employ. They are free to go without penalty as they are all men of this land like us, forced into unescapable desperation. But know to act as criminals and highwaymen from this day forth will bring the entire army to their doors just as we have gathered today,” Berault continued and indicated to the soldiers standing behind.
“Thirdly, to your precious Vandari. Withdraw your forces from our land and go back to where you came. You have treated with the wrong man if you wish to form an alliance with our people, and if this was your intent, we are open to talks of diplomacy once stable government has resumed in the capital. If your intent truly was the conquering of our people and the sacking of this land’s beauty and natural resource, then you will face an eternal and fruitless struggle in your attempts to take this land. No man or woman, daughter or son, parent or child will ever bow to this form of tyranny. We will be free, or we will be dead! And we have left a long trail of the dead in our wake to show you which we have chosen!” Berault bellowed.
As his face became hard and cold, the Blackwoods officer looked displeased with this exchange of terms and he turned back at once, taking the Blackwoods banner from the ground while his cape twirled around behind him. The Crown Army watched as the banner disappeared between the troops and into the camp. For a time, all was silent. There was no sound but the heavy breathing of the soldiers and the erratic chirping of the crickets and field insects. There was no response but the screaming of wood and the cranking of metal.
The sound of tethers released from their tension with a wicked snap rang out, and the sky was filled once again with the husks of flaming trees. The fiery logs came down without end but landed just shy of the ranks of the Crown Aegis, some of the ammunition rolling into their midst but without injury. The shine of the Vandarian helmets was fixed on the line of the trenches, refusing to come meet their assailants on the field of battle. Berault turned his horse towards his ranks, and his back was turned to the destruction that rained on behind him.
“They fear to meet us here. They know of our strength, and their machines will not be enough to save them now. Just look! Beyond this small stretch of field lay the glory, victory, and vengeance we have all come so far to claim. Although this terrible scene may unfold before us, do not forget to look ahead and above. The most cunning of feet will see you safety to the throats of your enemies. Go now! For the King!” Berault shouted as he pointed his sword forward.
Chapter Twenty-One
Eyrn and Domminal were the first to move forward, and their sprint began with eyes upwards and forwards. A second behind, Behn was moving as fast as he could in the bulky plate armour, and the rest of the soldiers ran beside him. The tide of men and women, voices raised as high as their heads, kept their eyes on the two officers who leapt out of the way of the falling boulders of flame. Domminal and Eyrn ran unheeded across the field towards those sharpened wooden pillars despite the shouts of pain and terror that rang out behind them. They had no time to look back, for they could not lose their focus, or they would lead the entire army to their doom. If they did look, they surely would have seen a disheartening scene as the lives of their comrades were snatched away before the climax of this battle and the ultimate conclusion of the conflict.
When the two reached the sharpened pillars at the edge of the trenches, they ducked under its rounded masses. Packed shoulder to shoulder, a team of Blackwoods archers filled the two watchtowers and rained down upon the trench. The Vandari began to climb out of the trench to meet the two who had ran to meet them first. However, the division between spikes was so small that only one man could fit at a time. By the time Eyrn and Domminal had finished off their first two, Behn led the first wave of the army to their position. Yielding the troops for caution, Behn led the charge with a series of powerful downwards strikes, sending the Vandari diving away from his massive sword, and Eyrn, Domminal, and the rest of the troops followed Behn into the trench.
The long channel could fit a maximum of four soldiers shoulder to shoulder along its width, and it soon became filled to capacity as the Malquians dove into the trench beside their fellow soldiers. To give their incoming allies more shelter from the siege weapons, Behn pushed hard against the Vandari one way, Domminal and Eyrn forced them back the other. Regardless, the warriors of Vandar dove into the engrossed ditch with weapons pointed downwards as they leapt into the fray. The vicious tide of combatants from each side continued to spill into the pit like the waves of a torrential storm breaking upon a seawall. The fighting was crowded, fierce, and chaotic, and the Crown Army battled against the main component of the Vandarian forces in that dirty ditch. However, as they gained cover from the siege machines and the Blackwoods archers, the Crown Army took the upper hand in the assault, and the floor of the trench was soon choked with the corpses of Vandar.
With the battle in the trench obscured from vision, the Vandari continued to dive in. Much to their misfortune, they found themselves surrounded by the innumerable blades of the Crown Army. Behn led some of the troops down the trench to the first of the exits leading north out of it. He had only stuck his head out a little, exposing his helmet and his bulky armour, before an arrow flew by and ricocheted off his plated shoulder.
“Archers!” Behn yelled as he pointed towards the watchtower and the nest of archers who denied access to the exit of the trench with their lethal rain.
Garreth watched from the western shore as the Crown Army advanced up the field and secured the trench line. Seeing how they were now halted by the barrage of Blackwoods defenses, Garreth decided that now was the time to move his unit into action. The ranger kept his troops low along the shore of the bay while they made their way east, looking to keep from arousing suspicion and to maintain their surprise assault. They rose up out of the bay, skirted onto the docks, and found cover behind a stack of crates and the idle wagons they found there. Garreth poked his head over the top of the crate to survey the battle that was raging nearby.
“Archers, on me,” Garreth commanded, and then he pointed up to the watchtowers.
Garreth counted down from three on his fingers then himself, Novas, and the ten other archers stood up and sent a volley into the nearest watchtower. While some arrows careened off the wood panels, others found their mark completely. As the Malquian soldiers in the trench had the attention of the Blackwoods archers, there was not any return fire towards Garreth’s troops. Garreth soon had his soldiers up again with two more volleys of arrows. Either dead or hiding from the barrage they faced, the western most watchtower became seemingly empty of attackers, so Garreth pointed out the partnering tower to the east. Again, the archers of the Crown Army rained their shafts down upon that fixed emplacement. Since those structures were filled over capacity, the Blackwoods lost most of their numbers after the first and second volleys. After the third, the occupants of the last tower appeared to be dead or were playing chicken as well. Garreth left five swordsmen to defend the unit of archers on the ground and ordered them to keep those watchtowers covered.
Together with Ilsa, Kayten, and his son, Garreth charged the flank of the siege engines in an attempt to free the rest of the army from their entrenched position. Garreth and Novas charged the first machine with Darkbreaker and Dawnbringer drawn and slew the two soldiers who were using it. They hacked away at coils that powered the machine and sprinted towards the next one. As an arrow whistled by Novas’ head, he barely ducked under its passage and looked up towards the eastern watchtower. The archer who had cast it at him was struck himself, and he fell from the height of the tower, leaning over the edge of
the railing and grasping the wound in his chest.
By the time they had made it to the second siege weapon, a new division of enemy forces began to pour out of the camp, a mixture of the darkly-garbed Blackwoods and the traitorous Queen’s Aegis. Kayten and Ilsa finished off the operators of the second machine while Garreth and Novas began to fire arrow after arrow into the assaulters who now rushed their position. They returned their swords to their grasp, and Garreth rallied his troops around him. They moved towards the next siege machine as the new wave of opponents fell upon them. Directly south of the camp and north of the trenches, Garreth’s party was in the center of the field when they were surrounded. Worse yet, the crew manning the ballista to the east had begun to prime their weapon in towards the Malquians.
“Down!” Garreth shouted as he heard the unwinding of those tightened coils, and he reached out towards Ilsa’s shoulders and urged her towards to the ground.
Lost in the passionate rhythms of battle again, Kayten had barely heard the command but was struck with a sudden curiosity when she saw her allies bow around her. From the corner of her eye, she saw the gleam of the bladed arrowhead as it was unleashed from its holster and barely had the chance to move before it was upon her. She raised her shield against it, angled towards the air, and she was knocked over completely by it; its massive weight and force ricocheted off the shield and pushed her into the ground. The pain in her arm was immense, spots began to dance before her eyes, and a redness gathered on the rim of her vision. She had wondered if she had broken her arm but had little time to worry about it before Novas pulled her up to her feet, and the battle raged on once again.
From the back of the field, Berault saw that the first line of siege weapons were being dismantled, so he sent the main division of archers forward to cover the advancing troops. The archers stopped just south of the trench, found cover behind the spiked deterrence and then began to send their arrows into the Blackwoods soldiers pouring out of the camp. Seeing that the ranks had moved up behind him, and that Garreth’s unit had disabled the archers and siege weapons in front of him, Behn commanded his troops out of the trench, and the multitude of entrenched Crown Aegis moved forward towards the southern opening of the Deepshine camp. It was a sure relief to Garreth when the Vandarian western flank crumbled away at Behn’s push; that made him free to keep moving east to dismantle the remaining siege weapons and give Eyrn’s troops an opening to move forward as well.
There was a great skirmish in that small plot of land. The Blackwoods, the Queen’s Aegis, the Vandari, and every type of soldier under the banner of the Crown Army battled there, exchanging strikes, blows, bludgeons, and powerful words. Though they were fast and cunning, the lightly-armoured Blackwoods did not fare well in the tumultuous melee that ensued as their guards were eventually broken and their flanks were exposed by the frequently changing lines of opposition. The Vandari fared better because they were trained soldiers who were armoured and armed well. Most were equipped with shields and swords, and they were quite effective in groups. Yet, mixed with the Blackwoods and the Queen’s Aegis, their practiced strategies and teamwork was worth little, and many were separated and put to the sword. Trained brawlers, callous henchmen, and brutal enforcers, the Queen’s Aegis posed the largest threat. Encased in their shell of steel-plated armour and decorated with the black and gold tabard of the Blackwoods, even the strongest sword blow deflected off their sides; only the rarely-equipped hammer or expertly placed gouge pierced the formidable defense. With their steel broadswords, they swept through the soldiers of the Crown Army in small groups, maintaining perimeter of the camp and never staying in one place too long.
When the last of the outer siege weapons had been unmanned and dismantled, the battle continued outside the southern gate of the Deepshine camp. The outer watchtowers were aflame now as flaming arrows were shot into its depth. Each soldier fought in between the two flaming pillars while the structures collapsed. Behn had moved the remainder of his forces forward out of the trench, and all the shieldsmen and other warriors were now at the front of the ranks with their officers. He, the only soldier who had opted to wear the steel plate armour, and the only one strong enough to move deftly in it, was born to fight the front lines. He roared as the enemy struck his shell but failed to cut at his skin, and he retaliated in kind with his sweeping strikes. No defense was strong enough to deflect the sweep of his claymore that was twice as thick as any sword he had known. The well-worn blades of the Blackwoods and the sabers of the Vandarian soldier shattered at the passing of the mighty weapon that which was passed down from father to son and inherited by a vengeful brother.
A blunt smash reverberated across Behn’s back and made him turn about to face his attacker. He brought his sword around in a wide arc, deflecting the next sword blow that was primed to fall upon him, and pushed both swords downwards. With the two swords in the dirt, Behn reached out with his right hand in a fist and knocked his gauntlet square into the faceplate of a Queen’s Aegis, stunning his opponent. Behn stepped forward a pace and brought his right hand behind him, clasping his sword with both hands. He brought the heavy blade over his head from behind and down upon the steel soldier’s neck, crumpling the armour and the man entirely. Behn took another strike to the back as another two steel soldiers flanked him from either side of their downed comrade, and Behn raised the grip of his sword high, letting his blade hang down in front of him. He moved the claymore back and forth, parrying each blow as he stepped backwards into his line of allies. When both his attackers were in front of him, he kicked at the end of his sword, deflecting the incoming strikes. With the blade raised over his head once again, Behn brought it down in a powerful cleave, bending in the chest plates of his assailants. As they fell to their knees, Cern sidestepped towards one and plunged his sword into the faceplate, and Behn kicked the other to the bloody floor and then finished him with another crushing blow.
Quelling the might of these metal titans lowered the morale of the Blackwoods soldiers, and they withdrew a measure into the gates of the camp, forcing the Crown Army into the narrowed bottleneck of the camp’s walls. There, the remainder of the Queen’s Aegis attempted to hold the line against their opponents and did effectively until the battle began to shift once again.
The creaking of lumber and the screaming of tightened coils was heard. From farther north inside the camp, the second line of siege weaponry began to pour down upon the massing Crown Army ranks. The bombardment fell just beyond the bottleneck, and the officers shouted for their troops to spread out again and beware the falling doom. The archers of the Crown Army could not reach the depth of the siege engines without exposing themselves to the incoming fire or ground forces; the defense at the bottleneck held too effectively.
Garreth and Behn saw them first. Great weapons like scythes and sickles rose over the heads of the Vandari, dragging through the crowd without resistance. They pushed through the line of Queen’s Aegis and immediately began to push back their attackers with the devastating strokes of their powerful axes. A new foe, these Vandarian berserkers were a threat unlike any of the Crown Army had ever seen, for they were monstrous as Behn was mighty. With a black cloth shrouding their faces, the axemen were draped in large scales of dark iron like reinforced shingles on a tower or battlement, which covered them from their shoulders, down their chests, past the hips, and down their legs to their feet. Their armour wrapped around their sides, leaving only their bare backs and the back of their necks open to the air. Their weapon, a broad two-handed axe, had a grip the width of a man’s neck, and the blade itself was a serrated disk of death.
Almost immediately, the lines of the Crown Army buckled to this new threat, and the Blackwoods forces pushed through the gate once more. Behn, the terribly brave, saw these soldiers as the greatest threat and charged towards one with all his strength. This berserker saw the hulking steel soldier coming at him from the corner of the eye and bent a wicked grin from underneath his masque. As Behn brought his swor
d down, the berserker planted his axehead in the ground and haft to the air. As Behn’s sword connected with the handle, it was if Behn was striking a stone wall, and he felt the echoes of his strength rumble through his bones. The sword slid down into a notch on the axehead, and the berserker twisted the handle, drawing Behn and his blade forward and knocking him off balance. As Behn stepped forward to relinquish his blade and regain his stance, the berserker swung around on his axe and planted his shin against Behn’s head with a momentous flying kick. Behn had not been hit that hard in years, and in his daze, stumbled backwards, sword in hand, and fell against the dirt. Behn looked up into the sky as the berserker withdrew his axe from the ground and raised it above his head, stepping forward for the final blow. In his daze, it seemed as a dozen axes were about to fall upon him, crushing him into oblivion and cutting him infinitely asunder. The axe came down, and all Behn saw was black.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The shadow of his friend obscured his vision, and his ally Domminal was all that stood between Behn and a grisly death. Domminal, yelling aloud with his strength put to the ultimate test, held the weighty axe from falling. Only a hair width away from his own face, the axehead was stilled by crossing both of his swords and the guard that was locked between them. The berserker put all his weight into forcing the blade down, and Domminal’s blades grinded together until they were locked completely at the crossed hilts. When Domminal saw that the blades would move no further, he summoned all his remaining power, pushed the bulky axe head aside, and then let the berserker’s weapon fall, leaving a wide divot in the ground. The berserker pulled at his axe, trying to free it from the clinging earth, to much frustration and avail. Domminal called out for his allies and grabbed one of Behn’s arms, and then four of them dragged Behn away to the back ranks and deposited him in the trench alongside other fatigued soldiers. When the axeman finally had relinquished his weapon from the dirt, a new adversary stood in front of him as she twitched her fingers and sized up her enemy.