Killingford: The Hieromonk's Tale, Book Two

by Robert Reginald

  “The five thousand reached the retamed ford, and there they met five thousand Pommerelians head-on, right in the middle of the water. For our enemy now understood exactly what this struggle was about, and they had determined to commit their entire force, if necessary, to prevent us from advancing further.

  “It was like two wrestlers of equal weight and skills, matched against each other in the ring, with neither willing to give even an inch to the other, and no time limit to the match. Back and forth the tide of battle surged, and the Falling Water turned red with the blood of the soldiers. From our vantage point we could see the stain flowing downstream, spreading ever further as the afternoon progressed. Gradually the fighting diminished as both sides neared exhaustion, and the tattered remnants of the two brigades slowly withdrew to their respective sides of the Falling Water. No advantage had been gained.”

  * * * *

  “In mid-afternoon the kings decided to commit our main force. Prince Nikolaí’s cavalry had proved ineffectual in the fight due to the confined space available to him, and so his men dismounted, their horses being taken to the rear. From this point on they would fight as foot soldiers with the rest of us.

  “The Kosnicki Brigade also prepared to march, under the leadership of Count Dónan. After the previous day’s clash, we were only at half strength, but we would not be left behind. Prince Norbert was delegated to command the rear guard at the abbey up north. The Kórynthi army was prepared to take the Schilling-Ford.

  “By this point we had concluded that we were indeed facing all or most of the main Pommerelian army. Too many troops had been committed by our enemy for this to be a mere raiding party, and we had spotted amongst their officers men whom we believed to be high-ranking officials of state; one of our boys with exceptional sight had even identified King Barnim at his command post atop the far ridge.

  “I was watching the same high ground, when I noticed some activity across the valley, which I pointed out to Prince Arkády. Silently we observed streams of Pommerelian soldiers coming off the ridge, and assembling on the slope in front of it. Also, I noticed clusters of men doing other things that were not clear; they were partially hidden by the rocks along the top.

  “At last came the order to proceed, and I rejoined my fellow Kosnicki as Subcommander, now second in rank in our brigade only to the count himself. Fifteen thousand soldiers, in waves of five thousand each, began to march in file towards the lost village of Schilling. On the opposite slope, an equal number of Pommerelians started down the other side.

  “Suddenly, the enemy ridge blossomed with a row of great engines dragged up from behind, and these let loose a barrage of large and small rocks, as well as huge fireballs. Our forces were so densely packed that these missiles caused great havoc amongst our soldiers. I saw one huge stone hit ten feet in front of me, squashing the men there like so many ants. It bounced over my head and landed again somewhere behind me, rolling off to one side, and then back down the slope when its momentum was spent, mowing over a line of fighters in both directions. Our own machines opened fire on the enemy forces, and started chewing up the Pommerelian soldiers.

  “The armies met again in midstream, where the swirling current and slippery underrocks made fighting especially treacherous. The water here was three or four feet deep in places, just fast enough to sweep one’s legs away under the right conditions, and bitterly cold. So many men were crammed into such a small space that the dead sometimes remained standing until the mass of soldiers around them shifted, allowing them to fall. The ford was about a half-mile in width, but at its furthest edges contained deep holes that could swallow a man in an instant. This became less of a problem as the afternoon waned, as the spaces began filling with dead bodies, giving the survivors better footing.

  “I found myself facing a huge Pommerelian officer who outweighed me by several stone. The first big swing of his sword hit my shield so hard that my whole left arm went numb. I knew that death had come unless I could somehow outthink the man. My only advantage was the lack of maneuverability on both sides. On his next swing, I angled my shield so his sword would penetrate it partway. Then, putting all my strength into the motion, I yanked backwards with my left arm and body, pulling him slightly off balance. He was unable to get his own shield back into position before I ran him through the left side.

  “I finished him with a second blow, but lingered too long over my victory. I felt a blade cut into my right thigh, and would have died right there, I think, if my swordmate hadn’t cut the attacker down. I almost drowned in the cold water trying to get back to the shore. Several times I had to defend myself, but managed to push my attacker back long enough to escape.

  “The battle had now degenerated into a mêlée of man against man, or sometimes cluster against cluster. When I reached the bank, I pulled myself up onto the mud, and was dragged away by the doctors’ assistants back up the slope, and taken over the ridge to our temporary camp. As an officer, I received first treatment from the available physicians. My wound was cleaned and bandaged, but I had lost a great deal of blood, and was ordered to remain on the ridge. From there I watched the rest of the great battle.

  “I saw both Count Dónan and Makhtár Lord Ya’os carried to the medical tents. I followed them in, but there was nothing anyone could do for Lord Ya’os, I am sorry to say, milady; he was dead before he arrived.”

  Lord Maurin bowed solemnly in her direction, but Lady Zaménka was inconsolable.

  “Also killed this day was Prince Nikolaí, who took an axe meant for his brother, Prince Arkády. I did not see this myself, but heard about it later. Count Dónan was severely injured from multiple wounds,” Maurin continued, “but he survived the day, and although he lost his right arm, he appeared well on the way to recovery.

  “From the bluffs I watched the fighting continue. Neither side could pass the ford. Thousands of bodies of the dead and dying littered the ground, while others were gradually being swept downstream. As the sun began to set, the soldiers finally withdrew to their respective camps, most of them collapsing there without eating. I believe ten thousand men were killed in this one struggle, with casualties about equal on both sides.

  “Later that night, we officers were again called to the war council; there were many fewer of us left by this point. I had been named commander of the remnants of the Kosnicki Brigade until Count Dónan could return to duty. I appointed his two surviving sons, Lords Marón and Ambrósim, as my deputies, and all three of us attended the meeting.

  “The arguments that evening proved as fierce as the battles we had already fought. Some, such as Prince Arkády, believed we should withdraw, that we only had eight or ten thousand effective fighting men left, which was insufficient to take the great citadel of Balíxira, even if we won this battle. But King Kipriyán and King Humfried wouldn’t hear of retreat, and insisted that we push the conflict to its bitter end. In truth, our losses had been horrendous, far greater than anyone would have believed. I did not think that the ‘luck’ was with us anymore.

  “In the end, we lesser officers were dismissed to bed, and the handful of senior men remained to discuss some other alternative which they didn’t want us to hear. We only learned the results of their deliberations the next day.

  “I slept poorly that night, my sleep being filled with nightmares of giant Pommerelians coming at me with their greatswords. Morning came far too quickly.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  “A BRILLIANT FLASH OF GREEN LIGHT”

  THE THIRD DAY: THE FEAST OF SAINT BÓTOULPHOS

  Lord Maurin von Markstadt then requested a short break. He got up and stretched his legs and helped himself to a ladle of fresh water from the nearby spring, washing the taste of stale wine out of his mouth, before sitting back down again and resuming his narrative.

  “The next morning, strangely, we were allowed to take our time getting started. The men finally assembled about tritê, or more than three hours after sunrise. This caused a great deal of comme
nt in the ranks, which we officers soon put a stop to, believe me. Then King Kipriyán asked to address us all.

  “‘Brave soldiers of Kórynthia,’ his voice boomed down from his vantage point on the ridge, ‘victory will be ours today. You have all fought with great distinction here, and we will not sacrifice your lives needlessly. Therefore, we have decided to trick the tricksters with a magical working, which will frighten them into retreat and give us the edge we need to finish them for good. This will be a glorious day in the history of Kórynthia, and you will make it happen. For honor and Kórynthia!,’ he added.

  “‘For honor and Kórynthia!’ we yelled.

  “Then we moved out, marching from our camp up over the ridge and down the slope on the other side again. We stopped short of the point where the Pommerelian catapults could reach us. The remaining enemy troops assembled in force on the opposite side of the river. I thought I saw a glint of gold off the crown of King Barnim, who had now joined his men for what they assumed was the final battle.

  “Prince Arkády and Prince Zakháry rode out to our right and left, placing at each spot a strange, upright, metallic structure with branches sprouting out the top. King Humfried and Prince Pankratz took up their position with another device just in front of us, centered exactly between the other two princes. Behind us on the ridge, King Kipriyán began working a fourth engine with the assistance of Doctor Melanthrix and Prince Ezzö.

  “The first sign that we had of anything being different was a change in the quality of the light. It was as if someone had placed a tinted pane of glass over the sun. The air cooled noticeably, and a light wind began to swirl in the canyon. Suddenly I could hear a chanting coming from the kings and the princes. The hair on the back of my neck rose.

  “Gradually the wind became stronger and the sunlight dimmer. Men in both armies looked around at each other to find some comfort in their company. I was standing close to Prince Arkády’s position on the left side of the front line.

  “There was a sudden crackling in the air. Small bolts of green lightning began emanating from the metallic devices, reaching into the sky. Then Prince Arkády’s engine connected to King Humfried’s with a bolt of energy, and soon all had linked, one unto the others. It seemed to me as if the focus of the working was set at the central machine in front, for there the energies were obviously greater.

  “Some of our men began shrinking back away from the huge discharges that were emptying into the sky, but I kept my place. I’m a Kosnicki and a Markstadt, and I don’t retreat from danger.

  “A large emerald ball began forming above King Humfried’s device. It rotated above us, gleaming with green light and shot through with continual bursts of lightning. It seemed to me as if the other points of the nexus were funneling energy into the thing, making it increase in size at a steady pace.

  “Then something went wrong. I don’t pretend to understand exactly what they were trying to do, or how it was constituted, or the hazards involved, although I’m certain they were great. These were Psairothi adepts, and they knew better than I whether they could accomplish what they set out to do. I can only give you my impressions.

  “King Humfried shouted something to his son, and I saw Prince Pankratz’s pale features as he turned to gesture at someone up on our ridge. Then the ball began to rotate even faster as it drifted higher into the air, discharging bolts of energy randomly over the battlefield. One of these struck one of our men, knocking him dead.

  “Prince Pankratz made an adjustment to their engine, and yelled something to his father. King Humfried was making wild motions with his hands, his rings almost incandescent with the light, chanting a series of words that were drowned in the static given off by the green globe. By this time the orb had drifted to the center of the river, hanging about fifty feet off the surface. The Pommerelians were starting to run back up the opposite slope, and some of our men had also retreated.

  “A brilliant flash of green light from the ball struck Humfried and his son in their hands, burning them up where they stood. I think they must have died instantly. The links between the devices vanished, and the orb began to pulsate. Suddenly, bolts of emerald energy started shooting from the globe in every direction, striking the men on both sides at random.

  “I knew then the thing was out of control. I knelt down in the dust, quickly centered myself, and erected a screen of protection with my ley-ring, making my profile as small as possible to get the maximum benefit. I closed my eyes and covered my face, turning my back to the orb.

  “Then everything exploded. I was blown over and over, rolling at least twenty or thirty feet. Around me men were covered in flames, trying desperately to put out the emerald fires that were consuming them. Most died horribly.

  “For a moment I blacked out. When I came to, I somehow managed to stand up. Everything seemed strangely silent, until I realized I was temporarily deaf. Both slopes of the valley were blackened from the discharge. Thousands of corpses littered the ground, often frozen in grotesque positions, one or more limbs jutting in the air. Not far from me, Prince Arkády came to his feet. His hair was singed, and he was covered with soot, but like me, he had had the presence of mind to create a protective spell.

  “The killing fields of Killingford—there was no other name more appropriate—had claimed the lives of at least forty thousand men, including fifteen thousand or more on the last day alone. Those who survived were either protected by the ridge or by the bodies of their fellow soldiers or by ditches, only a few having the knowledge and the presence to save themselves in other ways.

  “I wearily began helping those few men who had survived the conflagration, and I could see the survivors on the other slope doing the same. We paid no more attention to each other, either on that day or on the next. The war was over, and everyone knew it.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  “NOT MUCH ELSE TO TELL”

  THE RETREAT

  Tears were streaming down Lord Maurin’s face, as they were on the cheeks of almost everyone listening to him. Even the children were unexpectedly somber, perhaps understanding in some vital way that their parents needed a temporary respite from their demands.

  Finally, he regained sufficient control of himself to continue.

  “There is not much else to tell,” he said. “We spent two days there trying to recover the wounded and to identify the dead. Except for the royals and the major officers, who were preserved in brine for the trip home, all of the men were buried in common graves. Thank the Lord that the King Kipriyán and his sons, the Princes Arkády, Kiríll, and Zakháry, all survived. However, the old patriarch perished of heart failure on the return.”

  He crossed himself before continuing.

  “Dear lady”—he went over to Countess Tirÿna and kissed her hand—“I regret to inform you that your esteemed husband, Dónan Count Kosnick, died of his injuries on the second day after the battle, the nineteenth day of June, the stump of his arm having festered, with the poison going into his body. There was nothing the few remaining doctors could do for him.”

  Tirÿna’s face was a study in grief.

  “What about my younger sons?” she managed to gasp out.

  “I’m truly sorry to say that I don’t know what became of them,” Maurin replied. “They were not recorded on the official register of the dead officers, but many bodies were burned beyond recognition. They could have survived and been captured by partisans, and if so, you will undoubtedly receive a demand for ransom. But I did not see them among the survivors, and I cannot offer you much hope, Lady. My heart and that of my wife go out to you.”

  “My Bödö, what became of him?” asked Pímay Lady Béçin.

  “Lord Bödönal was alive at the beginning of the third day at Killingford,” Maurin said, “but I never saw him thereafter. Again, I’m sorry I have no more information.

  “Please!” He held up his hands. “I’ll be happy to talk to you individually afterwards. First let me finish what remains to be said a
bout our expedition.

  “We returned to Saint Paulinos’s,” Maurin continued, “but it had been gutted, and our supplies taken or lost. We had about five thousand men left, many of them burned or injured. We began the long trek home, fighting off partisans and irregulars along the way. Fortunately, we still had our horses, and we did meet with some additional supply trains and reinforcements coming up from the south, which helped considerably.

  “Still, it was a long, hot, slow, and arduous journey back to the relative safety of Borgösha. The Skopélosz Pass was so crowded with troops and messengers that we had to wait for some days before we could cross. Then we reached Myláßgorod, and since I had been severely injured, although now partially recovered, I asked to be released from my commission. This I was allowed to do, but they wouldn’t even give me a horse or let me transit to Podébrad. So I started home on foot, determined to get here by any means possible.”

  “What about the Forellës?” one old man shouted.

  “Dead, all of them, and good riddance, too,” Lord Maurin replied. “I hear tell that there’s an old aunt or two around somewhere, but I don’t know if that’s true or not. I don’t think we’ll see them again.”

  Then Maurin’s servant Wyvin came forward, kissed his master’s hand, and raised it up into the air.

  “My lords and ladies,” he exclaimed, “I give you Count Kosnick!”

  “No!” Maurin shouted. “No! Please stop, Wyvin. I appreciate the sentiments, but we simply do not know if Count Dónan’s sons are really dead. I will allow three months from this day for them to return home or for a notice of ransom to arrive here, and if nothing comes, then we can take the appropriate steps. Milady Countess, please accept my apologies.”