by I. B. George
Damn… me and my big mouth, cried Mavar inside, thinking that he’s shot himself in the foot.
“Faster, you jokers!” called Zorval pointing towards Captain Cavas’s tent.
The captain was standing over a steamy chicken, ready to tuck into a roasted thigh. Next to it, a wide jug of wine was waiting to be enjoyed.
Pushing one another, the three soldiers went into the tent, ruining the captain’s good mood.
“Stop right there, buffoons!”
Mavar, who was the first one to go in, stopped suddenly, making Bug’ar, who because of his hunchback was always bent when he walked, bump with his nose into his back. From the height of his body, Grintas, who rushed behind his friends, propped his belly behind Bug’ar’s hunchback.
The whole thing was so funny that the captain couldn’t help himself and burst into a laugh.
“I should call you more often, to entertain me,” said Cavas with tears of laughter in his eyes.
Trying to look serious, although Bug’ar was propped in his backside, Mavar took position.
“At your orders, Captain!”
As he stopped laughing, the captain invited them to sit down, placing a towel over the chicken to everyone’s disappointment who thought there might have been plenty for all.
“Earlier today, in Prince Robert’s tent, I kept counsel with His Majesty and the commanders of the troops in the camp. At the end of the meeting I volunteered on a dangerous mission…”
“Dangerous, Captain?” swallowed Mavar as he sensed something wasn’t right.
“… which involves infiltrating Heldor Castle,” continued Cavas unperturbed. The prince has agreed that I take three of my best men with me and I thought of taking you, my friends.”
Grintas widened his eyes so much that his pirate patch jumped from its place, showing a perfectly good eye.
“It’s a miracle, “One-Eye”,” grinned the captain. “The gods gave you your sight back, may Lokar be praised.”
Cavas never understood Grintas’s madness about wearing that patch. He probably thought that if he were captured, it would inspire pity because of his alleged disability.
“I’m sorry Captain, but how do you plan on doing that, if I’m not being too inquisitive? I have a vague feeling that Tyreas will not open the gates for us and invite us in.”
“Of course not, silly. There is a different plan. At the moment you only need to know that we shall leave tomorrow at dawn, before the first ray of light. Take just your weapons and nothing else which might slow you down or make it hard for you to move in case of a battle. Is that clear?!”
“Understood, Captain!” they all called out, jumping to their feet.
The captain watched them dearly. Although on a daily basis they were dodgy, on the battlefield they were like beasts, and Cavas could not imagine having better fighters than the three friends before him.
“Now go and have a rest. I will speak to Zorval to excuse you from any other duties. Don’t forget: we leave tomorrow morning.”
Mavar and his friends agreed, nodding their heads vigorously after which, at their captain’s signal, left the tent.
***
In the underground chambers of the castle, King Tyreas was holding counsel with Elian, the wizard.
“Patience, Your Majesty,” Elian advised King Tyreas. “Remember the prophecy of the Oracle of Konaar. Any rushed decision could bring the end for you. We must remain calm and be more cautious than ever before.”
“Calm?!” snapped the king. “How can I be calm when a bunch of losers has gathered at the bottom of Heldor and are threatening me? Me, their own king!”
“Remember, King, that these people don’t see you as their rightful ruler. In their eyes you’re nothing but a usurper and a tyrant.”
“Me, a tyrant?! Have I not been ruling them fairly for almost ten years?”
“A big part of those present outside the castle are from among those banished beyond the Boundary… I don’t think they’ve seen it as an act of kindness,” argued Elian calmly. “These people are set against you, Your Majesty, and they’re determined to fight to the last. The prophecy is giving them hope that their fate might change from today.”
“Their fate shall be a dreadful one!” shouted Tyreas, turning red in the face.
Elian went over to the World Mirror and moved his hand across it. The surface of the mirror trembled, showing a glimpse of the camp outside the castle.
“Prince Robert is surely in the big tent… I can tell that from the flag bearing the Eremons’ coat of arms which is fluttering at the entrance. It might be a good idea for the Water Chosen to attack the prince’s tent from their flying machines. An army without a leader doesn’t mean anything anymore. Besides, if the prince is sent to the After World, the prophecy cannot be fulfilled.”
The king calmed down a bit when he heard the wizard’s words. He made sense: once gone from among the living, the prince would not be a threat anymore and if the day of tomorrow went past, the prophecy would have reached its end without being fulfilled.
“You’re right, wizard. Their army stands at four or five thousand souls. We have almost ten thousand soldiers. We shall keep two thousand to defend the castle and the rest we can send ahead to attack Eremon’s army. When the battle would be at its peak and everyone’s eyes would be turned to the battlefield, I will send the Water Chosen to destroy the prince. The few troops remaining with Prince Robert would not be able to withstand the flying machines and the water torrent released upon them.”
Elian mumbled in satisfaction, glad that the king had started thinking rationally.
“There’s one more day to go, Your Majesty. Then we can think about making plans for the future.”
“You’re right, wizard… after tomorrow we will destroy the reputation of the Konaar Oracle and the last offspring of the Eremon House will no longer be a danger to us.”
The king got up from his throne and headed for the door.
“I’ll go and give the orders. From tomorrow, the Eremon House and the rebels from the Kingdom of Fire will be a thing of the past.”
***
The first ray of light showed on the horizon, trying to lift the veil of darkness from the face of the Goddess Yari. Thick fog rose from the field around the camp and the soldiers on guard were yawning tiredly, thinking about the battle ahead.
Next to Captain Cavas’s tent, the preparations were in full swing. Mavar, Grintas and Bug’ar were checking their weapons and harnesses.
Rolan’s eyes were as small as a badger’s. He’d slept only a little, worried by the thought that after so many years he was going to go back to Heldor Castle, his home from long ago from where he had to leave like an outcast.
Sitting on a log, Captain Vidar was sharpening his sword by dragging a stone across the length of the blade in slow movements.
Voras was kneeling down facing the moon and was praying to the Goddess Yari, the patron of those from the Kingdom of Night, to protect him and his friends who were going to travel with him.
Azar fastened his dagger to his waist, checking one last time that everything was in place. With his right hand he touched his vest over his heart and felt the battle banner of the Eremons which Commander Sathor had given to him the day before. When the time was right and if everything went according to plan, he was going to raise the banner on top of the highest tower at Heldor Castle. He hoped with all his heart that this was going to dishearten Tyreas’s troops and make the soldiers throw in their weapons and thus avoid a blood bath.
Facing the castle with her hand clutching the sword, Aryana was watching with a frown the guards which could be glimpsed through the crenels of the castle.
“It’s time to go,” she said turning towards her friends. “It’s going to get lighter soon and we won’t be able to travel to the castle without being seen.”
“We’ll leave soon,” replied Azar. “Rolan has reassured us that he knows some paths which lead exactly to where we’re going to ge
t into the castle.”
Captain Cavas came out of his tent, placing his sword into its scabbard. Mavar had already saddled his horse and double-checked the harness.
“I’m ready to go, my friends,” he announced with a happy face. “I have a feeling that today is a good day for doing great deeds.”
They all smiled, cheered up by Cavas’s good spirits. Rolan mounted, urging his horse to one side.
“Let’s go, friends. All the way!” he called out.
“All the way!” they answered as they mounted their horses and started behind him.
From outside his tent which stood on a mound a few paces higher than the rest of the camp, Robert was following them with his eyes. At last, the small gathering disappeared inside the thick of a copse on the left of the camp, before the first ray of sun could light up the surroundings.
“May Lokar keep you safe, my friends,” he whispered, then headed towards the Professor’s tent, buried deeply in his thoughts.
***
For two hours Rolan led them through the twisted paths of the forest, riding silently ahead of the small group.
Well, well, friend Rolan, you really are taking us round and round this forest, thought Azar, wondering why his friend had not chosen a more straightforward way to the castle and was avoiding certain paths on purpose.
He urged his horse and approached Rolan.
“Have we got much longer, my friend?” he enquired. “It seems like we’ve been going through this forest since forever.”
Rolan laughed as he didn’t understand the true meaning behind Azar’s words.
“No, Master, I think we should get to the place in about quarter of an hour. It’s true we could have chosen a shorter way but I was afraid of bumping into the king’s guards. If I were him, I would take precautions so that the enemy doesn’t attack from behind the fortress.”
And who can tell if you’re not leading us straight into the hands of Tyreas’s soldiers, my friend? thought Azar again in his head. I don’t know what your connection with Tyreas is, but I feel there is one and I shall soon discover it.
“Then,” continued the master, “I look forward to the start of the battle. After such a long and adventurous journey, I think I can wait for another quarter of an hour.”
A few hundred paces ahead of them, they could glimpse the first rays of sun seeping through the thick foliage, a sure sign that the exit from the woods was near.
Azar looked up ahead of them and saw one of the castle towers through the gnarled branches. Instinctively, he reached for his sword, ready to face any potential trap. He thanked the gods that they’d travelled without rushing or worrying and his horse wasn’t tired. If there was any danger, he could easily run back to the camp and alert the prince.
A few paces before the edge of the forest, Rolan signalled to them to stop. He dismounted, left the horse in Azar’s care and advanced cautiously, keeping an eye on the crenels. There were no soldiers to be seen up on the ramparts. Somewhere on the right, a bit further from where he was, he noticed a twisted bush near the wall of the castle. Behind that bush, from what he could remember, was the huge boulder which blocked the entrance to the tunnel.
He urged his friends to tie the horses by the trees, then signalled to them to follow him quietly. He went across, running along the stretch of grass which separated the woods from the castle and approached the bush which covered the entrance.
Captain Cavas pulled out a small axe from his belt and diligently proceeded to cut through the wildly twisted branches. The others rushed to help, using their swords and managing eventually to cut down the branches which blocked the entrance.
A huge round boulder was stuck between the rugged sides of the cliff, covering the tunnel leading to the catacombs of the castle.
They tried to push it out of the way, but the rock remained stubbornly on its spot, helped no doubt by the considerable weight it seemed to have.
“There’s no point, we will never be able to budge it,” uttered Azar, furious that they came this far and now they found themselves impeded by a rock.
“We have to use something as a lever. Captain Cavas!” called Aryana.
“At your orders, Your Majesty,” answered the captain, suddenly appearing next to her.
“Give orders to your people to find a thick branch that we could use to move the boulder.”
Cavas nodded then called Mavar and explained to him what he had to do. Obeying Cavas’s orders, Mavar started towards the forest together with Grintas and Bug’ar to look for a suitable log.
“I think I have an idea,” said Rolan brightening up. “However, I would need all the water reserves you have with you.”
“What do you have in mind?” asked Voras.
“I was thinking I could use the force of the water while you push the boulder with the help of the log which Captain Cavas’s men will bring. However, I will need water to be able to use my powers. I think together we will manage to budge the boulder.”
“We have very little water with us, my friend, so we only get one chance. Use it wisely.”
“I’m aware of that, Voras, but I can’t see any other way. I know we only have one try, but that’s better than nothing, right?”
“Absolutely, my friend, absolutely,” approved the quiet Voras.
“Look!” uttered Aryana.
Everybody turned their eyes towards the place indicated by the queen. Mavar and his friends were carrying on their shoulders a thick, gnarled branch as they rushed to shelter by the walls as quickly as they could.
As they reached their friends, they hurled the branch by the feet of Captain Cavas who was watching them benevolently.
“It’s time, my friends,” urged Azar.
Everybody undid their water supplies and brought them all together, allowing Rolan to decide when was the right time to use his powers.
They placed the branch under the boulder and started pushing in their attempt to budge the giant piece of rock from its place. Their exertion seemed to be successful as the boulder gnashed against the rock and moved slightly from its place.
Rolan realised this was the perfect moment because pretty soon his friends were going to lose their strength from all the effort.
He concentrated then carefully lifted the water from the containers laid in front of him, making sure he wasn’t wasting even a drop of water as he shaped a see-through liquid sphere between his palms.
The others propped their shoulders once more against the branch they were using to move the boulder, pushing for a second time with even more vigour after their first success.
The rock budged again and Rolan decided this was the right time to use his powers.
With great force, he threw a torrent of water towards the boulder. The water spilled in long drips over his friends’ shoulders who happened to be in Rolan’s way.
Under the weight of the water, the boulder started rolling slightly and those manoeuvring the lever strained their last powers, managing to push it further. An opening of about two people’s width appeared at the side of the rock.
Everybody slumped, their strength wasted and unable to utter a word. At last, Azar started laughing and soon after, everyone else joined in. They were glad their efforts hadn’t been in vain.
They helped each other up. They wrung their shirts and wiped the water off their clothes then grabbed the weapons they had left lying in the grass.
A few moments later they disappeared, one by one, inside the darkness of the secret tunnel.
***
General Sathor received Prince Robert’s approval to send his troops to the battlefield. It was already light outside and the sun was illuminating the first hours of the morning with its rays.
The entire camp had been on high alert for the last half hour, tweaking the last details before the big confrontation.
The soldiers had prepared their swords or double-edged daggers while the archers counted their arrows and placed them in their quivers.
The riders were carefully checking the harnesses and swords and felt somehow calmer than the rest as they were going to go into battle later on, after the two armies confronted each other on the battlefield.
General Sathor mounted his horse and headed towards the edge of the camp. The soldiers started silently behind him, in a perfectly ordered single file. The commander went ahead, unperturbed, thinking that if today was the day he was going to the After World, then it would be on the battlefield and not in the desolation beyond the Boundary.
He reached half way down the field at the bottom of the castle and stopped his horse, raising his right arm. Behind him, the lines of soldiers halted and the men started spreading out, positioning themselves in groups of two hundred soldiers.
In quarter of an hour, the prince’s troops took their places and started waiting impatiently for the enemy who was yet to make a move.
Gamar, left in charge of those from the Kingdom of Night after Voras had left, approached Sathor.
“What do you think, honourable, will the king send his troops outside the castle or will he wait for the deadline of the prophecy behind the walls at Heldor?”
Sathor stroked his white beard and looked over to the castle walls.
“If we trust Rolan who seems to know pretty well the king’s character, Tyreas won’t be able to resist the temptation to end his torment and will probably attempt to finish this story before tomorrow. I am hoping that the king’s impulsiveness would give us a reason to go into battle because an attack on the castle is out of the question. We would all perish before even climbing the walls or getting beyond the gates.”
“You’re right, Commander Sathor. All we need to do is wait.”
“We ought to inspect our troops and make sure everything is alright,” said Sathor, turning his horse around and heading towards the soldiers who stood in their ordered lines.
He was proud of the men he was going to lead although he didn’t know many of them and was probably not going to ever again see some of those he did know.