Stopping just outside the gate, the rider looked up to the battlements and announced, “The King’s army is coming! Eighteen thousand strong! They will be here by nightfall!”
A grim silence filled the air as Richard and his children digested the revelation they received.
Returning his attention to Richard, Brom pleaded, “Father! We have to send pigeons now! We won’t survive this without aid!”
Nodding, Richard agreed, “Aye. You do that, Brom. Dirk, send the engineers and stonemasons out! We will make do with what enhancements they have made so far! Double time!”
After those words, the entire castle was in an uproar as they made final preparations for the battle to come . . .
CHAPTER 20
Later that night, in bed chambers of Foxden Castle, Brom enters the room to find his wife Katherine Torren caring for their two children. One was a three-year-old boy, Robin, clinging to Katherine’s dress while the other was a one-year-old girl, Willa, in Katherine’s arms. Katherine looked at Brom with frightened eyes as she kept her children close to her.
“It is nightfall! Will they be coming soon?” Katherine asked in a trembling voice.
Brom held his hands in an assuring way, and answered, “Aye. It could be in a few minutes or a few hours, but they are coming. When they do, I need you and the children to remain here at the center of the castle. It is the most fortified section of the fortress. Promise me that you and the children remain here until the fighting is over.”
Clutching her children firmly, Katherine replied, “I will, but only if you promise us that you will survive this no matter what. I am too young to be a widow and I don’t want our children to grow up fatherless.”
Brom approached Katherine and gently embraced her and the children, who quietly cried. With a soft whisper, Brom vowed, “In the name of all the Gods . . . I will return to you, My Love.”
The family shared an intimate silence for what seemed like an eternity. Suddenly, a horn blew from outside of the castle, drawing the family’s attention upward.
Grimly, Brom murmured, “They’re here! I have to go! Stay here until the fighting is over!”
As Brom stormed out of the chamber, Katherine called, “Pray to the Gods and you will triumph!”
__ __ __
As Brom climbed the battlements, he saw the invading force for the first time. In the darkness, an ocean of torches lit up the landscape and the war horns blew in the distance. When the host got close enough, Brom could see the banners of Houses Baal, Karlor, and Ubba.
A deep sinking feeling tore at Brom’s gut as he witnessed the army approaching. They sent the messenger pigeons hours ago, but a part of Brom believed that help would not come. Their only hope was to hold off the King until he was killed by either a stray arrow or loses interest.
The battlements were armed with ballistas, catapults, and arrow slits. In addition, hundreds of men stood at the walls, bows in hand. At the front battlement was Brom’s family, fully armored and ready for battle.
Upon joining his family, Brom asked, “Are we ready, Father?”
Shrugging, Richard answered, “As ready as we will ever be. And we have a couple of surprises for them. They will learn why our sigil is a fox.”
Grinning, Edward added, “They just need to get a little closer.”
For many agonizing minutes, Robar’s army marched ever closer and became more menacing with each step. Brom noticed his father watching the invaders intently as though waiting for something to happen.
Finally, Robar’s army came to a complete halt. For a while, both the defenders and invaders stared each other down with great intensity.
Then a herald on horseback approached the castle gate and announced, “Baron Richard Letum! His Majesty, Robar Baal, King of Umbran offers you the following terms! You will surrender and your men will be spared!”
Ever defiant, Richard asked, “And my family? What about them?”
“You will be arrested and executed as pretenders to the Imperial Throne just like House Magnus!”
Turning to one of his crossbowmen, Richard ordered, “Kill him!”
Without hesitation, the crossbowman took aim and launched a bolt at the herald, piercing him through the throat. The herald fell off his horse as he choked to death on his own blood. With its rider fallen, the frightened horse fled towards the forest on the other side of the castle. In response to the herald’s death, the Baal army roared with rage and charged at Foxden Castle. The vanguard of the army was carrying siege ladders as though preparing to climb over the moat towards the walls.
Richard raised an arm and ordered, “Fire arrows, knot and draw!”
In response, all the soldiers on the front battlement drew arrows and lit them over torches. Once the arrows were ignited, the archers drew the arrows towards Robar’s army.
Then Richard waved his arm and declared, “Loose!”
The archers launched their flaming arrows towards the invaders, who raised their shields in response. However, once the arrows landed on the soil on the other side of the moat, it burst into a wall of flame that surrounded Foxden Castle two hundred yards in every direction. Caught off guard by the trap, hundreds of Robar’s soldiers screamed in agony as the inferno cooked them in their own armor. The rest of the invaders stopped just outside of the fire wall, watching in horror as their comrades ran towards them in flames. The Letum troops cheered in triumph as they watched their enemies burn to death.
Giving his men a vicious look, Richard chided, “What are you cheering about?”
Sharing the soldiers’ enthusiasm, Edward declared, “We just wiped out at least a thousand of their men!”
Scowling, Richard countered, “Aye! We did, but there are still seventeen to sixteen thousand more to kill! Our fight is not yet over!”
__ __ __
Two hours after being caught by the Letums’ trap, King Robar and his generals set up camp and convened in their tent. The atmosphere was full of tension as they debated on what to do next.
Slamming his fist against the table, Robar demanded, “How could this have happened? How many men did we lose?”
Shifting his weight, Harald answered, “Apparently, they managed to soak the soil around the moat in oil and lured us in so that they could burn us once it was lit. To make matters worse, the fire wall, the moat, and the castle walls combined are preventing us from using siege towers, ladders, and battering rams. Our only option is to bombard the castle into submission with catapults and trebuchets.
As for how many we lost, well over one thousand men have died in that inferno and hundreds more are so badly burned they can no longer fight. All that together means we have lost two thousand fighting men with one volley of arrows. What do you want to do with those who cannot fight?”
Laughing mirthlessly, Robar scoffed, “Kill them and save their bodies for my personal food storage.”
Robar’s war council remained silent and looked at him with disgust, but when he gave them a threatening glare, Harald said, “As you wish, Your Majesty.”
Displaying a false smile, Robar asked, “Excellent! How long will it take for the fire wall to burn out?”
One of Robar’s generals replied, “Probably by morning, Sire.”
After contemplating for a moment, Robar ordered, “We shall spend that time wisely. Have the engineers chop down every tree in the area to build siege weapons. Also, put sentries on alert for any reinforcements and have the men dig trenches. When the fire dies down, we strike.”
CHAPTER 21
Bargate Castle . . .
The fortress of Bargate was a peaceful and tranquil location, surrounded by vast and lush farmland. The castle was a motte-and-bailey design and sat in the middle of a large lake-like moat, giving it the appearance of a manmade island. Hanging from the walls and battlements were banners bearing the sigil of House Torren: a grey portcullis on a blue field. Inside the wooden keep, Baron Braun Torren was sorting through documents in his study when his son Edgar and
daughter Lisa burst into the room in a frantic state. The resemblance of the family became apparent since they all shared auburn hair and blue eyes.
“Father! A messenger pigeon from Foxden Castle!” Edgar loudly announced.
“Katherine and her children are in danger! King Robar has laid siege to the castle!” Lisa added as she breathed heavily.
Dropping his papers, Braun kept a straight face and held his hand out expectantly as he silently asked for the letter. Uneasy, Edgar and Lisa obeyed their father’s quiet order and he snatched the letter from them.
After examining the letter, Braun gruffly ordered, “Begin levying men and send pigeons to anyone else who would join us. It is finally time to bring House Baal down.”
Bowing briefly, Edgar and Lisa in unison said, “Yes, Father!”
Then the Torren siblings left the room, leaving Braun alone with his thoughts.
Braun looked the letter again, and bitterly whispered, “That dynasty of madmen had eaten their own subjects for generations and now they murder my sister’s children and threaten to kill my own child and grandchildren. This insanity ends one way or another. I swear by all the Gods!”
__ __ __
Meanwhile deep in the Umbran forests, Numen dodged a halberd that nearly took his head. Jumping several steps back, Numen took a defensive stance while the surrounding crowd cheered for blood. The man in front of Numen was a hulking brute wearing mismatching armor and chainmail with a rusty halberd in his hands. His face was concealed by a helmet that resembled the head of a wild boar. This individual was called Boar Face by the audience.
As he locked eyes with Boar Face, Numen recalled what had happened over the past two weeks. After Numen and Hondo were abducted, they were taken to an abandoned castle that was in between the territories of the Civil Folk and the Welts. It was an old yet ruinous fortress with few walls still standing. Even more fascinating was the fact that it was apparently not made by human hands. At first, Numen suspected that it was constructed by the dwarves before they became extinct eons ago. Numen heard rumors of places like this where criminals and slavers operated to hide from the law.
The men who took them were slavers who wanted to use them in gladiatorial battles for the entertainment of their fellow outlaws. When Numen refused to fight even when he was threatened, the slavers held Hondo hostage to coerce him to fight. After witnessing Naera die, Numen did not want to watch Hondo die as well.
With no other option, Numen did as the slavers demanded and fought many death matches. When he started fighting, Numen’s swordsmanship skills were average. However, after two agonizing weeks, Numen’s instincts became sharper, his technique more conservative, and his mindset more ruthless. With Gramfyre by his side, none of his opponents could stand against him. Not only did this assure Hondo’s safety, but it made the betting slavers obscenely rich.
Unfortunately, Numen noticed that something was different about Gramfyre. During the first few days using it, Numen would feel an unstoppable surge of energy that threatened to consume his very being. With that power, Numen could overcome anyone or anything. Now, that power was gone yet Gramfyre remained as strong and sharp as ever. Still, the fact that Numen could no longer draw on Gramfyre’s magic made Raza Hornbane furious with him even though Numen was still giving him profit from his fights.
What debilitated Numen most was a lingering pain that latched onto his psyche like a horrendous parasite. Naera’s death struck Numen with the force of a giant’s fist. He had just begun to form an intimate connection with her and she was taken from him without warning. This, in addition to the loss of his entire family and home, increased the misery and suffering Numen endured and filled him with an uncompromising sense of despair. With the deaths of many loved ones and becoming a slave, Numen gave up all hope of reaching his Letum cousins alive. Only fighting and killing in the death matches seemed to dull the pain.
Numen had slain so many men in the fighting pit that the blood of his enemies stained the phoenix sigil on his makeshift cloak. As a result, the spectators came to call him the Red Phoenix. After a while, Numen grew attached to his new title.
Returning his attention to Boar Face, Numen held his shield up while holding Gramfyre at the ready. With blind fury, Boar Face swung his halberd at Numen, but Numen blocked the blow with his shield before pushing it aside. With the halberd deflected, Numen delivered an aggressive thrust with Gramfyre at Boar Face’s left thigh. Boar Face grunted in surprise as Numen’s blade pierced his leg.
Furious, Boar Face pushed back, almost knocking Numen’s shield out of his hand. Numen rolled with the attack before getting back on his feet. Boar Face swung his halberd again, but Numen charged at Boar Face with his shield in front of him. The force of Numen’s lunge was such that he pushed Boar Face to the ground. With his opponent defenseless, Numen thrust Gramfyre into Boar Face’s gut before twisting the sword as he pulled it out. Boar Face bled profusely and his entrails slithered out.
To Numen’s horror, he found some grim satisfaction for slaying his enemy even though they fought one another unwillingly. It was a sensation that became more common with each fight, making Numen feel less remorse or mercy. This satisfaction intensified as Boar Face finally went permanently still and the spectators roared with applause. Drunk on bloodlust, Numen bellowed with them.
__ __ __
Later that night, Numen found himself in the castle’s dungeons, where other slave fighters were stored. They were all eating their daily rations of stew. What frustrated Numen was that the slavers did not waste any meat on the slaves so they gave him and his fellow captives a bland broth that had no meat in it. The wretched stew left a bad taste in Numen’s mouth as he took it one spoonful after another.
What infuriated Numen most was that the slavers had him put Gramfyre just outside of the dungeon cells. Since only Numen could touch the sword and live, the slavers could not store it in the armory with the rest of the weapons. Therefore, they decided to use it for psychological purposes by forcing Numen to place the sword right outside of his cell. It was a way to instill hopelessness in Numen. The strongest blade in known existence could potentially set him free, but was out of his reach at the same time. Over the past few weeks, Numen accepted the despair the tactic was inflicting on him.
As Numen continued to eat, he surveyed the other slaves around him. Over time, Numen came to know several of them. Sitting next to Numen was a frail boy in his mid-teens with sandy blonde hair named Wil Famul. While most of the other slaves were hardened pit fighters, Wil was shy and not strong enough for combat. Instead, the slavers used him as someone who kept records on all of the slavers’ finances during the death matches.
When Numen spoke to Wil, he found out that Wil used to be a Sage in training until the slavers raided his Temple and abducted him. Wil’s upbringing as a Sage made him both deeply religious and highly educated with a strong love for writing. However, Wil’s writing passion was soured due to his enslavement, but he still prayed to the Gods for salvation. Also, Wil’s timid nature made him a target for abuse for the bigger and stronger slaves, but Numen protected him whenever he could because Wil reminded him of his brother Jacto. After every one of his matches, Numen noticed that Wil watched him with great interest.
On Numen’s right was Tristan Ballows, who was a slender yet muscular youth around Numen’s age with messy brown hair. Like Wil, Tristan was a quiet and reserved individual, but was frighteningly murderous when he needed to be. In the arena, Tristan’s weapon of choice was always a katzbalger sword, which he utilized with a one-handed style that was deadly and efficient. Before being abducted by the slavers, Tristan was part of a family of hunters who lived on the other side of the forest. Due to his upbringing as a hunter, Tristan’s favored weapon was always a bow and an arrow even though he was forced to use a sword.
Next to Tristan was a red-headed man in his early twenties named Joe Karly, who was a perfect balance between lean and muscular. In the arena, Joe’s weapon of choice was
a pair of kukri daggers, which he wielded with surgical precision. Joe was one of the more shady characters Numen has seen in the area. The reason for this was because Joe used to be a petty thief who stole from gentry. Eventually, Joe was caught stealing from a nobleman’s coffers and was illegally sold into slavery to compensate the nobleman’s losses. In conversation, Joe proved to possess a silver tongue and told stories that were difficult to believe.
Finally, there was a strong and intimidating man in his early twenties named Clovis Virtus. Clovis possessed black hair and blue eyes and was considered handsome if it were not for the gnarled scar above his left eye. In the arena, Clovis’ weapon of choice was a heavy war hammer. As one of the most experienced pit fighters, Clovis was a hardened survivor of over one hundred death matches and was never defeated. Based on what Numen had heard, Clovis was the son of a blacksmith and had been an undefeated pit fighter for eight years.
Sitting with them was Hondo, who was gaunt from poor nutrition and growing a beard. Since the death of his sister and his subsequent status as a hostage left Hondo in a state of depression. He rarely spoke after spending time with the slavers. Numen hated how Hondo was being used against him and wondered if he would ever be able to free him.
As Numen continued to eat his stew, Wil softly asked, “You fought well against Boar Face, Numen. Do you know who you will be fighting next?”
Numen remained silent, but Clovis answered, “Me. I have been watching your fights, Magnus. The slavers say you have some magic sword that made you kill half a dozen men, but I did not see anything magic about your weapon. Sure, it may be stronger, lighter, and sharper than most blades, but I don’t see anything mystical about it. If that were true, you could get us all out of here!”
Nodding in agreement, Hondo added, “Aye. I saw you draw on that sword’s power to slay the Graega? What is taking you so long?”
Numen the Slayer (Magnus Dynasty Saga Book 1) Page 8