by Thandi Ryan
‘We need more than soldiers in our army,’ conceded Rakan.
‘What do we need?’ asked Bryce.
‘We need: officers, guardsmen, seers, empaths and other sorcerers,’ answered Rakan.
‘It will happen,’ said Kenaz confidently.
‘It must,’ Rakan said slowly.
And it did, at least with empaths and sorcerers, but they could find no seer who was willing to join them. From the east through to the west, Rakan, Rufus and Bryce sought and found sorcerers and empaths. They got them to join them using all the devious tactics that they knew. For the most part they offered power, which was seductive in its own right, but if that failed them; they used magic, or mind games or hallucinations and for those who still refused to join – they simply killed them, or Rakan or Rufus turned them into an animal.
Some of those who practised magic were often easily seduced with the promise of secret knowledge and more power. Rakan and friends soon found that there were more sorcerers than there were empaths but still, there were no seers, for they had received visions of what Rakan and his army wanted to do the world and the people in it, but none could see the outcome.
Most seers wanted no part in Rakan’s plan, for they were good people and the rest, were too scared to embark on such a dark journey. Waldon and Kenaz continued to enter inns and start fights with all of those who were in there and when they left; the patrons were always on the floor bleeding, dying or dead and anyone who had remained standing only did so because they had agreed to join the new dark army.
Now the five men had taken Santeb and Aradene and now; Mantor was in their sights. They set forth on their journey to Mantor as a force to be reckoned with and as always, hell bent on destruction and conquering. They travelled by day and slept by night and after five nights they arrived in the mighty Mantor.
By now, Rakan’s army was barely recognisable from the early rabble that they had recruited: now they were a fighting force. They wore leather culrasses, wrist and knee bands, heavy cotton skirts or trousers lined with metal strips and heavy sabatons. They were armed to the teeth with swords and daggers, along with other weapons such as: battles axes, war hammers, bows and arrows and crossbows. Most of them carried two to three weapons of choice and those who were lucky enough to be on horseback, carried more weapons and supplies.
When the army came to a halt and they were looked upon, they looked deadly and fierce and it was understandable that anyone seeing them for the first time would almost certainly have run for their lives. When they moved, they now moved in unison and in a flawless march and formation. Rakan, Rufus, Waldon, Kenaz and Bryce led the way, and they were followed by the magicians and empaths, and behind them, were the troops. On they marched until the reached southern Mantor.
‘Rakan, we cannot take the whole of Mantor,’ Rufus said.
‘I know,’ Rakan replied.
‘Then why?’
‘We can’t take Mantor, but we can hurt it and divide it – all the way to the north before we reach Basimine. Besides, many of the Empress’s guard are here, but most are loyal to Waldon, Kenaz and I, and they will join us.’
‘That will more than double our number again,’ said Waldon.
‘Yes it will,’ agreed Rakan; ‘and as I told you back in Amalah, our hard work will be rewarded.’
‘If they join us,’ cautioned Rufus.
‘Oh, they will join,’ said Kenaz, confidently.
‘Yes they will,’ agreed Waldon.
‘We have no choice anyway,’ said Kenaz. ‘We started from the east and had the intention of going westwards nation by nation until we reach Lansten and then we were to go to Amalah. We cannot deviate from that journey now that we have conquered two nations; time and man power will not allow for it.’
‘Fear not Kenaz, we will survive Mantor,’ said Rakan.
‘We will, but will they?’ Waldon asked, as he turned his head backward to look at the soldiers.
‘Mostly.’
When Rakan, his friends and their army had arrived in Mantor, their arrival had not gone unnoticed. The Zulus and the Xhosas had witnessed their arrival and had been concerned at such large numbers entering into their homeland. The next morning the chief sent two of his riders to Rakan, Rufus, Waldon, Kenaz and Bryce to ask them why so many of their number had come to Mantor. The riders were allowed to ride to where the five men were located and when they reached them, they dismounted from their horses and spoke with the five men.
‘Chief Ulundi wishes to know why so many of you have entered Mantor at once?’ the rider asked Rakan.
‘To destroy it,’ Rakan said.
The two men looked blankly at Rakan, they heard what he said but they were not quite sure that he was really saying it and so, the two men looked at each other and then back to Rakan.
‘To destroy it!’ Rakan said again. ‘To destroy Mantor, you, the chief, everyone and everything.’
The two men were still not willing to believe that what Rakan was saying was really what he meant and so they looked at the other four men, but they simply stared back while they remained silent. Rakan signalled to two of the soldiers with his eyes and before they knew it, the two Zulus had two swords at their throats courtesy of the two soldiers who were now standing behind them.
‘You don’t believe me?’ Rakan asked, raising his eyebrows.
Rakan brought forth his hand and a fireball appeared before the eyes of the two hostages.
‘Believe it,’ he said forcefully. ‘Tomorrow we are marching north and everything in our wake will be destroyed, so tell your Chief he has two choices – join us or leave.’
Rakan extinguished the fireball and once again signalled to the two soldiers who then let them go. The two men looked at Rakan one more time and then looked around surveying the soldiers before them.
‘Go!’ Rakan ordered them.
The two men did not need telling twice, they darted to their horses and mounted them faster than they had ever done before and raced off back to their village to tell the chief. The chief heard what Rakan had told them and he listened to the proposition and accepted neither; the Zulu’s and the Xhosa’s joined together and worked throughout the night so that they could defend themselves, their homes and their land.
The untrained women and children were evacuated and the men gathered together to prepare to fight; they gathered their weapons and donned their warrior dress and planned what they would do if they were to fall to the army that would soon be descending on them.
At dawn, Rakan’s army began its advance to battle; they marched down hill and through the first villages to find that they had been deserted. However, when they reached further north they heard humming noises and faint drumbeats and the further they advanced, the louder the humming and the drumbeats became. Some of the soldiers were unnerved by it and nearly all of the empaths and sorcerers were too.
The soldiers advanced with Rakan and his four friends leading them and when they began another descent into dead ground, there they saw the Zulus and the Xhosas all lined up ready to fight. They were dressed in their famous warrior dress and were armed with spears. They were at least fifteen hundred strong and they were still making the din that became even more unnerving the closer the soldiers got to it; the Zulu’s and Xhosa’s were spread out in lines of one hundred that went ten deep and they too looked an awesome and fearsome sight.
When Rakan led his men down to the dead ground, they made a new formation. Waldon and Kenaz climbed down from their horses and stood in front of their troops and they raised them to fervour and when they had finished, the soldiers were making a war cry of their own. Waldon and Kenaz turned to Rakan, Waldon then nodded his head and Rakan then turned to face forward and when he was facing them, he raised his sword in the air and moved it forward giving his soldiers the signal to move. They moved forward as one, at great speed and making a thunderous noise as they advanced.
The Zulus and the Xhosa’s held their position for a long while and bange
d their spears on the ground as the enemy soldiers approached. Rakan and his army drew closer and closer and when they were close enough, the first line of Zulu’s and Xhosa’s hurled their spears at Rakan’s soldiers, hitting many of those who were in the front line, causing them to fall to the ground as they died or to with in agony.
The second line of warriors then ran forward to close the gaps left behind by the fallen first and they too, were hit by the Zulu’s deadly spears, but the soldiers were not deterred and the third and the fourth line stepped forward where needed. After that the remaining enemy soldiers closed the ground between themselves and the Zulu’s and they were now face to face with the warriors. There on the dead ground, the two sets of warriors clashed; they fought with their bare hands and weapons and as they did, bones crunched and bodies were broken as the fighting continued for hours on end.
As the soldiers fought, the sorcerers led by Rufus and Bryce made their way around the village and began to attack it and as the hours passed, the Zulus and Xhosa’s continued to fight while some retreated north, as they had planned, to get help from the people and the guard who were stationed in Mantor. Some were to reinforce the rear, while others were to ride straight to Amalah, to get help and even though not all of them made it; those who did, carried on riding and never looked back.
‘Adriel failed here,’ Kenaz said. ‘The people are still united.’
‘I know,’ said Rakan. ‘But they are still doomed.’
As predicted, the Xhosas and Zulus finally fell, outnumbered and out armed, they fell just after sunset and Rakan and his army rode north to continue what they had started. The fight had been the hardest and bloodiest all out battle that they had had to face and their losses were big. They rode north until they could ride no more and once there, they took rest and shelter for a day and a night before they resumed their rampage.
The further north they went, the easier things became, and as they moved northwards, they were joined by more of the guard, who had been willing to betray the Empress and the nations they had sworn to protect. Once again, Adriel had been effective in turning neighbours and villages against each other and it had not been long before they were turning to violence to try to solve their disputes and when Rakan and his forces arrived, one side or one village was always willing to join him, while the other side was decimated.
Mantor was massive then, just as big as Africa is now and so, when they were leaving the south, the army was split into groups that spread from east to west from there, they worked their way northwards. Waldon and Kenaz remained together and the two of them loved nothing better than to fight their way forwards in the thick of battle. They would enter village inns, fight and then let their soldiers’ loot mercilessly.
On the outskirts, of the south they entered yet another crowded inn. Waldon and Kenaz stood in the middle of the room and Waldon coughed loudly, gaining the attention of the occupants, who stared at the two giant strangers out of curiosity.
‘If anyone of you here can stand up to us then you will live to see another day and you may then choose – to join us – or to die,’ Kenaz told them. ‘If you don’t stand up to fight us, then the last time you celebrated the day of your birth, would have been the last you were to have.’
No one in the inn moved or spoke; they simply looked at the two men and eyed them up and down. Waldon and Kenaz waited a few seconds for the customers to react but when there wasn’t one, Kenaz grew tired; he looked around the room and saw a fairly timid looking man. He walked over to him and grabbed him by the back of the neck and then he ran forward with the now terrified man and slammed him into the wall and let go, and Kenaz watched as the man fell to the floor, clearly out cold.
That was enough to rouse the people in the village, mostly the women fled or hid and Waldon and Kenaz let them, as the men rose up and fought the now hostile crowd. Soon the pub was in chaos as Waldon and Kenaz fought, everyone was running about hiding or fighting – except for one person. They were sat at a table at the back of the room, their face hidden by a brown cloak and hood and they watched as Waldon and Kenaz bullied and beat their way through the inn. The figure remained dead still; it did not move, or speak, or flinch: even when tankards and other objects flew close by, narrowly missing it.
As Waldon and Kenaz fought the ever-decreasing number, they both noticed the mysterious figure that was not moving and they wondered why, and when they had put down the last contender in the brawl; they both approached the figure that was sat at the wooden table on a bench. Waldon and Kenaz stood at the opposite end of the table and stared at the small figure, their curiosity piqued.
‘You!’ Kenaz said shouting. ‘Why don’t you fight?’
The figure did not move or speak, much to the two men’s chagrin.
‘Answer us,’ Waldon ordered.
But the figure continued to ignore them.
‘Who are you?’ Waldon asked again, raising his voice.
There was silence again from the small figure.
‘Answer us or die,’ Kenaz threatened.
And still, the figure refused to speak. Kenaz, who was irked by the figure’s silence, leaned forward to grab the figure but the figure was far quicker than he. It stuck its palm at Kenaz’s face and plunged the other palm at his solar plexus sending him flying backwards and before Waldon could react, it put both palms on the table, lifted itself up, swung its legs forward and kicked Waldon in the chest sending him flying too.
It somersaulted through the air and landed on the other side of the table by the two men. It wasted no time with the advantage it had gained and delivered a powerful right kick to Kenaz sending him flying once again before turning to Waldon to deliver a punch to his stomach and his face. By now, Kenaz was standing up and he was shocked that someone – especially someone so small – had floored him twice.
‘He’s a spry little fellow,’ Kenaz said to Waldon.
‘Truly,’ Waldon replied.
The figure stood in between Waldon and Kenaz and prepared to fight the both of them. Waldon moved first and the small figure spun around and kicked him in the inner leg and then the other leg before delivering a back kick to Kenaz. Kenaz shuffled back slightly, and both men were stunned, for it had been a long time since anyone had been able to fight them single-handedly and they had never known anyone strong enough or brave enough to fight them both.
Kenaz was curious as to whom this fighter was, he reached forward and snatched the hood and pulled it down to reveal who it was and when the hood came down, both he and Waldon stared at complete and utter surprise.
‘You are a girl!’ Kenaz exclaimed.
The two men gaped at the short young black girl who had so far, managed to fend them off. The two men could not stop staring as they looked at this fairly feminine girl with long black hair which was put in a long plait who could not have been any older than Ellora.
‘A girl!’ Waldon said equally shocked.
The girl was Callan Knight and she wasted no time waiting for Waldon and Kenaz to recover, she went for the kill first, delivering a succession of alternating punches to Waldon’s body and face. Kenaz grabbed her by the back and pulled her off Waldon and then threw her to the ground. Kenaz went in with a kick but Callan had rolled away before springing to her feet but Kenaz was already ahead of her and he delivered a backhand and a hook to Callan’s face. Callan went halfway down but slyly delivered a number of kidney shots before ducking out from under him. Three of them began to fight once again. Callan Knight was quick and strong and awfully nimble and to their complete and utter surprise; whenever they did hit her, she remained standing or she got back up, unlike most of the men they had come across.
Waldon and Kenaz were enjoying the fight but Callan Knight had absolutely no intentions of staying in the inn to fight these two colossal men and so when the opportunity struck, she swept Kenaz’ leg and sent him flying on his back and then she turned to fight Waldon and executed a masterful throw that saw him land on the floor next to Ken
az; from there, Callan Knight wasted no time, she ran to the bar counter and sprang herself over it and then she then ran out of the back door and ran to her horse that was tied up.
Waldon and Kenaz were on their feet in seconds and following her, but Callan was already on her horse and riding away when they reached the backdoor. Some of the soldiers were chasing after her but they were quickly knocked to the ground by Callan’s fast flying fists or feet.
‘Who was she?’ Kenaz said rather impressed.
‘God knows.’
‘She should join us.’
‘Yes she should, but I don’t think that she would.’
‘You may well be right, but let’s give her the chance.’
Kenaz shouted to the soldiers and they were at his side within seconds.
‘Find her,’ he ordered them. ‘Track her down and bring her back to us, if she will not come then kill her, but be careful.’
‘But she’s just a girl.’
‘She escaped didn’t she?’ Kenaz said aggressively to the solider who dared to question him.
Four of the soldiers went in search of Callan Knight but after hours of searching and tracking, reaching dead ends and going in circles they gave up the hunt and returned to Waldon and Kenaz who scolded them harshly.
Callan Knight had not gone far, she had just hidden well and she knew the lay of the land better than anyone and when Waldon, Kenaz and the soldiers had gone; she back tracked and rode west to Filine and from there, she rode north and headed to Amalah.
Callan Knight was not the only one to flee to Amalah as Mantor was being plunged slowly but surely into darkness and despair. The guard, who had been betrayed but escaped, were also making their way north to Amalah to get reinforcements.
Men, women and children were also making their journey north to get help from the Empress and protection from her and the guard and as they fled, the journey for most of them was a treacherous and harrowing nightmare, as they fled their loved ones and their homes. Sometimes groups of Rakan’s army would ride past them and they would scatter and then run and hide; often the soldiers would ignore them but sometimes, they would not and they showed no mercy. Regardless of the soldiers’ actions, the displaced people still continued on their journey, hoping to get to Amalah.