‘Lord King, I bring terrible news. Fort Kronos has fallen and the Akonite army is but a few hours behind me.’
A stunned silence greeted his words and then everyone began to talk at once. The king’s voice rang out over the noise.
‘Silence!’
Then he demanded,
‘How can such a thing have happened warrior?’
‘My lord, the Akonites have a new king. His name is Demos and he is a sorcerer. He used his magic to bring the very cliffs down upon our heads. Fort Kronos and most of the garrison there were destroyed. I only just managed to get away to bring you the news. My lord, their army is even now laying waste to everything they pass and they will be here within hours. What are we to do?
Aractus began to issue orders to prepare the army for battle and men hastened to carry out his commands. He summoned his nobles and generals and when all were there he spoke,
‘My lords you have all heard the grim news and we all know what awaits us if the Akonites should take the city. I propose to ride out and meet the enemy on the plains before the city where we will be able to take the battle to them’
One of his men, Baron Jahinder, spoke up,
‘But what of the city my king, Should we not stay behind our stout walls and hold out until our reinforcements arrive?’
Aractus shook his head.
If the walls of mighty fort Kronos could not stand against him then nor will our walls protect us from this sorcerer’s magic. No, we will ride out to meet him rather than hide behind useless walls. This Demos may be victorious but if we are strong in our defiance, he will not find that an easy task. I have sent word to our northern garrisons to hasten here with all speed but until they arrive to aid us we are on our own. The men of Torr will not be found wanting in this time of trouble and the Akonites will pay dearly for their aggression against us.’
His words brought shouts of approval from the gathered nobility and Aractus grinned at his warriors in fierce appreciation and said,
‘You all know what you must do so let us then commend our souls to mighty Solus and pray that She will aid us against our foes. Go now to your posts and do your duty.’
He watched them go and then turned to Asgoleth.
‘Well my young friend, it seems that soon you will have the action you crave eh?’
Asgoleth raised an eyebrow; the king could read men well. He nodded grimly and said,
‘What of the princess?
He knew that Amira was at her duties in the innermost sanctum of the temple of Solus, a place where no man was allowed to set foot but he was not at ease when she was there. He had sworn to protect her and he couldn’t’t do so while she was acting as the high priestess.
The king smiled at him.
‘I know you fear for her but she is as safe there as she would be here. Besides, she knows that that is where her duty lies. Now tell me, are the men under your command ready to fight? In the coming battle we will need every man we can get.’
Asgoleth grinned at him.
‘Aye that they are, your majesty, I had to knock a few heads together before they would accept me as their commander but they know now who is in charge and they will acquit themselves well in the battle to come.’
Aractus smiled grimly, he could well imagine the barbarian’s methods and the reaction of the guards but he had to admit that his palace guard looked a lot more like fighting men since Asgoleth had taken command.
‘Very well then Asgoleth. Have your men go throughout the city and round up every able bodied man. See to it that all are armed and assign them to where they can be of most use. Then I want you to accompany me on a tour of inspection. Go now, for time is short.
Asgoleth strode off to carry out his orders and within a few hours the city had been transformed into an armed camp. Armed men were being formed up into their companies with grim businesslike efficiency. All there knew that their lives and the lives of their families were dependant on how they conducted themselves in the coming battle and all were determined to do their best to defeat the Akonite enemy. The entire citizenry of Torr From young striplings to ancient toothless old men were there and all were armed with weapons of some kind and each eye burned with the light of grim determination. Asgoleth nodded in approval, they would fight well in the coming conflict. All that could be done had been done.
Asgoleth walked with the king as he carried out his tour of inspection. They halted just above the main gate of the city and looked down upon the long line of frightened people who had come to the city seeking sanctuary. Asgoleth raised his eyes from the sight and looked out across the broad Torran meadowlands. Something caught his eye and he pointed.
‘Look there,’ he said.
The king followed his pointing finger and a curse ripped from his lips. Far off in the distance there was smoke; long, thin, columns rising up into the air that spoke of the destruction of towns and villages.
‘Damn them all!’ Aractus growled. ‘I will make these Akonite dogs pay for this.’
‘They will be here soon your majesty.’ the barbarian said. ‘I would advise you to try and get some rest before they arrive. The coming days will demand much of you.’
Aractus glared at him as if about to ask how he could possibly rest while his people were being killed and hounded from their homes. Then he saw the wisdom of the warrior’s words. The coming days would indeed demand much of him and there would be little opportunity for rest. He nodded in agreement then called down to the guards who were herding the frightened people into the city.
‘You men, Send word to the palace as soon as the Akonites are within sight.
The men below saluted and the king and his retinue returned to the palace. Once there, all they could do was wait. Asgoleth went to his own quarters after making sure that the king was safely within his own chambers. He lay down upon the bed and almost immediately fell into a light sleep. The nearness of death and savage combat did not cause him any distress. He was far too used to the presence of those grisly spectres . If he was destined to die in the coming battle, then he would die but he would make sure he took a large honour guard of slain enemies with him into grim Ragnars’ eternal halls. That, to a man of Calthia, was all that could be asked for. He slept on while outside the long day dragged by.
A light knock on his chamber door caused him to leap lightly to his feet, sword in hand and ready to deal death in an instant.
‘What do you want?’ he growled and a voice replied,
‘Captain, the king bids you attend him in the throne room at once, the Akonites have arrived.’
Asgoleth pulled the door open and found a young soldier there. He nodded at the man and said,
‘My thanks, warrior, now get back to your post quickly, we are going to need all the men we can get’
‘Aye Captain.’ said the man and hurried off. Asgoleth strode along the corridor that led to the throne room and as he walked he noted the growing darkness outside. A glance at the sun told him he had slept for almost four hours, which was a great deal longer than he had expected. He approached the throne room and entered.
Inside, the scene had changed. Gone were the flowing robes of silk, gone were the ladies and the courtly manners; in their place stood grim faced men in shining steel with weapons at their sides. The king was speaking.
‘Reinforcements cannot reach us before our food and water are exhausted so that only leaves us with two choices. We can surrender the city to Demos and hope that he will spare our people, or we can fight and pray that mighty Solus will grant us victory.’
He looked at his nobles and read his answer in their eyes. All there knew that to surrender and hope for mercy from the Akonites was pointless. There would be no mercy shown better then to ride out and meet the foe on the open land before the city where there was room to maneuver and fight. True, the Akonites outnumbered them but battles had been won before by the smaller army, if that army had the will to fight. The king nodded grimly, he knew that they had little
chance of winning but he knew that these men would make the Akonites pay dearly for victory.
‘So be it then my lords. Go to your posts and prepare your men to meet the enemy. May the blessing of mighty Solus go with you all.’
The warriors bowed to their king and left to carry out their orders. When all had gone the king looked at Asgoleth and studied him for a long moment.
‘And what of you Asgoleth, will you stay and fight at my side? If you wish to leave you may do so now with your honour intact. You are a man of the north and this is not your fight.’
Asgoleth grinned at him and replied.
‘I gave my word that I would defend you and I do not break my word to any man.’
Aractus smiled wearily back at him.
‘I am glad to hear you say so and I welcome your aid but you must know that we have almost no chance of winning.’
‘There is always a chance, your majesty. Victory does not always go to the side with the most men. This Akonite king is confident of victory, he thinks your people are cowed and in despair. He will find out how wrong he is tomorrow.’
Aractus nodded,
‘Let us hope so my young friend. Come now and let us look upon our defences. I want to make sure that all is in readiness for the morrow.’
He rose from his throne and Asgoleth walked with him as they made their way once more to the city walls. The sight that met their eyes was not encouraging. Out there on the plains the Akonite army had pitched camp. With the sinking of the sun they had lit their cooking fires and such was their number that it looked as if the starry heavens had descended to the earth.
During that long night while the frightened citizens looked out from their city walls at the fires of their enemies, king Aractus sat with his generals within the palace, deep in conference. In truth there was little to discuss, all knew that on the morrow their future would lie in the strength of their arms and on their determination to win.
Thus, when the light of dawn crept over the Agar Mountains, the gates of the city swung open and king Aractus led his army out to meet the hosts of Akon. Demos watched them come and smiled a cold, cruel smile. The ring upon his finger pulsed as he raised his hand and then he lowered it again as he changed his mind. He was still fatigued from his exertions at Fort Kronos and he decided to save his strength and let his soldiers earn their keep. He had little doubt that they would succeed in their assault but if they got into difficulties he could then bring his magic into play. Besides, he knew well that soldiers set great store by the loot and slaughter that their commanders led them to and he knew that when word got out about how cruel and merciless his soldiers were then that would help make future victories easier to attain. He smiled and ordered his army forward to face the charging Torrans. The two armies charged at each other and a deep growling rumble rose to the sky as they crashed together furiously.
Fired to desperate fury the Torran heavy cavalry, their white cloaks flying in the breeze, smashed into the front ranks of the Akonites. Men screamed and died under those iron shod hooves and the whistling swords of their foes but always there were others to take the place of the fallen.
Behind the valiantly battling mounted knights the Torran infantry surged forward into the cloven ranks of the enemy. The harsh, brazen notes of war horns mingled with curses and screams and the clang of clashing sword, axe and pike. Within moments a thick cloud of dust arose into the air above the battling warriors, blotting out the action from the view of the anxious watchers upon the city walls, leaving them to fret and worry helplessly.
All through that long day the armies fought with grim ferocity. The Torrans hacked and slew their enemies and none fought more bravely than king Aractus and his guardsmen. Asgoleth fought at the king’s side, his great sword rising and falling with deadly skill. With each stroke his blade drank the life of yet another Akonite warrior and a growing ring of corpses grew up around him. He towered over his foes, his face contorted into a grinning death mask which struck terror into the Akonites who came against him.
Brave as the Torrans were however, there were just too many Akonites surging forward into battle, they could not hope to stem the tide of enemies that beat against them but despite the odds against them they fought on bravely. As the long bloody day wore on towards dusk, king Aractus fell victim to the black shafted arrows of the Akonite archers and fell dying to the bloodstained earth. Asgoleth roared in fury and rushed to the fallen king’s side. The huge barbarian stood over the kings body and slew all who drew near and he shouted encouragement to his comrades in an attempt to keep them fighting. Then he too fell to the blow of a battleaxe that split his helmet to the skull. With the death of their king and the loss of the giant barbarian’s leadership, the Torrans broke before the overwhelming might of the Akonites and fled back towards the city. The trickle of fleeing men soon became a torrent as others joined in the rout. A roar of victory rose from thousands of Akonite throats and they surged forward after the defeated Torrans.
Men fell beneath the iron hooves and steel clad legs of the enemy and were trampled underfoot. No mercy was shown to the fallen and the ground ran red with the blood of the slain. The battle was lost now and there was nothing to stop the Akonite army as it swept towards the helpless city
CHAPTER SIX
The last rays of the sinking sun encarmined the silvered helmets and glittering sword blades of the Akonites as they strode arrogantly, drunk on victory and looted wine, through the streets of Torr. Fires glowed in the gloom of night, the flames reflecting redly from the swinging blades that rose and fell to chop out cowering victims lives.
The air was heavy with the acrid odours of smoke and blood and the cruel laughter of the Akonite warriors and above the laughter screams of pain and despair rang out as the women of Torr were ravished by their brutal, drunken conquerors.
The old, the sick and the wounded were put mercilessly to the sword. All others were sent to join the ever growing ranks of the enslaved who were being herded together in what had been the market square. Here they lay, moaning in their fear and despair, under the cold, pitiless eyes of their Akonite guards.
The long bloody night continued and while the city and her people writhed in their agonies, Demos sat upon the throne of Torr and savoured the taste of victory. His cold, dark eyes surveyed the looted riches that lay in piled heaps before him. Gold and silver and casks full of gems met his gaze and he stroked his beard in satisfaction. Among the riches were the ladies of the Torran court kneeling in front of their new master. Their fine gowns were gone, torn brutally from their bodies by rough hands. All that adorned them now were silver slave collars around their slim necks. Demos grinned as he listened to their sobs of shame and humiliation. Then his eyes fell upon his men and his grin grew broader still. Many of them bore the marks of battle and in their eyes burned the unspoken question. Why had he not used the magical power of his ring against the Torrans? It was a measure of his powers over them that none of them dared to ask the question aloud. Let them wonder, he thought, he had his reasons.
He had discovered that the use of the ring left him drained and exhausted. After the destruction of Fort Kronos he had almost collapsed from fatigue. Why should he put himself through such discomfort when he had an entire army at his command? He was their master, with the power of life and death over them all. If any of them should doubt that then he would use his power and they would die.
He leaned back and looked upon the spoils of war and he smiled again. Victory was his but still he required one more thing to make it complete, the secret of the Heart of Ra’s hiding place. Only when he had wrested that knowledge from the princess Amira would he know that he had truly won.
As yet she had not been found but it was only a matter of time until she was. A thousand pieces of gold had been offered to the man who brought her to him. As he had known it would, the promise of such wealth ensured that no stone would be left unturned in the search for her.
Thus he was not surprised when, a
short time later, the doors of the throne room opened and a soldier entered carrying a struggling, spitting, Amira. The bloody condition of the man showed that her capture had not been easy. His helmet was gone and clumps of hair had been torn from his head. His face bore the marks of her long fingernails and blood dripped freely from a deep wound in his arm where her slim bladed dagger had struck home.
The soldier set the princess down before Demos and had to duck swiftly to avoid another slashing swipe from her nails. Two guards stepped forward and held her arms in a firm grip and her captor backed off quickly. Demos laughed and threw the soldier the promised bag of gold and dismissed him. The man grinned as he caught the heavy bag, then bowed quickly and left, glad to be free of the Torran she devil Amira.
Silence gripped the assembled Akonites as they gazed upon the princess. Her gown had been ripped during her struggles and tantalising glimpses of soft white flesh showed through the rents. Her long, black hair hung in disarray and her magnificent green eyes blazed with anger and hatred as she glared at Demos sitting upon her father’s throne.
Demos smiled coldly at her as she stood, haughty and defiant before him. Finally he spoke.
‘Look upon the ladies of your court Amira. See how they bow down before their new master. I rule in Torr now and they belong to me. I can do as I please with them. I could have them enslaved or killed if I so choose. Instead, I intend to set them all free.’
A gasp of astonishment arose from a hundred pairs of lips at his words. Amira frowned as she looked at the captives then she turned her gaze back to Demos.
‘And what do you ask in return for their lives, tyrant?’
Demos grinned at her.
‘Two things, princess; First, I want to know where the Heart of Ra lies hidden. Secondly, I want you to become my queen. Together we shall rule the great empire I will build.’
He sat back and smiled at Amira’s outrage. All eyes were on her as she stood there trembling with anger. At last she gasped.
Asgoleth The Warrior: A Modern Tale of Sword And Sorcery (fantasy fiction books) Page 5